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Extra Chapter for completing 300 Power Stones
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Their own expressions turned curious, interested, waiting intently for his answer.
…
Tytan looked down at the small, fiercely determined girl staring up at him, her eyes wide with hopeful expectation.
Magic powers? Gods? He suppressed a small sigh.
He could already guess where this was going. She wanted a show, a trick. He'd dealt with whispers and rumors like this before, mostly back in King's Landing among the servants or sometimes wide-eyed squires.
He was honestly on the fence about whether to bother obliging her right now, here, in the middle of the feast hall.
"Sure," Tytan replied with a casual shrug, deliberately downplaying it. Maybe a simple answer would satisfy her.
No such luck. Arya Stark wasn't the type to be easily put off. "Can you show me?" she asked bluntly, completely undeterred by his short, almost dismissive response. Her gaze didn't waver, filled with pure, unfiltered hope. Bran, standing beside her, nodded eagerly, his eyes just as wide.
Tytan cocked an eyebrow, studying her eager face for a moment longer. He saw the genuine wonder there, not just childish curiosity but real fascination. He let out another faint sigh, this one audible.
Alright, fine. He'd humour her. He did little tricks like this for Tommen and Myrcella sometimes back home, making water dance or freezing small shapes to make them laugh.
What was the harm in showing these little northern wolves a glimpse? It might even be amusing to see their reactions.
"Why not," he finally agreed, a small smile playing on his lips.
With that decided, Tytan carefully placed his now-empty silver goblet back down on the crowded, messy table.
He pushed his chair back slightly to give himself a little room, then raised both his hands slowly in front of him, palms facing upwards.
He closed his eyes for just a second, concentrating, reaching out with that part of him that felt connected to the world in ways others couldn't understand.
He focused on the air itself, on the tiny, unseen droplets of moisture hanging between the smoky torchlight and the press of warm bodies condensation from breath, spilled drinks soaking into the wood, the general dampness of the northern air.
Slowly, the air around his outstretched hands began to shimmer, like heat haze rising off hot stones, but cooler, clearer.
A faint, almost invisible mist seemed to gather above his palms. Then, bit by bit, actual drops of water began to appear, coalescing out of thin air, drawn together by his will.
They merged, grew, forming a small, trembling sphere of clear water that hovered magically just inches above his skin. It pulsed slightly, catching the torchlight like a liquid jewel.
Arya's eyes stretched impossibly wide, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. Bran leaned forward intently, his gaze locked on the floating water orb, completely mesmerized.
Beside them, Robb's challenging grin had vanished, replaced by wide-eyed astonishment, his jaw slightly slack.
Even Theon Greyjoy's usual cocky smirk had completely disappeared, his face showing nothing but stunned disbelief. They were seeing real magic, right here in the middle of their father's hall.
Seeing their reactions, especially Arya's pure, unadulterated wonder, Tytan felt a genuine smirk spread across his own face. This part was always fun. He kept his focus steady, beginning to gently shape the hovering water with subtle movements of his fingers, like a sculptor working invisible clay.
The sphere elongated, shifted, flowed. Tendrils of water stretched out, forming legs, a head, a tail. Soon, the orb had transformed into the perfect, miniature shape of a wolf.
It looked just like the grown-up versions of those little direwolf pups Tytan had seen the Stark children playing with earlier.
Or at least, he assumed they were direwolves. Big shaggy things, anyway. Could just be large dogs, he supposed. Didn't really matter for the trick.
Either way, floating above his hands now was a small, perfectly formed wolf made entirely of clear, shimmering water, maybe six inches tall from paws to ears.
With another subtle mental nudge, Tytan sent the watery lupine leaping gracefully from his hands. It didn't fall.
Instead, it bounded through the air towards Arya, its paws seeming to find purchase on invisible ground, moving with a lifelike energy as Tytan controlled its every step.
His raw power might have been less than it once was, back in his old life, but his fine control over it? That was as sharp and practiced as ever.
Arya let out a delighted giggle as the watery wolf landed softly, almost weightlessly, in her cupped hands. She stared down at it, utterly captivated, then looked back up at the smiling Tytan, her eyes shining with pure awe.
His little demonstration hadn't gone unnoticed, either. The sudden stillness at their table, the gasps and wide eyes, had drawn the attention of others nearby.
People sitting at the adjacent tables had fallen silent, conversations trailing off as they turned to stare. Now, a ripple of awareness was spreading further through the hall.
Heads were turning, people were pointing discreetly, murmurs were starting to build.
Tytan could feel dozens of eyes suddenly fixed on him, a mixture of expressions visible even in the dim light more surprise, open-mouthed awe, but also, from a few older, more cautious faces, a flicker of unease, maybe even fear. Magic wasn't just storybook stuff here, apparently.
"Well," Tytan said, deciding it was time to wrap this up before it caused too much of a stir, "that should last for a couple of hours, if you're careful with it." As he spoke, he gave a tiny, almost imperceptible flick of his fingers. Instantly, the shimmering water wolf in Arya's hands solidified, frosting over in a heartbeat.
Arya let out a small yelp, more from surprise than pain, as the little wolf abruptly turned cold and hard in her grasp. The sudden chill against her skin startled her. She was now holding a perfect little ice sculpture, smooth and cold, capturing the wolf mid-stride.
"Right then," Tytan announced, pushing his chair back further and standing up smoothly. "I think I'll call it a night here." He stretched slightly, feigning a yawn.
"Got that spar with Robb bright and early tomorrow morning, after all. And I think Father mentioned something about a hunt in the afternoon. Need to get some rest."
Of course, that wasn't his real reason for leaving so abruptly. Not entirely.
The truth was, he didn't particularly fancy spending the rest of the evening being gawked at like some traveling mummer who could do cheap tricks. The whispers and stares were already starting to annoy him.
Plus, he knew or at least, very strongly hoped that a certain beautiful, willing redhead was currently waiting for him back in his chambers, probably getting impatient. That was a far more appealing prospect than staying here.
Still, his excuse seemed plausible enough. Many of those nearby who had witnessed the display nodded in understanding, even if a few faces, especially the younger ones like Bran and Arya, looked a bit disappointed that the magic show was over so soon. They clearly wanted to see more.
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Every 300 Power Stones = 1 Extra Chapter.
If you want to read ahead by 10+ Advance chapters you could take a visit on my patreon Or check it out.
http://patreon.com/SageOf016