(Erlend Mudd, Twilight Isles)
"Another Lannister rat?" Lorimas let out an irritated growl.
"It seems so. He's quite persistent, I can give him that." Dalia sighed.
It was the third Lannister spy they've caught so far. Those lot seemed to appear at every inopportune moment, causing the last two remaining Mudds a genuine headache.
A week had not gone by where a new spy wasn't discovered. The Lannister lord wasn't giving up on this matter. It was ironic that he continued to offer ludicrous amounts of gold while simultaneously attempting to steal the legendary blade.
At the least, Erlend was grateful for the distraction these attempts provided. It had been a month since his mother's passing and dealing with Lannisters' nonsense gave him an outlet to let his grief out.
The less said about his father's disappearance the better.
"Shouldn't we do something about this?" Erlend asked curiously.
"As much as I'd love to, we can't afford to at the moment. The Wardens have been stretched too thin and we have little influence on the other side of the narrow sea."
"We could send a petition to King Aerys, he might be able to bring the old lion to heel." his aunt suggested.
Lorimas snorted at the thought of it, "That could easily backfire, I wouldn't be surprised if that mad shit decided to congratulate Tywin on his attempts or just mock him to his face."
Either of those two scenarios would probably only intensify his attempts.
"So much for being childhood friends. Then again he is a Targaryen."
"He does dislike our house a lot." Erlend pondered.
"Your ancestors did kill some of the last dragons, even if it has been centuries since then," Dalia said.
"Enough of that, how has your practice been going Lenny?" His uncle decided to redirect to a safer topic.
Then again to the wrong ears, it could be a more dangerous one. You can never really know.
While Lorimas was pretty open to him about their present circumstances, he preferred that Erlend didn't dwell on them too long.
A naive if understandable stance, the man cared about him, and to Erlend, as someone who knew just how fucked up this world was, that was something he genuinely appreciated even if it was unneeded.
You could try and count the amount of actual decent people in this world, but you'd have to continuously update that particular stat, seeing as it goes down by the minute. An exaggerated statement perhaps, but one that holds a lot of truth to it.
"As well as it can be. I made a mess of things at the start but hopefully, I'll be able to get a hang of things soon enough."
"That's great to hear. To think one of our line would be so blessed, truly the gods look favorably upon us in these trying times." The look of pride on his Uncle's face was clear for all to see.
Shaking her head at her husband's antics, "Make sure you don't overdo it too much Lenny, keep it manageable." Dalia cautioned.
With her family's lands so close to Oldstones, he knew Aunt Dalia was at least aware of the more unnatural side of the world.
It used to essentially be to the Riverlands what Harrenhal currently was to the rest of Westeros.
That didn't stop her from worrying, but she was optimistic about its use.
She had been pretty accepting of his magic since he accidentally revealed it. Both of them were well aware of it now and had insisted on setting up a private area where he could practice it freely.
His uncle's words when he found out were, "It's just another way for you to protect yourself, that's what matters the most."
It helped that his family had been trying to understand magic much better since their exile. Choosing to explore their inherent talent in runes and rituals to survive the countless enemies that haunted their every step.
Not enough that they could fully rely on it, but enough to make a difference.
Lorimas nodded at his wife's words, "As your aunt said, be careful Erlend. I don't want to find you overextending yourself."
"I won't, Uncle. I'll be careful." no reason for him to pull anything drastic just yet, he still had time after all.
"Chin up lad, I have a surprise for you later. It's something you'll like."
Looking curiously at his Uncle, Erlend wondered what exactly this surprise would be. Knowing his Uncle it could be anything, from a sword to the shell of some long-forgotten ancient crab.
As long as wasn't anything too ridiculous, he would be fine with it.
…
Magic wasn't something easily taken to.
Erlend could not call himself a master of magic, hell he only just started learning about it.
Still, It couldn't be denied that magic could achieve some of the most unbelievable feats, create the greatest wonders, and bring forth miracles that few could ever replicate.
Only, he had managed to make a mess of things.
Initially, he had attempted to strong-arm his newly awakened power.
The raw emotions he felt from the death of his mother and the disappearance of his father had largely fueled whatever endeavor he took to force it to do what he sought.
Which had proved successful at first.
Then it tapered off… somehow it wasn't enough.
He could force the earth around him to take whatever shape he wanted to, but he didn't understand how it happened.
Yes, magic could force it to become reality, but it also required visualization and consistent focus on the task at hand.
There was no half-assing it as he would come to learn since whatever he forced into being didn't last long, it would crumble the second his attention shifted.
That was a very troublesome issue.
People say that you just need focus, intent, and imagination. The problem with that was the fact that he was still a damn child, that shit didn't come easy.
Not with how his current physical makeup made it impossible to keep calm and steady.
It was as if there was always something nearby that could distract him from his task and disrupt his focus.
Other reincarnators made it seem easy, but he would be damned if they weren't lying through their teeth or they were doing this shit on easy mode.
This world's magic was still primal, meaning it did not always respond to his desire, and even resisted on occasions.
It was like a wild beast that would strike at anything it viewed as looking remotely aggressive.
That annoyed him without a doubt, but he could not force it, which had been his first mistake.
By purely using his emotions to get what he wanted, Erlend had effectively been whipping the magic around him to achieve his desired goal.
Sure he could try and continue relying on the anger and hatred he felt for those that harmed his family, but that was a flawed method.
One that could get him killed if tried to use it on the blasted night king.
Did he fear the danger that the ice corpse represented? Absolutely. This wasn't the same corpse pick that was stabbed by Arya while his walkers just stood aside and watched.
The fucker was intelligent and far more dangerous, seeing as how he effectively began taking over other worlds once he was done with this one.
Like holy shit, how the hell did he manage to figure out how to use the weirwood trees as a sorta pseudo gateway to travel. Something that would need to be looked into.
It hinted at a level of intelligence that rang alarm bells through his mind.
Unsurprisingly, ever since that realization struck him. Erlend has attempted to change the way he approached this.
Hence, the current state he found himself in.
The problem was that his initial attempts at using his magic had inadvertently made it quite uncharitable to him.
Was it sentient? Maybe… that was a real distinct possibility unlike with other worlds where magic seemed more controlled and systemic. This one felt freer, if weaker.
That was probably caused by its weakening. Thanks in no small part to the actions of the idiotic valyrians attempting to play God.
Thankfully things seemed to be looking up.
Since he stopped clutching the idiot stick, Erlend had slowly but surely been coaxing the primal force into a more cooperative relationship.
That sounded like a particularly toxic relationship but there was little he could do about it.
The irony did not escape him, its main other choices were either bending to the will of a popsicle or a probable fire demon.
Sure there were other deities around, but their influence was fairly weak, even the seven who are one, despite their vast following, had very little say in the actions of their followers. It was something the more academically inclined of his kin had looked into to understand their past enemies better.
Whatever the reason might be, ever since the Andals left their ancestral homelands and sailed to Westeros, the connection they had to the seven waned. If he had to describe it, it felt more like the Andals squeezed their patrons for all they were worth than proceeded to strike on their own.
What remained were simply empty platitudes sent their way during particularly significant days.
On paper they appeared to be one of the most powerful deities around, holding the faith of the most populated half of a whole damn continent. In reality, they had little power; no one even could remember what particular magic their followers used to wield.
All in all, Erlend seemed like the tame option in comparison, even if it was playing hard to get and it showed.
The earth around him changed far more easily to what he wanted it to be, even if it required his utmost attention. Hell, it would be a nightmare when he eventually tried to make it a subconscious ability.
Imagining himself commanding men in battle while the very land around him swallowed his enemies sounded cool as hell.
Better yet, forcing whole castles to crumble on themselves felt particularly amusing. He knew how much pride most nobles had in their ancestral keeps, it would be a shame if they happened to fall apart.
Preferably while they were still in it.
Unfortunately, that seemed like a dream, at the least, he wasn't looking forward to putting such thoughts into practice because it wasn't going to be easy.
Trying to feel the magic around him once again, Erlend felt as if his body was dunking itself into freezing water.
Curiosity, trepidation, and grudging acceptance could be felt, but they were dwarfed by the feelings of annoyance that seemed to assault his mind.
Rolling his eyes 'Still pissed at my terrible first try.' Erlend didn't let it overwhelm him.
It wasn't like he knew that relying purely on his emotions was the wrong way to go about things.
Still a whole lot better than sacrificing babies or burning slaves at least.
…
Three beautiful rocks lay on his desk, one black as the midnight sea, alive with scarlet ripples and swirls, the second a deep green with burnished bronze flecks, and last but not least a bronze one streaked with flecks of gold.
"The Farmen eggs!" Erlend muttered.
"Aye, got them from the magisters of Pentos, apparently they needed to keep their gold so this was their payment" Lorimas confirmed.
The Banners have protected the former Slaver city from their most recent Dothraki raiders.
"I take it this was the surprise you mentioned earlier."
"Figured it would be useful to you. Those qartheen warlocks wanted them, so they must have some magic that might interest you."
"You're much smarter than you look, Uncle." Erlend chuckled, this would help so much in progressing his magic. He could practically feel it vibrating around him in excitement as if sensing his thoughts.
Eyeing the eggs warily "Don't do anything stupid Lenny, take care of yourself." Lorimas cautioned he didn't want to see his nephew get burned by these things.
Seven knows Essos was filled with enough foolhardy amateur sorcerers.
Acknowledging his uncle's words, "No sacrificing virgins, got it." He couldn't help but quip.
Shaking his head at his nephew, Lorimas left, there was still much to do after all. While things had cooled down significantly, it did not change the fact that he had to continue presenting a strong front, lest someone decided to take another shot.
Erlend for his part kept staring inquisitively at the eggs, sensing a faint connection that resonated with them. Perhaps it was the Targaryen blood that lay dormant in him or was merely magic seeking to reignite itself, through him.
Whatever it was, it was begging him to do something.
Almost instinctively his magic spread out, inching closer to the eggs and shrouding them with his aura. Around him, everything seemed to disappear becoming blurry and unfocused.
Only the eggs remained clear to his sight, their gorgeous colors seeming to deepen the longer his aura covered them.
Pleasant palpitations spread throughout his body. Leaving him with even more questions than before.
These eggs were going to be important to him and not in just the magical sense.
"Might as well as get myself settled," This would take a while, at the least shrouding these eggs would give him better control over his magic.
…
For several moons Erlend found himself shrouding the eggs with his magic or aura as he called it.
This led to the unintended side effect which was the continuous gathering of wildlife near the manor, somehow getting past the settlements undetected all just to get closer to the source of the aura.
The effects it has on the environment were quite beneficial, as well as made the wildlife more docile to his commands.
However, it also proved to be too troublesome, to the point that his Uncle specifically had special grounds built at the outskirts of the settlement for Erlend to practice in peace.
The special grounds were nearly constantly put under guard by the Wardens, with only the Mudd family being allowed to enter it.
Sure this was in no way foolproof, hell the events this year all suggested that the vaunted invincibility that his family had practically been known for since the doom, was just a farce.
Still, he was confident he would be able to sense anyone who tried to do anything, shrouding his eggs has made magic more pliant and consumed far less energy than it did before. It was as if magic itself was aware of the implications of a successful hatching.
Erlend would take the win, this was after all a perfect chance to get his own pet of mass destruction.
Speaking of the eggs, they seemed to shimmer more like polished metal seeking to attract the sunlight and becoming more eye-catching as the days went by.
Quite pleasant in comparison to the tiresome day he had been having.
It had been a rather grueling day, training in the sweltering heat for hours on end could exhaust even the most disciplined of soldiers, let alone a child, and despite being older mentally and being more capable than anyone his age had any right to be, his body didn't take too kindly to it.
The amusement of the Wardens was felt but he wisely chose to remain silent lest he ended up embarrassing himself. They did after all go through a much harsher training regimen.
As usual, the dragon eggs shimmered near the firepit built at the center of the grounds. Swiftly seating himself next to them, and beginning to spread his aura to them, revitalizing himself in the process and easing his aching muscles.
To Erlend's surprise in the process of putting his mind at ease, a crackling sound could be heard, it was near silent at first, and if it wasn't for his own enhanced hearing it was unlikely that anyone would've noticed it.
Opening his eyes, Erlend stared intensely at the eggs as they began to shake, feeling them come alive and shaking with great agitation.
A crunch could be heard as one of them broke apart, allowing a gorgeous serpentine creature to break free, with no hesitation the little being quickly latched itself on to him.
Not long after the other two followed suit, as he did his best not to get ahold of himself at the needy little tykes, a quiet cough made itself known in the background.
"Never thought a dragon would look so snakelike." Erlend could practically feel the awe in his Uncle's voice despite the confusion.
Aunt Dalia held no qualms in smacking him in the head to confirm what she was seeing, as she looked wide-eyed at the three little dragons.
"They're just built different," was his response, feeling three unique auras gradually bonding themselves to himself.
The affection he felt for these little things was confusing, to say the least, but he would not deny it.
Stroking the golden one's head, Erlend felt things finally look up for him.
"Welcome to the family," he murmured warmly, his eyes staring deeply into the little one's own.