Chapter 19 1 страница

Standing in the center of the grand Citadel library, Darth Nox, formerly of the Sith Empire, allowed himself just a moment to simply stand and marvel at what he was seeing. The library within the Citadel was, quite simply, awe inspiring even for one such as himself. The library of Winterfell was impressive, but the Citadel was something else completely. An apt comparison would be to liken Winterfell's library to his own private collection and then to liken the Citadel to the entirety of the archives on Korriban, both those known to everyone and the one known only to the Dark Council. The part of him that had once been the Head of the Ancient Pyramid of Knowledge had immediately started to try and sort the best possible way to acquire as much knowledge from this place as possible. But, given the sheer size of the place and the fact that he didn't have an army of acolytes to dedicate to the job, he was left with the unfortunate conclusion that even if he spent his lifetime in this place, he would barely scratch the surface of what was here. As it were, he'd already set Jon and Robb to work aiding in the sorting through the information pertaining to House Stark and the North that was kept by the ousted Order of the Guiding Hand.

Sensing an intruder to his observations, Nox turned as a dark-skinned young acolyte made their way around the shelves. Strangely enough, this acolyte of the Citadel did not seem to be trying to avoid him, quite the opposite in fact as he could sense no trepidation coming from the acolyte as they approached him. " My Lord Nox, I was sent by Archmaester Marwyn. He wishes to speak with you in his private chambers if you are willing. "

" Lead the way…"

" Alleras, my Lord. Though many here referrer to me as Sphinx. "

" A curious name, but an apt one for a place such as this, " Nox replied, motioning for the young acolyte to lead the way out of the library and up a flight of stairs.

As they walked, Nox took careful note of the acolyte leading him. They hid it well, but there was a rather acute peculiarity about the acolyte that amused Nox. Mostly because of how brazen it was, and because it also went to show just how blind the Maesters truly are in certain respects. But there was another thing about the acolyte that drew his attention. It was faint, barely a glowing ember, but this young acolyte had a touch of Force sensitivity. Something that he was finding to be more and more common the longer he stayed on this world. It almost made him wonder if the people of this world were a near-human species much like the Miraluka's, who as a species were all Force-sensitive. Or perhaps there was a chance that he was not the first Force sensitive to arrive at this planet and that many of the people of this world were descendants of that Force sensitive. It gave him something to ponder. And honestly, it wouldn't have surprised him if that was the case. There were still well-preserved records of the war between the Sith and the Ratakan Empire on Korriban that occurred nearly twenty-thousand years ago. So, he wasn't about to rule anything out just yet.

" Tell me, Alleras. Your Archmaester Marwyn seemed to know of our impending arrival. I have several ideas about just how this is possible, but perhaps you would be willing to shed some light on the subject. "

Amusement poured out from the young acolyte as they reached one of the uppermost levels of the Citadel and started down a short stretch before stopping in front of a nondescript door with no identifying markings that Nox could discern. " Archmaester Marwyn will be happy to disclose that information to you, Lord Sorcerer. In fact, I do believe that is the very reason why he is so interested in speaking with you now. He's been as giddy as a maiden bride since he learned of your impending arrival. I do believe that he will be taking the rest of your time while you are here present in the Citadel, my Lord. "

The room Alleras led him into was…well, organized chaos was the best term that Nox could use to describe it. Stacks of books nearly shoulder high were spaced evenly throughout the room, every wall was covered by shelves that were filled to the brim with loose paper, books, and relics of various designs. But while the chaos around him was jarring, it immediately fell to the back of his mind as he spied a glowing green glass candle that stood alone in the center of one of the many desks that were within the room. A relic that he just happened to know quite well, seeing as how he'd gathered a large chest full of them during the Valyria expedition just a few months past. " So that is how you knew I was coming, " Nox muttered to himself as he walked into the room, taking care not to disturb any of the chaos around him as he made his way to the glowing glass.

" Ah, Lord Nox, " the Archmaester called out from behind a stack of books that was large enough for the man to hide behind, " I apologize for having pulled you away from your studies, but I was hoping that, now that certain unpleasantries have been seen to, that we might have a chat. Just…give me one…moment…to finish this…"

" Take your time, Archmaester, " Nox replied as he came to a stop before the glass candle, taking note of the slight pulses from the Force that was emanating from the inanimate object. " You have until Stark and Hightower are ready to leave the city to ask whatever questions you will. "

He could hear the Archmaester working fast to finish whatever it was that had him preoccupied as the acolyte Alleras stepped up beside him. " I heard it said that you, the Northmen, and a Dornish Prince made a venture into the ruins of Old Valyria. " There was a slight hitch in the acolyte's voice that was almost unnoticeable when the acolyte mentioned the Prince, which only went to reaffirm the theory that Nox had about the acolyte. 'Quite brazen indeed. Must run in the family. ' " Archmaester Marwyn has made a lifetime of studying this very candle and the three others that are used as a test to the acolytes before they become full Maesters. But it's only recently that he's been able to discern what it can do. And it was how we knew of your impending arrival, Lord Sorcerer. "

'That solves that mystery, ' Nox thought. " You two used it as a way to see across a great distance I gather, " Nox stated, drawing the acolyte up short. " We collected a number of artifacts like this one, and I have spent some time studying them. Far sight is just the beginning of what it can do and is, quite frankly, perhaps of least value of its full potential. But still, for two individuals like yourselves who lack formal training, being able to unlock that aspect of the relic is quite an achievement. "

" Your praise is much appreciated, Lord Nox, " Archmaester Marwyn stated, finally coming out from around the pile of books he'd been behind. " Though I do feel that young Alleras here takes a touch of offense at being considered a novice considering the years of study the two of us have poured into the mystic arts. But you are correct in that neither of us have had formal training, or at least what you consider 'formal training'. A fact that I hope you will be able to correct now that you are here. "

Pausing in his study of the glowing crystal, Nox took a moment to get a feel of both Marwyn and Alleras once more. Marwyn had more than a touch of Force sensitivity, but he was far too old to begin formal training. But he had already used, either knowingly or unknowingly, several Force-based techniques during the few short hours Nox had known him. Perhaps a few tricks here or there would help him along. Alleras though, this was one with a keen mind and a great intellect, much like Sam. But, unlike Sam, this acolyte was Force sensitive. " You are far too old Marwyn to receive formal training. Unfortunately, I cannot stay here in the Citadel. There is far too much work to be done and a wife's warmth that I am eager to return to. But I am willing to leave instructions for you two and even start up a correspondence between us. And who knows, perhaps in time you two will surprise me and figure out the full nature of these glass candles. "

Marwyn hummed disappointedly. " I thought that might be the case. Such is my curse, I guess. Being born a few decades too early to learn proper magic. But what of young Allares here? "

Humming to himself, Nox crossed his arms over his chest. " Allares has some skill with the Force. Perhaps if she had started instruction on the Force at a younger age, Allares's skills would be able to manifest in a much more significant manner than what they are now. At best, I would only be able to teach a few tricks. Helpful tricks to be sure, but tricks only. Allares could maybe even learn the same from you as well. Perhaps more as you two have already started down the path of discovering your powers on your own. But the real question is: are you willing to let go of such a talented student? Especially one as…unique as Allares here? "

A spike of apprehension and a slight of amusement came from Allares and Marwyn respectively at his question. " So, you noticed as well, sorcerer? I was wondering if the rumors about your 'sightless sight' was true or not. And apparently it is, and far more preceptive than the normal eye. " Marwyn chuckled, drawing a sudden intake of breath from Allares. " Oh, don't be surprised, girl. I will admit that you managed to fool me for quite some time, but a secret such as yours could not stay hidden forever, Allares. Or do you prefer 'Seralla'? Daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne? "

The fear that was in Allares, or Seralla, was slowly being replaced by confusion as the young woman's attention shifted back and forth between Nox and Marwyn. " You – You've known? I – Why didn't you say anything? Why – I – I don't understand?! "

" Change, my dear, " Marwyn stated plainly, though the simple answer didn't seem to satisfy Seralla.

" He means that he was planning to use you to force change into the Citadel, " Nox stated, drawing a look of surprise from the young girl and a nod of acknowledgement from Marwyn. " Once you had your links and proved yourself a cut above the rest, he would then expose your secret to the rest of the Archmaesters, forcing them to concede the point that a woman bested the other acolytes and became one of the more learned Maesters of your generation. Such a revelation would hopefully be enough to force the other Archmaesters to withdraw their restrictions on men only when it comes to whom the Citadel allows within its walls. Though, the point is moot now, seeing as how all the Archmaesters besides Marwyn here are currently decorating the sides of the Roseroad north of the city. Judging by what I can only guess you have uncovered about the Order's actions, there is about to be a slew of requests for new Maesters to be sent to multiple keeps across Westeros. And because of this sudden increase in demand the Citadel will be in no place to turn away any who want to forge their links, be they woman or commoner. I daresay, Archmaester, that you will suddenly find yourself in a position to change the Citadel in any way you deem fit so long as you can provide the replacements that will be needed. "

" If only such change did not require such death, " Marwyn lamented. " But I suppose that on occasion such things are necessary. It is the way of time. The young grow old and die. To continue forward the new must replace the old. Unfortunately, the old often find it hard to let go of that which they believed to be best. " Pausing, Marwyn gave himself a shake. " Bah! Forget me. Just an old man sprouting nonsense, and with your time limited, Lord Nox, certainly not what I was hoping to discuss. I've followed your exploits quite closely, my Lord. Most interesting of which has been your recent expedition to Valyria. A feat thousands have tried yet failed to accomplish. I was hoping that you could shed some light on some of the mysteries surrounding Old Valyria. Then there is also your creation of the northern glass…and I've even heard rumors stirring around about one of your students, a Tarly, having a hand in creating a horseless carriage. "

Though he would never admit it aloud, Nox actually enjoyed the time he had to sit back and have a discussion with another mind that was, well not on par with his own, but definitely more open and well learned than many he'd met so far on this world. The two, well three though Seralla mostly stayed in the background taking notes while only periodically interjecting, talked well past sundown and late into the night. The only reason they stopped was because Marwyn's age and lack of endurance caught up to him, and he ended up passing out cold midsentence with only a few hours left until sunrise. Seralla was no better, in fact worse, as the bastard daughter of his friend Oberyn ended up passing out cold at least an hour before the Archmaester with the young woman's face planted onto the scroll she was writing and smearing the still fresh ink.

" Amateurs, " Nox chuckled, finding the duo's positions quite amusing as he gathered himself and left the room. " Still an hour or so till sunrise. Let's see if I can't find my Apprentice and Acolyte and get a bit of meditation in before we set out for King's Landing in a few hours. "

The following morning, Nox found himself sitting astride a horse that'd been provided for him while he waited for the rest of the Northern retinue and the retinue from Oldtown that would be accompanying them to King's Landing. The Greatjon and Lady Mormont had the option of returning North, but both were confident in their children to run their keeps while they were away, so they opted to stay south and continue to speak with the King. What was mildly surprising to Nox was the fact that Leyton Hightower had apparently meant what he'd said when he made the promise to ride with them to see the King. The old man was sitting atop his horse with his head held high as he waited next to Ned and Nox for the rest of the retinue to ready themselves. Despite holding himself well, Nox could sense that the man had seemingly aged at least a decade overnight. No doubt the weight of the Maesters' betrayal occurring right under his nose and the noses of his family. 'A fool is only a fool if he makes the same mistake twice. ' Nox thought as he carefully observed the Old Man of Oldtown. 'And this man is certainly no fool. There will be no recurrence of the Order of the Guiding Hand any time soon under his or his children's watch. '

Once the last of the riders were saddled up, Ned and Leyton both pulled their horses around and led the march out of the city gates with Nox, Robb, Jon, and Theon close behind. Just outside the wall, they were greeted with the sight of the Maesters that'd been part of the Order of the Guiding Hand. Many had perished over the course of the night, their hearts giving out or their brains forming aneurysms due to the large amount of blood pooling in their brains. But a few were still alive and reaching out desperately with the last of their strength while begging weakly for mercy.

" Keep your eyes on the horizon, boys, " Nox instructed the boys as he could feel waves of pity coming from them. " This is not a time for mercy or pity. Remember, these men all willingly took part in a conspiracy that sought to kill yourselves, your family, and countless others across the land and throughout the centuries. Mercy has its place, but it is neither here nor now. "

The feelings of unease did not leave the boys, but each kept their faces forward on the road, trying their best to ignore the macabre display lining the side of the road.

If he were being truthful with himself, Jon Snow would admit that despite his status, which he now realized was necessary to keep him safe, he had a very fortunate life. He was raised with brothers and sisters whom he loved and who loved him in return. He was given training and an education that few received. He'd been across the known world and ventured into the heart of Old Valyria. He'd dined with the ruling family of Dorne and even seen the Princess…well, best not to think too much on that subject as he was still riding his horse. He'd seen the sprawling cities of Braavos, Volantis, and Oldtown. And if it wasn't for those last two, Jon might've considered his first sighting of King's Landing to be an awe-inspiring sight.

A city built upon the very ground Aegon the Conqueror first set foot upon when he decided to unite Westeros into one Kingdom. Situated upon three distinct hills, the throne city of Westeros was a sprawling mass of buildings that stretched for miles, surrounded by high walls that would make any advancing army think more than twice about attacking. The Red Keep dominated atop the highest hill, overlooking the city below. But despite the impressive look of the city, awe was not what first came to his mind. But rather…the smell of the city is what first hit him. Even from a half day ride out from the main city gates, the Northmen and the contingent from the Reach led by Lord Hightower could smell the stench of the city.

" By the gods old and new, " his brother cursed, rubbing at his nose. " What is that smell?! "

He, Robb, Theon, and Lord Nox were all riding a slight distance back from the head of the column where his father and Lord Hightower rode with Winter while Ghost and Grey Wind ran circles around the horses and their mother. Riding just behind them were the other Lords and Lady of the North and the few men-at-arms that followed them brought up the rear. " Over half a million people living in a small, confined space with either inadequate or ill-maintained drainage, " Lord Nox remarked, sitting perfectly upright and not seeming to even notice the smell of the city.

" And how come you don't seem at all affected? " Theon commented, scrunching up his own nose as they tried to get used to the smell. " Some magic trick to keep it away? "

" No, " Lord Nox replied simply. " But if you were to tally the worst smelling places I've ever been to, this doesn't even rank in the top ten. "

" Shit, " Theon cursed, rubbing frantically at his nose now. " Remind me never to visit your homeland if this is the common smell. No wonder you left it all behind and came here. "

Unfortunately, the stench of the city did not lessen at all as they drew closer to the city gates. But by the time they had reached one of the massive gates leading into the city, the River Gate his father called it, Jon had at least somewhat gotten used to the smell. Not enough to dismiss it entirely, but enough so that it wasn't the only thing that he was able to focus on as they passed through the wall leading into the city proper. Their entrance to the city did not go unnoticed, not that Jon necessarily expected it to. But what he wasn't expecting was for the smallfolk of King's Landing to immediately start scattering to give them a clear way through. 'Winter is probably playing a role in that, ' Jon thought as he caught more than one set of eyes eyeing the horse-sized direwolf that was walking at the front of the column with her head held high while Ghost and Grey Wind trotted along close to her flanks.

'Gods, how can people live like this? ' Jon thought as the road made a sharp turn and began leading upwards towards the Red Keep. 'It's just like in Volantis, with the people practically standing atop of one another just to have enough space to live. '

" Think we'll have time to visit the famed Street of Silk while we're here? " Theon asked lowly so that only he, Robb, and Jon could hear. " Just look at all the women here…They have to have such a variety of cunts to sample from…It would be a shame to not let them experience riding a kraken once in their lives. We might even get Snow here to stop staring at that trinket he brought with him. He's been worse than a woman with a new piece of jewelry. "

Despite the swipe at him, Jon held his tongue. In a sense, Theon wasn't necessarily wrong. Ever since they'd set out from Winterfell, his Master had given him a task to try and duplicate the armlet that he found in Valyria that made it easy to manipulate fire. 'You're my Apprentice now, Jon, ' his Master had told him after giving him the task. 'I expect more from you now than I do your siblings. Study every aspect you can of this armlet. I want you to not only discover just how and why the armlet allows such easy manipulation of fire through the Force. But I also expect you to be able to create a new armlet as well that can manipulate an element other than fire. '

Unfortunately for Jon though, the task was proving far harder than he'd originally thought. Even after weeks on the sea and on the road with little to do save for his studying of the armlet, and yet still he was no closer to figuring out just how it did what it did than he was the day he'd first received the blasted thing. He'd been tempted more than once simply to toss the damn thing away, but he knew that he would never do that. He wouldn't be able to handle the look of disappointment on both his master's or his father's face for not only being unable to complete the task set upon him, but also because he wasn't able to control his anger. So, Jon kept studying the armlet, day after day and night after night. Hoping and praying for any type of clue as to how the thing worked.

" Word of our arrival seemed to have traveled quickly. "

Jerking himself upright, Jon forced thoughts of the armlet to the back of his mind as he spied off into the distance where Lord Hightower was pointing. There was a separate wall which separated the Red Keep from the rest of King's Landing, and at the gate leading into the keep was a contingent of men on horseback wearing brightly polished armor and holding the stag banner of House Baratheon. The only one who was not wearing armor was a young man who looked to be only a year or so older than Theon who was sitting astride his horse at the forefront of the guardsmen. The man's dark green and yellow trimmed velvet doublet had numerous stags stitched across his sleeves and chest. His face was clean shaven while his jet-black long hair framed his face. And given how, well, immaculate he looked, Jon was willing to bet the man spent more time in front of a mirror than his sister Sansa did.

" Lord Renly, " his father called out in greeting, holding his hand up to stop the column of riders. " We were not expecting such a welcome. "

'Lord Renly Baratheon, youngest brother of King Robert Baratheon. Named to the Small Council as Master of Laws and he is currently the Lord of Storm's End. ' Jon thought, trying to remember everything he could about the young lord before them, which unfortunately wasn't much.

" Lord Stark, Lord Hightower and…Lord Nox I presume. " The young Lord of Storm's End and brother of the King greeted the three men with a smile on his face that seemed genuine, though the way that his eyes kept flickering towards the massive direwolf and the slight fear wafting off of him made Jon doubt its sincerity.

" You would be correct, " Lord Nox stated, his tone flat and emotionless to such a level it nearly made even Jon shiver in slight fear from just those few simple words.

" Well, umm, its uh, nice to meet you in person, my Lord, " Lord Renly stammered awkwardly, his eyes shifting over them before settling on Lord Hightower. " Lord Hightower, it has been sometime! I'm sure you recognize your nephew, my squire, the soon-to-be-knighted Loras Tyrell. He has done quite well under my-"

" Enough, Lord Renly, " Lord Hightower sighed. " We are here to see the King, not to stand here under the eyes of the city exchanging pleasantries like a couple of old women. And I'm sure the King wants to see us as well, otherwise he wouldn't have sent you out to greet us. "

Renly was clearly not pleased with the way the introductions were going, and the man in shining armor that was standing sitting astride the horse next to him, perhaps this Loras Tyrell he mentioned, didn't look too pleased either. " Of – Of course, " Lord Renly nodded, urging his horse to turn around. " His grace has been anxious for your arrival ever since word reached his ears about what transpired at the Citadel. Truly…such a travesty. "

" The only travesty is that those traitors were able to assassinate my wife and son before they met their demise, Lord Renly, " Jon's father growled, actually growled, making the younger Lord clearly hesitate as they passed through the last remaining wall separating them from the Red Keep.

The young Lord clearly did not know how to take that. " Um, but of course, Lord Stark. We were all shocked and appalled by what transpired in the North. His Grace was ready to lead the charge into the North personally to see that the traitors met justice. And to think that the Maesters of all people could've been behind all of this is just…appalling. Of course, the Grand Maester has assured us that such a thing is not possible, or if it is it was done by only a small group of Maesters. But despite their involvement, the actions taken in Oldtown have shocked the court almost as much as what brought it about. I do hope that you have come to explain your actions in the Citadel, Lord Stark. "

Sighing, Jon shared a look with his brother, who wore an equally unamused expression as he was sure was across his own face. His upbringing had taught him to respect all nobility, but Lord Renly's words and tone was beginning to wear on him. His lips never stopped moving from the moment they passed through the gate to when they tied off their horses at the stables. Hells, the man even kept talking while his father, Lord Hightower and Lord Nox led the lot of them into the Red Keep itself. Mercifully, he did shut his mouth, but only when they walked into what Jon could only assume was the throne room given the sheer size of the room and the herald announcing their arrival.

" Your grace King Robert Baratheon of House Baratheon, her grace Queen Cersei of House Lannister. Announcing the arrival of Lord Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North. Lord Leyton Hightower, Lord of Oldtown. And – And Lord Alim Nox! The Northern Sorcerer! Accompanying them ar – wait! My lords! "

Neither his father, Lord Hightower nor his Master seemed to care what the herald had to say as the three men marched into the throne room of the Red Keep leaving the people within to quickly rush to the sides to create a path. He would like to think that it was his father's reputation and presence that had the people moving so quickly, but that just wasn't the case. The reason why everyone was seemingly tripping over themselves to get out of their way was because Winter had apparently decided to lead the procession into the throne room. The giant wolf doing a better job of parting the crowd with a single glance than a dozen men at arms. As Jon stepped foot into the throne room, he couldn't help but feel a sense of…awe. The room was enormous, perhaps even large enough to fit the entirety of the great hall of Winterfell within and still have room to spare. Tall, vaulted ceilings. Glass windows with intricate works of art decorating their surfaces. Pillars with ornate carvings embellished with gold and jewels. The room was like a work of art…with one notable exception. The monstrosity that was the Iron Throne perched upon the dais at the far end of the hall.

During their lessons, Maester Luwin had informed them that after he'd conquered the Seven Kingdoms, King Aegon I had taken the swords of over a thousand men from his fallen adversaries and used them, along with the fire from his dragon, to forge the Iron Throne. Luwin had told them that the throne was designed purposefully to be uncomfortable, and that many a king had cut themselves on the throne. It was even believed that King Maegor I had died from accidently slitting his wrists on it. He hadn't truly believed the tales when he was a boy. But now, now that he was looking at the monstrosity that was the Iron Throne, the tales he'd been told as a boy almost seemed inadequate. Standing in front of the throne, separating it from the rest of the crowd, were seven men wearing gold tinted armor with heavy white cloaks around their shoulders, the Kingsguard. The best knights of the realm.

Just behind the Kingsguard were a handful of others that must've held some high position as they could stand near the throne. Of them, he only recognized one, Lord Stannis Baratheon, the lord of Dragonstone. There was only a single woman standing amongst them, and she was standing closest to the throne of the group. 'Queen Cersei, no doubt, ' Jon thought as they drew closer to the throne. He'd heard tales of the Queen's supposed beauty. Gods knew that Sansa had gushed about her often enough. Looking at her now, he would agree that she was indeed a very beautiful woman with her long golden hair and sharp green eyes. But there was something about her, something dark that raised the hairs on the back of his neck. And he realized then that her beauty was only skin deep.

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