Snap! Aemon's mind shuddered as if glass had shattered.
His vision cleared, the world coming into sharp focus as if a veil had been lifted. His hearing sharpened, and he could pick up subtle sounds he would have otherwise missed. His breathing became smoother, and he could easily distinguish the scents of grass and dragons in the air. He found he could intensify or weaken any smell at will.
"Amazing," Aemon muttered to himself.
But that wasn't all. His tongue felt moist, and as he opened his mouth slightly, he could taste the coolness of the air. His porcelain-white skin felt tight and elastic, as if he had just emerged from a hot spring, and he was acutely sensitive to every change in his surroundings.
His five senses and mental fortitude were enhanced. Aemon closed his eyes. His heart beat with a steady, orderly rhythm. Problems that had once stumped him now resolved themselves one after another in his mind. A broken rune materialized in his thoughts, its lines forming out of thin air to repair the incomplete parts.
"It's fire," Aemon said, opening his eyes. He understood.
He summoned his magic essence panel.
[Aemon Targaryen]
Talent: Dreamer (Gold)
Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragon King (53%)
Skills: Archery (Master), Riding (Master), Swordsmanship (Expert)
Witchcraft: Binding Spell, Remnant (Mastery), Burning Rune (Novice), Solid Rune (Proficient), Empty Hands (Proficient)
Magic Cards: Strong Body (Blue), Solid as a Rock (Intermediate, Purple), King's Aura (Purple)
Forces: Riverrun (Main City), Blackwood Hall (Subsidiary)
Equipment: Lament, Lady of the Void, Broken Horn, Twin Valyrian Daggers, Sapphire Amulet (2/3)
Pets: Golden-nosed Rat (Blue), White Deer (Auspicious Beast)
Comment: Children who play with fire will wet the bed.
Aemon reviewed the new information and laughed. A new rune: Burning.
Runes were all different. Solid runes were highly adaptable and could be used when engraved on special materials. Burning runes were easy to learn but difficult to master. First, one had to access the magic, engrave the rune onto a weapon or lighting tool, and release flames of an unknown strength.
"I'll have to try this when I get back," Aemon thought, eager to test it. He lacked active magic, and the Burning Rune should be lethal.
"Aemon, are you alright?" Laena called out with concern as she climbed up the grassy slope. He had been standing there motionless for quite some time.
"Better than ever," Aemon laughed heartily and pulled her into a big hug. He felt like a superman.
"It's getting late," Laena said, her tone softening. "We should say goodbye to Lady Jeyne and return to Riverrun before dark."
Aemon had no objection. They would gather Rhaenyra and Laenor and leave this wilderness as soon as possible.
Vhagar, having just swallowed a blood fruit, was already getting sleepy.
The night passed without incident.
Early the next morning, the city of Riverrun came to life as servants bustled about their duties. The three main halls stood magnificent. The Summer Hall was connected to the Evergreen Hall, their white marble walls forming a seamless whole with a wide training ground situated between them.
Boom!
Vermithor folded his wings and landed slowly between the two palaces. At the same time, two younger dragons—one topaz, one light silver—landed on either side. Aemon climbed down from his dragon's back and caught Laena's soft body as she dismounted.
When they had tried to leave the previous day, Jeyne Arryn had unexpectedly asked them to stay, so the group had remained one more night. Vhagar, however, had returned to the Lonely Mountain in advance and was now asleep at its foot.
"Woof, woof, woof..."
Two black hounds, one large and one small, ran out and barked at the behemoth that had suddenly appeared. Vermithor's pupils narrowed as he glanced at them arrogantly.
"Whimper!"
The two hounds, terrified, tucked their tails between their legs and fled.
"Big Black, Little Black," a small boy from the Painted Dog clan named Agudao called out as he ran from the Summer Hall's gate. There were only a handful of skinchangers in all of Riverrun.
"Meow!"
Another lazy cat's cry sounded. A "black swan" of a woman, dressed in a black gauze skirt, swayed her hips as she walked slowly toward them.
"My prince, welcome home," Johanna bowed slightly. "Welcome back, Your Highness."
A striped black cat, as large as a tiger, followed behind her like an inhuman bodyguard. My super fat cat, Aemon thought with a pang of regret. It's not cute at all anymore.
"Coal Ball missed you, too," Johanna said, scratching the cat's chin with a chuckle. "I've prepared a welcoming banquet."
"Thank you for your hard work," Aemon said, leading the group into the palace.
The welcoming party was held in the Evergreen Hall, on the second floor. In the center of the room was a stone table shaped like the entire Vale, with detailed carvings of its mountains, rivers, valleys, and every noble castle and fiefdom.
Thump!
The paulownia wood doors were pushed open, and the hall was used for the first time.
"Come in," Aemon said, taking the lead.
This was one of the three main halls of the city. The Summer Hall, also known as the Throne Hall, had only one floor due to its high foundation. The Hall of Plenty handled government affairs, with offices on the first floor and the steward's quarters on the second. The Evergreen Hall was located in the inner court and had three floors: the first for daily living, the second for the strategy hall, and the third for an observation deck.
Sunlight shone abundantly through the huge, floor-to-ceiling glazed windows, reflecting a rainbow of colors.
"Cousin, after seeing your city, I don't want to go back to High Tide," Laenor said with a smile.
Of the Seven Kingdoms, only Highgarden of House Tyrell could rival the grandeur and magnificence of Riverrun. But Highgarden was a castle, not a city. In terms of sheer scale and beauty, Riverrun was still superior.
"Sit anywhere you like. Just treat it as your own home," Laena joked. Riverrun's pure white facade and its palaces of red brick and green tile were unmatched. No girl who appreciated beauty could dislike it.
Johanna took Rhaenyra's hand and led her further into the room. There were no seats in the strategy hall; everyone stood in a circle around the stone table.
Aemon pointed at the stone sculpture of the Eyrie. "Lady Jeyne has closed the Gates of the Moon. The nobles of the Vale are divided. It is time for Riverrun to make its move." He intended to pick off the old, radical lords one by one.
"This..." Rhaenyra hesitated.
"Don't worry, I'm not some great villain," Aemon said, sensing her concern. "The Vale will not fall into chaos."
Rhaenyra sighed helplessly. "I'll listen to you." As the heir to the Iron Throne, she had little choice.
"Which lords are you going to attack?" Laena asked seriously. Laenor nodded, eager to see what would happen.
"Not many. They're all old neighbors," Aemon said, full of confidence. He placed three dragon-shaped stone sculptures on the locations for Wickenden, Old Anchor, and Gulltown.
The Vale was divided by the Mountains of the Moon. The lords' domains were roughly split into three areas: the Vale of Arryn proper, the lands north and south of the mountains, and the Three Sisters islands.
"The Vale of Arryn is the territory of the Eyrie, where lords of all sizes are enfeoffed. We cannot enter there," Aemon explained. He drew a circle with his hand around the area south of the Mountains of the Moon. "The eastern lands, shared by House Royce and Gulltown, are home to only a few old noble houses, like the Redforts."
Centered on Riverrun, he controlled Blackwood Hall, which had replaced Ironoaks to the north, and Old Anchor on the coast further beyond. To the south was the Redfort, and further south along the coast was Wickenden.
"Take down these two lords and Gulltown, and everything south of the Mountains of the Moon will be under our control," Aemon declared. He pointed to Coldwater Burn and Grey Glen. "The waters north of the mountains are turbulent. There are no decent castles there except for Heart's Home and Snakewood."
The Three Sisters were excluded, as they were lawless and full of smugglers and pirates. Some of the lords in the south and north had already pledged allegiance to Aemon, but he could barely control half of the Vale.
"Won't Lady Jeyne be angry?" Johanna asked cautiously.
Aemon glanced at her. "Does it matter?"
Johanna pouted and said no more. It was a waste of breath. Under Jeyne Arryn's governance, the Vale was already semi-autonomous. The issue of succession was too pressing for her to concern herself with other lords. Weakness meant having a weak voice.
Laena pondered for a moment. "Gulltown has maintained close contact with us in recent years. We shouldn't conquer it by force. Wickenden and Old Anchor are another matter."
"Men's hearts are unpredictable. Who knows what the generous Lord Grafton is truly thinking?" Aemon had already considered it. "Let's make a splash in the name of the Riverrun Tournament. We'll have the lords of the Vale who are willing to be loyal to me raise a two-headed banner to show their allegiance."
"Force them to take sides?" Laena was surprised.
"Yes," Aemon said seriously. "If we don't, they will always be fence-sitters."
"When will the tournament be held?"
"In three months."
Laena folded her arms. "We'll have to hurry, or there won't be enough time."
Aemon was firm. "Give them seven days. We won't wait any longer." This local war had to end within three months. The Riverrun Tournament would announce to the Seven Kingdoms that half of the Vale had been brought under his control.
That night, in the forge of the auxiliary hall...
Tap, tap, tap...
Johanna took long strides, walking quietly to an open basement door. Inside the airtight room, a furnace burned intensely. Aemon frowned as he held a broken horn, examining it repeatedly. In front of him was a table with a bronze bell and a runic greatsword broken in two. He wanted to repair the broken horn without a dragonbone whistle and decided to make some useful equipment. Such were the thoughts of Aemon the blacksmith.
He placed the bronze bell in a container and pushed it into the furnace to melt at a high temperature. Halfway through, he added a piece of black, cake-shaped fuel, and the flames roared to life, diffusing a foul, sulfuric smell.
"Not enough," Aemon said. Seeing the bronze bell turn into molten copper, he touched his chin and threw in a piece of a topaz-colored dragon scale. The molten copper bubbled and spat out a wisp of white smoke. "Interesting."
Aemon took off his shirt, preparing for the repair work.
"Gulp—" Johanna stole a glance and swallowed involuntarily. What a beautiful sight. After watching him for a while, she patted her hot cheeks and headed home. There was still much to do. A competent steward could not afford to procrastinate.
Early May, King's Landing
A cool breeze mixed with water vapor blew through the morning air of King's Landing. People were privately speculating that it might snow that year.
Inside the Red Keep, the kingdom's heart, Viserys sat by the fireplace, eating breakfast and warming himself by the fire.
"And that is what happened, Your Majesty," Grand Maester Mellos said, lowering his head as he finished his report.
"That boy has offended half the lords of the Vale and the Eyrie!" Viserys slammed his knife and fork down, his face twisting in anger. Out of sight, Aemon had caused a major disaster. "Does he dare to make an even bigger one?"
Mellos, observing the king's expression, tried to offer a soothing word. "Prince Aemon's trial by combat was fair and just. He also won a Valyrian steel longsword for himself and the royal family."
"What else can he do besides fight and kill?" Viserys said furiously. "I sent him to the Eyrie to build relations, not to stir up trouble!" House Arryn was the family of his late wife, Aemma. Jeyne Arryn was alone and helpless; it was a time for the royal family to welcome her with open arms. But with Aemon's interference, how would the lords of the Vale view the crown now?
As soon as he finished speaking, he sensed something was amiss. Viserys frowned and asked cautiously, "What is this... Riverrun of his like? How many vassals and allies does he have?"
"It is said that Riverrun is large and beautiful, though not yet prosperous enough, Your Majesty," Mellos chose his words carefully. "Many lords in the Vale despise His Highness, but many also love him."
Viserys's face changed completely. That boy had set his sights on the Eyrie itself. No wonder House Royce, second in power in the Vale for a thousand years, would rebel against their liege.
"When did this happen?" Viserys was deeply suspicious. His nephew had grown up under his nose and had never shown much ambition. He looked down on the Iron Throne, so why would he want to occupy the Vale? How could that be? He was the King, and the Vale was under his rule.
Mellos spoke up at the perfect moment. "His Highness has been very active recently. It seems he is going to hold a tournament in Riverrun." He then produced a piece of paper from his sleeve.
"An invitation for me?" Viserys read it, surprised. Shouldn't the boy feel guilty?
Mellos hesitated for a moment before adding, "The banners flying over Runestone, Coldwater Burn, and Grey Glen are... unclear, Your Majesty."
"He's forcing them to declare their position!" Viserys immediately understood. "He treats the Vale as his own backyard and acts as if he's above the law!"
"His Highness is young. It is not surprising that he wishes to accomplish something," Mellos tacitly agreed. Aemon's father, Daemon, was also fighting fiercely in the Stepstones.
Bang!
Viserys slammed the table. "Accomplish what? He is a prince, yet he dares to usurp the power of the Iron Throne!" His dependence on his nephew was a mistake. If he coveted the Vale today, he would dare to seize the Iron Throne tomorrow. This was simply unacceptable.
Mellos watched him, not daring to respond.
Viserys struggled to control his emotions. "The Eyrie is weak. How can they defend themselves against that boy?"
"I'm afraid it will not be easy," Mellos shook his head helplessly. "His Highness has a strong army and a dragon. His overall strength slightly surpasses that of House Velaryon. And the Arryns fear dragons most of all."
"Then there's nothing to be done about him?" Viserys said angrily.
Mellos sighed. "You could try scolding him."
"Hmph. He's more stubborn than Daemon," Viserys's face fell as an unhappy memory surfaced. Seeing this, Mellos fell silent.
The bedroom became quiet. Viserys's brow was knotted, his heart in turmoil. He was angry about his nephew coveting the Vale and worried about the instability of his throne. After all, his nephew already possessed enough power. If he continued to expand his territory, Viserys, his uncle and king, would not be able to suppress him.
"How can we calm the turmoil in the Vale as quickly as possible?" Viserys suddenly asked after a long silence.
Mellos opened his mouth to say that Princess Rhaenyra was also there, and that things wouldn't get too out of hand. But he immediately swallowed his words. Having served the king for many years, he knew the question had a deeper meaning. After thinking for a while, he said hesitantly, "If the royal family had a reliable helper, it could naturally deter outside threats."
"Who?" Viserys asked.
Mellos lowered his head and said dryly, "Ser Otto Hightower. He has the support of his family and is not only the Queen's father."
"Otto?" Viserys's eyes flickered. "I drove him away. What would be the point of calling him back?"
"Ser Otto has been under effective house arrest for many years. I believe he has long since recognized his mistakes," Mellos answered, avoiding the question.
"You may go," Viserys said, a headache building. Mellos nodded and left quietly.
Bang!
The door closed, leaving the king alone. Viserys leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyebrows with a large hand. He cared about family, but he was not a sentimental man. The current situation in the Seven Kingdoms was clear: the royal family, Riverrun, and Driftmark depended on and checked each other's power. His nephew was too ambitious and would inevitably break this balance. Following his past habits, a check was necessary. The Targaryen clan was powerful. Who could be found to balance them? The answer was his in-laws.
Viserys had a splitting headache and felt powerless. "None of them give me any peace." He pressed his thumb to his temple, feeling the cool touch of his skin. He looked down and saw an emerald ring.
"Bastard," Viserys muttered, but a warm current spread through his heart as he rubbed his forehead with the ring.
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