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Celestial Hymn
Chapter 31
-VB-
Time passed.
I used the expected court and street intrigues. A “gift” here and a gift there. My men and women, my acolytes, walking out on the streets with guards but there to hand out soup and bread to the poor. The Gold Cloaks tried but failed to muscle in when faced with magic capable of intimately telling one’s intent.
And then it happened.
Stannis Baratheon came to King’s Landing with his retinue, and the first person he sought out was me.
It was …
The city already knew that I was powerful. I was the betrothed to the only princess of the kingdom. I was the head of the only known magical army in all of the world. I was wealthy, though not as wealthy as the Lions.
But when a royalty like Stannis comes to see me first and not his extended family? Not the crown prince. Not the queen. Not the court. But me?
It signaled to everyone playing the Game of Thrones that I was now a significant player. I was no longer a pawn for others like Renly had tried to make me become but hadn’t expected to see me rise so quickly up the social ladders of the nobility.
So I greeted the man who unwittingly heralded my entrance to the Game of Thrones, and greeted him as warmly as one should for their in-laws.
Because this in-law was about to owe me a huge favor.
“Prince Baratheon!” I greeted the stoic and stiff man with a hug. The man had just walked in with his retinue into my workshop manor/institute, which was where I told him that I had everything ready to help Shireen.
The awkward and standoffish lord stiffened under my sudden friendly assault but let it pass. We were to become family, after all, and was in a private setting as well.
“Lord Marris,” he greeted me with a simple pat before I let him part from me.
I then knelt and looked at the girl who’d come in with him, dressed from head to toe in concealing garment.
“And you must be Shireen,” I spoke softly, gently taking one of her gloved hands in mine and placing a kiss on her knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I claimed with a big grin.
“I-It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Lord Marris,” she shyly greeted me with a hurried curtsy.
I stood back up.
“Yeah, it’s bad.”
Stannis stiffened and looked around; my acolytes walked about, doing whatever it was that they did for their own studies and experiments (study material provided by yours truly).
“Do not worry,” I chuckled before intentionally flexing the barrier around me. The soundproof barrier I’d erected the moment I met them shimmered before visually dissolving back into the background. “It allows sounds in but not out.”
Shireen looked awed, if her body language was to go by. Stannis, on the other hand, looked alarmed. I supposed he had the right to be. Magic was performed within his vicinity without him even noticing.
“But I’m sure you want me to to look at her before I cure her. Come, come!”
I knew that I was being rude and out of order. Prince Stannis was still a prince and deserved the respect his station was owed, but at the same time, he was the one coming to me metaphorically groveling for his daughter’s health and safety. Formalities had been dismissed by both of us independently or was done so when I approached them so physically.
I dropped the barrier and watched as Stannis carefully told his guard retinue to stay before following me with Shireen in tow.
I led them a door that looked like any other door in this manor: a well-maintained but plain wooden door with a handle. When I opened that door and led them in, I saw their wonder.
A simple diagnostics lab will look like wonder to someone from the medieval world. Or look alien. Either or.
I closed the door, locked it, pulled up another soundproof barrier, and then led them to a desk at the corner of the room.
“Please, have a seat,” I gestured and they sat down with me. “First off, I’m going to have to scrap a sample of her scarred skin for me to know exactly what I am dealing with.”
“Scarred?” Stannis frowned.
“Yes, scarred.”
“She is still infected.”
I shook my head. “No. Greyscale is not alive. What we will be doing is ‘fixing’ her appearance.”
He stared at me for a second. “What does that entail?”
“Diagnostics and removal of scar tissue in a manner that won’t disfigure her.”
He nodded hesitantly.
“Good. First off, greyscale is considered infectious and ‘alive’ only when it continues to spread. Otherwise, you can safely say that it is cured, even if the person may be scarred. However, I need a sample of the disease to know whether or not it is a completely mundane disease or one made by magic.”
He froze stiffly.
“Prince Garin’s Curse.” That was the greyscale’s other name.
I nodded. “In this world, magic can come about in many ways. If you take into account that ritual sacrifices are a thing, then allowing even slightly magical person with some authority over his people curse you after having them watch the death of his entire people… sounds kind of dangerous, yes? What if there is a trigger that causes some other illness? We do not know, so I need to check for it.”
Stannis grimaced.
“Is that truly how the greyscale came to be?”
“It is a speculation, but there are no other alternative narrative for its origin.”
“I see. So if it is a magical illness…”
“If it is a magical illness, then I must treat it with magic. If it is mundane, then I can treat it with magic and mundane means. I’ll probably go with magical means anyway because it makes healing and recovery easier. However, I won’t know what I encounter until I have a sample to test it,” I said and then gestured to the glass flasks filled with various clear liquids.
And then I reached out and brought out … three cotton swaps.
“One for the mouth lining, one for the unaffected skin and cut, and the last one for the affected skin and cut.”
Two quick cuts and three swaps later, I dunked them into the liquids.
The first two remained clear; not magic and not bacterial.
The last one turned pink.
Viral.
“Good news!” I said as I turned around. “It’s not magical.”
Stannis let out a sigh of relief.
Shireen fidgetted.
“Okay then, let me see exactly how we will approach this,” I mumbled as I brought out a different staff from my usual and lightly tapped it on her forehead. The staff glowed green, telling me that the disease was no longer in progress. The staff then dimmed to a dim orange.
I frowned.
“It seems that there are some greyscale still within her. Probably inside isolated pockets among the scar tissues as cysts…” I hummed as I pulled back.
Stannis and Shireen both froze.
“Which means very little, actually,” I added with a grin.
I thumped the staff against the ground, and a dimly glowing green ring spread out from me.
Stannis looked ready to attack in surprise but held back. “What is this?”
“Cleansing field: viral mode. It eliminates specific diseases.” Having a lot of time as a noble coupled with magical and mundane knowledge led to a lot of advancements!
For me and my allies, of course.
I tapped Shireen again, and this time, it came back negative.
“Wonderful! We can now get to healing her scar! Please lay down on the table there.”
She did.
“D-Do I have to ake my clothes off?” she asked me.
“No, not really,” I replied. “Since I will be using magic and not mundane means to excise your scar tissues.”
She laid down as ordered.
I stood up and brought the staff down onto the ground before extending my hands.
I grimaced as I let the magic of the staff’s crystal flow through me. The foreign mana felt spiky within me. It didn’t hurt but did make me feel uncomfortable. Compared to what Shireen went through, it’s probably nothing.
I took a deep breath in and forced the mana forward.
Find the soul.
Mana chimed.
Find the body.
Mana chimed.
Find the differences.
Mana… chimed.
Interpose the soul onto the body.
Mana screeched.
Interpose the soul onto the body.
Mana screeched again but after a while chimed.
Execute.
I took deep breaths and sweated as I forced myself to stay still while draining the crystal of its mana. I saw even underneath her clothes how she was changing.
The light died down and I staggered backward. To my surprise, one of my acolytes caught me.
Oh, when did he - she - come in?
Stannis quickly reached Shireen’s side as the girl sat up.
She pulled her hood and scraf down.
Stannis’s eyes grew wet with tears.
“It worked…!”
I looked tiredly at Shireen and saw that the greyscale scars were indeed gone.
“Wooo~...!” I cheered despite my exhaustion. “Sorry, but please come back later. I do not believe I am strong enough to continue for now. We’ll see how she is next… time…” I mumbled as the acolyte bowed in my stead and dragged me out.
As my consciousness drifted away and the door closed, I briefly saw Stannis hugging Shireen.
I didn’t cure her of anything, not really aside from small pockets of surviving greyscale virus, but appearance broke or made someone, and I made Shireen’s future happiness and quality of life, things her father, a prince of the realm, could not give her.
For this and this alone, Stannis was now in my pocket.
I was sure of it.