I woke up to the warm sunlight filtering in through the window, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. I stretched my limbs, feeling a sense of calm wash over me. My gaze fell upon Freya, who was still asleep, looking peaceful as ever. The sight of her lying on top of me brought a smile to my face, reminding me of the wonderful moments we had shared together.
It had only been a few days since my return home from the forest, and Freya had all but moved into the clinic, spending most of her time by my side.
Despite my best efforts, progress had been slow, and I felt frustrated at times. I longed to discover the full extent of my abilities and unleash their true potential.
As I was lost in my thoughts, I heard a soft knock on my door, which jolted me back to reality. Freya stirred slightly, but I gently placed her back on the bed, not wanting to disturb her peaceful slumber.
Quickly putting on my clothes, I made my way to the door, wondering who could be there at this early hour. To my surprise, it was Ned, standing patiently with a sense of urgency etched on his face.
"Good morning, Ned! Come on in. What brings you here so early?" I asked him.
"I received a raven from Dragonstone today," he said. "You're being called back south again."
"What? Why?" I asked, puzzled.
"Stannis' daughter has contracted greyscale," he replied solemnly.
My mind raced as I tried to remember the details of this particular plotline. "How long has it been?" I inquired.
"I'm not sure," Ned admitted, "but the letter mentioned that the maester was able to stop the spread initially, but she seems to have gotten worse after that."
"Will you go?" he asked.
I really didn't want to go. I hadn't even started my dragon project yet, even though my travel time would be much less now that I had figured out how to fly.
On the other hand, it would give me an opportunity to explore Dragonstone. I'm sure I'll be able to uncover something left behind by the Targaryens that is still hidden.
"I do want to help the girl but I just got back, and I don't want to leave so soon again."
"What do you want to do then?"
I gave the matter some thought "Hmm, any chance you can find someone who has greyscale nearby?"
"It might be possible, why?"
"If there is someone who has greyscale, I can study them and make a cure and send it to them instead of going myself." I explained
"Will it be faster?"
"Depends on how fast you can find someone and how close they are."
"I doubt there is anyone in Winterfell who is suffering from greyscale, but I'll have someone ask around just in case."
"Ok, if you find someone soon, then the problem is solved. If not, I'll go to Dragonstone in person."
"Very well," he said as he left.
I went back inside and noticed that Freya was still sleeping. The scene distracted me from all the work I was supposed to be doing.
'Meh, it's not like I need to go now,' I thought to myself. I jumped back into bed to cuddle with Freya for a few more hours.
I felt like I was forgetting something, but I just shrugged it off. Whatever it was, I would deal with it later.
After some time I couldn't go back to sleep so I left a note instead of waking Freya and made my way out. I had the feeling that I was probably going to end up on my way to Dragonstone soon, so I might as well take a walk around Winterfell for some fresh air.
I reached the edge of town and just sat on a wall looking at the clouds drifting by and my thoughts wandered back to my forest .
There was a house there now in the clearing that I had first landed in that I had employed my rats to build, made up of bricks and mud. They were still working diligently like ants on expanding the house. I would eventually build a bigger one after I could use my abilities on plants, but it would do for now.
I had figured out some things about the effects of my new heart. I had gained absolute control over fire. It had sort of merged in a weird way with my actual powers. The aura that flared up around me when I wanted to was actually a fire. I just didn't realize it because it didn't burn anything unless I wanted it to.
I could even heal people with my flames, so now I could actually make the healing pyre that I had set up in King's Landing as a distraction.
Setting things on fire was fun and oddly therapeutic. No wonder there was an entire religion based on setting things on fire. Best not to go down that rabbit hole for now.
As I thought of ways to get better with my magic, I realized I needed to get my hands on some Valyrian texts about magic to gain a better understanding.
While I could have gone to the Citadel where I was sure to find some books the greedy rats had been hiding away, I had already made plans to deal with them and didn't want to risk those plans by going there just yet.
Lost in thought, I made my way back to the clinic where I found Freya making something.
"What smells so good?" I asked, intrigued by the delicious aroma wafting through the air.
"Pasta"
"What's the occasion?"
"The occasion is your leaving again," she replied, not even bothering to look up from the pot she was stirring.
"How do you know?" I inquired, surprised by her blunt response.
"I have my ways," she retorted with a sly smile.
"Won't be as long as last time, just a few days," I assured her, hoping to put her at ease.
"I thought you were going to Dragonstone," she said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.
"I am," I confirmed with a nod.
"So how will you be back in a few days?" she asked, her tone challenging me to come up with a convincing answer.
"I have my ways," I repeated, a mischievous grin spreading across my face.
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It was with great anticipation that he awaited the arrival of the mercenaries he had hired to carry out his plan on the outskirts of White Harbor.
He loathed the fact that he had to come this far north for knowledge but he was willing to make the sacrifice.
His heart was set on acquiring whatever secrets the Mage had taught the girl, and he had already envisioned the wealth of information he would gain from them.
He had seen the notes sent by Maester Luwin to the Citadel, discussing the cause of various diseases, and he was eager to delve deeper into that knowledge.
As the hours passed by and the hired mercenaries failed to show up, a sense of disappointment and frustration began to take hold of him. He had been counting on obtaining valuable knowledge from them, and the thought of his plan failing was a bitter pill to swallow. However, he consoled himself that he could always send more mercenaries to get the job done correctly.
But he knew that this was just a minor setback in their grand scheme. Their ultimate objective was to get rid of the White Mage, as they believed that magic had no place in the new world that the masters had been trying to build for centuries. To achieve this, he and his fellow maesters had been working on a potent form of poison that could even kill a dragon. They planned to use it to erase the White Mage's from history.
Although losing the chance to gain the Mage's knowledge was regrettable, he believed that it was a small price to pay for their ultimate goal. They could always obtain the information they needed later. He was determined to learn everything he could to satisfy his curiosity, no matter the cost.
However, his disappointment was short-lived as a figure appeared in the distance, making its way towards him. The sight of the mercenary he had hired filled him with a glimmer of hope that his trip had been worth it after all. But as the figure drew closer, he realized that the man was in a terrible state. His body was covered in cuts and bruises, his feet bare and bleeding. The sight of the battered mercenary sent a chill down his spine, and he knew that something had gone terribly wrong.
"What happened? Where is the girl? Were you caught?" he asked, desperate for answers.
The mercenary's reply was grim. "Yes, we were caught. Everyone else is dead. I was able to escape by playing dead until he left," the mercenary said, his voice hoarse and strained.
He felt a knot form in his stomach as the mercenary's words sank in. "Did the healer catch you?" he asked, his mind racing with possibilities.
At the mention of the mage, the mercenary's body shuddered in fear. "That man was no healer. He was a monster. There was nothing simple about him. He killed everyone else," the mercenary said before he started vomiting blood.
As he knelt beside the wounded mercenary, he could see the fear and desperation in the man's eyes.
"Help me," he pleaded.
But before he could even respond, the mercenary's body convulsed and he began bleeding from every orifice. The scene that unfolded before him was something out of a nightmare. He caught the dying man and tried to get more answers out of him, but it was all for naught as he watched the life drain from his body.
As he frantically tried to stem the bleeding, the mercenary's labored breathing grew weaker and more ragged. Despite his best efforts, it was clear that the man's injuries were too severe. And then, with a final, desperate gasp, the mercenary's body went limp.
He sat there in stunned silence, staring at the lifeless form before him. The reality of what had just happened hit him like a ton of bricks, and he couldn't help but shudder in horror and fear.
He knew that he needed to get out of there before he was seen next to the dead mercenary. As he tried to wipe the blood off his clothes, he failed to notice a shimmer in the air hovering above him. It followed him as he stumbled out of the abandoned warehouse, his mind racing with questions and doubts.
The world around him seemed to blur as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had never been in a situation like this before, and he was struggling to keep it together. The sound of his own footsteps echoed in the empty streets, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.
But he didn't have time to dwell on it. He needed to focus on his escape, to find a way out of this forsaken place before it was too late.