Five years had passed since the wedding of Prince Alaric Stark and Princess Deria Martell in Winterfell's godswood, their vows sworn beneath the heart tree's red leaves. Their son, Ares Nymeros Martell, now four, bore his mother's dark curls and his father's grey eyes, a bridge between North and Dorne.
Westeros had transformed in those years, its kingdoms reshaped by ambition, magic, and uneasy peace. The North thrived, its canal fueling trade, the four-hundred-meter Guardian of Moat Cailin looming as a silent sentinel.
Alaric's griffin-sized wolves and eagles patrolled Winterfell, and the Broken Tower bustled with magical training, where Jory, Hal, and Tommen taught potions, runes, smithing, and magic control to Northern heirs and smallfolk alike, all bound by magical contracts ensuring loyalty.
Alaric's newer inventions—hoverboards and gliding carts—revolutionized travel and trade. His two-way mirrors, now installed in major holdfasts, allowed instant communication across the North.
In the South, Aegon Targaryen had consolidated his rule over the Riverlands, Stormlands, Reach, Westerlands, and Vale, his Aegonfort a growing hub of power.
His wife, Visenya Targaryen, had formed the Kingsguard—seven elite knights, magically enhanced through painful Valyrian rituals to wield the strength of ten men—and the Dragon Knights, two hundred soldiers similarly empowered, their armor etched with draconic runes.
The Faith of the Seven, wary of magic, held its tongue, fearing the North's growing power under the old gods. They let Aegon use magic to create enhance soldiers so they can incite war between North and South in the future.
Aegon focused on his sons, Aenys and Maegor, preparing them for future conquests.
Visenya oversaw their magical training, delving into Valyrian fire magic, blood magic, and glass candles for communication and scrying.
Yet her attempts to peer into Northern holdfasts failed, blocked by Alaric's runestones—wards carved with magic-infused runes, shielding Winterfell, Last Hearth, Karhold, and others from magical intrusion.
Visenya's frustration grew, her glass candles flickering uselessly against Alaric's defenses.
In Dorne, tragedy struck a year after Alaric and Deria's wedding. Princess Meria Martell died, her fierce spirit passing in Sunspear's sunlit halls.
Prince Nymor Martell, her heir, became Prince of Dorne, ruling with wisdom tempered by grief.
Deria, now proficient in Rhoynar water magic, healing magic, ice magic, runes, and potions—skills honed under Alaric's tutelage—returned to Sunspear with young Ares. She led Dorne's magical forces, training two hundred fifty men and women in chakra-enhanced combat, their spears and shields glowing with runes.
Dorne's trade with the North flourished, its fine sand fueling Northern glassworks, while grain, timber, and whiskey flowed south, enriching both realms.
Alaric's Water Gardens, the castle gifted by Meria, neared completion, a lush oasis of pools and orchards where he stayed during visits. His improved hoverboard, crafted from ironwood and magical runes, let him fly from Winterfell to Sunspear in eight hours, a marvel that awed Dornish smallfolk.
In the North, Alaric's inventions reshaped daily life. His hoverboards, now used by Winter Wolves and select lords, sped messengers and scouts across the Wolfswood and Barrowlands.
Gliding carts, propelled by magic, carried goods through winter snows, linking holdfasts with ease. The two-way mirrors, paired with runestones for security, allowed Torrhen Stark to coordinate with lords instantly.
King Torrhen, now with a second child—a daughter, Lyanna—ruled alongside Queen Maege, their court a beacon of stability.
Brandon Snow, ever loyal, drilled the Winter Wolves at Moat Cailin, his Frostbite a symbol of Northern might. The harvest festivals grew grander, with magical displays—floating orbs, runed blades, and water conjured by Deria's students—drawing cheers from smallfolk.