Mellisa Blackwood's POV
The morning sun cast a golden hue over the ancient stones of Raventree Hall, where Mellisa Blackwood watched her son, Bryden, and his cousin, David, eagerly approach Ser Ryse Rivers. The master of arms was a tower of strength and discipline, his presence commanding the courtyard like a steadfast oak.
"Ser Ryse, why not wield two swords in battle, like the legendary Ser Arthur Dayne?" David asked with the wide-eyed innocence of youth.
Ser Ryse chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled like distant thunder. "Two swords require twice the mastery, young David. And gold," he continued, addressing another of David's fanciful questions, "is for crowns, not for cleaving."
Bryden, though but five years of age, stood beside his cousin, his support unwavering. Mellisa's heart swelled with pride at the sight of her son, his dark hair tousled by the wind, his eyes alight with the fire of curiosity.
As the boys' questions flew like arrows in a skirmish, Ser Ryse maintained his composure, his answers shaping their understanding of the knightly way. But when David's queries turned to bandits and glory, the master of arms set a firm hand upon the boy's shoulder.
"Valor is earned through discipline, not daydreams," Ser Ryse intoned. "Begin your drills, and let your sword speak for your heart."
David nodded, taking up the wooden sword with a determination that belied his tender years. Mellisa watched as her nephew swung at the straw dummies, his breath growing labored with exertion. Ser Ryse observed with a critical eye, yet there was a hint of a smile on his lips.
"Knights do not tire easily," he proclaimed, loud enough for all to hear. "And David Blackwood shows the makings of a true knight."
Bryden clapped his hands, cheering on his cousin. "You can do it, David! Show them what Blackwoods are made of!"
But as David's strength waned, Mellisa knew it was time to intervene. "Ser Ryse," she called out, her voice carrying across the courtyard. "David's lessons with Maester Marwyn await."
Relief washed over David's features, and he dropped the sword, scampering off toward the maester's tower. Ser Ryse's laughter followed him, a reminder to return the sword to its rightful place.
Bryden's gaze followed his cousin, a look of confusion crossing his cherubic face. "Why did David run away?" he asked, his small hand gripping Mellisa's.
"He has lessons to learn, just as you do," Mellisa replied, lifting her son into her arms. "But now, it's time for lunch. A growing Knight must eat."
Bryden's appetite was indeed that of a growing soldier, rivaling even that of his father, Lord Tytos. Mellisa remembered the days when three wet nurses had scarcely been enough to sate her son's hunger. Now, at five, he ate with a gusto that filled the great hall with his laughter.
Her thoughts drifted to a time when Bryden, barely a year old, had taken the Blackwood seal in his mouth, and any attempt to retrieve it had been met with a burst of flame.She had walked into the Lords Solar and found a legion of Blackwoods and their lord trying their level best to get near the heir and anyone came near were met with fire, she would have been more nervous about her sons proclivity to play with fire if not the fact they knew he was immune to his own fire at least. She remembered her son giggling and gnawing at the seal while her husband breathed a sigh seeing her. She had picked up her son and he had presented the seal to her as if it was a grand price and all that fire had cost at most was the carpet. Her son had calmed down at her touch and she felt astounded at her sons ability to generate flame on command.
Marwyn, the maester, had been instrumental in guiding Bryden's magical development. He had predicted the dangers a magical child might face and had taken every precaution to protect him. No one outside the family had seen Bryden's sorceries, save for a few instances thanks to Marwyn's foresight and the vigilance of the Blackwoods.
Yet, raising a child with such abilities was not without its challenges. Mellisa recalled nights when Bryden's giggles and the soft glow of orb of light had led the few servants that were sworn in on his abilities on a merry chases through the darkened corridors.
She remembered how when he was a baby, they used to find him with the sound of his giggling and fast paced motions with 3 to 4 servants chasing around him. When her smart child had figured it out, that they were chasing him with his own sound he had gotten completely silent, almost unnervingly she had seen two balls of light around her sons' feet and no matter what sounds he made it was quiet. She had picked him up again and he had stopped his mischiefs. She and her husband had a long talk with Marwyn and even he was surprised by yet another sorcery of his son to silence all movement around him at will.
The nature of Bryden's magic was a mystery that Mellisa and Tytos with Marwyn had pondered over many a long night. They had scoured ancient texts and consulted with Marwyn's vast network, yet no title seemed to fit their son—a mage, a sorcerer, a warg, a greenseer? None captured the essence of Bryden's powers.
His abilities continued to manifest in surprising ways. Mellisa had once witnessed her son breathe fire onto a morsel of food, warming it with a whispered incantation. The magic was a part of him, as natural as breathing.
The most astonishing display of Bryden's power had come when Tytos's brother, missing a hand from a battle with pirates, had recounted his tale of heroism. Bryden, moved by the story, had touched the stump and chanted, "Erdtree heal." Before the astonished eyes of the Blackwoods, the hand regrew, fingers and all.
"Now you can fight the bad pirates again, uncle," Bryden had said, his voice filled with the innocence of childhood.
The servants present had been sworn to secrecy, their silence bought with gold. But the incident had bound the family closer, their shared secret a testament to the extraordinary child in their midst.
As Mellisa led Bryden to the main hall, her mind was filled with thoughts of the future. What path would her son's magic take? How would it shape the destiny of House Blackwood? These questions lingered, unanswered, as she watched her son tuck into his meal with the voraciousness of a young wolf.
The legacy of the Blackwoods was steeped in mystery and magic, and Bryden, with his golden eyes and fiery spirit, seemed destined to carry that legacy forward. Mellisa knew that whatever the future held, it would be marked by the extraordinary tale of her son—the boy who could summon fire and heal with a word.