24th day of the 8th moon, 269 B.C.
The Hour of the Bat (10 P.M.)
Ser Alaric Mormont, Lannisport, Lion's Den
Despite saying that I would refuse the Hightowers' proposals to Jeor, I only did so to calm him down.
The truth is, we are not in a position to refuse help. Therefore, ever since they made their proposal for cooperation, I had already decided to accept it; I was merely waiting for them to grow desperate and increase the offer. If I am going to accept an agreement, I prefer to take the greatest possible advantage.
But fate is a bit of a trickster, and the one who ended up having to crawl to someone was me.
"Have you finally decided to listen to reason?" Malora comments.
It is the first time I hear her voice without the distorted effect of telepathy. It was as dry as I imagined it would be. If she was trying to needle me, it wasn't clear from her tone. It sounded as though she were just making idle small talk. If it weren't for her low charisma and my insight, I would think she was a good actress.
Yet, despite the absence of arrogance or presumption, it was clear that I had lost a good portion of my leverage.
It is a pity that my Plan A failed.
***
9 hours ago.
The Hour of the Rest (1 P.M.)
As I explained to calm Jeor down, we could cheat by involving an external person, someone outside the ongoing event, to cast spells in case of danger.
"And who will do that?" he had questioned. "No one here knows magic besides you. And don't even think about involving the Hightowers and that Maester."
"I'm not talking about them. I'm referring to the Children of the Forest. With the near-direct connection they have with the Old Gods, they must have learned at least one spell that could be useful in the Mock Battle."
My explanation made Jeor stop to reflect.
"We need the Iron Islands as a safe haven in case of emergency, Father. Since the White Walkers do not possess ships, the Iron Islands are the perfect refuge."
"And will the Old Gods accept it? I thought they didn't like interacting with the South."
"They don't, but they helped us against the Drowned God regardless. If necessary, they can make exceptions. And securing a refuge not only for us, but for them too, should they accept, is a perfect exception."
With a heavy sigh, he replies in a defeated manner, "Fine. Go speak with the gods."
***
11 hours later.6 hours ago.
The Hour of the Gate (9 P.M.)
Since all my slots were being used for Enhance Ability, I had to force an eight-hour sleep so that my magic would reset and I could use Talk with Plants on the Heart Tree of the godswood. I could have waited for midnight to arrive, but the sooner this problem is resolved, the better.
With Talk with Plants prepared and ready for use, I headed to the godswood alongside my guards, ready to make the proposal to the Old Gods.
When I explained the plan to them, they received it with approval, just as I had predicted. Discovering that the undead won the war in the future, even after all their efforts and growth, seems to have shaken their confidence.
Unfortunately, even with their approval of the plan, they said they could not offer assistance. Most of the Children of the Forest had been scattered around the Lands Beyond the Wall, searching for clues regarding the disappearance of the White Walkers, while the rest stayed behind to guard their camp. There were none left to be sent without delaying the search efforts or weakening their defenses.
Basically, although acquiring land in the Iron Islands is important for a possible future, ensuring survival in the present and preventing that dark future from occurring takes ultimate priority.
My Plan A failed. But I already had another idea.
When I returned to the Lion's Den, I lied to those waiting for me with an answer, Jeor, Rickard, and Jorah, telling them that the Old Gods would send a Child of the Forest. But since Lannisport was a long distance from the Lands Beyond the Wall, the Child of the Forest would take time to arrive. When they did arrive, they would still prefer minimal contact and would wait from afar for the right moment to interfere if necessary.
While Jeor believed it, I spoke telepathically to Rickard, exposing my lie and asking for his help to cover up my attempt with Plan B.
Although cheating wasn't part of the initial plan, now that I had the idea in my head, I couldn't deny that it was a good one.
I truly believe I am more powerful than the Septon, but since we are not in a battle where I can demonstrate my true power and incapacitate half his group with a 5th-level spell like Erupting Earth or suppress them with Summon Draconic Spirit, that strength is somewhat useless. Aside from being lethal, these spells are extremely flashy, which would only increase people's fear and paranoia regarding me and cause Aerys to fixate on me even further.
If that little Produce Flame of mine caused him to become so hypnotized that he ignored everything around him, I don't even want to see how he will react when he sees me perform more serious magic. No, I must content myself with the discreet ones, like Enhance Ability and healing spells.
With my strength being somewhat useless at the moment, the fact that the Septon is not the only one capable of using magic in his group is truly a problem for the plan of winning all events with total dominance.
A problem that I already know who might be able to solve.
***
Present.
The Hour of the Bat (10 P.M.)
Aberrant Mind, Malora's magical origin, is rather interesting.
According to the description provided by GM Eyes, Sorcerers with this origin received their magical power through an alien influence on their mind, which allows them to influence the minds of others. The description didn't give me a definitive answer as to what the alien origin actually is; instead, it gave me six possible origins that people with this magical lineage might have, each one more bizarre than the last.
They range from possessing a parasitic twin sibling inside you, to being the target of a failed transformation by a Mind Flayer, whatever that is. One even mentions receiving powers through an imaginary friend.
But according to my experience with Malora, the one that fits her best is that her mind fell victim to exposure from the influence of a different realm, causing the person to think there are tentacles growing inside them. Tentacles that I felt every single time she tried to enter my mind.
All of them are bizarre, but all approach the theme of mental alteration, which would explain why this girl is so strange.
But these are just curious details; what matters are the spells that this magical origin has granted Malora.
"That is no way to treat our guest, Malora," the strange girl's father says in a playful tone. "Ser Alaric, it is a pleasure to meet you in person and welcome you to our quarters. Please, sit."
He gestures to the chair around the table where Malora was already sitting, watching me without breaking eye contact.
"Thank you, Lord Hightower," I say as I sit down. "As your daughter already predicted, I came to discuss your proposal, but… where is the Archmaester?"
I notice the absence of someone who would certainly like to be here.
"He is, unfortunately, busy. Even if I called him, he could not come. Your arrival, without any prior notice, was rather unusual," he explains as he sits in the other chair.
"If his absence will not interfere?"
"It will not. We are in agreement regarding what we want."
"Perfect. Then, yes, I accept your proposal for an alliance, but I have a few terms."
"As expected. What are they?"
"The first is that you cannot ask anything of me that might harm House Mormont or the North."
"That is rather vague and open to interpretation, don't you think, Ser?"
And so the games begin.
"Only for certain types of people. Certain untrustworthy types of people. The term is quite simple to follow, Lord Hightower. Just do not ask me to take an action that goes against the development of my house or the North. Be it blocking trade agreements or marriage alliances. It is also reciprocal. I will not make requests that could harm any of your future plans either."
"And if, say, the North takes an action that goes against our interests?"
"In that case, we will speak before taking any rash action."
"And should a solution not be found?"
"Do what you must do."
"Perfect," the Lord of Oldtown says, relaxing into his chair.
Malora, silent until now, continued to observe me.
"Since I do not see the other Archmaester with you, I imagine the Citadel is not in agreement with or aware of your proposal, correct? That this cooperative alliance includes only the four of us."
Leyton shakes his head slowly.
"Correct, Ser. Unfortunately, the Citadel remains trapped in its old beliefs."
"Ignorant fools. They will become irrelevant by the end of the century," Malora adds. Again, there was no hatred, anger, malice, or any negative emotion whatsoever. She spoke as if stating a fact.
"Then that will make the next term easy. The second term is that you cannot reveal our connection to anyone. Our link must remain a total secret. When I leave this room, you must act as if this never happened."
Leyton strokes his beard upon hearing my second term.
"Is that why your arrival was so last-minute? You didn't want news of messengers traveling between our quarters to leak and raise suspicions."
The question was more of an affirmation than an actual inquiry.
"Yes. Will that be a problem? With these terms, you can act as the authors of all past magic."
My mention of passing off the magic had the predicted effect of exciting him.
"It will not be a problem," he says with a wide smile.
With that, all possible problems were resolved.
"Then we have an agreement, Lord Hightower. It only remains for us to discuss how our cooperation will work."
I am vague, but both of us know very well what the other side wants. Malora, who is the one to answer me, knows too.
"We want your magic; you want to use our power and influence to protect you and help you in any other future endeavors," the sorceress says in a dry, direct manner.
Her father coughs in embarrassment.
"What Malora meant to say is that we are willing to place our influence and power at your disposal in exchange for your help in unraveling the higher mysteries."
"There is no need for euphemisms; it is exactly as she said."
Leyton opens his eyes in surprise at my frankness.
"You want us to free you from the claws of the dragon that hold you like bars," she states.
"Yes, but that is for after the tourney. I have another request for its final day, and it involves you and a spell you might possibly know."
My words finally hit home, causing her expression to shift slightly. Going from calm and apathetic to mildly interested.
"Malora is extremely talented. It was through her that Archmaester Culler and I acquired much of our knowledge. If she possesses the spell you think she does, she will certainly be of help," her father says, trying to sweeten her image.
Malora, probably oblivious to the attempt, threw her father's compliments out the window with her next words.
"Freeing you from the dragon will not be easy. Something like that will have to be paid for with two or three spells. And wanting me to use my magic against Septon Mycah and his men won't be cheap either. If he truly is an envoy of the gods, I do not want to become their enemy without gaining anything of value in return."
Straight to business. She trades spells like currency.
"Malora!" her father exclaims, trying to suppress some of his shock.
Her lack of manners didn't bother me. What surprised me was her guessing the reason I wanted her help.
"Before you run, you must first learn to walk," I reply to her. "I imagine you would first like to know why certain spells can be used at intervals, while others can be used according to the number of times they are prepared. I presume you would also like to know the secret to increasing the maximum number of spells that can be prepared, as well as making the effects of those spells stronger. And you, in particular, Malora, I bet you would like to know why you feel tentacles growing inside you."
If her change of expression was slight before, it was severe now.
I had pushed the right buttons.
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