Damian felt an invigorating surge coursing through his body, its source an enigmatic font. A tingling sensation played across his muscles, a delicate interplay of discomfort and intoxication. His visage, marked by a slight flush, betrayed a night seemingly spent in the hearty company of Robert.
"You must be tired. Rest for the night. We'll reach Pyke early in the morn. Make the most of the reprieve," advised Ned.
With a nod, Damian acknowledged the fatigue. Returning to his ship and then to the Space realm, he patiently awaited the waning of the transformative currents for about half an hour.
"Phew! Feels like I've crammed a month's workout and rest into a single hour," Damian muttered to himself. He needed to test how strong has he become but that could wait.
"Now, let's delve into the other rewards," he decided, turning his attention to the trio of Druidic spells bestowed upon him for steering the destiny of Iron Island and Westeros.
With the intricacies of the spells seamlessly etched into his consciousness, Damian found himself adept at casting all three after some initial experimentation.
Being currently within the confines of the space world, the spell 'Know Weather' failed to function as intended. However, the other two spells proved their efficacy. Damian decided to put them to immediate use. He retrieved a mango seed from the warehouse, planting it in the soil. With a flourish of Magic power, he cast the spell 'Accelerate Plant Growth.'
"Cothromachadh an toradh, a' brosnachadh beathachd,
Suas leis a' ghrèin, gu na frasagan leòmach,
Guthan na dùthaich, a' seinn an orain àrd,
Sìorraidh is luath, fàsaidh na h-ùile gu mòr."
Which translates to:
[Nature's pulse, swift and strong,
Awaken seeds, where they belong.
With whispered words of leaf and vine,
Speed their growth, in rhythm divine.]
Damian enunciated the incantation audibly, ensuring precise pronunciation with each syllable. Concurrently, he steadily channelled his mana into the seed. Yet, it wasn't just his mana; the ambient magic in the nearby land also surged into the seed, instigating instantaneous transformations.
Within a mere two seconds of completing the incantation, the seed sprouted, breaking through the soil's surface. The stem continued to burgeon and branch until it surpassed Damian's height. At the halfway point of depleting his mana, the mango plant had matured, already yielding fruits.
Witnessing the spell's efficacy filled Damian with exhilaration. This development brought some of his plans to expand the influence of the Old Gods' religion in Westeros closer to reality. The heart of this faith rested in the weirwoods, and if these accelerated growths continued throughout the South, accompanied by beneficial transformations in the land around them, more individuals might be inclined to revert and embrace the Old Gods' religion.
The third spell 'Oakskin' was a little harder but Damian was successful in casting it eventually.
"Trí chrann dúchais, draíochtúil agus dian,
Grafaire an chrainn, crógacht ag tús.
I scáthanna, éiríonn neart,
Cosaint an dair, sciath gan gá"
[By lineage's tree, enchanted and stark,
Bark's soothing embrace, resilience embark.
In the shadows, strength does awaken,
Oak's defence, a shield unshaken.]
The enchantment worked like a charm, and Damian could sense the mana surging to the surface of his skin, creating a delightful, tingling sensation. To his amazement, his hands took on a greyish hue, resembling the distinctive bark of a Weirwood more than the usual Oak tree. Odd as it seemed, the spell did precisely what it was meant to do—fortify his defences.
His skin now boasted an extra layer of resilience without sacrificing his nimble movements. The only trade-off was a slight dampening of sensory feedback, a potential drawback or advantage depending on the circumstances. Regardless, this magical safeguard significantly reduced the odds of him getting hurt, making it harder for blades to find their mark.
What made this spell even more appealing was its versatility. Damian had the option to target specific areas of his body, selectively hardening the skin. This not only enhanced the subtlety of the enchantment but also decreased the likelihood of others catching wind of his mystical augmentation. Quite the handy trick for a skilled sorcerer like himself.
The enchantment bestowed upon Damian exhibited a temporary nature, its effects grace him for a span of five to six hours. After this allotted time, he would find himself compelled to reinvigorate the spell once more to ensure a continuous shield of defence.
Now, it was time for Damian to delve into the final two rewards bestowed upon him as a newly appointed Lord.
First on the list was the coveted free magic spell voucher, a token of immense potential. Eager to make the most of it, he promptly redeemed the voucher. As he did, a holographic screen materialized before his eyes, presenting a comprehensive catalogue of every magic spell ever conjured in the annals of Planetos. The array was staggering, ranging from the secrets behind the forging of Valyrian steel to the enigmatic dark and blood spells. Even the incantation utilized by the mysterious Others to resurrect the deceased into eerie zombies was laid bare.
Yet, Damian found himself in a bittersweet predicament. Each spell, despite its allure, carried its own set of restrictions and drawbacks. Some demanded the blood of the cold Others for the resurrection of the dead, rendering them impractical for him. The process of crafting Valyrian steel involved a complex interplay of various spells, rendering a single one useless in his pursuit. As for the dark and blood spells, they exacted significant sacrifices, taking a toll on one's psyche or lifespan. Moreover, some mandates stipulated unwavering faith in dark deities for the magic to take effect.
Surveying this magical banquet, Damian couldn't help but acknowledge the intricacies and challenges that came with the pursuit of powerful spells. The path to mastery was indeed fraught with hurdles and choices, each option demanding careful consideration.
Without a moment's hesitation, Damian brushed aside the spells laden with drawbacks, seeking instead those that held no adverse effects on his own well-being and required no allegiance to any specific deity, save for the venerable Old Gods.
The selection swiftly narrowed down, but Damian was undeterred. His discerning gaze alighted upon a host of promising spells—incantations to conjure flames, bend water to his will, unleash lightning, sculpt the earth and stones, peer into the tapestry of the future or delve into the secrets of the past. The possibilities were enticing, each spell carrying the potential to unlock a new facet of his magical repertoire.
"Aghh, it's so hard to choose." Damian was finding it difficult to redeem just one spell when so many were so alluring to him.
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