The winds blew cold off the Shivering Sea as Hadrian stood on the high cliffs of Skagos, overlooking the turbulent waters below. Kingshouse, the ancient seat of House Magnar, lay in the distance, its jagged, weather-worn walls barely standing against the elements. It had endured centuries of wildling raids and the harsh winters of the North, but its time had come to an end. The same was true for the small port that clung to the coastline, a collection of wooden docks and shoddy buildings barely holding together against the biting salt air.
Hadrian's eyes narrowed as he observed the landscape, his mind whirring with plans for the future. His new kingdom would not be ruled from this crumbling relic of a bygone era. Kingshouse, with its meager port and primitive defenses, could not support the vision he had for Skagos. It would not serve as the heart of the power he was building.
No, something grander was needed. Something fitting of a lord who had conquered three houses and would reshape the island from its wild, primitive roots into a fortress of strength and power. And with the knowledge he had gained over the years, knowledge learned from countless ancient texts and his own mastery of magic, Hadrian knew he could do it.
He raised his staff, the ancient wood humming with barely-contained energy. It had been his companion through battles, his source of strength in moments of doubt, and now it would serve as the tool to reshape this island into something new. With a soft word, spoken in the ancient language of magic, the ground beneath him rumbled.
The deconstruction of Kingshouse began swiftly. Stones that had been laid centuries ago trembled and then began to pull apart as if they were nothing more than leaves in the wind. Roofs caved in, towers collapsed, and the port's rickety wooden structures splintered and broke as if some unseen force was tearing them from their foundations. The people of Skagos, watching from a distance, stood in awe as their ancient seat of power was systematically dismantled, stone by stone, plank by plank, as though the island itself was being remade.
Hadrian worked quickly, guiding the process with effortless control. The destruction of Kingshouse was not chaotic; it was purposeful, controlled. Every piece of stone, every beam of wood was lifted from the ruins and set aside, ready to be repurposed. His magic hummed in perfect harmony with the land itself, the vibrations of the earth resonating with the magic in his staff. The ancient stones, once part of a fortress that had stood for hundreds of years, now lay in neat piles, waiting for their new purpose.
The small port followed next. Wooden piers cracked, snapping like brittle bones as they were lifted from the freezing waters. The waves, previously crashing against them, now lapped at nothing but open air. Buildings that had once housed traders, fishermen, and the occasional traveler disintegrated into planks and beams, all floating in the air around Hadrian, suspended by his will.
When the last piece of the old Skagosi stronghold had been stripped away, an eerie silence fell over the land. The winds paused, as if holding their breath, waiting for what would come next.
Hadrian turned his gaze to the open plateau that stretched out before him. This was where he would build. Not a relic of the past, but a new beginning—a seat that would last for ages. He closed his eyes for a moment, envisioning the structure he would raise from the ground, pulling from the memories of the great fortresses and magical buildings he had seen or read about in the world he had left behind. It would be vast, grander than any of the castles on Skagos, but more elegant than the brutish stone fortresses the North was known for. It would be built with magic, not just stone, and would be infused with power that would make it a beacon in the cold wilderness.
Hadrian spread his arms wide, and with a whisper of power, the ground began to tremble again.
This time, however, it was not destruction that followed, but creation.
From the depths of the earth, stone began to rise. Great slabs of dark grey rock, veined with silver and obsidian, emerged from the ground, forming the foundation of what would become his new castle. These stones were different from those of Kingshouse, heavier and imbued with magic that would make them nearly impervious to damage. The base of the castle grew outward in a wide, circular pattern, strong and stable, ensuring that the structure could withstand the fiercest storms the Shivering Sea might throw at it.
Walls of black stone began to rise next, towering and seamless, as if they had been carved from a single piece of rock. These walls curved gracefully, forming the outer perimeter of the fortress. Each stone was meticulously shaped by Hadrian's magic, fitting perfectly together without the need for mortar or other supports. The walls were thick and imposing, but not without beauty. Inlaid into the dark stone were intricate patterns of silver and gold, depicting ancient runes and symbols of protection. These would not only serve as decoration but would also reinforce the castle's defenses, making it impervious to any mundane or magical attack.
At the heart of the structure, a grand tower began to rise, its base wide and sturdy, narrowing as it reached toward the sky. This central tower, the keep, would be the heart of the new stronghold, a symbol of Hadrian's power. It rose far higher than any other building on Skagos, visible from miles away. At its peak, he envisioned a great beacon, one that could be lit in times of war or to signal his command to the island's people. This beacon would be no ordinary flame but one powered by ancient magic, glowing with a cold blue light that would cut through the thickest fog and darkest nights.
Inside the keep, the rooms took shape with Hadrian's direction. The grand hall was the first to be formed, its ceiling high and vaulted, supported by pillars of black stone flecked with silver. At the far end, a raised dais would hold his throne—crafted not from iron or wood, but from the same dark stone as the rest of the castle. Its back would rise high behind him, carved with intricate symbols of power, dominance, and protection. This hall would be where he would hold court, where the lords of Skagos would come to pledge their loyalty or seek his favor.
Beyond the grand hall, other chambers formed—council rooms, libraries, armories, and training halls. Each was built with purpose, designed not only for the comfort of those who would live within the walls but for the defense and governance of an entire kingdom. The armory was stocked with weapons that Hadrian had conjured from his magic, blades sharper and stronger than any forged by mortal hands. The training halls were spacious, with enough room for soldiers to practice their skills, preparing for the day when Skagos might need to defend itself from invaders.
Hadrian's private chambers were located high in the central tower, overlooking the Shivering Sea. These rooms were more than just a place to rest; they were a sanctuary where he could study, plan, and continue his magical research. A vast library lined the walls, filled with books and scrolls from both this world and the one he had left behind. The windows were tall and narrow, allowing in the cold northern light but designed to keep out the freezing winds. From here, he could see far across the island, ensuring that no corner of Skagos would go unseen by its new ruler.
In the lower levels of the castle, Hadrian designed a network of tunnels and hidden passages, known only to him and his most trusted allies. These would serve as escape routes in times of danger, or as secret paths through which he could move unseen. Deep beneath the castle, in the very foundations, he carved out a massive underground chamber. This would be his sanctum, a place of raw, ancient magic where he could conduct rituals and experiments far away from prying eyes. The air in this chamber thrummed with energy, as though the earth itself was alive with power.
As the final stones of the castle slid into place, the structure stood complete, looming over the surrounding landscape. It was a fortress unlike any other, combining the raw, brutal strength of the North with the elegance and power of magic. Its dark walls seemed to absorb the light around it, making it both an imposing sight and a hidden stronghold in the wilderness of Skagos.
The small port that had once served as a gateway to Kingshouse was remade as well. The docks, now sturdy and built from black stone to match the castle, stretched out into the freezing waters of the Shivering Sea. New warehouses and barracks for sailors and soldiers lined the waterfront, all of them connected to the castle by a wide, paved road. A lighthouse stood at the edge of the docks, its top alight with the same blue flame that would crown the castle's beacon.
Hadrian stood at the edge of the cliff, surveying the work he had done. His new fortress was complete, and with it, a new era for Skagos had begun. The people would gather here in three moons, as he had commanded, and when they arrived, they would find a land transformed, no longer ruled by the petty lords of old but by a leader who wielded both magic and strength.