Game of Thrones: King of Magic

Solomon. Braavos.

For the morning I went for a short walk around the city, and a visit to the local temple of R'Glor.

Even at this early hour, the city was bustling with life, judging by the number of people going about their business. My ears picked up a symphony of voices ranging from children to old men. By my estimation, it was about seven o'clock now, and people were already displaying their wares. Some had their little benches made of a wooden frame, and others spread out right on the floor.

Last night's conversation with the "man" had gotten rather...idle. Every question I asked was answered, but not in the form I would have liked. It was either generalized or vague.

I asked about all sorts of things, but relatively little information about Valyria could be gleaned. I didn't learn about what exactly caused the cataclysm of the ancient land of dragons, but I did learn about the Many-Faced God. More specifically, about his birth.

In this world, the rule was that man creates a god, not the other way around.

The first Faceless One, who heard the prayers of these slaves, realized that they all prayed to one and only one god, though they called him by different names, and waited for him to deliver them from their sufferings, and this deliverance was death. And in the end, the god of Death, the Many Faces, was born.

Or at least I think so.

My cloaked figure walked slowly in a random direction, and I noticed someone following me. It didn't feel hostile or anything like that from him. More accurately, this 'someone' felt... nothing. A good assumption would be that this 'someone' was the Faceless One. And, most likely, his purpose was simply to observe me and, if necessary, to help me in some way. But there's no need for that. I think...

After a while, I arrived at Purple Harbor, one of the two available in the city. According to the description from the books, it was reserved for Braavos ships only and was different from the other because it was clean, well-maintained, and more luxurious. The buildings were built of worked white stone, had regular shapes, and tiled roofs. The streets were similarly paved in white stone, and perhaps I would call them a full sidewalk from modern times.

Looking up, an aqueduct came into my eyes. It towered above the houses and ran south, with powerful three-tiered arches supporting it. Again, according to the description from the books, fresh water was in short supply in the city, and so the locals built such a structure to solve this problem. The aqueduct brings fresh water running from the mainland into the city and then travels to the city's many fountains, which is where the residents get their water from. On my way here, I saw several of these, and they were located in more or less open areas.

One can remember such things from the history of my old world, or rather from the history of ancient Rome, the center of civilization at that time. However, this could also include the Titan of Braavos, as his armor definitely resembled the Roman style.

Returning to the surroundings, not everyone was busy trading. Faith was given special attention in this city. In some places there were representatives of different faiths standing and preaching their religion, while people gathered around them and listened attentively, praying at the same time.

And I managed to notice one detail, such gatherings were clearly defined in arrangement. That is, there was a certain minimum distance between them. As I understand it, this was so that each faith could act in peace, and also to reduce the risk of "heated" disputes between them. Although, it's worth mentioning that fighting inside the city is forbidden and punishable by the local authorities.

I stopped at one of the stalls and looked around. The vendor was a European-looking woman in her thirties with long brown hair tied back in a ponytail and dressed in a simple gray dress over a brown shirt. Her merchandise was bread, which still had a slight heat coming off it.

- Just out of the oven, sir. Three coins apiece. - she said, looking at me.

- Good. One, please. - I nodded, and the next thing I knew, I didn't have any money. Any... Luckily, I'd come across some Braavos coins, and just as I was about to create a couple of pieces, someone intervened.

- I will pay for this gentleman," a young male voice sounded from the side of me.

It was a young man in his twenties with short, straight black hair and turquoise eyes. He was dressed in rather refined, but no-frills clothing: a clean white shirt and a man's tunic dyed in the color of sea azure. He was followed by a middle-aged man dressed in light armor and a cloak bearing the symbol of the Sea Lord: a white seahorse on a turquoise background.

- Thank you, sir," the saleswoman said, accepting the money and bowing, "Good day to you.

- And you too, my lady," the young man said with a smile that made her blush, and then he looked at me, "If it's not too much trouble, please follow me. I'd like to talk to you.

I raised an eyebrow.

That's weird. I didn't feel followed by those two. And why would this young man want to talk to me? His bodyguard is wearing the cloak of the Sea Lord's guard, so his escort is most likely a member of the ruling family.

How interesting.

- Of course," I nodded and followed him, "And thank you.

- Don't mention it," the young man said, "I'm sure you could have done without my help, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity.

- Opportunity? - You may call me Solomon, young master.

- I'll tell you about it in a more pleasant setting," he replied, and then smiled, "Judging by the look in your eyes, you have a rough idea of who I am. The eldest son of the current Sea Lord, Velano Antarion. And by the way, we can drop the formalities. I'm not a fan.

- Good.

- Excellent! Follow me, please. - he exclaimed optimistically and headed up the street.

I followed him silently, followed by my faceless stalker. The bodyguard didn't say a single word, but I could feel his interested gaze lingering on me from time to time.

Do they know about me? I assume they do. Otherwise I could not have aroused such interest. I suppose they know me because of the events at Pentos.

It's worth listening to what he has to say.

-0-

Eddard Stark. Winterfell.

Everyone gathered around the tables and waited for breakfast to arrive. After the little scene Robb had made, the questions about "sorcery" had not died down. Some asked questions directly, trying to get at least a bit of information, and some either pondered or listened intently.

Robb himself was not present in the dining hall, but was recuperating under the care of Cat, Arya, and Lady Kinvara. After the Hound conceded defeat under the Prince's angry shouts, Robb collapsed without strength.

Robert, who was sitting next to me at the moment, still hadn't calmed down .

- ...Come on, Ned, what else can you say about this?

- I've said it all, Your Majesty. Solomon has influenced my son in some way. - I said it calmly.

- And you're okay with that? Everyone saw that something "magical" happened. One moment your son was almost dead, and the next moment he wasn't. All of the bloody Seven Kingdoms will know about it and will be asking the same questions I am.

I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

But I didn't say it outright, but I was definitely referring to the Citadel, the center of the Order of Maesters. Given their proclivities, they would want to investigate this incident. Magic is something they don't recognize or even despise. And it was absolutely involved here.

And it's not just the Citadel. The followers of the Seven faith would cause trouble as well. They tended to deny any other faith, labeling it heresy. Septa Mordane, who disappeared under "mysterious" circumstances, is a prime example of this. Her attitude towards Solomon when his abilities became known is a case in point.

And they will hardly be stopped by the fact that the North is a land where their influence is minimal. It will bring trouble, definitely, but...

- I apologize, Your Majesty, but my son is alive. And that is what matters most to me.

- Ha... - Robert sighed tiredly - Okay, I can understand that. But you should be prepared when we arrive at my castle. This decrepit old man is unlikely to look at it through his fingers.

- I understand that perfectly well. - I nodded, to which he murmured approvingly.

The High Septon is definitely not going to sit idly by. Fortunately, my men have already established themselves in King's Harbor and have the support of the red men. Perhaps I should ask Lady Kinvara to task them to find a pressure point on the septon. I don't think that would be unreasonable.

- Lord Stark," Tyrion Lannister, the queen's younger brother, addressed me as the food was placed on the tables and everyone began to eat breakfast, "May I ask you a few questions?

- Of course.

- From the guards I managed to learn the story of your... "magican's" arrival, and I would like to know why you settled him in so easily? He could have been a thief or a murderer, right?

- Hmm... - I thought for a moment - He saved Jon, that's why I did it that way.

- But isn't he a bastard?

- He is," I replied, "But that doesn't make him any less my son.

There were different reactions to that answer. The northerners nodded approvingly, and the southerners hesitated. But I could clearly see the queen's small, almost imperceptible nod of approval. I suppose, even from what I've heard of her, she's no stranger to the bond between children and parents.

- But wouldn't it have been easier to put him somewhere other than the castle?

- At that moment, I didn't think about it," I shook my head, then looked around at those present, "He certainly wasn't a thief, I'd even bet my honor on that. But a murderer... If he wanted to kill someone, that 'someone' would be dead by now.

- What makes you so sure of that? - Jaime Lannister asked, then grinned, "I don't think he could stand up to all your men alone. By "anyone," you definitely meant yourself or your family, didn't you?

- What he revealed to me of his own free will and initiative removed all doubts about it.

- And what did he reveal? - Prince Joffrey asked boldly - Don't tell me he could summon something out of thin air?

I did not answer, but only smiled. And when the guests saw this, their eyes widened and their bodies froze. In my eyes, time seemed to stop for them.

The expected reaction. When Solomon created two swords out of nothing, only to show me the difference between "magic" and "magic," I felt the same way they did.

He said that he could create anything, limited only by his imagination. That's when I realized how valuable an ally Solomon is. It costs him nothing to arm an entire army of hundreds of thousands of men, and every lord will bow to him. It costs him nothing to create entire castles, and no one will pass through him, no matter who it is... It's worth it just to think about it.

And that thought really stirs the blood and makes the heart beat faster. Too many opportunities open up to whoever Solomon deems worthy. And... I'm truly glad we were able to find common ground.

- Is this exactly what you saw, Ned? - Robert asked with doubt oozing from his mouth, "Because it sounds like dog shit to me.

- Who knows," I smiled, "Maybe my eyes have played tricks on me, but the picture is still clear and clean in my mind.

- I think you've lost your mind. - Robert shook his head.

- Who knows," I waved him off and looked at Tyrion Lannister, "Have I answered your question, Lord Lannister?

- Yes, quite," he nodded and took the wine glass in his hand, "Thank you for satisfying my curiosity, Lord Stark.

I nodded in return and wondered.

I wondered if Robb had come to his senses yet.

And a few minutes later, the doors to the hall opened, revealing a slow walking and bandaged Robb, supported by Cat and Arya. And Lady Kinvara followed silently behind them.

- Robb! - I shrieked - Are you all right? You should be resting.

- I'm fine, Father. - He shook his head weakly, then sat down in the empty seat next to Bran, then looked around and asked - Where is Ser Clegane?

- The dog is outside, licking his wounds," Robert grinned, then stood up and raised his glass, "I propose to drink to your victory, Robb Stark. Since the gods themselves have chosen the outcome of the duel.

I grinned to myself and raised my glass as the others did.

Perhaps Solomon could be called a "god" and have a shrine built to him. After all, his powers can be attributed to the gods themselves, even if he himself doesn't want to admit it, as I learned from one conversation with him. I wonder how he'll react when he sees it? Will he be confused, surprised, or disappointed?

I wonder. Interesting indeed.

- Thank you, Your Majesty. - Robb nodded and smiled weakly.

- Way to go, young man! - Robert smiled fangily and drank the contents in a gulp. The others followed, congratulating Robb on his victory.

Well, things are going well so far. That could be said with relative certainty. It won't last long, though, as my stay in Red Castle is definitely not going to give me any pleasure at all, is it?

-0-

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