Year 110 A.C.
POV: Denovan
As soon as we descended the stairs, I met with Sigrid and Princess Rhaenyra, who accompanied us, followed by her two loyal guards.
"Is this axe a blade of Valyrian steel?" Rhaenyra asked.
"No, it's not... We don't know how to reforge Valyrian steel."
"Then what is so special about this weapon of yours? Is it its runes?"
With a smile, I replied: "Wait a little and see, princess."
As soon as we reached the forge, the intense heat struck us with force. For me, for Sig or Melika, it made no difference; the runes on our bodies protected us against extreme temperatures. They didn't make us immune to direct contact with flames, but the ambient heat needed to be absurdly higher to affect us.
I looked back and observed the two Kingsguard. They weren't wearing their usual white armor, but rather metal armor lined with thick fur, since the cold outside was brutal.
"I recommend you stay right there. The forge is extremely hot and, for ordinary people, it can cause death in a few minutes."
"And for you, princess, a few minutes shouldn't make a difference."
Rhaenyra nodded and spoke to the guards: "Sers, this won't take long."
The princess looked from side to side, curious, observing the various metal weapons and prototypes. There were weapons of bronze, of bone, armor pieces; an endless array of things.
The forge was massive, and it wasn't for nothing that, in the back, Syrax could comfortably lay down in the storage area.
"It's very hot in here," Rhaenyra commented.
Not wanting to prolong it too much, I approached the table, picked up the Leviathan, and presented it to them.
"This is the Leviathan," I declared proudly. Even though I still considered it a prototype, it was undeniably the best weapon I had ever created. If at least one of the runes worked, it would already be unmatched.
"It is beautiful... Are those... scales?" asked Rhaenyra, flushed from the heat of the forge, with her eyebrows furrowed.
"Let's step outside, princess... I think I overestimated the Targaryen resistance to heat."
"I am fine," she retorted.
"I do not wish to risk drawing your father's ire, princess."
As soon as we stepped out of the forge, you could see steam rolling off our bodies, dissipating into the cold air much faster than the vapor after a sauna.
"I would like an explanation," Rhaenyra demanded in a serious tone, keeping close to her two guards.
I laughed, finding her bravado amusing.
"Do you think they are dragon scales, princess?" I asked, entertained.
"And what else would they be, if not dragon scales?"
"There are many beasts in this world, princess... Have you ever heard of the nagas?" I inquired, already turning and walking toward my training ground next to the forge.
Melika and Sig followed by my side. My weapon now rested in Melika's hands, who analyzed the runes affectionately. Sig's eyes darted between the axe and the path, barely concealing her anxiety.
"Naga? I have never heard of that," Rhaenyra said, with a hint of irritation in her voice.
Ser Harrold then intervened: "Do you refer to the naga from the tales of the Grey King of the Iron Islands?"
"Exactly, Ser Harrold. I didn't know a proper name for it, so, in honor of that legend, I named the species itself a naga."
"You killed one," Rhaenyra stated, already a bit calmer.
"No... I didn't kill it. Have you never wondered why the place we are in right now is called the Bay of Scales, princess?"
"You found a dead one, then?"
"No to that as well, princess. I will tell you a secret: do you know why all my beasts are black?"
Now it wasn't just Rhaenyra who felt uneasy; the expressions of the two Kingsguard also betrayed great discomfort.
"Why, my lord?" she asked.
"Well... It wasn't because I meticulously picked each one of them. It is because, when I enter the mind of a beast—when I warg into it—the creature bonds so deeply with me that our souls intertwine. And, after a few days, the beasts take on the exact coloration of my hair and eyes."
"So you mean to say you can bond with a naga?"
"Exactly... That is what I am talking about."
Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes at me, suspicious of my words. "And why haven't we seen it until now? What guarantees you aren't lying to me and, in truth, killed one of our dragons?"
"Kill a dragon, princess? You really hold me in high regard, huh..."
"Do not worry, I will show you Orochi later, princess; then you will have no reason to doubt me."
I turned around as we reached the training ground. "But focus on the present. What I hold in my hands will change the way people view the North. Perhaps the weapon that comes closest to Valyrian steel is right in front of you."
I took the axe from Sig's hands, who parted with the weapon with visible regret.
As soon as I gripped the weapon, I infused magic into it with extreme care, slowly, so that if anything went wrong, I could stop immediately. The teal runes molded into Orochi's scales began to glow brighter and brighter, until they were fully ablaze. Then, I approached a log and tried to glide the axe slowly over it. If the sharpening rune was working, it would slice like paper; if not, the weapon wouldn't even bite into the wood.
"Princess, as I told you before... runes have profound and singular meanings, and the world obeys that, because a rune can contain only one meaning, and nothing else." The eyes of the three southerners widened in attention as I approached the log. "This specific rune is for sharpening, something that should allow the weapon to cut through this wood effortlessly, using only its own weight."
I placed the Leviathan on the wood and pressed down. The weapon did not penetrate the log... at least not enough to demonstrate the promised effect of the sharpening rune.
"..."
"Well, the sharpening rune was a failure," I admitted.
"All that tension... I thought it would cut like butter. And what else does it do?" asked Sig.
"As sad as it seems... I think the chance of the sharpening rune working was extremely low from the start," Melika pondered. "Even on bones or scales, the sharpening runes proved ineffective; imagine on a metallic mineral devoid of any magic."
"Well... as I said, it is a prototype. But the next test is different," I stated.
Knowing that the storage rune was stable and wouldn't explode in my hand, I channeled as much magic as possible into the axe, until the runes reached their peak brilliance. With a brutal motion, I hurled the weapon at a target with all my might.
The Leviathan flew from my hand spinning through the air, tore through the wooden target and, not satisfied, embedded itself into the stone wall right behind it, burying a third of the blade in the solid rock.
"That was..." murmured Ser Criston, stunned.
"Calm down... That's still not all," said Melika with a smile on her face, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.
Then, to everyone's surprise, the axe began to tremble with force and desperation. Suddenly, it tore itself from the wall and flew backward, spinning with a momentum even swifter and more destructive than when it was thrown. It was coming back.
Ser Harrold quickly stepped in front of Rhaenyra, and Ser Criston took the vanguard, covering his brother-in-arms. If that weapon, somehow, struck any of them there, death would be an absolute certainty.
But the Leviathan flew straight toward my hand. As soon as it began to approach, I sent a magical command forward, braking it and causing it to stop spinning. To their astonishment, the weapon landed perfectly in my palm with a solid thud.
My eyes shone with a wild, childish amusement, like someone who has just found the most fascinating toy in the world. When I spoke, my voice was laced with genuine joy.
"A success..." I chuckled softly, a wide grin plastered on my face. "Hahaha! A massive success! Of the four main runes, three worked!" I exclaimed. My eyes met Melika in absolute ecstasy, smiling brightly in my direction.
I stepped over to her and repeated: "It worked, Melika!"
She placed her hand on my cheek, gave me a quick kiss, and declared:
"Splendidly so. Leviathan... the first of the runic weapons. The first of a new era," she said, sounding almost like a prophecy.
Then, as if just realizing we weren't alone, I looked back.
"Did you like it?" I asked, turning the axe sideways in my hands to show it off to them. "This is the Leviathan. What do you think, princess?"
"Denovan, that was incredible! How? You are amazing!" said Sig, approaching me with her eyes darting between my face and the weapon. "Can I hold it?" she asked, almost pleading.
I handed the axe to her while watching Rhaenyra, who still kept her eyes wide with shock.
"Magic?" the princess stammered, a slow smile spreading across her lips. "Is this the power of the runes you've spoken so much about? This is truly incredible..." Then, with a sudden calculating gleam in her eye, she asked: "How much? How much would it cost for you to forge one of these for House Targaryen?"
I had expected this. The moment anyone saw a weapon like that, they would undoubtedly desire it. It was impossible not to covet it; be it a child or an elder, a commoner or a king, it would make no difference. However, I ignored the question and addressed my sister:
"Throw the axe, Sig, and pull it back."
"..." Sig looked at me, then down at the weapon, and asked: "I just throw it?"
I stepped closer to her, but my eyes wandered carefully between her, Rhaenyra, and the Kingsguard.
"No... It's not just throwing it. The major issue here is that, even if you own a weapon like this, you won't be able to use it to its maximum potential. What would be the point, then, of paying thousands of gold coins for it?"
I took the axe back and explained:
"First, the runes must be fed."
As soon as I spoke, the runes began to light up, but I interrupted the process so they only glowed moderately. I maintained a steady flow of energy to the axe and approached the same log I had previously tried to split with just the blade's weight. This time, I delivered a firm strike, using strength.
The log didn't shatter crudely as it would in the hands of a common woodcutter; it was sliced cleanly. That was the effect of the cutting rune: when the magic carried such an intent, it executed it to perfection. It was as simple as that.
I struck again. Another piece was severed. Not fractured, not splintered. Cut. That was an essential detail.
Then, with the runes still gleaming, I gave the log a light tap, leaving the Leviathan wedged in the wood, and turned to face them.
"The glowing runes show that there is still latent magic within the weapon. Once that magic runs out—and it will run out—the wielder must recharge it. But it's not just that: with every attack or use of the weapon's function, the magic must be projected with the exact intent of that action. Without that control, the weapon is useless magically speaking."
Rhaenyra had already stepped closer and was watching the runes lose their light. With every passing second, the glow diminished almost imperceptibly.
"So you could teach us, couldn't you?" she insisted.
"The knowledge of runes and how to manipulate them is priceless, princess. It is non-negotiable. No amount of gold pays for something like this."
The weapon had already lost a good deal of its brilliance. I pulled it free from the log and passed it to Melika, who held it and twirled it in her hands with impressive dexterity, not seeming to be affected by the metal's weight.
Melika looked at me, and then locked her gaze onto Rhaenyra's. Immediately, the axe in her hands flared back to life, reaching its maximum intensity. Instead of hurling it with force, she simply dropped it onto the ground. She walked over until she stood beside me, directly facing the princess. Then, with a simple stretch of her arm, the axe rose from the stony ground and flew straight into her hands.
"Truly... A glorious weapon. Worthy of the King of Beasts," murmured Melika, pressing her body against mine.
The princess frowned, visibly affected by the display. "And what is your objective in showing all this?"
"To show my worth, the worth of my people, and to make it clear that we must be recognized," I replied without hesitation. "Everyone fears power, princess. Your family will remain on the Iron Throne for as long as you have dragons, but, if one day you lose them, your days will be numbered. What I am demonstrating today is what we are capable of. Perhaps forging and commercializing weapons of the Leviathan's caliber is impractical... But what if I could activate the dormant runes on the Valyrian steel weapons of Westeros? What if I could awaken them?"
"Activate them?" she asked, perplexed.
"Princess, the Valyrians were renowned for their advanced magic and technology. Do you truly believe their weapons were simply... sharper than normal? I could be wrong, but I highly doubt that all the Valyrian steel blades scattered across this world are just pieces of metal that do not lose their edge and happen to be extremely sharp."
"What are you trying to say with that?"
"Lamentation... Blackfyre... Ice... those were the only Valyrian steel weapons I was able to observe closely. And on them, I saw ancient markings, runes. I've seen a few other blades, but the most legendary ones carry runes, and runes are structures far more complex than you imagine. I mean... You just saw what this axe of mine is capable of. Do you believe the sorcery of the Valyrian Dragonlords produced something so mundane and simple?"
Rhaenyra's eyes gleamed intensely. She seemed to be processing a storm of thoughts. "And what exactly are you proposing?"
I looked pointedly at the two Kingsguard standing behind her.
"This is not something that should be discussed here, on the wind. And, whatever you might decide, your father will have to approve of it anyway. So let's postpone this conversation. Once the war in the Stepstones is over, we will resume this matter in private, in King's Landing, and we can strike an agreement."
"I didn't think you could be so calculating," she said, sizing me up. "I suppose that old image we have in the South that Northmen are crude, simple, and blunt is quite mistaken."
A smile appeared on my face.
"Indeed, princess. I can be calculating, but every man... every person who holds power must be. A leader must think ahead, plan for the future, and not act solely on the impulse of the moment. A ruler who lives only for today is doomed to fail. But, princess, do not confuse me with a deceitful man, a slithering serpent looking for weaknesses to strike. That is far beneath me. I will be honest with you, as I am being right now. However, being honest does not mean showing all my cards in the first round. I am no fool, either."
Rhaenyra sighed heavily.
"I will believe you, then... Lord Denovan."
I nodded my head in a sign of respect.
"Since we are all gathered here, I would like to apologize in advance, princess. I will have to be absent from Scalebay for a few weeks. I will be back on the exact day we set sail with the fleet toward King's Landing to begin this war."
"That is not an issue," she replied, intrigued. "But where are you going... if I may ask?"
My eyes flashed with amusement. "I cannot reveal all my cards right now, princess... can I?"
Both Kingsguard seemed to loathe my audacity and were already moving their hands toward the pommels of their swords. However, Rhaenyra shot them a harsh look over her shoulder, forcing them to back down and keep their blades sheathed.
"And what would the price for that information be, Master of Whisperers?" the princess challenged, sounding stern to remind me of my duty to the realm.
"If you truly wish to know, princess, then make me a promise: promise me that you will guarantee me access to study the runes at Runestone. And when I say study, I mean seeing everything. Everything that isn't a secret of House Royce, I would like to read and catalog. Could you arrange that for me?"
"Insolent!" Ser Harrold bellowed, unable to contain himself. "As Master of Whisperers, your duty is to serve the royal family unconditionally! How dare you demand rewards for information that might not even be worth anything?"
I turned my cold gaze toward him. "And how would a simple sworn shield know the true price of information? A single word spoken at the right time, Ser Harrold, can turn the tide of a war, topple a kingdom, or destroy a person."
The princess intervened before the tension could escalate. "I promise I will intercede on your behalf when you make that request to my father. Would that be enough for you?"
"Fair enough," I agreed. "I am going to meet with the giants, princess."
"Giants, is it? Do they truly exist?" she asked, letting slip a genuine, almost childish curiosity.
"Many things that you southerners believe to be nothing more than nursery tales actually exist, princess. Giants, Children of the Forest, Green Men... the Others. All of them are terrifyingly real."
Ser Harrold, red with anger, exploded: "Insolent wildling! I have tried to remain calm and courteous until now, but to tell such blatant lies to the Crown Princess? That borders on treason! You are mocking the royal family!"
Fury rushed to my head.
"Lies? Please..." I shot back, taking a threatening step toward him. "I can prove every word I just said. I have never uttered a single lie since I set foot in the South or while the princess has been under my hospitality, Westerling. Do not dare accuse me. You want to see the naga? The giants? The Others? I will be your guide myself. Grab a horse or a sled, march even further into the True North with me, and you will see with your own eyes that I haven't lied about absolutely anything. Until then, keep your baseless accusations to yourself," I said, irritated.
The fact that I was sharing secrets that could be used against me—secrets that could make my people be viewed as an existential threat—made that white-cloaked bastard's accusation not just an insult, but an act of immeasurable idiocy, especially right after I had just shown them working magic.
Rhaenyra held up a hand, calling for calm.
"Show us your naga, then, Lord Denovan. If you do that, I will fly you myself on Syrax's back to the giants. That would certainly shorten your journey, would it not?"
I paused for a moment, evaluating the proposal. That would not only drastically shorten my journey, but it would also bring several political and diplomatic gains... Many gains, in truth.
"I can show you, princess," I nodded slowly. "But the North beyond the Wall, as I have warned, is extremely brutal. It is not for nothing that, after unifying the clans, we named our home the Kingdom of Northumbria."
I took a few steps into the snow, looking out toward the freezing horizon.
"From here in Scalebay to the Thenn Valley, there is an absolute consensus among the Free Folk, princess: the further North you advance, the deadlier the world becomes. The creatures that lurk in the blizzards are made of the nightmares that fuel those grim stories you tell to frighten children in the South."
I turned to face her with seriousness in my eyes.
"That is why we call ourselves Northumbria. 'Somber North', in our Old Tongue."
Author's note:
I've decided to stick with Northumbria. Check out the 'Characters, Visuals, and Auxiliary' chapter, I've added a few updates there. If you think something's missing or want me to include more, just let me know. Thanks a lot!