Ater galloped at an incredible speed and seemed almost tireless even after running for an hour.
Harry estimated they were traveling at around fifty kilometers per hour.
In that single hour, Ater had covered the distance that would have taken good horses an entire day.
As astonishing as it was, it was nothing unexpected. Ater wasn't an ordinary horse; he was practically a magical creature.
Harry had never stopped feeding him potions. In the future, his offspring would inherit his traits, albeit to a lesser degree. Even so, he would create an extraordinary breed of magical horses.
After two hours, Ater finally stopped to rest beside a stream.
Harry and Arya took the opportunity to rest as well. Both of them had sore backsides despite the cushioning enchantments on the saddle.
"Ater is really strong," Arya said, looking at him in amazement.
"He is. Otherwise, it would take us several days to get there," Harry replied with a smile.
"Then why don't you give him to me?" Arya asked with a mischievous grin.
"Why don't I send you to study to become a maester?" Harry replied, looking at her speechlessly.
Arya merely glared at Harry before looking at Ater as though she were planning a grand theft.
After resting for an hour, Ater neighed, urging Harry to get back on, ready to run for another two hours.
About an hour and a half later, Harry spotted a group of people working. After signaling Ater, the horse slowed down and came to a stop some distance away.
His gaze swept across the area, and he immediately understood what was happening.
Large oxen walked at the front, plowing the ground and clearing away any obstacles. Behind them, people removed the loose earth with shovels, leaving a trench roughly twenty centimeters deep.
Behind them, another group spread a bed of small stones, with the railroad ties partially buried in it.
Following them, there was no one. Harry assumed the people laying the steel rails weren't making much progress.
Without bothering to stop and greet them, Harry urged Ater onward.
He didn't catch up to the workers laying the steel rails until roughly forty kilometers later.
They placed the steel rails on top of the ties before securing them with thick steel bolts. A cart followed along the tracks carrying long steel rails.
Harry raised his head and watched the railway stretching into the horizon with excitement.
It would change the North forever.
No, it would change the world once the rumors spread.
Smiling faintly, Harry continued the journey, riding for nearly another hour before finally arriving at the small town that was beginning to take shape.
The sound of hammering and the heat could be felt even before entering the town. Harry guided Ater toward the largest house.
Several guards were stationed there. The moment they saw him, they immediately recognized him, greeted him, and opened the door.
Dismounting first, Harry lifted Arya into his arms before setting her gently on the ground.
Taking her hand, he led her inside after greeting the guards and briefly asking whether there was any news.
Walking through the doorway, Harry arrived before his first subordinate.
Philip.
The architect in charge of his only project for now, but also his largest.
He hadn't announced his arrival, and even if he had, no one would have expected him to arrive the very same day.
"Philip," Harry called, startling him. Clearly, he hadn't expected Harry's arrival.
"My lord!" Philip exclaimed happily.
"I saw the progress on my way here. Everything seems to be going well," Harry said as he sat down.
Arya sat beside him, looking like a well-behaved little girl.
Her eyes wandered around the room, filled with curiosity.
"Everything is going well. The line has already extended a little over one hundred kilometers toward Winterfell, and a maester makes sure we keep moving in a straight line."
"I estimate it'll take another three to four years for the line to reach Winterfell. On the other hand, the line toward the Wall has run into a few more difficulties. We have to cut a path through the forest first, but after that the terrain is fairly flat, so progress should speed up."
"Even so, I don't think it's possible to build a railway from Moat Cailin to Castle Black in less than eight years," Philip said timidly.
"Hm. The progress is unacceptable for a year's worth of work, but understandable. I came precisely to see how we can speed things up," Harry said, nodding slowly.
"Our biggest problem is direction. The maester constantly has to check whether we're still heading the right way. Sometimes we drift off course and have to go back."
"It may not sound like much, but it delays the entire project by days," Philip said with a sigh. That was precisely why the crew laying the steel rails was advancing so slowly.
"I see," Harry said thoughtfully.
Philip looked at Harry with hope. In his mind, magic was omnipotent. Surely it had a solution.
Harry noticed the hopeful look on Philip's face, so he lowered his gaze to the map and remained silent for several seconds. Little by little, an idea to speed up the construction began to take shape in his mind.
"When I return to Winterfell, I'll mark the route myself.. Then you'll be able to send out different groups of workers. If each group is responsible for ten kilometers of track, with enough manpower we should be able to finish in much less time," Harry said, looking at Philip.
He hadn't expected keeping the route straight to become the biggest obstacle. Had he known, he would have drawn the route from the very beginning, and it seemed he would have to do the same for every future railway.
Philip adopted a thoughtful expression as he looked at the map, scratching his head while his mind quickly worked through the numbers.
"Instead of one construction front... we'd have dozens," Philip murmured as he looked at the map.
"With enough workers, we could probably finish the section to Winterfell in about a year."
"Do you need me to repair anything?" Harry asked, nodding as he changed the subject.
"No. The furnace and the molds have held up well so far. Magic really is convenient," Philip said with a quiet chuckle.
"Of course it is," Harry replied, the corners of his lips curving upward.
Beside him, Arya couldn't help looking at him, tilting her head to the side in confusion.
Harry looked at her, gently squeezed her little nose, then ignored her for the time being.
"Do you have enough rails and enough workers for this plan?" Harry asked.
"Yes. We already have enough rails to reach Winterfell, and the blacksmiths are still working. We have nearly a hundred blacksmiths now, my lord. Even after selling tools all across the North, we're still operating at a loss," Philip said with an embarrassed smile.
He had hired several blacksmiths from the south and even from Essos at high prices, not to mention the enormous amount of grain he had to pay out every day.
"What if we started exporting tools?" Harry asked thoughtfully.
"I have a few contacts I could reach out to," Philip said with a hesitant nod.
"Try it if you can. If it doesn't work out, don't worry about it. We pay the workers in grain, and the blacksmiths' wages are manageable," Harry said with a nod.
"Yes, my lord," Philip said with a relieved nod. He had genuinely been worried Harry would think they were spending too much.
"Have there been any major problems with the workers?" Harry asked, looking at him.
"They behave well as long as they're paid. Only the blacksmiths seem a little curious about what we're building. I've kept them under watch, and they haven't contacted anyone," Philip replied seriously.
"I see. Let's not worry about that for now. Just keep an eye on them and speed up the work," Harry said with a nod.
"Yes, my lord," Philip replied enthusiastically.
Once the railway was operational, many things would become much easier, such as transporting workers and resources.
"Then let's do it. I'll leave tomorrow and start drawing the route for you to follow," Harry said with a nod.
"I'll start preparing everything as well," Philip replied, nodding before leaving the room.
Harry took Arya to eat while she continued staring at him.
"I'll show you tonight," Harry said with a smile.
Arya nodded, though she still kept staring at Harry.
Harry took Arya for a walk around the town, frowning slightly as he noticed a few unpleasant smells.
That night, he made sure to speak with Philip about sanitation. People couldn't be allowed to throw their waste onto the streets or relieve themselves wherever they pleased.
He was particularly ruthless about it, establishing escalating punishments for anyone caught doing so.
From fines to floggings, he hoped people wouldn't be stubborn.
That night, Harry slipped beneath the blankets with Arya lying beside him, looking at him with her beautiful gray eyes.
"You've been staring at me all day. You're going to burn a hole through my face," Harry said with a laugh as he tickled her.
"Don't try to fool me. What's this magic all about?" Arya asked, squirming as she tried to hold back her laughter.
Harry extended a finger and gently tapped Arya's little nose before his finger suddenly lit up, producing a small Lumos.
Their faces were illuminated by the warm light it gave off.
Arya curiously reached out with a finger and passed it through the little sphere of light, clearly amazed.
Harry extended his other hand, and a small ball of fire formed above his fingertip.
"Woah," Arya exclaimed in surprise as she felt the warmth of the flame.
Suddenly, Harry pointed a finger at Arya, and a small jet of water splashed against her face.
Arya let out a startled yelp before bursting into laughter.
"Can I do that too?" Arya asked curiously.
Arya's question truly caught Harry off guard. No matter what he told her, it was something he simply wasn't sure about.
Had he been born with the ability to use magic because of Death's influence?
Or could he use magic because he was a Stark?
If it was the first reason, then it would certainly be impossible for Arya, but if it was the second, then it meant he might be able to teach her.
That made him think about his ability to see through and control Hedwig, something that clearly came from his blood.
It was said that the Starks descended from the First Men. Who knew how much truth those words really held?
"Arya, to be honest, I don't know. Let's wait until you're a little older and then we'll find out," Harry said as he gently stroked her cheek.
Arya was still too young. Harry suspected there had to be a reason why, in his previous world, magical education didn't begin until the age of eleven. Besides, he hadn't forgotten the pain he had felt when he tried to use magic at barely three years old, so he preferred not to take any unnecessary risks.
Arya couldn't help looking a little disappointed.
Not wanting to see that expression on her face, Harry raised his finger once more and clearly said, "Lumos."
A noticeably larger sphere of light appeared before them.
"That's the incantation. I don't know if you can use magic, but if you can, the important thing is intent. You have to truly believe," Harry said as he rested his hand on Arya's head.
"Lumos," Arya said as she stared at her finger, but to her disappointment, nothing happened.
Harry could only hope he hadn't given her false hope.
....
The next day.
Harry had breakfast with Arya before saying goodbye to Philip.
They rode for several kilometers before stopping beside the railroad.
Arya turned to him with a confused look.
"We need to do something first," Harry said, giving her nose a light tap before climbing down.
Arya merely rubbed her nose gently while glaring at him.
Harry dismounted from Ater while absentmindedly flipping a coin through his fingers.
Carefully observing the width of the railway, he frowned slightly in concentration.
The magic around him stirred as the coin began to transform.
A sort of wheeled double plow, built to match the exact width of the railway, appeared before Harry.
"What's that for?" Arya asked in surprise as she watched something appear out of thin air.
"We're going to mark the route," Harry said as he harnessed the Transfigured coin to Ater.
He rested a hand on the wheeled plow before casting an enchantment that would carve furrows wherever it passed.
To test it, he activated the spell. A dull rumble immediately followed as two furrows formed in the ground.
Nodding in satisfaction when it worked exactly as intended, Harry climbed back onto Ater and urged him forward. They didn't stop until they caught up with the group building the railway.
Everyone was resting, and Philip had apparently already informed them, as there were many more workers than before. They seemed to have divided into several groups, each with a number of aurochs.
"Who's in charge here?" Harry asked from atop Ater.
"My lord, I am," one of the men replied as he stepped forward.
"Hm. I don't know whether Philip has already explained how we'll be doing this, but I'm going to mark the route now. You'll split into groups and advance toward Winterfell."
"I'm leaving immediately, so follow me," Harry said before glancing at the plow and subtly activating the enchantment.
A low rumble immediately drew everyone's attention as the ground seemed to split open wherever the wheels rolled.
"Let's go," Harry said softly, urging Ater forward.
The furrows created a guide for the workers, who quickly recovered from their surprise and immediately began following behind him.
Once they were out of sight, Harry slipped a hand inside his clothes before enchanting his wand to point toward Winterfell.
With a compass in hand, there was no chance of getting lost, and the route remained as straight as possible.
Whenever the occasional tree stood in the way, Harry stopped long enough to remove it, creating an easy and safe route all the way to Winterfell.
Because of this, they didn't reach Winterfell until the afternoon of the second day, finishing the furrows directly in front of Winterfell's western gate.
Looking at the freshly turned earth, Harry smiled with a hint of nostalgia. It was right there that the strip where everything had begun had once stood.
It had already been dismantled, along with several others nearby.
Although Vayon had seemed reluctant to tear them down, Harry had been firm about it.
That place would soon give way to something far greater.
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