If I could find a battlefield, maybe I could salvage some armor and wear that for flying... Assuming that I could-
I stopped that train of thought, as I realized that I was under the impression I could use my power to 'lift' something that I was being lifted BY. I would need to test that.
Gently sweeping the cloud of shards through the snow around me as I walked, I looked for a log. Ideally, a decent-sized one, but- Ah! Got one.
I impaled the log with around fifty shards on each end, easily lifting it into the air, and, after brushing off some snow, I walked over to a fairly deep-feeling drift, and sat on the floating log. It was floating about half a meter above the ground, so I wasn't very high, but still. It wasn't wavering, and I wasn't touching the ground any longer.
Neat!
I raised myself into the air, holding the Ray Sphere and my books with a separate magnetic grip that that of the swarm around me (now that I was higher in the air), and the grip that was anchored to the log. Not to mention the actual, physical grip I had on the log. Mainly because I HATE heights.
REALLY HATE HEIGHTS.
Frankly, even as a conduit, I still was injured by my descent into the treetops from my little... Adventure on climing the Wall, and that had HURT.
Still, I could easily lift myself if I was doing so by using something as an intermediate step, and given how my power was feeling, I could do this all day. Great- now I just needed something a bit more comfortable to sit on. There were bits of branches digging in everywhere.
Lowering myself (and the log) to the ground, I considered what I wanted to use as transportation. If I could find a cart or something, that would be ideal, as I could make it into a sort-of living space, but I did not have a cart, nor did I have anything that I couldn't carry easily with my abilities. Hmmm....
Maybe a motorcycle-like thing?
Drawing the swarm around my body, and a spiralling drill-shape around my arm, I began to carve into the log- which abruptly exploded, shattering into hundreds of slivers. The swarm of metal around my body ground any pieces of wood into sawdust, but still- that was not a good sign.
After spitting out the sawdust (and spending a minute or so swearing as some got in my eyes), I found a nice, solid-feeling tree that would become my ride. It was fairly tall, and still looked healthy- for a evergreen tree covered in snow. No branches looked like they were dying, and since it was fairly thick, I should be able to carve it properly.
First, the top. lengthening the tornado of blades around my arm into more of a tentacle, I buzzed the outermost leaves off the entire tree, then, in a flurry of sawdust, I sliced off the top. Several shards lifted the pointy top off the tree, even as the tornado of blades began slicing in, initially just removing the bark around the trunk and thicker branches.
Once I had stripped the tree of bark, and the Sun was beginning to set, I got along to the effort of carving. I would need a saddle, and, ideally, a stretch behind it just in case I wanted to bring some bags or something else along- not to mention where I would stab the metal spikes in to control the thing.
I sliced a great curve, grinding the wood away in a few minutes, leaving a smooth top surface, then began removing the area where I would be sitting. I didn't have much experience with shaping saddles, so, once I had a 'rear' segment carved out of the wood (the 'bottom' was flat, and the 'tail' of my structure was nearly a cylinder, although there were some holes where I could thread something through in the future), I shaped a bucket seat for myself into the wood.
I didn't know how to make a saddle, but I loved the bucket seat in my car. This one was like that, just made out of wood- and would probably need padding. But I could get to that later.
After carving the footrests and handlebars for me to hold onto while I moved this structure, I began to carve the front. I extended the flat segment out along what would become the bottom of my vehicle, and, keeping delicate control of my whirling tentacle of blades, I hollowed out much of the engine segment, leaving only four holes in the top, and a small one on the bottom (to drain out any rain that might accumulate).
Then I directed my swarm of metal into the 'engine' compartment, embedding dozens of shards several inches into the thick wood. Small spikes were embedded along the 'bottom', each shard slid in in such a way that the point would be facing mainly 'up' and away from the centeral axis when I began using it.
When I was done, I carefully sliced the bottom segment away from the stump of what once was a decent-sized tree, and lifted it into the air, smoothing away any rough details with my swarm. When I judged it ready (by running a finger along the surface and not getting splinters), the sun had set, and the moon had risen on one side of the sky. Slipping into the bucket seat was pleasant, and with the Ray Sphere and my books in my lap, I could easily reach the bars.
I willed my creation to move, with it's guts full of the metal shards, and I shot off into the dark of the forest, using my magnetic sense to guide me. I flew through the trees, laughing as my senses let me navigate the dark undergrowth, a small shield of shards holding pattern around me to slice through extra branches as I slipped through the night, collecting more and more shards as I went.
After some time, I found where my metal dust had fallen, now covered by snow, and the sand-like material rose into the air at my call. Flowing like Gaara's sand, it slid into the 'engine', and allowed me to set a cushioning for most of the shards... Although I coated myself in enough to patch the holes in my clothes, and give myself some decent shoes.
Once I felt like I had all my metal in the right place, I ascended, and broke the treetops into the clear night sky.
The cold bit at my face and fingers (the latter of which I covered in metal mittens), as I rose, my powers not even stretched with the mass of metal under my control. I looked up at the stars, marvelling at the sheer number and brightness of them, searching for a constellation I could recognize to guide myself.
Nothing I recognized.
Oh well, hat was to be expected to some degree. "Too much to hope for," I sighed, then perked up. "I wonder how spider-bro is doing?"
My magnetic sense gave me a perfect (or nearly) feel for directions in any case, so I turned North, and accelerated towards the wall, using my power to navigate. Soon I was on the other side, where I could feel two decent and one miniscule sparks of life that were perched in a small hollow on the ice.
The spiders were home, and the male poked out his head to see me, large eyes glistening in the moonlight. I waved, and pulled closer to the wall, shards and metal dust forming a bridge between my vehicle and the wall.
After a few seconds, the female came out, her egg wrapped up in a downy-looking blanket of silks and adhered to her back while the smaller male fussed over her. Thinking quickly, I formed a small, buzzing drill of some more shards, and dug a pit facing myself along the top of the engine, then drilled until it almost, but not quite, all the way through. A small, subtle burrow for my first friends.
Cautiously, the male darted along the metal path, leaving a silk dragline as he walked across the bridge, before looking into the new hole that I had just dug in my vehicle. Some more observation of the new hole, a few looks at me, and then he began buzzing as he laid a few lines of silk around the hole, and pushed out some of the sawdust.
The female jumped over the bridge, leaping four times her body length easily, and landing neatly on top of the hood of my vehicle. Backing into the hole was easy for her, as it was bit wider than she was, and with the male in the hole, I drew back the bridge of metal, and accelerated up and over the wall again.
Banking carefully, and feeling very glad that my ride had a bucket seat AND handlebars, I flew over the snow-covered forests and looked for the crater. It took a minute or so, my ride moving very, very fast (no speedometer, but I think I was moving at more than thirty miles an hour), so I was able to find the crater almost immediately. From there I could feel the depression in the snow that my tracks had left on the journey here, and Will's tracks (and those of his dog's) on the way back, so I just followed them.
Swining around the house as I bled off speed, my ride making an unholy multi-tune of whistles with the four holes behind me, and the holes in the engine compartment, I used some dust (once I had slowed down) to seal up the engine holes and saddlebag holes.
Then I descended, in silcence, to the front door, where I dismounted, the dagger I had taken from Josey in one hand and the deformed golden ring in the other. I knocked, making sure to keep the metal dust that formed my clothes fairly still while I kept the bike(?) levitating behind me.
The door cracked open, and a blue eye stared out at for a second, before some muffled discussion (which I STILL didn't understand) happened for a minute or so. Then, slowly, Josey opened the door, the older woman keeping one hand behind her back while a strained smile stared out at me. "Yes?"
I sighed. "I know you will not understand me, but thank you for taking me in while I was injured. And thanks for keeping my other possessions safe while I recovered. It means a great deal to me... And so, here." I held out the knife handle first, and the deformed golden ring. "It's all I have that I can give-"
The elderly woman dropped the wooden stake she had been holding behind her back as I held out the golden ring, and delicately picked it up with two fingers, then her knife with the other hand. The door, which had been held somewhat closed by her arm, swung open, and I saw Bill, Will, and their father Marley all brandishing solid wooden weapons even as Josey looked at the golden ring in her hand.
"I can see I am not welcome here- sorry for disturbing you." I felt a twinge of regret as the men gestured with their sticks at me, like I was some wild animal. I walked over to my floating bike, and rose slowly into the sky, heading south. Was I really that scary to them? Yeah, I probably was.
Still... It hurt. I had to leave a few tears behind in the wind over the North of Westeros, and resolved to learn the F*CKING LANGUAGE.
My biggest issue was that, at the current moment, flying high enough that the air tasted thin and thin mists would break across the bow of my bike in the nighttime sky, I could not speak the language. I would have to fix that.
As I soared, I could see the curvature of the earth lit by the brilliance of stars in their uncountable numbers, and watched the ground for any sign of civilization. At first, there was nothing from horizon to horizon, then there would be tiny sparks of orange and glowing red on the ground. Possibly hunters, possibly bandits- although any bandit here would be stupid and, frankly, idiotic.
It was fucking cold.
So I flew farther south, while the sky brightened on the eastern horizon slowly, and fought drowsiness until I couldn't any longer. I found the nearest visible fire, and angled down towards it. Maybe I could catch something on my way there? Worst case, I would trade healing for food again.
It could be worse.
The eyes of the spiders looked up at the sky as I began my descent, and I saw the reflections of the stars there. They both crawled a little out of the hole I had made in this structure in order to get a better look, and I saw noticible fascination with the pattern of lights.
Oh, and I made sure to drill a small hole in the bottom of the tunnel into the engine compartment, just in case of rain.
-
Wildling parties south of the wall knew to be very cautious. The dug a pit to hide their fires, and any food they caught was either eaten or hidden.
They knew not to stay out long, and would return over the wall in time. They had to be careful- they felt that, as a group, they were too close to Last Hearth, but the pickings were good. Several kneelers who had stayed north longer than usual were dead, of course, but their stuff was good quality, and would be worth a great deal when brought back over the wall.
It was surprisingly easy to go over the wall from this side- it was the trip here that was dangerous.
"So..." Asked White-Ear (named for the massive tufts of white hair that had migrated from his head to his ears, and due to his age, the de-facto leader of the party) as he stared into the firepit. "What's the current loot?"
"Lots!" Proclaimed one of the younger, excited raiders who hadn't earned a title for deeds or distinction. "Clothes, good steel and iron tools- a few bows, and several sacks of dried meat. Still count'n."
The crack archer, Red-Haired Shanks, spit off to the side. It sizzled in the air. "Kid, those bows aren't worth the wood that they were carved from."
White-Ear blinked slowly. "Good enough for training the small ones. I think we shall be done this-" He stopped, and turned to the Warg. "Yorik! Did you hear somehing?"
Yorik, the young boy they had brought along, started. "Um... No. What..." He trailed off. "Ash sees something." The bat in the boy's hair stretched once, then leapt of his hair as Yorik's eyes rolled back in his skull. A few seconds later his eyes turned back to normal. "Ash saw something in the sky... I cannot explain it, but it smells like metal, and it's close."
White-Ear grunted. "Right. Weapons." The word was said softly, but each of the several dozen wildlings around the clearing pulled something dangerous out of a hidden location. Even the boy did so, drawing a small copper dagger.
Shanks leaned down next to the raid leader. "Ear, I don't think there's...." He trailed off as *something* drifted down from the sky, a curved shape that seemed to float like a leaf on the wind, with... "There's a man in that thing." He muttered with disbelief.
"There is indeed...." Muttered White-Ear, and he walked forward, as the thing touched down, and the man in the strange seat pulled himself up and stretched. The dark clothes didn't look right, but they didn't clank like armor.
With a subtle gesture, every wildling brandished their weapons so that they were completely visible and dangerous. Shanks drew his bow, and, like they practiced, Small Tim, the largest of their band, walked up to the smaller figure, taping a club the size of a man's leg against his hand.
"Your money or your life, kneeler." Rumbled Small Tim.
*"Am I seriously being mugged?"* Muttered the figure in a foreign tongue. *"I mean, 10/10 for timing, but minus 50 for self-preservation."*
"Does he cast spells upon us?" Whispered Yorik as the sound drifted on the silent wind.
"Be still." Muttered Shanks. "He is not sure of what to do."
Small Tim scowled- and managed, against all odds, to make his expression even more scary. "Your money or your life, kneeler. I do not ask more than once!"
The new arrival wasn't wearing a hood, so the group saw him shrug. *"Yup. Mugging. Possibly raiding, as that's a bag of weapons. Well, that makes this easier."* His garments appeared to shift like they were made of water, and a thin stream flicked at the handle of Small Tim's club with a buzzing sound like a thousand angry bees.
The club fell cleanly to the ground, the handle removed from the main haft of the weapon.
Small Tim swung a vicious round-punch at the smaller figure, but he just stepped in and jabbed at the large man's arm with a hand- and it exploded outwards in a spray of blood. Small Tim started to scream, and swung with his other hand, but the figure placed a human-like hand on the man's chest, and blue sparks shot around and over Tim's body.
The scream stopped, and the only thing that could be heard for the next few seconds was the sound of crackling sparks as they changed from eye-searing blue to a deep, white-hearted red, and flowed from Tim into the smaller figure for a few seconds before the corpse formerly known as Small Tim flopped to the ground. The small man shook his head a couple times, then turned to the others- and, now with his eyes not being illuminated by the shallow firepit, they could see the eyes glowing with ripples of red and blue sparks.
"Wow, I'm glad that worked. *I wasn't sure I would get anything other than energy from draining him. Was he really a rapist?*" Muttered the figure. "Okay, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Hi, I was wondering if you could..." He trailed off, and frowned slightly. "You're raiders?"
White-Ear nodded slowly, having fallen even out of his significant depths. "Yes... And you are?"
"Not a raider, kneeler, or wildling." Answered the figure. "Although I will trade healing for food and any steel or iron you are willing to spare."
Yorik glared at the figure behind his back. "Don't take it White-Ear! He'll do devilish magics upon us!"
"I do not do magic!" Interrupted the figure.
White-Ear raised a significant, bushy eyebrow. "Really?" And pointed at the floating object behind him.
Some more of the dark material it was wearing as clothing swirled up from the ground around them, and it's clothes grew a hood that covered the glowing eyes. "Really. I don't think this language has a word for what I am doing, so 'magic' works. Still, I swear not to curse anyone who is willing to trade food or metal weapons for being healed."
"What do you call what you did to Small Tim!?" Snapped Shanks. "He just died!"
"I call it a *deterrent*." Answered the now-hooded figure. "You don't know what just happened, but he died. Now, treat with me, or will you force me to use more of you as examples? I do not appreciate violence against me or mine."
"I think we will accept." Quickly interjected White-Ear. "A few of us have injuries from the raiding. What would you take in payment for healing three of us?"
"Enough food for a few days, a iron or steel sword or steel dagger, and a full set of clothes." The figure held up a finger for each of the items. "One condition per healing."
"Yorik, get Harvir, Rogorn, and Farthe." Commanded White-Ear without looking at the young warg. "Farthe first- that cut on her leg was bad last time I looked."
Yorik scowled, but did as he was told.
The man in the now-hooded robe waited patiently, apparently unconcerned with the bows, spears, and other weapons of the wildlings around him. When Farthe, an attractive woman with long, silky black hair and a multitude of scars visible even with the furs, was brought forward, limping even though she was being held between two healthy wildlings, he just cocked his head, reached out, and grasped her hand.
There was a ripple of blue light between his fingers, and Farthe gasped. She had been very pale before, having just managed to stem the bleeding from her leg, but White-Ear hadn't been able to do much else for the large cut that the farmer's daughter had inflicted on her. Now she looked to be almost blushing, and yanked her hand away from the young man. When she put her weight fully on her bad leg, and pushed the other wildlings holding her away, she grinned so widely that White-Ear thought the smile was going to meet behind her ears.
The hooded man just held out his hand to White-Ear, who hobbled over and handed him a bag filled with some of the dried meat they had looted. After checking through it, and sniffing a chunk, the hooded man walked over to his vehicle, and tied it to the area behind his strange seat.
The next two to come forward were both more and less injured, as Harvir had lost a few fingers in the fight earlier today, and Rogorn had been hit by an arrow as the farmer's daughter had hidden in a cabinet. The hooded man healed both of them (didn't regrow the fingers, but the wound sealed and the color returned to their faces), then held out his hand again.
For a brief moment, White-Ear considered not paying him, but as the seconds slid by, the cloak around the man began to writhe more and more- not to mention that a hum right on the edge of hearing began to creep into the zone where teeth began aching. He quickly handed over his own sword (not his best, but a good one from a couple raids back), and Farthe, after a quick muttered discussion with Yorik, handed over some of the furs they had looted on this raid that would probably fit.
The hooded man took the clothes, and, after a moment of contemplation, the clothes that he was wearing ballooned out into a vibrating dome that obscured the vision of anyone looking at him directly. The change was so abrupt that several of the bowmen fired at the dome, but the arrows stuck in the dome and the arrowshafts fell off. After that, no-one moved.
It remained for a minute or so, and then coalesced back into a hooded set of robes.
He walked back to the floating object, sat back in the seat carved into it's body, then nodded at the wildlings. "Goodbye." With a whooshing noise, the object and strange man shot up, disappearing from the meager firelight and their awareness.
-
I was PISSED. While I was thankful that I now had what passed for a 'normal' weapon in this world (a fairly plain steel straightblade sword that I would augment when I figured out how), some food, and warmer clothes so that the drain on my power became negligible, I had healed one rapist and two killers.
Then again, I only knew the language because I drained the life from that big guy... Who was also a rapist, murderer, and thief. It still made me feel sick, but it could be worse. I knew that this wasn't good- nor was my lack of emotion regarding the fact that I killed a man and drained the life from his corpse in order to recharge and learn the language they were using.
I sighed, and let the cold sap the rage from me. I now knew a great deal of what that man, 'Small Tim' knew, and yes, I was stuck in Westeros. I was going the right way, but the more disturbing knowledge was this: for some reason, the local lord, GreatJohn Umber, had been called away from his lands for some reason.
This was why the raid would have been probably returning north early- they had a significantly larger number of potential targets that were sitting, unguarded, in the winter months.
If I was remembering my ASOFAI lore, either this is after the death of Ed Stark, this is during the Greyjoy rebellion, or, worst case scenario, this is during Robert's rebellion.
In any case, I needed to get the HELL out of Westeros. Fuck being a hero- frankly, being the villain has a better half-life in a medieval setting.
-
I eventually set down for some sleep near the growing dawn on top of some craigs near the ocean to rest. I did this for several reasons, mainly because I had flown over the last large settlement several hours ago at significant speed, and because I didn't want to fly over th ocean this tired.
No sooner had I set down than the male spider leapt off my vehicle, and just... Stretched. His abdominal flaps flicked out and pulsed in several patterns and colors. After a few seconds, his mate came out as well with the egg still adhered to her abdomen.
"Yeah... Did you guys like the ride?" I didn't get an answer, but the spiders hadn't eaten anything, and so they began looking around. A lot. The fact that two dog-sized spiders had been sitting less than a foot from my face for HOURS without doing anything aggressive was indicative that they were very, very intelligent.
Sounds like they would be awesome pets, right? First step to domesticating a life form: feed it regularly.
With my magnetic sense, I could feel hundreds, if not thousands, of sparks of life in hollows within the cliff-face below, and send a small swarm of the metal dust down to collect one. In seconds, I had a muffled, protesting bird in the iron grip of maybe half-a-kilogram of the dust.
The spiders froze when they saw the bird, and the male took only a second to assess the jump before doing so. Pouncing as only a successful spider can, it had bitten the bird and backed off after leaving a dragline attached to one of the legs.
I pulled back my dust and watched as the bird, already becoming drowsy from the venom it had been injected by, attempted to escape- unsuccessfully. It fluttered around, slowing as it did so, like a kite in a dying breeze, while the male spider began to reel in its prey.
Sooner than I was frankly comfortable with, the spider had wrapped up the bird, in a tight web, and I got to watch as the male jumping spider offered it to the female, who pulled the body into the hollow near my bike's engine compartment. Then, he turned back to me, and the patterns on his back flashed a few times.
When I didn't move, the male spider turned to look at the cliff edge, then at me, and then at the cliff again.
I groaned. "Why do you act EXACTLY like Oreo did when she wanted food?" The smaller of our two family dogs were rather cute, and incrdibly expressive when they wanted something.
I sent out the dust again, and quickly collected another couple birds- and one nest with some eggs. The nest had been unintentional, but good for me- I could cook them and eat the eggs, as the two spiders jumped on the birds, wrapping them up rather than just exhausting them as the male had done with the first one.
A minute or so searching around, and I was able to use several nests to form the kindling for a decent fire. Soon, the bird eggs had the tiny hole needed in the membrane and yolk, and were sitting in the fire. I kept pulling random ones out of the fire as they cooked, checking to see if they were cooked through with a look inside, as dawn had already broken.
Eventually, with the birds entomed in silk and my stomach full of eggs, I erected the metal shards and dust into a dome over myself and the bike with a patch open for the sky and to let the smoke leave the enclosure, and got some sleep.
It had been a long day.
Waking up was... Uncomfortable. I mean, I don't mind a hard bed, but sleeping straight on the ground? Sure, I was wearing furs, in addition to my (rather destroyed at this point) pajamas, but the ground was VERY unyielding.
After rubbing my eyes and noticing that the spider-bro and his lady were huddled with their pedipalps over their eyes near the fire-pit, I reached out and unhooked the dome of shards from around us. The swarm of metal shot back into the 'engine' of my 'bike', and I lifted it off the ground again, leaving a ramp of dust for the spiders, who had twitched awake when I lifted the bike, to walk back up the ramp.
Judging from the fact that the sun was setting, and it was getting colder again, I had slept through the day. "That's good, I guess- I need to make sure that I am not seen. Flying at night should make that easier."
Still don't like the cold.
Now, plan of action- I need fresh water. That shouldnt' be too hard to get- I need to find a river then. Easiest way to find a river? Well, I had flown mostly-south to get to this cliff overlooking the sea, so all I should need to do is follow the coast southward. I will run into a river eventually.
With that in mind, I shot into the air, and stayed following the coast. My magnetic sense seemed to be about half a kilometer in radius at the moment, so I kept the bottom third looking like beach as the stars came out and the moon rose.
For hours I flew, eventually reshaping the metal dust and several dozen shards around me to form a 'compartment' or shroud (like for rockets) where I was mostly protected from the wind. Even with my power keeping me warm and feeling in my extremities, it was INCREDIBLY cold. Eventually, after going east, then north slightly, the coast turned back south, and I found myself flying for dozens of kilometers along some large cliffs that, eventually, flattened into a large peninsula, which, in the starlight, seemed to have a great deal of... Were those seals? And a castle?
I flew down, closer to the beach, and retracted my surroundings so I could get a better look in the night. Yup. Seals. I was tempted to kill one, but I had no idea if that would cause issues here. I had seen seals before (they were at the bottom of the cliffs where I had gotten the birds and eggs), but I didn't know how to harvest seal.
Still, I kept flying along the coast of what appeared to be a bay, and, SUCCESS! I found a river. Flying down it, I smelled something rather rank coming from the surface, and found.. Well, it could only be called sewage. I was glad I could not see it in detail, but I could smell it, and that was bad enough.
This is disgusting! If I wanted fresh water, I reasoned, I would need to travel upriver. Find an untainted stream or the bit before what smelled like a town or city dumped their waste into the river. Accelerating, and rising into the air slightly to make sure I wasn't splashed by the torrent of filth on the surface, I traveled down the river as fast as I could. It was fairly easy to find the source of the filth- a fairly small town, with a dock on the side of the river, where several people were tossing what could only be the contents of full chamberpots into the river from a pier.
There was a LINE, for goodness sake! I mean, I know these people didn't have any idea what hygiene was, but this was just... Revolting.
Sending down a tendril of shards and metal dust, I grabbed one of the men who had just threw their sewage into the river, and lifted him into the air while he cried out in shock and no slight pain. Metal dust isn't particularly comfortable after all.
"**A WATERSKIN!**" I vibrated the metal in my shroud, hoping to freak the man out even as I boomed in my deepest voice. The second half of that didn't quite work out, as my voice cracked partway through the event, leading me to wonder how old I actually was at the moment, but it still managed to prove that the man had something in his bladder.
"A-a-a waterskin, my lard?" He stuttered. I could feel he was ill, as his heartbeat was erratic and his breaths were labored. If he was ill, and yet out and about like this, he would have many issues. I could trade their health for a waterskin... And maybe other things.
"**Yes. Bring me a waterskin, and I will heal your family. Boil the water until I say.**" I lowered the man to the ground, and pulled the metal tentacle back into the shroud of metal that surrounded me and my craft. "**Now. GO!**"
The man began running like a shot, despite his obvious shortness of breath, and I followed, the cloud of metal surrounding me spiralling like some elemental from D&D.
It didn't take him a long time to reach his house (although it was more of a hovel), where there was a comfy-looking orange glow coming from the open windows. Three other life-sparks could be felt within, and one of them felt like almost two. Two children then, and a mother with another child? I wasn't sure yet, but it was a decent guess.
Rushing into the house, the man quickly came back out, holding a full sack that looked like a tanned liver. "H-he-here, m-my lard. Take it 'n leave me in peace."
I sighed, and had the metal outside audibly shuffle. "**Please understand, I just need clean, sterile water. And I will heal your family for it-**" He dropped the skin, and closed the door to his house as fast as possible. In the next few seconds, the windows were closed by shutters, and I sighed as even the small chimney made of mud bricks in the side had a few bars of pigiron pushed over them.
"Damn." I muttered, as I used the impromptu tentacle to lift the waterskin to my body. Opening it, the smell of alcohol assaulted my nose, and I remembered that, for most of human history, various wines and beers were safer than just drinking water.
Still, I had a method of containing water, and, after pouring out the alcohol (which I could not drink in any case- it was nasty), I went to the tops of the nearest snowy trees and filled the bottle with snowmelt. As the container was the size of a folded arm (no idea what it was made from, but it was a good size), I had enough water for a couple days.
Soaring out in a large circle, I ascended and returned to the coast, continuing to follow it as my best ticket away from this place.
-
The next day was much the same. I would fly until I couldn't concentrate, then find a place that was out-of-the-way enough for me to be willing to rest there. I eventually passed an old castle on the tip of a pennsula, a couple more rivers, and at least one small town.
When I came to an old-looking town, and realized that the shore, visible in the moonlight, was backtracking north, I clenched my anus and flew at breakneck speed straight south, not stopping until I came upon a set of three islands. One was particularly interesting, as it had a functional lighthouse, and, when I had climbed out of the range of the beam, I could see the light of a castle as well as the lighthouse and harbor-town. Seemed like as good a spot to stop as any.
Giving myself a few moments of freefall (yes, I was working on my fear of heights. No, I didn't want to think about it), I pulled up hard when the wind changed direction. The reason? The smell.
The town was RANK. And I mean worse than the sewage-smelling town I had passed earlier; it smelled like rotting pork, several flavors of what I could only call 'bad fish', on top of the general sewage/unwashed human smell of the last town. Even the spiders didn't like it, and so, keeping careful control, I quickly lowered myself to one of the docks, and, reforming my cloak of metal dust, I controlled the bike up several hundred meters into the air.
Now all I had to do was not throw up, and I might be able to find a decent cooking pot, among other things. If all cities smelled this bad in Westeros, I could only wonder how bad other cities outside the relatively-developed nation-states were.
Getting into the town was actually easy- my magnetic sense gave me a clear indicator of where everyone was relative to myself, and a pretty good idea of where they were looking. I just walked through guards and checkpoints (few though there were) when no-one was watching. That, plus the fact that I had spent years cultivating a silent stride, I was able to slip into the town from the docks without anyone thinking I was out of place.
Then I enacted my master plan: collecting spare change. See, this town was bustling even at night, and as a harbor-town of some not-insignificant location, it had business going at all hours. People would occasionally fumble, and drop change.
Quite a lot of it was sitting in the shallow depressions along the road where (I had to turn away as I noticed this) people just tended to use as a toilet. Just... Just great.
Selecting three small shards, I used them as manipulators, pushing through the muck and collecting coins even as I aimlessly wandered through the streets. Eventually, the ball of coins and filth would come to an edge, and I would, using a dozen other shards, clean the coins in the ocean once I had soaked them for some time to clean the human excriment off them.
Frankly, Westeros was disgusting.
All in all, after maybe half-an-hour of walking, and pretending to browse, I had collected three gold coins, eighteen silver ones, twenty-six bronze ones, a silver necklace with a small crow on it, several hexagonal copper tokens that I did not recognize, and an iron ring. All from the filth in one town.
Just... Damn.
Using a few other shards to form a 'pouch' (good luck pickpockets- the edges were insanely sharp) and hide it in a 'pocket' on my metal sand robes, I went back into the stalls and began looking for a decent Iron pot. Yes, I could have just stolen it, but it's nice not to have to resort to that every time I want something.
There was a tug at my 'robes', and I obligingly looked down to see possibly the most-pathetic looking child I had ever seen. She looked hungry, and very, very sick. Sores all over her hands and several on her face looked somewhat infected, and, as I looked at her, she coughed once- rather pathetically. Then there were her eyes- she looked like she had given up a long time ago, and was just going through the motions.
What she said next was just disturbing.
"Tree coppar for a tumble?"
Just... What the fuck?! Child prostitutes! I knew that, in the books and TV show that Varys the Spyder used them as his informant webs, but the reality of that was just sickning. I kept as tight a leash on my emotions as I could, as not to startle the child. I smiled sadly, and placed my hand on the top of her head (ewewew her hair is gross and full of living things!!!!!). "Five copper if you promise not to scream."
She nodded frantically, and smiled- and even that was unpleasantly, as her teeth looked like she had never even tried to clean them.
I looked around for a moment, then, when no-one was watching, I focused on HEALING this little child. Her body lit up with lightning as my cloak appeared to 'flare' in a convenient gust of wind, and, as I watched, her sores sealed. Her teeth were fixed with a strange grinding noise, and the sparks around my hand flared as everything not-human and non-beneficial was seared into oblivion.
I took my hand away as she stumbled slightly, eyes twitching with renewed focus on the world- only to come to rest on my hand, where I had placed the five coppers promised. "M'lard, wha was that?"
"You looked like you needed a little help." I didn't move a muscle while she took the copper coins from my hand, her fingers twitching with the aftershocks of being forcibly healed and energized. "Do you have any other friends who need their wounds healed?"
She looked confused. "wha' r wounds?"
"Ah." Yeah... The guy I took this language from was surprisingly eloquent and clear-spoken for a rapist and murdering raider. Right. "Any ouches like yours that can be fixed?"
Her newly-repaired grin lit up her face. "Yup! Me mum an' aunties! Tey always have ouches tey gab about!" She leaned forward like it was a secret. "Tey have issues wit the johns sometimes... An tey don't get better sometimes..."
"I see." Well, isn't this convenient. Well, healing prostitutes would be a good method of income if I had to remain in a city. "Well, I am looking for a good, iron cooking pot. Tell you what- I'll heal your Mum and aunties if you promise that they can help me pick out a good one. Deal?"
I held out a hand, coated in the metal dust.
She spit on her palm, then looked at my hand.
I sighed, and spit on my palm. Only then did she shake my 'gloved' hand- then, still holding my hand, she began navigating the streets with the ease only a native could possess.
"So... What's your name?" I asked as she drew me past tavern after tavern, turning right at a tavern with the picture of a stick-figure man inside a styalized whale on the door. "I'm Alex."
"Tat's a funny name!" She giggled as she kept pulling. "Name's Camyla Taverner, but my friends call me Cammie."
"Nice to meet you Cammie..." She had stopped in front of what was exactly the same as all the other buildings, but was probably a brothel considering the smell. Yup, I was going to be healing prostitutes. Yay?
Cammie dragged me into the building, and several of the other patrons (having all their clothes on and looking drunk), nodded approvingly at me as the prepubescent girl pulled me deeper into the brothel. I felt sickened to my stomach by that.
After several turns and twists that indicated this brothel was much larger than I expected, she pushed through a think wicker door, and WOW were there a lot of naked women in here. I quickly turned my back, and felt very glad that I was covered in 'robes'. Interestingly, there wasn't any significant reaction to this, just a resigned sigh from a few of the closest women.
"Mum!" Cammie exclaimed as she let go of my hand, and (according to my magnetic sense), lunged into the arms of one of the naked ladies. "I found someone who can help with your itch!"
And isn't that just descriptive.
In the three hours I had been in the town of Sisterton (I had to learn the name from the prostitutes), I learned many, many things. I also saw more naked women than you could find on the first page of pornhub, as once Cammie's mother (who introduced herself as Dorthy Taverner) had realized that I was responsible for healing Cammie of, well, everything, and that I would heal anyone who asked, there was a rush of prostitutes to be healed of various conditions.
And BOY there were a lot of them. This town was not even five kilometers across, but it had more than a hundred prostitutes! A not-insignificant upside from my perspective was that everyone I healed ended up looking rather attractive (still dirty, but I was thinking about how to fix this), so it wasn't hard on the eyes really.
While I was healing as many people as I could get my hands on, one of the prostitutes came back with a rather severe looking woman in a rather good-quality dress.
"Mad'm, here's the man I was telling you about-" the prostitute, I think her name was Nalia but I wasn't sure, tried to indicate me, but the taller woman smacked her, and I immediately focused on the glaring elderly lady.
"Whhy aare hyu here?!" She snapped. "Wh-hat s-hort hof p-hayment dhoo yhoo exp-hect fhor this 'healing'." She actually made the air-quotes. "Bhut all the ghirls are p-hay bhy the half-hour, ahnd whe dhoo nawt exp-hect t-ho be f-hree."
Damn lady, really? If you exhale any more you are going to cough out your spleen. "Madam, I am healing them in exchange for a cooking pot." I said this with a straight face, even as the woman (well, a girl that was maybe sixteen?) giggled as a finger was touching her forehead.
The Madam's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of her head, then she smirked evily. "Rhealy?"
"Well, I would appreciate their assistance in picking one out- I am on a journey and I need a cooking pot. Ideally, some other things as well, but I am not familiar with the area, and was hoping for some expert advice." The girl I was healing shook with suppressed laughter, then stiffened as I HEALED her. Scars from scratching at lesions disappeared, her eyes straightened, her teeth reconstructed, and her skin cleared until it was a uniform porcelain.
The Madam's jaw dropped as the blue sparks crawled along the girl's skin, leaving her perfect. Then she stared at me, all trace of humor gone. "W-hat his the p-hrise?"
What? "I do not understand." The next one came over, and I repeated the process.
"W-hat dhoo yhoo p-hay the mhagic whith?" She said slowly.
I shrugged. "I don't. It just re-re-arranges what is there, so far as I know. I..." I stopped for a moment, before directing the healing to resume. "Since you won't accept that answer, then I guess I paid the price already."
"W-hat whas the p-hrice?" She demanded, old and scarred face scowling at me. "T-hell mhee, or hI sh-hal c-hall the ghuards!"
I glared at her, and allowed a little of my power to unspool from magnetism to straight electricity. I could see the room light up with a blue glow as my eyes ignited. "Knowledge, perspective, and being banished from my world. So, please stop asking, and let me heal these people."
She didn't respond.
-
After that the prostitutes were not that happy to see me- although the last few did come for healing, the Madam had scared them with that whole 'magic had a cost' thing into trying to get rid of me as fast as possible. Upside, they did find me a cooking pot (so I would be able to boil water), a spoon, a map, and another bag for the items.
I didn't heal the Madam.
Oh, and I felt that every single one of the adult and child prostitutes seemed to have the same 'pull' inside that my power wanted to fill. It was easy not to give in, but I would have to look into that at some point.
Would I be able to make other conduits?
I added that question to the list in the back of my head, and, with a wave and wink at Cammie and her mother, Dorthy, I drew my ride back down so I could sit on it.
Their expressions were priceless.
-
The information that Dorthy gave me was almost as priceless as their expressions had been. What was being called 'Roberts Rebellion' had been in full swing for nearly 6 months, and the last she had heard from the sailors and smugglers that frequented their island, Kings landing was probably under siege by now.
That was bad, for several reasons.
Mainly, because if this world was anything like the world I remember, the Lannister Army would, near-as-makes-no-difference, rape and pillage the whole city. Thousands would be killed and raped, children would be burned alive, and the city would only survive because the combined army brought by Eddard Stark would enter the city, and the 'partying' would stop.
Just... No. Fuck that.
I had drained one man of his life just to learn the spoken language- I could deal with an army- or, at least, try some of the gambits I had read in other fanfiction.
I do not know if my speed on the bike was limited, but the acceleration was a function of how much I willed it. After taking a moment in the moonlight to look at the map, I realized that the town of Sisterton, where I was now, was almost exactly north of Kings Landing.
Sealing myself within the shroud, and putting away my map, I made sure to take a drink of water and anchor my bags to the vehicle completely.
Then I went.
As I have said before, I had no idea how fast I was moving. I wasn't exactly counting milemarkers on my journey- couldn't anyway, as I was not following roads. But I did know one thing- I could move.
And I did.
I climbed as high as I could and still breathe, then I pushed it. While I doubt I went supersonic, I do know that, when I looked behind myself, I was trailing a shockwave that was visible on the clouds that gathered around the mountains that I passed over. The air felt like a physical force, but I covered my frail human body with the metal of my journey, dropped closer to the earth so I could use my magnetic sense to see, and moved Faster.
The 'image' my magnetic sense gave me changed faster and faster until I was barely able to notice the smaller details on the ground. I think my radius of detection was around 500 meters or so, but I was moving so low that I had maybe 200 meters of image of the ground where I could 'see' anything with the shroud up.
Now though, I was moving so quickly that everything within that radius seemed to be sliding by at breakneck speed, and I had to maintain concentration so that I didn't hit any hills, or trees, or buildings in my way- which, granted, there were few of, as I was almost adhered to the mountains here, but I wanted to keep the speed up.
Every hour or so I slowed down, ascended, pulled back the shroud, and exchanged my air as well as took a look around. The first time I 'surfaced' for air, I was over a wide, winding lake/river.
The second time, I was just breaching the mountains and entering the foothills of what I think would be the Crownlands.
The third time, I had just passed over countless farms, and the moon rose over me as I could see the tracks of where an army had passed through the country.
The fourth time, I was within view of the city.
It was not a pretty sight- the army I had noticed coming in from the north? It hadn't arrived yet. Still, there was another army oozing into the city like a colony of ameboa into a maze. At my current altitude, I couldn't hear the city, but the smell of smoke was strong, and, in the little hollow I had built for the spiders, I heard one of them make the cutest damn sneeze I had ever heard an arachnid make.
This was not good for them.
I angled down, and stretched out my power, not caring if I was being seen. I *felt* the edge of the invading forces as they attacked the city, the armor and weapons giving me a very clear view of what was going on. It was wrong! Rapes, killing, and looting was happening everywhere, and I could feel all of it within my radius.
I could feel my eye twitching. These animals! Was this what sort of thing warfare had become in this world? FINE.
Reaching out, I began collecting swords in a great cometary tail as I flew over the city and the invading forces (occasionally bringing screaming men with them, but I just spun those ones until the human fell away). Arrows did nothing but add to my swarm, forming behind me until I had gathered every sword that the invading army had brought with themselves.
The sheer mass was not insignificant, and I could feel my power draining again. I was exceeding my weight limits (at the moment), but I didn't intend to hold them for long. Rather, I kept the dozen best, and the rest, I fired out into the walls of the city at shattering speeds.
While this stunt was costly for me (it took out a quarter of my power just for the acceleration of the swords, and I was down to half-power), it had crippled the invading army to some degree. Now Kings Landing would still be sacked, but every man, woman, and child who had a sharp object was that much more dangerous.
I did another sweep of the walls, adding more metal dust and shards into my personal cloak- oh, and shitloads of arrowheads. Those I layered around my vehicle like a second skin, and soon I was very armored.
Next stop: the Keep.
Of the many atrocities that I remember from the books and TV show, the Sack of Kings Landing was one of the worst. But what personally disgusted me was the actions of The Mountain and some other knight belonging to the Lannisters. Specifically, they raped the princess after killing her children in front of her, then killed her.
That act of disgusting cruelty paved the reason for the country of Dorne to being a constant irritation to everyone else in the entire series, and one of the worst death scenes ever- The Viper and The Mountain both died.
I swung in circles around the red keep, feeling the entire structure of the castle and those within as I did so. There, two figures in armor were both moving eratically, hacking away at a door in some little castle-in-the-castle.... That would probably be the Holdfast. It was surrounded by iron spikes, and nearly physically seperated from the main castle, so it would be an ideal location to defend if the city came under seige. The problem was, there was a pile of armor slowly sliding down spikes in the pit- and I think that would be one of the guards.
Fine. I guess it's time to be the big damned hero. Or just kill the Mountain.
Eh. I'd live with that.There were five human-feeling sparks of life in the Holdfast. Two of them were large, and armored very, very well- I could feel the metal around them.
Too bad for them.
With barely a thought, I unlocked the drawbridge, even as I drifted down and 'landed' on the stone floor outside the main royal apartments. The two armored men were slowly hacking their way through what (if the thickness of the locking mechanism was any indicator) was a very thick wooden door. I had some time.
Getting off the bike, I considered my options. Eh- may as well have some fun here.
My 'robes' of flowing metal dust, now rather billowy with all the extra dust I had collected while flying around the city, were pulled tight to my body as I forced the material into a hard, carapace-like structure. Thousands of arrowheads, my entire collection from my overflight of the city, crept along my body into an alien-looking mail-like armor. The thirteen swords I had kept hovered behind me, each of the blades engulfed in the metal dust except the middle one, a long, two-handed sword.
That one I covered with arrowheads, reminiscent of the weapon Samehameda.
Then, laughing with the absurdity of it all, I left the swords behind on my vehicle. I doubted I would even draw the weapon in any case. I didn't want any sort of angelic effect here.
With my armor built, I walked into the the holdfast. It was fun to build these things with my power- too bad I was probably going to kill some more people... Eh. They are likely assholes.
While Westeros and this world (whatever it's called- I never did find that out) was no WH40K, there were no end to the assholes that needed to be *dealt with*.
The two in armor were still hacking away at the door, and, after a minute or so walking towards them, I stood behind the two, silently while they continued to chip away at the door.
I waited.
They didn't notice.
I waited some more.
They didn't notice.
I sighed, and lifted them into the air. Their swords spun out of their hands, armor supporting their every struggle and ignoring every shouted oath.
"What?!" Sputtered the larger one. "How could you-" His eyes fell upon my blackened, arrowhead-covered form, and he swore. "Oh shite...."
The smaller one, being somehow less bright, started shouting. "You! Did you do this?!" I nodded silently. "When the Lannisters get here-"
"They will find two corpses." I said calmly, interrupting the rant in the only way an utterly calm and in-control voice can. "Yours." I reached out, slowly, letting the arrowhead armor peel back like a living thing to make my human hand visible- with lightning sparking between the armor and fingers. "Well, three- because of that one guard you killed, and you. And I will know everything you ever did."
Without another second (so that I wouldn't lose my nerve), I drained the smaller of the two knights, Amory Lorch. Frankly, he was a monster in life- raping without restraint, having no issues with killing anyone- women or children were no different than bandits or any other enemy soldiers to his mind.
I let the lifeless, smoking body fall to the ground, and opened the door- only to be met by the sound of whimpers.
"Excuse me?" I asked the room. More whimpers, these stifled. "Look, Kings Landing is under attack. I can get you to Dorne, but you need to come out. What should I do with the last of the two men who were attacking your room with the intent to rape and murder you all?"
Even more whimpers met that statement. Fine, well, I wasn't eloquent at the moment, hyped on adrenaline. And rage, and resignation, and a few more emotions that don't quite mesh, but oh well.
"Damned Targaryens." Snarled the Mountain, before he refocused on me. "Let me down, **Boy**, and I will grant you a swift death before I deal with the last of the dragonspawn."
More whimpers. This just isn't working at all.
"Fine. I'm just... Going to go drain this guy, steal his boots, maybe his buddies boots if they fit better, and come back when you have calmed down a bit..." The Mountain made a noise of surprise, but then I had poked him in the forehead, and I was draining everything.
He was, in a single word, monstrous. He had personally raped dozens, if not hundreds, and had a particular fondness for killing children. Images of his conquests, fights- I cared for none of that. But he was the sort of person the world would be better without, so, without any emotion, I fried his brain before drawing off what little power his body had.
I had to take a minute after that to throw up- he had been a monster beyond the others I had consumed so fare. Why did Tywin Lannister let him live? Well, that one was easy- the man was disturbingly competent in doing violence. Now? He would be lucky to be worm food. In fact...
-
I took the time to strip both bodies of their armor and weapons. Their underclothes, rather well-made wool and cotton shirt and pants were all their bodies had left.
Then, without any ceremony, I tossed their bodies into the pit with their own gauntlets, while I tried on their boots. The Mountain's were too big by far, but I could see a use for Amory's. They fit over my fur-and-reading-socked feet rather snuggly, so I tightened the straps, and, after a second or so of flailing, I found it easy to lift myself into the air.
Now I could pull a Magneto, and serenely float around if I wanted to be intimidating.
The gauntlets of both were too big, so I just wrapped them in the chainmail, along with all the other armor, and hooked them around my supplies.
"Hm... I wonder if I should collect some more provisions. What do you think princess?" I asked Elia Martell, as she clutched the hands of her children while she walked over the drawbridge. "I think Dorne is... Maybe a day or so in travel time away for me, but I need a decent map for that." I pulled out the map, and formed a flat surface out of the metal dust for it to be placed on. "Now, it looks like I could hop this mountain range if I just took a straight line from the road going into the northern side of Kings Landing, but it's also a fairly long way off along it's own peninsula. Maybe I could go straight south instead, and follow the road to Highgarden first."
I made sure to sweep back the armor of arrowheads, which went back to armoring my ride. I was feeling pretty good, power-wise, after draining those two. That way I looked, at least, somewhat human.
"They were really coming to kill us, weren't they." Stated Elia, giving me a rather intense look.
Yeah, I have no idea what is going on here. I turned back to my bike. "Yes. They were. As far as I am aware, Tywin Lannister wanted them to make sure there was no possibility of anyone being able to rally others against their own candidate for the Iron Throne." Oh right- I could easily destroy that. "That reminds me- do you mind if I go about throwing the Iron Throne in the sea? I can reach it from here."
I could too- the castle wasn't exceptionally large. "Okay, everything is packed away- I have enough enough food to easily get to Highgarden- pick up some food there, then continue south."
"You can throw the iron throne in the sea- from here?" It looked like she was having an issue with that idea. "How?"
I turned to the Princess. "I have a floating vehicle here, and I am covered in metal powder and arrowheads. Let's just call it magic, okay? Now, do you want my help escaping to Dorne, or do you want to stay here?"
-
"BY THE SEVEN THIS IS AMAZING!" Screamed Elia Martell as she sat on the back of my vehicle, holding her children in a seat I had fashioned from the breastplates and other armor pieces, as well as decent amounts of metal dust. "Do you always go places by flying?"
I took a moment to answer, pulling away from the keep even as the city below slowly stopped smouldering.
"I've been getting used to it... But when I get the chance? Yes." I admitted over the wind. "Now, we are going fairly slowly. High-speed will mean you won't be able to see out, so... I'm sorry about the darkness. But believe me, you do not want to have any bits frozen off by the wind-chill."
"Wait, what?"
I pulled the metal dust up around us as we began to slow down, making sure to keep the Ray Sphere and it's glowing LED's pointed inward to provide a little bit of light. "I mean exactly what I said- as you move faster, you get colder, then hotter. At the speed we will be going, you either need to be protected with heavy furs, or by this shield." I tapped on the dust-cover as it finished sealing over, leaving the inside only lit by a few sparks of blue.
She took a minute or so to think about it, and then nodded. Her children, having been exhausted by the night's events, looked like they were falling asleep where they sat. "Now we cannot see, how will you know when we get to Highgarden?"
"I won't need to." I pulled out the map with a few tentacles of metal dust, and angled the Sphere's lights above her so that she would be able to see it. "While there is indeed a decently-long ocean voyage, I can keep us going dead south from even in here-"
She squeaked as I increased the rate of acceleration for a few seconds. "What was that? It felt like we were being pulled back! Pushed back?"
"We needed to speed up a lot to get to the speed needed to make this journey quickly." I informed her. "Look- think about how long it would take by boat or horse to go from... Sunspear?" When she didn't correct me, I rolled with it. "Think about how long that would be, and consider how fast those are. Now, I want to make the same trip in less than a day, so I have to make sure we are moving very, very fast in order to cover the same distances."
"And... The fast-moving air makes us colder?" She sounded like she was having a hard time with the idea.
"Yes." I moved the sphere into a spot in the canopy of metal dust and embedded it there. "Our journey will take some time. Let me know if you need anything- and let me know if you feel like the air is becoming stale."
"Stale?" The Princess sounded worried. "What does that mean?"
"You'll know when it happens."
I don't think I reassured her.
-
I hadn't reassured her.
We had to slow for air fairly often- two adults (I think- I wasn't sure how old I was and I hadn't looked in any mirrors- nor could I feel my current age, as the lightning in my veins overrode EVERYTHING), two children, and two spiders used up the air faster than one adult (probably) and two spiders did.
As for the course- I drove us at supersonic speeds as low as I was comfortable. IE: I could barely see the ground, and any time I got a flash of something intersecting with my field I made sure to follow the curve of it.
I was, in effect, using the trees as a buffer for myself, and followed the road that went south-south-southeast initially. According to the map, the first part of the road shot straight to Sunspear. Specifically, we would pass by a town marked as 'BronzeGate' before the road began to turn south, and would, after many, many more kilometers, turn west slightly into the city of 'Storm's End'.
From Storm's End I can go almost exactly Southwest to, over a bay to the peninusla of 'Rain House', then another oceanic leap (I think- these maps aren't too detailed) before hitting the Coast of Dorne. From there I just need to continue roughly south, and follow the coast until I came across a large city.
Then I would need more fine-tuned directions.
At the speeds I was having us go, I reached the coast in less than 45 minutes (at best estimate), and soon was flying at speed around the coast. I think that I was going at around mach 2 judging from the fact that I had a SHOCK CONE, but that wasn't my problem.
Still, I decelerated as I began seeing more and more flashes of people along the beaches, then even more slowly as I passed more and more advanced cities. Once I had dropped below supersonic speeds and opened the cockpit, I got a good look at what was probably the city of Sunspear.
In the darkness, I could only see the edges of the city in the moon and starlight- well, where it wasn't illuminated by some torch or other. My other senses could feel the edges of the sandstone-based architecture, and I could smell the stench of fish and unwashed humanity from over a hundred meters up. I had trouble not gagging from the smell- somehow, it was almost worse than that brothel town.
Almost.
The Princess, on the other hand, took a deep breath and sighed happily as the children began blinking and looking down with wonder (and not a little fear) on the town below. "Ah, I never could forget the smell of the spice fields."
I did another bank, getting a better view of the place. All I could see that really stood out were the walls and the massive ship-shaped building that was probably the palace. "I don't see any fields of spice."
"You wouldn't at night." I felt Elia grin as she spoke. "The Martells have some of the best-guarded enclosed fields in the world."
"Huh." I took a second to think about that, but turned my attention back to the city and slowed to a bare walking speed. "So... Any place where we should land? Preferably where you could quickly re-unite with your family and I can leave to go find... Where was it..." I let us slowly begin descending. "The Tower of Joy? Is that actually a thing?"
If I hadn't had my power-based sense, I would have missed the fact that her focus shot to me so fast that her brain almost slapped herself in the nose. "Why would you want to go there?" Wow, the princess was not a poker player. I could FEEL the sheer distrust that my question generated.
Seriously? We were over a hundred meters in the air above the city, held up by my power, and she didn't think I had altruistic intentions? Well, she was more cynical than most people from my home, so... Alright. Let's see... "Have you ever read a story, and thought 'hmmm.... Well, I could do better than that?'" No response. "Imagine then that there was a story - actually, screw the delicate metaphors." I just wanted this to be over so I could go explore and have made one family, at least, a little happier.
I expect that I would probably end up killing a LOT of people in time.
"Think about it like this: I saved your life. Possibly more than once, considering that if I had left you there, I doubt that the army sacking the city would have been very merciful." She winced. "So when I say 'I think you and the late prince had an... Let's call it arrangement? With a Stark lady of attractive disposition.'; please understand that I do not intend you harm. I merely want to tweak one of the few issues I can fix while I am here."
There was a long moment as we continued to spiral down towards the city before anyone spoke.
"Land in the courtyard there." Elia leaned forward enough so that she could point in front of me, indicating a green terrace under the 'bow' of the ship-shaped structure as the sun began to crest the horizon. The dawn light sparkled as tiny reflections off of waters in the garden highlighted
I began to descend towards the structure, only veering over slightly to allow a tendril of metal to impale a bird that was flying up past us (which I discretely passed to my two spider passengers; they had already begun to lose their more insulating hair, even though I kept the chamber of their cool with the use of a small pipe that channeled the supersonic air), before landing in utter silence.
Said silence was soon broken as a guard rounded one corner, and shouted. "INTRUDERS IN THE BOW TERRACE GARDENS!" Then he drew his sword.
"Yeah, no." I *pulled* the excess metal dust, all the finest quality material around myself, and adhered it straight onto my body. He couldn't hurt me- the sword was made of steel, and somewhat diamagnetic, so I could manipulate it, but I was not willing to just be stabbed out of courtesy. Thankfully, I didn't need to hurt anyone, as the sight of metalic scales covering my body and face, with glowing eyes as I let my electrical power out to play for a bit.
I probably looked like a Sentinel.
Or something similar at least, on a human scale.
*"So...."* I rumbled, letting my control over the metal transmit my voice through my armored skin. *"Is the... Huh. What is the name of the leader of this city? Or area?"* I turned to the princess, who was carrying the smaller of her two children and holding the sleepy hand of the other one. *"Would you call him a prince? King? Lord? Seriously, give me a suggestion, I'm not good with titles."*
The princess managed to look somewhat concerned, exasperated, and regal all at once in the dawn. "He is the Prince of Sunspear, Lord of Dorne. However, I am, at the moment, more relieved to see my brother, Oberyn, although, dear brother, I wouldn't't point a spear at the person who saved me."
I could feel the people who had arrived in the short lull that our conversation had induced, and when one of the men took a step out from a deeper shadow behind a pillar, I had already given him my full attention.
He was tall, somewhat willowy really, with the body that you only get if you do massive amounts of endurance training or practice swimming for hours a day, with defined features even in the rising sunlight, and rather long black hair. He was also the only member of the people who had run to face me who was not wearing body armor, and carried a spear that was maybe a head shorter than he was. "Sister! What brought you home? Not that I am not relieved to see you, but I had thought you were under the 'king's protection' in King's Landing? How could you have gotten here so fast, when you send me a raven only two days ago?"
Elia looked down and I could hear the tears in her voice as she clutched her infant son to her chest with her right hand. "King's Landing has fallen. They were trying to get into the keep! The holdfast! Then this child saved me, and-"
*"Hold on. How old do you think I am?"* I turned to look at her, my eyes blazing with lightning.
That seemed to take her off guard. "Maybe 14 winters? 15 at most?"
I *felt* my left eye begin to twitch. Damn ROB, first you send me to Westeros, then you de-age me? I have constitutional growth delay, for fuck's sake! My bones were still closing when I was 26, and you de-age me to this?! Fuck it, I'm going to put a priority on getting a mirror. *"Nevermind, just... Continue with your reunion. Is there anyone I can negotiate with for my services in rescuing your sister-wife here, or do I need to wait? I don't know how much time she has in that tower, and I need a few things in payment."*
"Sister-wife?" Oberyn looked at Elia, who walked over to the prince while I was twitching. "That Stark girl?"
"Lynna Stark... Well, Lynna Targaryen." Elia looked down as her daughter sleepily rubbed her eyes, and looked up at her mother.
"Are we gonna see Mother Lynna soon?" Rhaenys asked quietly. "I miss her..."
*"She's probably still fine."* I rumbled. *"So... Negotiating my services?"*
Oberyn looked between Elia, her children, and me. "So... What is the name of your.... Shining Savior?"
"And what makes him think he is allowed to enter the palace without leave of the guard, or anyone with the permission to grant such?" Asked a slightly older man, as he came up a staircase, flanked by a very attractive woman.
*"I can control metal with my mind."* I shrugged. *"And I am kinda, you know, interfering in current events."*
"That... That didn't explain anything." Elia protested.
*"Well, that's not really my fault."* I turned back to my bike, where I could see spider-bro and lady-spider-bro pushing their insulating hairs out of the hole in the bike that led to the outside. It was rather hot... I began pulling and twisting magnetic fields in a small area around the armor on my hand. After a few seconds of trying different patterns, the armor frosted over, so I memorized that pattern of electromagnetic flux, and applied that over the inside of their burrow. They stopped pushing out the hairs, and retreated back into the hole.
My plan to head south may have been a bit... Premature if I wanted to keep Spider-Bro and his Lady around.
"Who's fault is it then?" Asked Elia, even as Oberyn sighed, and picked up his... Niece? Yes, Niece.
*"Arr. Oh. Bee's. But you wouldn't get that reference. Look, I am not even supposed to be here, so if we could just get to the negotiating bit, I'll be on my way, and retrieve the other bride of your prince."* I looked around, and pulled back my armor so I could feel the sun a little bit. It was... Nice. Crisp air, warm sunlight, disgusting smells- nope. Covering up again because that smell is disgusting. *"My deal is simple- I want Glass."*
That made Oberyn, Elia, and the other one (I think his name was Doran or something) look somewhat confused.
*"Clear glass, as flawless as thick as possible, in triangular shape, each side being equal in length to one hand, and with iron or lead edging."* That didn't help clear up the confused looks. *"Okay, I am willing to retrieve the other member of the royal family, in exchange for as much thick, clear glass as you can put together of the dimensions I described. As I am willing to bet that she is pregnant..."* I turned to Elia, who nodded slightly. *"Right, she's probably pregnant. You might to have your midwives or Maester or anyone else who has experience with helping mothers through childbirth ready after I retrieve her."*
I began to lift myself into the air. *"I'll be back. Please have my glass ready by then."* I mounted my bike, letting my metal dust armor meld into the bike as the arrowheads and other fragments oriented for minimum drag. In a few moments of acceleration, I was cruising just under the speed of sound at over a kilometer up, and I began my search for the Tower of Joy.
I really need to figure out a name.
-
The guards ushered Elia into one of the many sitting rooms in the palace of Sunspear, and soon the Maester was fussing over her and her children.
Oberyn and Dorean Martell watched her, and the children, for any sign of illness. When, an hour later, the Maester concluded on not finding any problems at all, the elder man begged off, leaving the three siblings and two children alone.
"So... Who is he- or she? I couldn't actually tell through the armor." Dorean asked casually, as Elia began to feed a grumbling Aegon. "Do you believe he or she can collect Lynna Stark from wherever she is?"
"Rhaegar sent Lynna to the Tower of Joy." Elia didn't spend time on dancing around the subject. "And yes, I believe him- you saw that he could fly on that... Thing." The princess didn't know what that magical item was called, but the strange man-child used it to fly.
Dorean frowned, and steepled his fingers together. "You were just in King's Landing earlier tonight, yes?"
The princess nodded, and tucked her breast back away as Aegon stopped feeding, and was staring around with wide, curious eyes.
Oberyn drew in a sharp breath. "Imagine how powerful our armies could be if we could persuade this... Whatever his name is, to share such magic with our men." He began pacing. "Other than that glass he mentioned-"
"We should pay him as soon as he returns."
Elia's voice pulled her brother out of his pacing. "Really? Why such a rush? Do you not think he would appreciate living, for a short while, in our lovely city?"
"I do not know..." She bit her lip in thought. "But I do not believe he would appreciate us trying to force him to stay here. Whoever he is, he had been moving faster than anything I have ever seen, and I have seen what he can do to people. He *touched* the Mountain, Oberyn, and the man started convulsing, as if he was being tortured in a way I had never seen before. Then the Mountain just... Died. Without a sound, or a way to fight back." She clutched her baby tighter. "The only reason I let myself, Aegon, or Rhaenys near him is because there was an ARMY pillaging it's way through the city! We do not need monsters like that around here."
"I will see it done immediately." Dorean reached out to a wall, and pulled a silk rope that was hidden in an alcove. Deeper in the palace, a bell rang, waking up a servant who arrived within a minute. He snapped to attention as soon as he saw who was ringing the bell, and the Lord of Dorne nodded. "Good time. Now, I want you to go to the kitchens, and ask for an early breakfast to us four." He gestured around at the group. "We will be taking it on the Sunrise Terrace. When you have done that, I want you to take this marker-" he held out an intricately-tied silk item the size of a bookmark, "-and send it via runner to the head of the Glassmaker's guild in the merchant quarter. I want to see them within the hour, as I have an urgent job for them. Now, go!"
The servant got, and Dorean waited until the door closed.
"I agree with Elia that we should pay him sooner than later..." Dorean began, as the Viper and the Princess waited for his descision. "But Oberyn is right- if he is willing to share his power, and work under us, he would be a great asset for Dorne."
"I admit, I have known him for but a few hours-" Elia ignored Oberyn's chuckle. "- however, I will not endorse this." She looked as if she was going to get up, and thought better of it. "Now..." The princess picked up her daughter, and ballanced the children so one was one one knee, and one was on the other. "Rhaenys? Are you going to greet your uncles like I taught you?"
The child rubbs her eyes sleepily, nodds with a tired "Yes mother.", then carefully curtsies to the older men. "Hello Uncle Oberyn, it is nice to see you are well, Lord Dorean." Then, she looks up at her mother's face. "Did I do it right?"
"You did very well, Rhaenys." Elia reached out, and guided her sleepy daughter back into her arms, where the child drifted off almost immediatly. "She is very smart, and learns fast."
Oberyn leaned forward, even as servants became to come in, bringing breakfast-foods into the room. "How old is she? Yes, some of the tea."
"She is just over a year old now." Elia took a cup from one of the offering servants, who quickly and professional squeezed some fresh juice from a fruit into it. "She began talking a month ago, and her dictation is excelent."