《Far Strider》Chapter 26: Making Whole

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Chapter 26: Making Whole

I spent the next few days in King’s Landing, improving Ned, Robert, Ser Barristan, Sansa, and Arya. Only Ned and Ser Barristan got the full strength. Arya I gave a less potent version of the strength, but figured that she might be too tempted to use her strength and fight if I gave her a greater level. I could tell that the spells could be improved, but didn’t have sufficient time to make it a higher priority given the lack of a pressing need.

Syrio Forel, Arya’s instructor, figured out the difference almost immediately. I wasn’t overly surprised; he had a sort of wise martial arts master vibe going on. He inquired about what it would take to get similar upgrades from me, but balked at swearing himself to my service. It was a pity; he’d have been fucking lethal with the upgrades and a Valyrian steel rapier.

Meanwhile, Wisdom Munciter of the Alchemists Guild slowly got his party of acolytes and apprentices all packed up to come to Harrenhal and take up residence there. I hadn’t had much success attracting other skilled workers, but more for lack of time to search them out than anything else. Gendry and the other smiths were busy readying to head out too.

They looked to be on schedule to leave by the time my guards arrived, so that was all fine. Unfortunately for them, they were limited to the speed of carts and wagons on the road back. Aethon and I could make the five hundred mile Harrenhal - King’s Landing run in a day; they’d take a month.

Apart from just not having time to waste, needing to get back to Harrenhal and start working my magic, I had to make it back to King’s Landing again in time for the start of the week of festivities leading up to Margaery Tyrell and Robert’s wedding. That was starting in just a week, so I didn’t waste any time and pushed on to Harrenhal when my business in King’s Landing was done.

Once I was there, I had the officers of the castle clear it out, brining all the people into one of the courtyards. I intended to break the curse and fix the stones, and thought it might be better if there were no one inside while I did the work in case something went wrong. I told my officers I was going to break the curse, activated my mage-sight, and set off. I tracked the lines of dark influence back to the godswood and eventually the heart tree.

The weirwood seemed to have a horrible visage, full of hate and twisted anger with wicked eyes. It was a scarred tree, and the very opposite of sacred. I settled into a light state of meditation, then reached for White. I took one mana, then another, then five, then twenty more until I held a massive force, the greatest single concentration of mana I had ever wielded as part of a spell.

“Forgive us our trespasses,” I said clearly, structuring my desire to break the curse and restore the land. Then I loosed the healing, purifying energies into the weirwood and waited with my breath held for a moment before the tree started to heal. The scars shrunk and disappeared, the once wicked gaze became fond, its sneering face settling into the happy wrinkles of a kind grandfather.

Throughout the fortress, for as far as I could sense, the darkness receded then evaporated as it lost its grip on the land. No longer was Harrenhal cursed. The air seemed sweeter, the light brighter, and a small creeping dread in the back of my mind had passed on.

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I turned, walked back out of the godswood and to the Kingspyre Tower, the tallest of all the towers where Harren and his sons were burned alive. It was a lopsided, broken structure that would have looked more like a wax model left too close to the flame than part of one of the greatest fortresses ever made had it not been for the humbling, awe-inspiring size of the tower.

I stretched my hands forward, touched the wall of the Tower, and began to channel. Strictly speaking, the Living Stone enchantment that was once active on the Black Wall of Volantis needed to be cast when the object had the structure that you wanted. In other words, were I to use it unaltered, it would happily repair my castle to its current broken state in the future.

But Blue was the color of history and dreams, of time and magic. White the color of purity, of completeness, of order. And so I made those stones living, but I made them remember and long for a time gone by when the fortress was new, and beautiful, and whole. And then I settled in to channel. This was a task beyond even my grown reserves, and so rather than a quick burst of power I gave it a steady stream, fed the spell pattern with a colorless mana every other second, occasionally touching the spell up as the magic tired.

I was there for a long time, an hour or more. My focus was complete and pure, my will iron, my intent sharp as an arrow. And Harrenhal responded. The stones flowed as if time were reversed. And my castle was more and more whole. And then suddenly the magic cut off, the spell completed with the fixes. I felt that the spell would soon collapse, but that I could make some small change with what time I had remaining.

I couldn’t think of what I wanted to do with the spare energies until suddenly it came to me. Piping. And with that thought, the stone flowed inside the walls, some pipes appearing to carry water and others waste. Then the massive working was complete.

Jon passed me a bit of food and water. My servants and guards looked on at me in fear and wonder, gossiping and chattering around the large yard but trying to avoid gaining my notice. When I finished with my food and drink I stretched out my arms, interwove my fingers and strained to put a nice pressure across my palms. Some of my fingers clicked at the action.

Then I gathered up my mana again and reached out to the stone once more. This time instead of moving the stone in a general fashion I blended it together, fused the different blocks and structures together, made the stones of the entire fortress a single perfect seamless piece. It was eerie and awesome, as if some sculptor had carved the massive fortress out of a lump of perfect grey crystal, or as if a god had made the whole thing in one go out of cement.

I was finished. It was better than new, a slick grey fortress of looming concentric walls, powerful bastions and immense towers rising up, the smooth stone almost shimmering as the sun broke through the clouds.

When I walked towards the castle’s people, they cheered.

Harrenhal was, without a doubt, mine.

Though I was sure that the interior furnishings would still need work.

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After that my people were pretty damned reverent, if intimidated. Even Jon and Daenerys were highly impressed, and they had experienced my magic before first hand. I spent the next three days going over my plans for our Agricultural and Industrial Revolutions, preparing for when I could properly move on my plans. My steward started rolling out the Four-Field rotation system and enclosures immediately, organizing what he could for the spring planting, but it would still take another full year before all of my fields were using it.

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My landowning farmers, who sat somewhere below a knight and above a peasant worker in the social hierarchy, tended to be fairly conservative. Most would wait for proof of success before starting a new method of farming; I was considering offering insurance if they’d make the leap, but was wary of being scammed. Then again, it was pretty hard to hide more-successful crops; the tax assessors, who were often part-time officials and the local village chiefs could see the extra plants growing.

I decided it was worth incentivizing the switch; those who did switch over their farms to the new system would be forgiven their grain tax for the next three years in proportion to how many fields they switched over. They would still be responsible for their duty to keep a certain amount of arms, perform a certain amount of training with the local militia, and be prepared to be drafted as part of my levy if necessary. The offer would only be good for these three years; in other words, if they switched next year, then they got two years of four-crop rotation tax free, the year after just one year without taxes, and after that I’d be back to collecting my share of a hopefully much increased harvest.

The magically optimized plants and animals would have to wait until I had time to experiment. That said, I did manage to bond with the Godswood there, all twenty acres of it, and gained three Green mana in the process.

Then it was time to go back to King’s Landing. This time Jon came with me, since I didn’t want him to miss the festivities. Dany, pregnant and not wanting to travel, nor particularly comfortable near Robert or at court in general, decided to stay behind at Harrenhal. It was a much brighter, happier place than when we had arrived, and much less likely to fall down on her head too, so I was content with the situation.

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Jon and I arrived back in King’s Landing to find space somewhat at a premium. The king’s marriage to the young lady Margaery of Highgarden had brought thousands of lords, knights and their entourages to the city. The Reach had sent forth the flower of its chivalrous youth to represent them, and the city was practically choked with arrogant young shits who were used to be the largest fish in very small ponds. They weren’t adapting to the city overly well, all charming and noble one moment then offended, petty and arrogant the next. A bunch of spoiled brats.

I sighed. I was being a bit unfair. One of the minor Reach nobles had had a collision with a merchant at the gate before we could enter. The lord was entirely at fault, far too happy to just charge ahead and expect that everyone not only would but could get out of his way in time. Then one of his carriages crashed into a wagon, and… it was a mess, and the gate was blocked.

After waiting a full half hour for it to get sorted with smaller and smaller amounts of patience left, I rode up there with Jon. The lord then got stroppy with me. Until he noticed Togo and realized who I was, at which point the lord paled and shut the fuck up. The small collision was fixed relatively soon after, but my mood towards these petty lordlings was still somewhat hostile.

Even the Red Keep was packed. Though that didn’t affect Jon or me much, as we had places in Ned’s tower. The day after we arrived, Robert brought Margaery to me to be improved. She was a beautiful girl, just turned sixteen, with soft brown hair, large soulful eyes, smooth skin and a slim but womanly figure.

In other words, she was totally Robert-bait. And by the gleam of intelligence in her eyes she knew it, and was using it. Not that I could blame her. Women’s lib wasn’t exactly a thing, and even if Robert wasn’t an absolute monarch, women were generally restricted in power by what their husbands allowed them. Given that Robert was the king, well, Margaery could have a lot of power or none of it, and it all depended on how well she could lead Robert about.

Robert walked up with her arm in arm. “Now, my dear, this is the great Odysseus Gangari that I told you about. Odysseus, my wife to be, Margaery,” he introduced, beaming. The man had already lost at least half of his excess flab in the weak I’d been gone, his regeneration working to restore him to a more optimal form. He looked years younger, fitter and healthier than he had been in a long time.

Robert had the habit of dropping titles among friends. I had not been granted any such dispensation, however. “Lady Margaery,” I said, bowing. “I’m sure his Grace –“ Robert glared at me, so I amended my statement before I found myself with a place on the small council “- Robert has told you already, but I’m not one for being formal. Please, call me Odysseus.”

She smiled. “I’ve already noticed that my husband-to-be shares that informality among friends. I hope very much that you will be one of mine, so please, call me Margaery.”

Robert was already impatient with the niceties. “Right, right, so the introductions are out of the way. Now, Odysseus, she didn’t truly believe me when I said you were a mage. Before she’ll agree to be improved, she’d like to see some magic.”

I laughed. “That is easily done, though once word spreads of what I did at Harrenhal I doubt it will be necessary.”

Margaery looked at me curiously. “What did you do at Harrenhal?” she asked. Robert seemed interested too.

I smiled widely. “I fixed it. I broke the curse there. I made the stones remember what they used to be. And then I fused them so that the entire castle is one single piece of stone, smooth as silk to the touch.”

Robert gaped. “By the gods! That would truly be a wonder to see!” he exclaimed.

“You’re always welcome to visit,” I replied. “Gods know I have enough space inside to fit you, though the furnishings still need to be replaced and repaired and the bats chased out. There is a long road ahead of me still before it is restored to true glory.”

Robert looked at me full of boyish charm and cunning. “But Harrenhal is not here.”

I raised my hands in surrender. “Alright, alright,” I said, looking around the room for something to show that wasn’t a combat spell. I spotted a bowl of fruit, and picked out an apple. I looked carefully at Robert and Margaery. He was in black and gold brocade, she a darker and lighter green brocade dress with gold accents.

Then the apple began to twist and turn, the flesh receding as the seeds grew into wood. The small sapling began to thicken in my hand, separate into two. Then as my audience watched raptly the two rough cylinders of wood got more shapely, grew arms and legs, heads and hair, even clothes out of the small leaves. Then the wood began to lighten to be like skin, and the clothes color until one of the figures was in black and gold, the other green and gold, fixed arm in arm.

I smiled, and handed Margaery the little figures. “A present to mark out meeting.”

She was astounded. “That was amazing,” she said softly, not wanting to break the wonder of the moment. “Like something out of story.”

Robert beamed at me, clapped me on the back. “Didn’t I tell you?” he asked rhetorically.

“I just hadn’t thought… how is this even possible?” she asked, still in awe.

“Magic,” I said, grinning.

“But…” Margaery trailed off. “I was going to say there is no such thing, but it is obvious that there is magic.”

“So, would you care for me to work my magic now?” I asked.

She began to nod then hesitated. “I do not mean to sound ungrateful, but…” she trailed off, not quite willing to speak.

“What is it?” Robert asked.

“My brother, Willas. He was crippled as a youth, and has trouble walking. Is it possible for you to heal him? I will forebear from any improvements myself if that is needed.”

Ned and Lord Mace Tyrell had been in negotiations to wed Sansa to Willas in a few years, just as I had hoped. They were planning on announcing it during the wedding. I had been planning on healing Willas then, and upgrading him to match what I gave Sansa at the same time so it was really no bother. Still, it was good of her to ask.

I looked at her kindly. “It does you well to think of your brother. But as you’re likely aware, he will be wedding Sansa Stark. I had already planned to offer him healing and similar enhancements to what you will soon have after the announcement.”

“Oh, thank you so very, very much,” she said, her eyes slightly tearing up in happiness. “How can I repay you?”

I shook my head. “There’s no need for that. Ned and Robert have been good friends to me, and I give them my loyalty and friendship in return.”

A few hours later, she was upgraded to match Robert, looking at her hands in marvel after a bit of pressure with a knife had done nothing more than leave a pressure-mark on the skin.

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I didn’t see much of Robert or Margaery for the rest of the week, as they were busy hosting the parties and celebrations leading up to the wedding. I did however meet her brother, Willas, whom I found very agreeable. I was sure that he and Sansa would get along well; by all reports their first meetings had already allowed them to develop a friendship.

I might not have been happy with dynastic marriages with such age gaps in general, but it was the local custom. If it was going to happen anyways, I thought Willas the best option for Sansa. I rather easily upgraded him, wished him the best of luck, and gave him a quick warning that I expected Sansa to be happy in the future. I didn’t think it a real issue, but just in case I figured the protection of a ridiculously lethal wizard who was rumored to be somewhat unhinged couldn’t hurt Sansa.

I also met Ser Edmure Tully, the heir to the Riverlands and my future liege lord. In place of his father, he took my oath of fealty. As Catelyn’s brother and my at-least-in-theory boss, I upgraded him to match Robert and Willas.

Come to think of it I needed to make my way back to Winterfell at some point and upgrade Robb, Bran, Rickon and Catelyn too.

Other than that, over the week I upgraded Robert and Margaery’s favorite horses as part of my gift to them, and acquired a dog which I gave all of Togo’s upgrades save for the massive size to help guard her for the rest of the gift. Then I realized their guards would need to be able to keep up, and made seven more horses for the kingsguard. I had time to spare, so I upgraded Sansa, Arya, and Ned’s horses too, and made sure their wolves were all up-to-date.

I had decided that super-animals might as well breed, if only in small numbers, and left them with a reduced but still present possibility to have colts and pups. Gods only knew what was going to happen when their progeny were first born. I needed to be present for Daenerys’ child’s birth, but even then the baby had been conceived before I added all those magics to Daenerys, and so had gotten all the upgrades that Daenerys got, in other words all the ones but the physique, at the same time as Dany.

A purely natural born animal from their improved parents could share all, some or none of the improvements, and I was excited and worried to find out what the case would be. I knew that I could make the enchantments a truly permanent part of the animal if they weren’t already and I wanted them to breed true. It would just need some research. Likewise, I could make the upgrades, the more magical and less biological ones at least, limited to just that animal, but again it would take research.

Then the week of celebrations came to a close, Robert and Margaery wedded and bedded, and the Queen’s Tourney kicked off.

Thankfully, I had had to have no part in planning or running it.

High in the sky a red comet blazed with fire. It was taken as a good omen by those attending the wedding.

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