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Wayward King - 007
🕑 Added 2023-08-11 08:38:20 +0000 UTCChapter 007 – Restrictions
[289 AC – Winterfell]
['Astronomy – Apprentice(53)' has been registered in the third 'Knowledge'-Vein.]
[Three skills have been registered in the 'Knowledge' sub-crystal. Be aware that you have only two remaining slots for knowledge-type skills.]
[It is discovered that the study of 'Astronomy' is beyond regular difficulty due to the lacking scientific advancement in this world, rewards will be adjusted accordingly.]
['Astronomy' has been registered as a Novice-level skill. You have been given a piece of meteoric ore for crafting purposes as a result of the reward adjustment.]
['Astronomy' has advanced from Novice to Apprentice, strengthening the vein greatly. You have gained 'Essence of the Moon' as a result of the reward adjustment.]
[Do you wish to materialize the meteoric ore? (Yes)/(No)]
Reading through these messages, Jon's expression was rather unsightly since he now understood that his handling of the Support System had to be a lot more careful.
He had been thoughtless before since he hadn't understood the clues given by the System, which now seemed rather obvious.
The 'Knowledge' sub-crystal was shaped like a five-sided pyramid and now the message given by the System reminded him that there were only two remaining slots for knowledge-based skills after having already registered three others.
This was simply a mental exercise in addition: five sides to the crystal excluding the bottom, five chances to register a skill.
And he had filled up one of only five possible slots with astronomy, a subject that is almost impossible to study in depth without advanced technological equipment.
This world hardly had any standardized sizes of measurement and the vast majority of people were illiterate, and now Jon had to study the movement of celestial objects and their make-up to gain the rewards from the System.
It was no wonder that the rewards had been adjusted since the difficulty of this had suddenly turned nightmarish.
He understood that he had to carefully choose the other two knowledge-type skills since he could only gain rewards for five subjects and didn't want to risk filling another slot with a subject that was almost impossible to study.
His discovery also made him aware that the 'Specialty' sub-crystal, which was also a five-sided pyramid, most likely functioned on the same principle, though since he did not understand by which criteria the Support System judged an action to be a fitting 'special-type' skill, he wasn't sure what to do with this information.
Feeling a headache coming on, Jon simply sighed as he closed the book and placed them both on his nightstand again before climbing back into his bed while pondering over the rewards that he had just gotten.
A piece of meteoric ore and 'Essence of the Moon'. Both sounded impressive and given that the System rewards would always be beneficial in one way or another, he knew that these two objects had their uses.
Some distant memories even reminded him of a rather special sword that was said to have been forged out of a piece of meteorite – 'Dawn', the ancestral blade of House Dayne, carried by the Sword of the Morning.
Arthur Dayne, former Kingsguard and his birthfather's close friend had been the last Sword of the Morning. And from the memories of his past life, Jon knew that he had been killed at the Tower of Joy by Howland Reed's sneak attack.
Possibly the greatest knight to have ever lived, died by having his back stabbed by a crannogman from the swamps while the world thought that Eddard Stark, the Quiet Wolf, had bested Arthur Dayne in combat.
It was almost poetic until Jon remembered that the crannogmen might not be that simple. They knew about magic and some of them even had green dreams, not to mention that Howland Reed was sure to know about his true heritage.
After all, he had been there with his uncle when his mother, Lyanna, had died on the childbed.
Strangely, Jon found this to be a comforting thought since this meant that there was at least someone who knew that he wasn't a bastard, besides his uncle, that he was his mother's son, a trueborn Stark.
His thoughts moving back to the topic at hand, Jon could almost believe that the piece of meteorite may be able to be forged into a weapon of similar quality to 'Dawn', which by itself was on par with Valyrian steel.
Naturally, this depended on the amount of meteorite ore that the System had rewarded him, but he didn't plan to materialize it to see for himself the quantity since there was more to consider than just volume.
House Dayne originated from the destroyed Great Empire of the Dawn, a realm where magic was said to be prevalent, which probably meant that 'Dawn' had also not been forged using conventional methods.
But forging with magic was almost an extinct art that nobody in the world understood anymore, so how could Jon just take out a piece of meteorite and expect Mikken, the blacksmith serving House Stark, to forge him a second 'Dawn'? This was clearly a delusional thought.
If he wanted someone to forge his meteorite, Jon had to find a blacksmith that might have a chance at doing so, which would force him to turn his sight to Qohor since the Qohorik were the only ones that still knew how to reforge Valyrian steel and might thus also be able to help him.
But Qohor was on the other side of the Narrow Sea that separated the continent Westeros from Essos. And even then, a blacksmith who knew to reforge Valyrian steel was still a rarity, not to mention that it came with its own risks.
Qohor wasn't a peaceful place one could just visit for a vacation. It was said to be the most mysterious free city and that blood magic and sacrifices were widely spread there.
Going to such a place as a half-Targaryen with king's blood wasn't what Jon considered a 'sane' idea, at least not without a large platoon of guards to accompany him.
Naturally, there were said to be Qohorik blacksmiths living in the other free cities of Essos with the skills to reforge Valyrian steel, especially in Volantis, but simply getting there was a difficult thing to achieve. And he could hardly ask his uncle to just invite such a master or send him there because he had a piece of metallic rock that he wanted to be forged into a weapon.
Jon also remembered that one of the best blacksmiths in King's Landing was a foreigner from afar, possibly Qohor, but that didn't really lower the difficulty of getting him to forge something for him.
And even if his assumption of the meteorite needing magic to be forged was wrong, which his instincts were telling him that he wasn't, he still didn't know how he would explain how he got his hands on the ore in case he asked Mikken to forge him something from it.
At least, Jon didn't want to risk having to answer such a question without his uncle around as a measure of protection.
Sighing, Jon understood that the matter of the meteorite had to be set aside for the moment, so he decided to not materialize it for the moment.
Instead, he was more curious about the 'Essence of the Moon' since he hadn't felt the familiar trace of warmth in his body upon the mention of this reward, nor was there an option for him to materialize it.
And just as he thought up to this point, another message popped up in his mind.
[Conditions not met. 'Essence of the Moon' unusable.]
Jon almost wanted to thank his reliable System for the information before he realized that the conditions to use this reward were not mentioned, and after mentally asking a few times, he still got no answer.
Suddenly 'reliable' wasn't the word that he wanted to use to describe the Support System, he grumbled inwardly while at the same time being thankful for the fact that the System wasn't sentient or it might have decided to deduct a few rewards for the other descriptive adjectives that came to his mind in this moment.
Naturally, he understood that the wasn't entitled to any rewards, not even the System itself. All this was a mere stroke of luck and he should be grateful for the help he had been given. In the end, he was just venting his frustration due to the lack of satisfying answers, he wasn't really resentful.
Tired, Jon lay under his covers as he took a few deep breaths and let the tension in his body bleed away, giving himself over to his exhaustion and falling into a deep sleep.
…
"Your fever is nearly fully gone, very good. And you seem to have regained some colour in your cheeks.", Maester Luwin concluded after checking his forehead and the back of his neck for heat with his palm, "So, tell me how are you feeling? And be honest, child, I will know if you lie."
The elder man seemed strict yet kind as he spoke those last few words, his gaze stern.
It was the next morning and Jon had already done his morning duties and eaten his breakfast.
He had been in the middle of reading 'The Kings of Winter And Their Bannermen – Noble Houses of the North' since he had decided to put off diving into the study of astronomy in favour of getting memory enhancements first when the Maester had shown up to check on his condition.
“I still get out of breath quickly when I move around too much but otherwise I feel fine, Maester.”, Jon replied, telling the truth since he didn't want to hamper his own recovery and anger the man who could help him in his studies.
"Mhmm.", Luwin hummed in acknowledgment, smiling lightly at the young boy's honesty, "That is to be expected after long periods of or severe cases of sickness, though I suspect you will regain your strength quickly after some more rest."
“Now, how are you liking the books that I had sent to your room? I see that you started on the one that talks about the history of the North. If I remember correctly, it was written by Grandmaester Archwin, and fairly well at that.”, he added with a look at the book that lay by Jon's side.
"I started it after finishing 'The Great Houses of Westeros' since I was curious about the more detailed history of the North, and I like it. It is actually written like a record of history and not like a list of praises for House Stark, contrary to what I imagined after reading the title.", Jon replied without hiding anything.
A surprised look appeared in the Maester's eyes as he heard these words, clearly not having expected that he had finished one of the books already.
'The Great Houses of Westeros' only had a few hundred pages and wasn't too in-depth about the different noble houses. It gave a rough overview of their history and the family tree but only mentioned the most noteworthy deeds of a few of the members of the Great Houses. Most other family members were mentioned by name only.
As such, it was wholly possible to finish it all in a day, even faster if one used some special reading techniques. And while Jon was but a young boy, he clearly knew how to read and write since he had started to be taught how to do so at the age of six.
It was a rather great surprise that he had read the whole book for sure but it wouldn't seem too shocking all things considered, especially the boredom which made for a great motivating factor.
“Are you trying to pull wool over my eyes, Jon?”, Luwin still asked with some doubt, seeing the boy shake his head in denial.
“Well, then.”, the Maester smiled, a challenge in his tone as he continued, “I assume you will not have a problem naming all the Great Houses to have existed throughout history in the Vale, the Stormlands, and Dorne? As well as name five of the extinct houses that had once ruled in the Riverlands?”
His brows drawing close, Jon thought for a moment, knowledge surfacing in his mind almost magically as his enhanced memory went to work.
It wasn't on the level of a photographic memory by any stretch of the word but the enhancement had made it significantly easier to recall any kind of knowledge.
It was hard to quantify the change but Jon guessed that his memory had become at least fifty percent more efficient, which meant a lot since he was still a child and his brain was in its development phase where it was already able to absorb and integrate information much easier than an adult could.
“House Royce, House Arryn, House Durrandon, House Baratheon, House Yronwood, and House Nymeros Martell are respectively the houses from the Vale, the Stormlands, and Dorne.”, Jon voiced out with certainty before adding, “House Fisher, House Teague, House Justman, House Mudd, and House Hoare are extinct houses that once claimed rule of the Riverlands.”
The Maester was somewhat astounded by the young boy's confident answer and just as he was about to praise him for his studious spirit, Jon continued.
"House Hoare is undoubtedly the most well-known extinct house though since it moved from the Iron Islands to the Riverlands in their conquest, where they cruelly forced thousands to their deaths in an effort to build Harrenhal, which still took them over forty years."
“Unfortunately, they didn't get to enjoy living in the castle for more than a few days when Aegon Targaryen rode Balerion to the giant fortress and burnt it to the ground, the molten stone castle being all that is now left of House Hoare.”, he ended.
Laughing lightly, Luwin spoke with fond surprise as he said: “Well, it seems that the fever has awakened the scholar in you, child. But I can remember one Great House, which, while not extinct, was certainly more memorable in its demise. Can you guess which?”
Jon was stunned for a moment since he didn't quite recall which other House's fall was more memorable than the burning of Harrenhal. Even House Gardener was at most equal in their demise, the 'Field of Fire' a grim reminder that the Targaryen's invincibility on the field was undeniable during the time when they still had their dragons.
An example of this was that while their dragons had still been alive, most of the wars that had been fought had been the wars of Targaryen against Targaryen since everyone else had feared the power of the drago- …
Thinking up to there, Jon's eyes widened for a moment before he breathed out quietly: “House Targaryen.”
Nodding heavily, the Maester replied: "Yes, the last known dragonlords of Valyria. Their fall will certainly be remembered as a greater event than the extinction of House Hoare. And it was your father that put an end to their reign alongside Robert Baratheon, who slew the 'Last Dragon' Rhaegar Targaryen."
Jon flinched ever so slightly when he listened to those words, his muscles tensing as he heard the Maester speak with such respect in his tone when mentioning the death of his true father.
Thankfully, the elder man didn't notice anything strange and Jon shook off the constricted feeling in his heart quickly.
He knew very well that his father had provoked his own death with his actions, though that didn't diminish the distaste and disgust that Jon held for Robert Baratheon. The whoring and incompetent king had never, even for a single moment, loved his mother but he clamored that to be the case, tarnishing his mother's name with his obscene actions even now.
Robert was obsessed with the thought of 'his' Lyanna having been 'stolen' from him but even during their last meeting at the Harrenhal tourney, he hadn't managed to not be a total man-whore and act like a decent man about to be married.
But worse than that, Jon resented the Baratheon King and his birth father because their actions had thrown a shadow over his mother's life and made her into a ghost that was only ever mentioned as a tragic victim.
It was even worse in Winterfell and the North as nobody ever dared to speak of Lyanna around his uncle. Nobody ever mentioned how wild and willful she had been, how she had smiled and laughed when surrounded by her family, or how she had yearned to be free from all the shackles that tied her down because she had been born a woman.
A trace of hidden grief appeared in the depths of Jon's eyes as he thought about all this, though it disappeared just as fast, a new resolve growing in his heart as it did.
One day, he wanted to hear his mother's name be spoken with awe and respect, make people see that she had left something behind to be proud of, that she hadn't just been the trigger to a war that had ultimately led to the downfall of House Targaryen and the deaths of thousands.
Jon promised himself to make sure that she wouldn't just remain a tragic anecdote.
Comments
Nazarickk
Thanks for the chapter
