288 AC, Raventree Hall
Lord Tytos's POV
The years following the birth of his son Bryden had been a time of unexpected unity and support within the Blackwood family. Despite past differences, they rallied around the child, aiding in his upbringing. The memory of Mellisa's prolonged pregnancy, lasting a staggering 21 months, still haunted Tytos. Yet, the miraculous healing abilities of their six-year-old son offered a glimmer of hope for any future ailments.
Marwyn's obsession with the arcane, particularly his self-inflicted wounds to test the limits of Bryden's healing sorcery, had initially unsettled Tytos. However, the boy's power was undeniable, having saved a farmer on the brink of death. Marwyn's suggestion to test the healing on the deceased was a step too far for Tytos, who refused to entertain the notion of necromancy.
Now, a new challenge presented itself: Bryden's desire to train with his cousin David under the tutelage of the master of arms. As Lord and Lady Blackwood awaited Marwyn in the lord's solar, they pondered the appropriate age for Bryden to begin his martial training and horse-riding lessons.
Marwyn entered with his characteristic smile, bowing respectfully. "You called for me, Lord and Lady Blackwood?" he inquired.
"We seek your counsel on when to commence Bryden's martial training," Mellisa began. "He's eager to join David in training and riding."
Tytos added, "He's only six but nearly as tall as his cousin. We believe it's time to introduce him to riding and simple sword drills."
Marwyn hesitated, cautioning against any activities that might strain the young lord. Yet Tytos insisted, knowing the importance of preparation during peacetime for the trials of war.
Marwyn proposed a demonstration in the forest, leading the family and a few Blackwoods to witness Bryden's capabilities firsthand.
In the forest, Marwyn directed Lord Tytos to strike an ironwood tree with all his might. The sword embedded deeply, requiring effort to withdraw. Then, to everyone's astonishment, he asked Bryden to do the same.
Mellisa protested, fearing for her son's safety, but Marwyn assured her of Bryden's well-being. With encouragement, Bryden lifted the longsword effortlessly, a feat that filled Tytos with pride.
"Bryden, swing as hard as your father did, and you may join David's lessons," Marwyn encouraged.
Bryden assumed an unusual stance, balancing the sword, on his shoulder and with a swift motion, the blade with a twirl passed cleanly through the tree, toppling it. Mellisa rushed to embrace her son, while Tytos and the others inspected the cleanly severed ironwood.
"How did you know this would happen?" Tytos asked Marwyn, still in disbelief.
"Cyvasse," Marwyn replied, revealing a steel game piece reshaped by Bryden's bare hands. The child's strength was such that steel felt like clay to him. Tytos held the steel piece in his hand and passed it around and noticed others trying their best to bend or break it with no success.
"Why did we not notice this before?" Mellisa wondered aloud, holding Bryden close.
Tytos realized they had overlooked the extraordinary in the mundane, recalling Bryden once carrying a box now in his room filled with a lot of colored stones, he had always assumed the boys to be carrying an empty box that they filled with colored stones later but it seemed that he had carried a box that should have weighed a lot even for him. It was a moment of revelation for the Blackwood's, recognizing the full extent of their son's extraordinary strength.
The Blackwood family had always been steeped in tradition, their roots as deep and ancient as the weir wood trees that stood sentinel over their lands. But with Bryden's birth, a new chapter had begun, one filled with magic and the promise of a future unbound by the constraints of the ordinary.
Lord Tytos watched his son, a mix of awe and trepidation in his heart. The boy who had once clung to his mother's skirts now wielded a sword with the might that even the strongest warrior in Westeros would not possess. The whispers of the past, of the Old Gods and their mysterious ways, seemed to find form in Bryden's very being.
As the family returned to the castle, the weight of responsibility settled upon Tytos's shoulders. He knew that Bryden's training would need to be tailored to his unique abilities. The boy would not only learn the arts of war and leadership but also how to harness the magic that flowed through his veins.
Mellisa, ever the protective mother, watched over Bryden with a vigilant eye. She saw the potential in her son, the power to heal and to protect. But she also saw the need for caution, for the world was not always kind to those who were different.
GERALD BLACKWOOD POV:
Gerald and his brother had returned to his solar at night, accompanied by Marwyn. Tytos, his brother, looked particularly haggard. Gerald understood the dilemma well—how does one train a person who is stronger and faster than oneself, someone who could inadvertently cleave you in two? His nephew had miraculously restored his arm, and for that, Gerald held him in high esteem. Yet, the ease with which the boy had felled an ironwood tree, treating it as if it were a mere twig, deeply unsettled him.
Marwyn had been correct about the lad, as usual. Gerald pictured their Master-at-Arms training the young squires, having them strike at a shield he held—a common test of strength for the novices. If they had allowed the boy to join in, he would have cleaved their Master-at-Arms in two, and all of the courtyards would have witnessed it. Gerald was torn between which was worse: the potential accidental slaying of the Master-at-Arms by his nephew or the inevitable leak of his nephew's extraordinary abilities to the world.
The mere rumor that his nephew could heal any injury or ailment was already a closely guarded secret. If word got out, everyone from the purebloods of Volantis to the mages of Qohor, and even the schemers in King's Landing, would covet the boy for themselves. Wealthy and powerful individuals suffering from ailments would pay any price for healing, and even those without need would see the opportunity to profit. Gerald envisioned wars sparked over his nephew and his bloodline. The inheritance of such powers by his nephew's progeny was uncertain, but the mere possibility would drive many to desperate measures.
"So, what do we do now?" Tytos inquired, his gaze shifting between the Master-at-Arms and the Maester, finding humor in the situation. It was indeed amusing—a lord seeking advice on martial training from a Maester.
"The Master-at-Arms must be made aware of your son's abilities. Furthermore, no ordinary weapon can be wielded by him. Your sword, which has served you for over seven years, has bent from a single swing by your son. Valyrian Steel might withstand his strength, but your house lacks such a blade. We must train your son in secret. I would also advise against him wielding spears or swords; Warhammers and great axes would be more suitable," the Maester suggested, impressing Gerald with his straightforward and practical solutions. It made Gerald appreciate the adage his father often quoted: 'the mind is sharper than any sword.'
"That resolves most of our concerns, but how do we explain Bryden's absence from training with his peers? As a lord, he is expected to demonstrate his martial prowess. Without it, he will face significant challenges in maintaining his lands," Tytos pointed out, and Gerald concurred.
"It won't matter once Bryden claims the Iron Throne and becomes the king of the Seven Kingdoms. Why should we concern ourselves with petty rumors in the Riverlands?" Marwyn interjected, startling both Blackwood brothers.
"That is a treasonous statement, Marwyn. I could have you executed for uttering such words," Tytos warned sternly. "We have sworn our oaths to House Tully, and as loyal bannermen, we are bound to uphold them," he declared with unwavering conviction, as if the notion of breaking his oaths was inconceivable.
"I disagree, brother," Gerald countered, earning a look of betrayal from Tytos. "When the world learns of what your son can do, it won't be those oaths that protect him—it will be his own strength. Consider if Holster Tully, Robert Baratheon, or—gods forbid—Tywin Lannister were to discover the extent of your son's magic. As he grows older, his magic and strength will only increase. What happens when he becomes powerful enough to stand against an army? What if the Faith denounces him as a demon from the seven hells? What if Targaryen loyalists learn that your child wields magic more potent than that of the dragon lords of Valyria? If Aerys Targaryen were still alive, he would have forced your child into a marriage with a Targaryen and disposed of him once he had sired enough offspring. Your beloved son would be reduced to mere breeding stock for the Targaryen's. Would you then accept Targaryen grandchildren, knowing your son was too powerful to be left alive? Or worse, they might castrate him to prevent any offspring from inheriting such formidable magic."
"NO!" Tytos erupted, his anger palpable, standing so abruptly that his chair toppled over. "I will say this once, and you will both listen carefully. We will not break our oaths. The Blackwood's will not be known as oath breakers. If the Iron Throne moves against my son for any reason—be it his power, perceived danger, or opposition from the Faith—I swear, I will call our banners and slay every lord or lady who stands against us, whether they be a Lord Paramount or the king himself. Any who oppose my son without just cause will be declared an enemy of House Blackwood. And even if it means the extinction of our house, I will not rest until they are buried ten feet under. This I vow before the old gods and the new," Tytos thundered, his voice resonating with a fierce promise that Gerald and Marwyn could not help but agree with.
"But I will not have you plant such treacherous ideas in my son's mind. If our lords attempt to harm my son, and if he grows powerful enough to become a threat to all of Westeros, then—and only then—will I consider taking the offensive," Tytos whispered, his quiet intensity sending shivers down their spines.
"Dismissed, both of you," Tytos concluded with a somber resignation, leaving Gerald and Marwyn to exit the room in contemplative silence.