Chapter 20: The Greenseer King and the Oncoming Storm
The long peace of Jaehaerys the Conciliator's reign, a golden autumn for the southern kingdoms, was, for the Hidden Council of Winterfell, a borrowed time, a precious window to prepare for an winter of unimaginable ferocity. As the first century of the Targaryen dynasty drew to its close, King Jonnel Stark, his public life spanning nearly six decades, finally "passed from the world," his reign lauded for its wisdom and steadfastness. The North mourned, then hailed his son, Brandon Stark – known to the inner circle as Brandon the Greenseer – as their new King. The year was 98 AC. Young Brandon, already an immortal for many years, ascended the Winter Throne, his eyes holding not just the keen intelligence of his forebears, but the unsettling, ancient light of one who walks between worlds. Veridian, the emerald King's Dragon, accepted his fourth Stark rider with a grace born of timeless understanding.
King Brandon II's ascension marked a subtle but profound shift in the council's approach. While Kaelen remained the ultimate architect, his wisdom born of Flamel's centuries and his own long, ageless existence, Brandon's potent greenseeing became a guiding star for their preparations. His visions, once fragmented and chaotic, had matured under Kaelen's tutelage into a powerful, if often harrowing, tool. He saw the Night King, a figure of terrible majesty and chilling purpose, marshalling his forces in the uttermost North. He witnessed the true, horrifying scale of the wight armies – a relentless tide of undeath that threatened to swallow the world. He glimpsed weaknesses in the Others' ancient ice magic, saw pathways through their encroaching desolation, and even touched upon the location of forgotten First Men strongholds, places where ancient knowledge and powerful artifacts might still lie hidden.
"Their power is not just of ice and death, Grandfather," Brandon reported to Kaelen during a council session, his young face etched with the strain of his visions, Veridian a comforting presence in his mind. "It is of silence, of despair, of a cold that extinguishes hope itself. They seek not just to conquer, but to erase."
These revelations spurred the council to new heights of activity. The Hiemal Vexillum, the Dragon Horn, became an instrument of proactive defense. Guided by Brandon's sight, King Brandon II, with Kaelen and the other immortal Starks at his side, undertook a series of profound rituals. They journeyed to the highest peaks of the Frostfangs, to the deepest, most ancient weirwood groves where the Old Gods' presence was a palpable force, and along the entire, magically resonant length of the Wall. There, the King would sound the Horn, its ancient call amplified by the combined will of eight immortal dragons – Nocturne's gravitas, Veridian's keenness, Glacia's icy resilience, Solara's fierce light, Azureus's fluid grace, Sylvan's earthen strength, Umbra's shadowy echo, and even Erebus, who would often appear unbidden, a smoldering vortex of power drawn by the Horn's deeper resonances.
The magic they wove was not for immediate, visible effect, but a slow, deep strengthening of the North's intrinsic magical fabric. They awakened ancient wards laid down by the Children of the Forest and the First Men, wards that had slumbered for millennia. They created vast, invisible barriers of elemental energy along natural choke points identified by Brandon, zones designed to disrupt the Others' ice magic and disorient their wight armies. The very land of the North, from the Neck to the Wall, was being subtly transformed into a magically hostile territory for the forces of the Great Other. Kaelen, drawing upon the Philosopher's Stone, fueled these immense workings, its condensed spiritual energy providing the raw power needed for enchantments on such a continental scale.
Erebus, the crimson-black dragon, remained a creature of wild, untamed majesty, yet his connection to their cause, and particularly to Brandon the Greenseer, seemed to deepen. Brandon's visions often featured the wild dragon, not as a servant, but as a parallel force, a destructive storm that moved in concert with their more ordered defenses. Sometimes, after a particularly intense greendream focusing on Erebus, the dragon would undertake solo flights far into the Lands of Always Winter, returning days later, his scales scorched with an unnatural rime, his eyes burning with a terrible, triumphant light. Arya, through Umbra, would sense the aftermath – vast swathes of wights reduced to frozen dust, minor outposts of the Others shattered as if by a localized volcanic eruption. Erebus was fighting his own war against the encroaching cold, his shadowflame a unique and potent weapon against their shared enemy. He still accepted no rider, but Brandon, by focusing his greenseeing, found he could sometimes subtly nudge Erebus's attention towards areas of particular threat, a tenuous, unspoken alliance forming between the Greenseer King and the Dragon of Ash and Ember.
While the North girded itself in secret, the southern realms were preoccupied with their own dynastic dramas. Jaehaerys the Conciliator's long reign, though peaceful, was drawing to a close. The Great Council of 101 AC was convened at Harrenhal to choose his successor, a move intended to prevent a war of succession but one that laid bare the simmering tensions within House Targaryen. Kaelen and the Hidden Council observed these events with detached interest. The choice of Viserys I as heir over Laenor Velaryon (and by extension, Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was) was noted.
"A weaker king than his grandfather," Kaelen commented to Brandon Sr. and Torrhen, as they reviewed Arya's reports. "More concerned with feasts and tourneys than the true governance of the realm. His reign will likely be one of managed decline, unless his heirs prove stronger. It gives us more time, more freedom to act without southern interference."
King Brandon II maintained the established Stark policy: peaceful coexistence, unwavering defense of Northern autonomy, and absolute secrecy regarding their true power. His reputation as a wise, somewhat mystical ruler, prone to long periods of contemplation (which the North attributed to his communing with the Old Gods, but which were, in fact, his greenseeing trances or consultations with the Hidden Council), served them well. The Iron Throne, under the amiable Viserys I who ascended in 103 AC, largely left the distant, cold North to its own devices.
The immortal guardians themselves, now spanning five generations of Starks from Kaelen to King Brandon II, faced the perpetual challenge of their timeless existence. Kaelen, whose consciousness held the memories of Nicolas Flamel's six centuries plus nearly two of his own in this world, was a living embodiment of history and arcane lore. He guided his descendants not just in magic and strategy, but in maintaining their connection to the fleeting world they were sworn to protect. He encouraged them to find anchors – Brandon Sr. in the meticulous chronicling of their history and the training of new generations; Torrhen in the mastery of Northern flora and fauna, using his immortality to understand the deepest secrets of the land; Rickard in the perfection of martial skills and the command of Dragon's Maw's hidden defenses. Eddard remained their chief loremaster and healer, his gentle wisdom a balm to their ancient souls. Lyra, their steadfast non-Stark ally, continued to weave their cloak of illusions, her devotion unwavering. Arya, with Umbra, was their shadow, her wild heart forever bound to the untamed spirit of the North, yet her intelligence reports were models of clarity and precision.
Their greatest focus, however, remained the Wall and the Night's Watch. Under King Brandon II's public patronage (and Kaelen's secret direction), support for the ancient order was subtly increased. Shipments of specially crafted soulfire steel weapons found their way to Castle Black, disguised as gifts from grateful Northern lords. Eddard, using his mastery of wards, worked with Kaelen to analyze the Wall's ancient magic, identifying weaknesses left by millennia of neglect and secretly reinforcing them with spells drawn from Flamel's texts and the lore of the First Men. Brandon II's visions often guided these efforts, showing them where the ice was thin, where ancient tunnels might be compromised, or where the Others' magic was beginning to probe for vulnerabilities.
One particularly chilling vision led King Brandon II, Kaelen, and Arya (with Umbra) on a perilous, cloaked journey to the Shadow Tower. Brandon had seen a powerful wight lord, not a mindless corpse but a creature of cunning and ancient malice, attempting to reanimate a forgotten barrow near the Wall, seeking to raise an army from within the Gift itself. The confrontation was swift and brutal. Kaelen's sorcery, Arya and Umbra's shadow tactics, and Brandon's own burgeoning combat magic, combined with the potent soulfire blades, dispatched the wight lord and its nascent host before they could become a true threat. It was a stark reminder that the enemy was not just massing in the far North, but actively seeking to undermine their defenses from within.
The Philosopher's Stone remained Kaelen's most potent tool, its power a near-inexhaustible wellspring. He used it to create the Elixir for each new Stark Lord, ensuring the continuity of their immortal council. Its transmutative properties subtly enriched the North, providing resources for their vast undertakings without depleting their lands. And its life-giving energies were now being channeled into larger, more ambitious enchantments – attempts to create "sanctuary zones" deep within the North, areas where the land itself would actively resist the Others' cold and necromancy, places where life could endure even if the Wall were to fall. This was the magic of deep earth, of growing things, of life affirming itself against an encroaching void, an art Flamel had only touched upon but which Kaelen, with his Stark blood and the Stone's power, was beginning to master.
As the first decades of Viserys I's reign unfolded in the South, marked by prosperity but also by the growing rift between the 'greens' and the 'blacks' over his succession, the North remained a realm apart, its gaze fixed firmly on the true enemy. King Brandon II, the Greenseer King, stood as its public shield, his visions a flickering candle in the encroaching darkness. Behind him, Kaelen and the immortal generations of Starks, astride their magnificent dragons, prepared for a war that had been prophesied for millennia.
The final vision that closed this era of preparation for Brandon II was the most terrifying yet. He saw the Night King, not as a distant figure, but standing atop the Wall itself, his eyes like burning blue stars fixed southwards. He saw a winter that choked the skies, and an army that blotted out the land. And he heard a silent, mental command go forth, a call that resonated with the deepest cold of the grave: "Awaken. The time of man is ending. The Long Night comes for all."
Brandon collapsed from the vision, Veridian roaring in shared distress. When Kaelen and Eddard revived him, his words were few, but their import was absolute.
"Grandfather," he whispered, his eyes still reflecting the icy horror, "it is no longer years or decades. It is soon. The storm is upon us."
The long peace was over. The hidden war was about to become terrifyingly real.