Alysanne's lips pressed together.
She's already measuring the distance… and the weeks.
"That is a long journey," she said carefully. "And very far from here. Why the North of all places?"
"I've read of the Wall all my life," Aegon replied. "A fortress like no other in the world. And you and the King have seen it yourselves. I'd like to see it too."
Her eyes softened with memory. "You would find it colder than you expect. The wind there cuts like a blade, even in summer."
He smiled faintly. "Cold I can bear."
Alysanne sighed. "Still…it is no small thing you ask. The Crown would need to send carriages, guards, supplies. Such matters cannot be made light of."
"Unless," he added quickly, almost finishing her thought, "I went on Dreamfyre… Alone."
Hearing this, her frown deepened at once. "Alone? Aegon, you are still…"
He cut in gently, his tone steady. "I'd still like to see it. It's not as if I'd be walking into danger. The Starks are known for their loyalty. If anyone in the north could be trusted with my current status, it's them. And…" He let the pause linger, the faintest smile tugging at his lips, "…you know what I can do. Even a knight in full plate would not last against my flames. I would hardly be helpless."
Her mouth tightened. She then looked at him with quiet sternness. "Do not let fire make you arrogant, Aegon. Not every foe comes with a sword in hand. Fire does not guard against every danger: poisons, whispers, daggers in the dark. Sometimes it is caution that is tested, not strength."
Aegon bowed his head slightly. "You are right." But his [Observer] class made the rest plain to him: the slight tremor in her breath, the way her hand gripped the shawl, the shadow in her eyes.
She is warning me with memory. Losses she has already endured. She fears I trust fire too much.
Better to let her believe I have taken her lesson fully.
He lifted his gaze again, calm. "Even so… the thought of seeing the North calls to me."
Alysanne held his gaze, her face composed, but he could read her as easily as the pages of a book. She still does not want me to go. Thinking about loss. Her children.
"You have always been here with me, Aegon," she said softly. "And I have already watched too many of my children leave…some never to return."
"I know." His voice was gentle. "That's why I'm not asking to leave tomorrow. Only in spring, after my tenth name day. I don't want to be a prince who has only known two castles. I want to see the world beyond them."
Alysanne looked down at her hands, fingers curling into the fringe of her shawl.
She's searching for a reason to say no that will not wound me.
At length she said, "If you go, it must be with your father's knowledge… and the King's. And the Starks must be told in advance."
"That's what I hoped," Aegon said, easing back slightly. "A word from you would carry weight with the Starks. They would see me safe. And it would strengthen our ties besides."
Her gaze lifted again, a trace of hesitation still in it. "And how long will you be gone?"
"A season perhaps," he answered. "Three, maybe four months."
He hesitated, then added, "I had thought Viserys might join me…two brothers riding together. But in his last letter he said Balerion was giving him trouble."
Her lips curved faintly, though worry lingered. "As if the Black Dread would allow himself to be mastered so easily. He is old, and ill-tempered. Perhaps too old for such journeys." She looked back to Aegon. "The Starks would keep you safe, yes. Yet still, I would rather you wait a few more years. I would not see you restless as your father was… always away."
"I truly wish to go," Aegon said, insistent but warm. "But not in haste. Spring seemed a good time…only so you'd know I wasn't rushing."
Alysanne exhaled, slow and quiet.
She thinks I'm being stubborn. That this is the start of a boy turning into a willful youth. Aegon waited patiently.
At last she nodded. "Then I must write to your grandfather."
Finally…
Aegon's face brightened with a boy's smile, unguarded and genuine. She could not help but return it, though faintly.
"Good," he said, rising to his feet. "I'll go back to my studies now."
"Be back in time for supper," Alysanne called after him, her eyes following as he walked away.
When he was gone from sight, her fingers tightened on the edge of her shawl. The sea wind felt colder than it had a moment before.
Black Vault Tower
Aegon entered his chamber. He glanced once at his desk and the papers scattered there, then turned toward the window.
The shutters were half open, letting the winter morning air creep inside. He stepped closer, set both hands on the cold stone sill, and leaned forward. The wind struck his face, sharp and bracing. For a moment he closed his eyes, letting it wash over him.
The heaviness lingering in his heart lowered slightly.
He felt sad for his grandmother. He could see the strange attachment she held toward him, yet he did not mind. He knew it came from old grief, the marks of wounds so deep they could never truly heal.
The sorrow of a mother who had buried too many of her children.
He drew a long breath, letting it out slowly. Then another. Until the tightness in his chest eased.
At last he opened his eyes, steadier now. The sadness remained, but he set it aside coldly. He turned back and walked toward the desk.
The talk with Grandmother is done. Now to the other tasks.
On the desk lay several parchments, but three had been set aside neatly, as if waiting for him. He pulled them closer and laid them side by side. The headings, written in his own careful hand, read:
Prototype Healing Spell
Rune Deduction from Living Matter (Plants & Animals)
Meditation Method for Common Use
Each was a project he had set for himself.
Aegon's eyes lingered on the second.
Rune Deduction from Living Matter (Plants & Animals).
The idea of drawing runes from living things had come with the [Wizard Apprentice] class. When Aegon reached its highest level, he had received fragments of memory, scattered pieces of knowledge, among which were methods, not only for drawing runes from inanimate elements: stone, air, fire, water, but also from the characteristics of life itself.
He remembered the knowledge that had poured into him then. A hawk's eye, sharp and unblinking, holding the potential for a rune tied to vision. A dog's nose, sensitive to scents, suggesting a rune of smell. A bat's ear, catching the faintest echo in the dark, pointed toward a rune of sound. And many others besides.
The principle was simple: when magic bonded with living tissue, it often produced extraordinary properties. Such properties were usually tied to the creature's natural traits. By studying these changes, one could deduce runes that reflected these new abilities.
He tapped his fingers against the desk. Magical mutations. That is what he called them.
Aegon wanted to try, but the knowledge he got warned him otherwise. Failures would be many. Most of the time, magic would not bond. Even with his strong spirituality, there was no guarantee he could induce such changes. Life itself resisted magic's attempt to twist it. Artificially forcing the bond was difficult, near impossible.
When he first received the memories, another thought had taken root. Perhaps the Valyrians themselves had used such methods. Perhaps their bond with dragons, their fire-touched blood, had not been natural at all, but born from experiments with flesh and magic.
To think his own line might be the product of such designs. The idea was unsettling…and yet it fascinated him.
Still, he shook his head. He would not walk that path here. Even with the secrecy of the Black Vault, he dared not risk it. If discovered, the price would be his ruin.
He set that parchment aside.
His hand moved to the third.
Meditation Method for Common Use.
This thought had been with him longer. His own growth came through classes, traits, spirituality, and the Magic Sea. But what of ordinary men? They could not see magic, could not touch it, could not imagine what he did daily.
If he could craft a meditation method, repeatable, steady, opening even a crack of possibility for common folk to possess magic, it could change the world.And by consequence, the total amount of experience he had.
Of course he would not be dumb enough to just create it and present it to everyone. But making such a meditation method would not be easy either.
It would demand human trials. Controlled practice. Correction over time. Things he could not attempt here.
He placed that parchment aside as well. Later. After I claim the Ironblood Knight class.
That left the first. And the most urgent. Something he currently lacks.
Prototype Healing Spell
The parchment was mostly bare, save for a few neat notes. At its center, one rune was drawn: [Blood Rune].
Although blood was a biological matter and it would have taken him multiple attempts to artificially induce its bond with magic, he did not need to do so. He already had magic-bonded blood…his own. And thus came the [Blood Rune].
The [Blood Rune] was the heart of this project. Its function was clear…the ability to manipulate blood. If there was to be a healing spell, blood would be its foundation. And also because he had no other runes that could serve in its place. It was his only starting point.
But [Blood Rune] alone was not enough. Two more runes were needed.
His gaze shifted to the corner of the desk. There, in a small glass container, lay a thin measure of water. It glimmered faintly, not with light but with something deeper: the residue of magic still clinging to it. This was the same water from which he had first drawn the [Water Rune].
He leaned back, folding his arms, thoughtful. Perhaps water holds the answer.
So he set to work.
For hours he moved between parchment and jar. His quill scratched across the page, tracing runic chains, testing possibilities. His eyes lifted often to the glimmer of water, following the threads of magic with his spiritual sight.
The air in the chamber grew colder as the morning slipped into noon, but he hardly noticed.
Again and again he rose, lifted the jar, and followed the flow of bonded magic with care. He traced its lines, compared its shapes, searching for patterns.
He would not stop until he found a way forward.