The Grimoire and a Cauldron.
That's what I had in my inventory. Makes sense, really—how could a sorcerer brew potions without a cauldron? But since I didn't have any ingredients yet, it was useless… for now.
Finally having some peace, I could take a look at the spells I had access to, and I discovered a few things.
To move on to higher-level spells and potions, I needed a certain mastery over those from the previous rank. That's it. The grimoire doesn't say how much mastery—it just says "train, and we'll see." Incredibly frustrating, but logical when I think about it. What's the point of asking me to master expert-level magic if I can't even handle apprentice-level first? I get it… but it's still frustrating.
So, I decided to check out the spells. Like I said, alchemy was on hold for now—no materials. Disappointing, but I'll get to it soon enough. For now, I comfort myself with the apprentice-level spells. And right off the bat, these spells are the kind of stuff that make a fantasy fan like me hard.
Practical Magic:
Repairio: A spell of material and architectural restoration. It lets me repair or enhance anything material as long as it isn't organic.
Scruberoo: A spell of cleaning and purification, letting me clean and purify anyone or anything.
Mischievous Magic:
Despairio: An emotional spell that plunges one or more people into extreme sadness. I wonder if I could push someone to suicide with this one.
Deliriate: A spell that drives one or more people into a state of confusion. With greater mastery, I might even alter people's minds with illusions.
Untamed Magic:
Inferniate: A spell that lets me produce and control fire. Would've been useful earlier.
Zip Zap: A spell that lets me produce electricity. Weird name, but it makes me feel like Raiden, so I'll shut the fuck up.
Just from this, the grimoire proves it's no joke. I'd love to say I'm invincible, but I don't know what world I'm in. At any moment, some god or overpowered entity could just disintegrate me as easily as I scratch my balls. So, let's just say I can relax a little when shit goes down.
While Medieval Sniper Girl was still unconscious, I took a walk through the desolate village. After a lone zombie tried to attack me, it had the honor of being the first guinea pig for my Inferniate spell. I noticed fire worked really well against them. Good to know. I used it again on the seven other zombies I found in the village so far. Good practice.
Thanks to my enhanced senses, I heard my prisoner start to wake up. I stopped my zombie hunt and went back to the campfire I'd set up. Luckily, I didn't need survival skills to light a fire—just some wood I found in the village and a magic flame. Not that the fire was currently lit.
Sitting across from her, I simply observed her bound body—tied with ropes I'd taken from her (along with a bow, arrows, a waterskin, food, and a dagger). The knots were sloppy, but who needs skill when you can just tie someone's hands behind their back, bind their feet, and then reinforce the ropes with magic?
Try escaping from that. Magic for the win, bitch. Hmmm. I'm adapting better than I thought to this whole situation. A good sign, I guess… I hope.
Anyway, that's not the point right now.
"You planning on pretending to sleep much longer?" It had been several minutes since she woke up. Playing dead and waiting for a chance to escape was a simple but functional plan. Too bad for Robin Gingerhood—magic senses. I'm not at Superman level, but still. And even if I couldn't tell she was faking, good luck escaping when you're trussed up in magic ropes.
"If I don't see the color of your eyes in the next ten seconds, I'll have to force them open." I said, hoping my voice sounded intimidating. I wasn't used to threatening people, so I probably sucked at it.
Which was confirmed when, after ten seconds, Miss Archer still refused to "wake up." Well, I warned her. Powering my magical heart, I channeled my magic and, a second later, sent a small electric shock through her body. Her body jolted, spasmed, and she let out a sharp cry of pain. Note to self: Middle Ages = no electricity = zero tolerance for pain from natives who grew up in this harsh climate… unless this world has other sorcerers who throw lightning around. Something to check later.
Snapping out of my thoughts, I focused on my prisoner. She was breathing heavily, trembling slightly. I hoped I hadn't gone too far. I had no clue what a "safe" dose of electricity was for a human body (probably zero), so I'd gone with weak-but-effective. Enough to make her react. Though honestly, anyone would react to having electricity shoot through their body, no matter the voltage. But I digress.
"What the hell was that, asshole?" she spat, sitting up and glaring at me with understandable hatred.
I stayed silent, staring into her eyes, my brain scrambling to figure out the best way to start this interrogation. What would Ria, my sister, do…? Ah. The question game.
Regaining a bit of confidence, I gave her a small smile and picked up her dagger. It was a little damaged—well, not anymore, thanks to my magic. Any excuse to get better. Did the same with her bow, then looked at her again.
"Let's play a game. The question game. I ask one, you answer honestly. Then it's your turn." I said in what I hoped was a calm voice. She frowned, then let out a mocking laugh, replying sarcastically:
"A game? You think I'm a kid? And how do you know I won't just lie to you?"
That froze me for a second before I tossed my half-assed plan into the trash. Time to improvise.
"You could. That's true. But you won't."
Her brows rose at my answer. "And how do you know that?"
I leaned slightly forward, praying my words hit like I wanted. "Because only two kinds of people need to lie: the weak, and the cowardly."
Her brows furrowed with anger at the insult, and I leaned back a little. "So? Which are you? Weak? Or a coward?"
A silence. She stared at me, lips parting as if to retort—but nothing came. Just as I thought my words had failed, her gaze hardened, and she let out a forced chuckle.
"You think you know me, stranger? You've seen me for what… an hour? And you dare say what I am, or not?" Her voice told me I'd struck a nerve. Almost there.
As calmly as I could, I answered, "I know enough to see your pride won't let you cheat. You'd rather die than be seen as a coward."
She clenched her jaw, looked away for a moment, clearly boiling inside, then spat on the ground and gave me a sharp, mocking smile.
"Fine. We'll play your little game. But if I answer, you answer too, crow. No cheating."
I nodded slowly, celebrating inside for managing this.
"Alright. I'll start." She nodded back. The first question? Easy as fuck. "Where exactly are we?"
"North of the Wall, idiot. Where only real men survive." she said with a proud, mocking smile that faltered when she realized how little I cared, since it didn't help me at all. "My turn. What was that thing you used just now?"
"Electricity." I said, showing sparks running along my hand. Her eyes widened in shock. She opened her mouth to ask more, but I was faster.
"What's this Wall you keep talking about?"
She looked confused for a second, then smirked proudly again. "How can you not know? The Wall—it's the barrier of ice that separates the cowards of the South from the true free folk." Again, her smirk faded when she realized I still didn't give a fuck. Unfortunately, I had to wait my turn before asking another question.
"What was that thing you used earlier to knock me out? It exploded and dropped me in one hit."
"Magic bolt." Once again, my answer was backed up with a demonstration. This time, I fired a magic bolt at one of the houses behind me, which exploded from the sheer magical power I'd put into it. The woman's jaw dropped wide open at the destructive force I'd just shown off so casually—even though to me, it felt almost natural.
Using my telekinesis, I closed her mouth and turned her head back toward me, adding even more confusion to the poor woman. "Who are these free people you're talking about?"
My question seemed to snap her awake, because she glared at me as if my words were an insult. She straightened against her bonds, chin raised in pride.
"Not free people. The Free Folk. Us. The ones who refuse to bow to some king in the South, or hide behind a Wall of ice. We live, we take, we love… without chains. We don't follow laws, we don't follow masters. We're born free, and we die free."
She gave a mocking laugh, her eyes burning with defiance.
"The Southerners bend their backs for fat lords on their thrones. But us—we belong to no one. That's what it means to be Free Folk."
Once again, her words felt familiar, but I couldn't place them. Frustrating as hell.
And clearly, there was beef with the Southern people. Would've been interesting—if I gave a shit.
"How do you do… what you just did?" Her proud tone vanished, replaced by pure curiosity.
"Exactly like this." I said, snapping my fingers to light the campfire, which made her flinch slightly. "Magic." I added, drinking a little from her waterskin, which I'd purified beforehand.
"What are those walking corpses?"
Thanks to my senses, I caught the shiver running through her body and her eyes, though she quickly pulled herself together.
"The dead that walk. The Others raise them. If you see one… you run. Or you die."
Well, that wasn't cryptic at all.
Suddenly, she sat up straighter and looked toward the abandoned village. "The villagers' bodies, did you burn them? Otherwise they might come back."
I raised an eyebrow at the first useful piece of information she'd given me.
"Don't worry, I'll handle it after. Let's keep talking."
She hesitated for a few seconds before nodding and focusing back on me.
"What do you mean by 'magic'? Are you a skinchanger?"
My eyes widened in surprise at the second useful piece of information she'd just dropped.
"No, I'm not a skinchanger… what's a skinchanger?" She stayed silent for a few seconds before bursting into a mocking laugh, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.
"You really don't know anything, huh? You remind me of those crows who fall off their Wall, eyes wide like children. A skinchanger is a man… or a woman, sometimes… who also lives inside the skin of a beast."
Then her face turned serious… was this bitch really trying to give herself a mystical vibe?
"A wolf, a bear, an eagle… their spirit slips into the beast, and they see through its eyes, hunt with its claws. Some get lost, forget who they are. They say they end up trapped in the beast, their body rotting while their spirit still flies."
She leaned slightly toward me, a carnivorous smile on her lips. "So, are you scared now? You think I'll wake up tomorrow in the skin of a crow and claw your eyes out?" She let out a little laugh while I seriously wondered if I should let her taste another, slightly stronger, spark of lightning.
Her smile faded, replaced by seriousness. "If you're not a skinchanger, then how do you do this?" she asked, nodding toward the campfire since her hands were bound.
"I'm a sorcerer," I said, before muttering, "Well, apprentice sorcerer." Once again, I demonstrated—levitating her dagger up to her throat for a few seconds before pulling it into my hand. Damn, I was getting really good at this.
"The Others… what are they?"
Her face darkened when I asked, her eyes turning briefly to the fire in front of her. When she answered, her voice had lost its insolence—it was lower, heavier.
"The Others… they're the demons from the stories we told kids to scare 'em. Eyes blue as ice, skin cold as death. They walk in the night, and wherever they pass, everything dies. The beasts, the men… even the land itself."
She pulled at her bonds, almost nervously, then continued with a hint of anger, as if trying to mask her fear.
"They raise the dead. Your brothers, your friends, your parents… staring back at you with frozen eyes, thirsting for your blood. That's what the wights are. Empty shells that obey only the Others."
"I've seen 'em. I saw a man I knew come back from death… and kill his own brothers. That's what the Others are. Death that walks."
Her story, laced with the fear she tried to hide, was chilling—but not particularly useful. Except for telling me necromancers were wandering around raising very flammable corpses.
I was starting to think she didn't know much, and I was wasting my time.
"What's your name?" My eyes blinked in shock—realizing that one simple question could have solved everything from the start.
"Carmine O'Hara. And you?" I asked, bracing myself for the answer.
"Ygritte, of the Free Folk. Don't forget that name." she said proudly, while I put my hands to my face as the puzzle pieces finally fell into place thanks to one fucking question.
A redheaded archer, fighting blue-eyed zombies in a freezing wasteland, separated from southern lords by a giant Wall—and suddenly five words came to mind.
YOU KNOW NOTHING JON FUCKING SNOW.
That's six words… fuck it, who cares. I was in the world of Game of Thrones.
Wait a minute—that means there aren't any gods or omnipotent beings here who can disintegrate me as easily as scratching my balls?
FUCKING AWESOME.
I felt an immense weight lift off me as I looked at the badass chick who just got taken down by a kid. "Okay, last question each, so think carefully." Now that I had the info I needed, I didn't see any point in continuing. She probably had a lot of questions, but I didn't care. She might be a fan-favorite character (including mine), but this was real life—and in real life, this bitch had tried to kill me. Twice. So she could go fuck herself.
Yeah, I'm that petty.
"What do you plan to do with me?" Ah, the million-dollar question.
"Honestly, under different circumstances, I'd untie you and we'd both go our own way. But since you tried to kill me, that idea doesn't really thrill me." I said, keeping my face as serious and empty as possible. "Right now, I just feel like leaving you here, tied up. If you're lucky, someone finds you before you starve and saves you. Or maybe the Others find you, and you become one of those things."
As I spoke, I could see her face grow paler and paler. "Or… you avoid that nasty fate by telling me where the Wall is. And I mean the direct path—not some detour where I might run into a nasty surprise."
Of course, I didn't actually plan to let her die here. I just wanted her scared enough to believe I might.
Yeah, I can be vicious like that.
No surprise—she made her choice quickly. The third option.