King's Landing, Red Keep
The winter sun slanted over the garden walls. Septon Barth stood beside King Jaehaerys, who sat comfortably on a carved chair near the trees.
"Winterfell?" Barth asked, adjusting his robes. "Does the boy an to be fostered with Lord Stark?"
Jaehaerys shook his head. "No, nothing of the sort. He only asks to visit. A season, no more." He gave a faint smile. "Alysanne would not allow it otherwise. Even in her letter, she warned not to grant it too easily. She has grown very attached to that one."
Barth gave a soft laugh. "She has cause. He keeps her company, listens better than most boys. Still, there is so use to it beyond pleasing his curiosity."
Jaehaerys raised a brow. "Oh?"
"The North has not seen a royal guest in years," Barth said. "A prince of your blood, and one already known for wielding fire…he will be rembered. And perhaps it might soften old grievances. Many northern lords still mutter over the lands their grandsires were pressed to yield to the Watch. They do so quietly, but the mory lingers. A royal visit would not nd it, though it might ease the sting."
The King stroked his beard, thoughtful. "Hmm… perhaps so. Though to , it sounds more like a boy wishing to see the Wall than a matter for lords and lands."
Barth turned his head slightly. "And so it is. Yet sotis even small journeys leave marks, both on the boy and on those who host him."
The King's mouth twitched into a faint smile. "You would make an envoy out of him already."
"A little practice now will spare him any harder lessons later," Barth replied.
Jaehaerys leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking. "Alysanne will fret regardless. But she cannot keep him tied to her skirts forever."
"Better she let him go a little now," Barth said gently, "than fight him later when he insists on more."
The King gave a quiet hum of agreent, his eyes following the pale sky. "Indeed. Let him have his season, then. It is a small thing."
Dragonstone
The evening tide rolled in quietly, waves hissing as they lapped against the black sand. Aegon walked barefoot along the beach, his toes sinking into the damp grit. The cool water foad against his ankles now and then, retreating with a soft pull.
He liked this ti of day. The sky was painted orange and violet, the sea glinting with the fading light of the sun. It reminded him of his old life back on Earth. He had often gone to beaches then, sitting for hours to listen to the waves. The sll of the sea and the endless horizon felt the sa here as it did there. The only difference was the looming castle of Dragonstone at his back.
He stood for a while, watching the sun dip lower. Then he shut his eyes and pulled up his attributes.
[
CON 9.5
STR 9.1
AGI 9.2
DEX 9.3
INT 15.6
Magic 10.7
Spirituality 10.1
]
He exhaled slowly. A lot had changed.
All his physical stats were already at the level of an average grown man. Constitution, strength, agility, dexterity, each one high enough that a normal adult would struggle to match him.
And he was only ten years old.
If he were on Earth, he would have been labelled as a freak. But not in this magical world. There were enough freaks here that he would easily fall short in comparison.
His intelligence had already shot past fifteen. Though fifteen wasn't genius, it was far beyond the ordinary. He had already noticed subtle differences, like being able to rember more and calculate faster.
In gas, you could stack points on strength or constitution and watch your numbers climb. No risks, no side effects, just bigger stats and better results. But this wasn't a ga. This was reality.
That was why he had always been wary of creating classes that gave direct attribute boosts. Imagine unlocking a class that increased your strength. At first, great, your stats climb, you feel stronger. But then you start upgrading it, and suddenly your body begins changing in ways you can't control. Muscles tearing, bones reshaping, organs stressed in ways you don't understand. And the worst part? Once a class existed, there was no removing it.
Yes, he could create a new class to counter its effects, but to upgrade it, the old one had to be maxed first. This ant that if he created a dangerous attribute-based class, he'd be locked into upgrading it even if it was slowly breaking him. No turning back. A one-way road that ended in self-destruction.
Aegon was fortunate that his first class, [Gluttonous Child], did not do much damage to his body, and he was able to neutralize it with the next class, [Nimble Rascal].
Thankfully, from this he was able to figure out one thing: attribute-giving classes were traps. Maybe not always, but the risk was too high. Better to grow through the effects of traits, rather than force his body down a path it couldn't survive.
He opened his eyes again, staring at the horizon.
Magic and spirituality were another matter. Both had risen since he began filling his ntal space with spell models. Each ti he carved a new one, he experienced a magic surge that increased his magic attribute. After analyzing it, he realized that every spell model strengthened his connection to the Magic Sea dinsion.
He had seven spells now. Five from before, and two new additions. With them, his magic stat had finally pushed past ten. That single jump mattered more than the physical stats. With over ten points of magic, his spells reached farther and lasted longer.
But higher spells demanded more magic.
He had already tested the difference. Four-rune spells devoured magic compared to three-rune ones. Cast them too often and he'd be drained within seconds. And five-rune spells? He laughed quietly to himself.
"I probably wouldn't even be able to fire one," he murmured. "Empty myself completely and still not enough."
That was a problem for later, though. He didn't even have a five-rune spell yet. But one day he would.
For now, the setting sun washed the sea in red and gold, and the waves curled around his feet like old mories. Aegon let the silence linger, then turned back toward the looming black castle.
The dinner hall was quiet when he entered. No food had been served yet. At the long table sat his grandmother, with Lady Jocelyn beside her and Gael across. Their voices carried softly, mingling with the crackle of the fire.
Lady Jocelyn had only returned to Dragonstone a few weeks past, after a long stay with the Baratheons. Most had thought she would remain there for good.
Her return had surprised everyone. Aegon suspected so quarrel had soured things, but Jocelyn had spoken nothing of it, and no one pressed.
He made his way forward and took his seat. Alysanne turned to him with a stiff smile.
"You have good news today, Aegon," she said. "The King has agreed to your visit to Winterfell. So then… you an to leave in spring?"
Aegon inclined his head, smiling faintly. "Yes, Grandmother. There is still a month till spring. I will depart after that."
Alysanne nodded once, though her eyes lingered on him a little longer.
Jocelyn raised an eyebrow at the exchange.
Gael noticed and shifted in her seat. Her voice dropped, a little downcast. "Aegon wished to see Winterfell. The Wall. So… he will leave in spring."
Jocelyn's gaze flicked to her, then softened. She gave a small nod, then smiled, teasing lightly, "And do you wish to see it too?"
Gael startled a little, then glanced quickly at Alysanne. "I… I want to," she admitted, her tone nervous, "but… he is leaving on Dreamfyre."
Alysanne's eyes settled on her daughter, then moved to Aegon. "It is not as though two cannot ride a dragon together."
The weight of the table turned to him. Aegon gave a wry smile, spreading his hands slightly. "I do not think Dreamfyre would allow it. Our bond… she grows rather temperantal at tis."
That earned a soft chuckle from Alysanne. "That much is certain. She rejected nearly everyone who tried to claim her. You riding her at all was a miracle in itself."
The mont eased with her laugh, and for a while the talk flowed idly again. Then Aegon looked toward his grandmother, his expression turning thoughtful.
"Uncle Vaegon will not be joining us tonight? I thought he had been feeling better of late."
Alysanne's smile faded. She let out a quiet sigh. "No. He is taking his supper in his chamber. Yesterday the pain returned…his lower waist again."
Aegon's brow furrowed with concern. Of course. Because I burned him again, he thought coldly. His face, however, showed only worry.
When he had heard whispers of Vaegon's health improving, Aegon had gone to see him with feigned care. But it had been enough to see through him. Vaegon still carried resentnt, hatred, hidden beneath the polite words. Aegon had slipped into his chamber later that night, unseen, and burned him once more, not in the sa place, but enough to lay him low for months again.
And I will keep doing so, he thought calmly. I cannot kill him, but I can keep him in bed as long as he stays here.
"Have the maesters still not found the cause?" Aegon asked, voice laced with concern.
Alysanne shook her head, weary. Gael reached for her grandmother's hand, squeezing gently, while Jocelyn offered quiet words of comfort. "He will recover soon. The Seven grant it."
The sound of hinges broke the mont. The great doors opened, and servants began to file in, bearing trays of food and pitchers of wine. The scent of roasted fowl and herbs drifted through the hall.
Then it struck him.
Aegon's breath hitched, no more than a heartbeat, but inside, everything snapped taut. His spirituality surged like a blade drawn from its sheath. A sharp, cold signal tore through him.
Danger.
He sat perfectly still, hands folded on the table, his face betraying nothing. But within, his pulse quickened, his body coiled. The warning was unmistakable.
Quietly, without shifting a muscle, he let his spirituality unfold. It swept across the hall, brushing over every movent, every breath.
The servants approached. Dishes were laid down, pitchers poured. Yet to Aegon the air had turned heavy. His gaze drifted, careful, scanning. Faces bent toward their work, harmless, deferent.
Until one.
A maid.
Tray steady in her hands, posture perfect. Under his spiritual sense her shape rippled. Tiny black pinpricks flickered across her skin, faint but unmistakable: magic, coiling where no servant's body should carry it.
The cold along his spine hardened.
Her.
She is the source of danger.
He forced his breathing steady, face unmoved. But his mind sharpened to a point. None at the table noticed anything wrong, Alysanne still spoke softly, Gael leaning close to listen and Jocelyn with her hands folded, waited for the al.
Aegon's eyes stayed on his plate, but within, his thoughts raced. He pressed deeper with his perception, and the truth ca clear.
The skin was only a mask.
Beneath it, another form, broad where the maid was narrow, a man's fra forced into a woman's shape.
His chest tightened.
A Faceless Man.
***
✨ Bonus Release (unlocked at 500 Power Stones): Wednesday 00:00 GMT 8
Don't let your power stones sit idle!! Vote and unlock the extra chapter!
patreon/Deep__aureate (Read up to chapter 63)
User Comments
0 comments from readers