Celestial Hymn 40 (Patreon)

Celestial Hymn

Chapter 40

-VB-

Robb Stark

Lord Alan Marris. A former carpenter and sculptor turned lord and magician. One of the richest man in all of Westeros and perhaps soon to become one of the most influential as well once this Great Council came to be.

Robb envied Lord Renly. If Robb had a vassal even half as capable as Lord Marris, then the North would not be in the current situation as it was. His father would not be dead, the North would be prosperous, and the only thing he would need to worry about was to find a good wife.

At the same time…

“What is it like to be a magician?” he asked. His curiosity just could not hold him back on asking that question. He’s heard about the magicians, and already saw how magic could upend the doctrines and paradigm everyone had up to that point. That gateway of magic alone shreds what everyone thought about military strategem. What was the point of marching when the enemy could wait for you to get into a perfect position for their attack and then ambush you with soldiers fully rested back at home while theirs are tired after weeks if not months of marching?

Robb could see it already. If he went to war, then he would lose. Worse, he would die having known that the war was a useless endeavor.

“Not much different than any other trade, really,” Lord Marris replied with a shrug and then took a sip of ale.

“Not that different, huh?”

“Well,” he grumbled. “You have to get the materials, refine it, add your own special little something, and then once you are done, you have to grade it if you are the master or have a heart-thumping session of waiting as the master grades it. If you fail, then it’s back to the drawing board, getting funds to get more materials, getting the materials, and so on. You study and pray that you get better. Again, not that different from any other trade.”

When he put it that way, Robb agreed it didn’t sound any different from carpentry.

“Do you not gain more from fighting?” Robb asked.

“I believe my acolyte already answered that question,” he replied. “But ultimately, I just get more time to do what I want instead of what other people want.” He paused, his eyes glazing over for a moment before he shrugged. “Westeros is not somewhere me and my mages can truly thrive. Not really. Too many players wanting too many things without the means to acquire and keep it.”

“Does that apply to the North as well?” he asked, seeing a chance that he might, just might, gain some advantage out of this.

Lord Marris looked at him, unimpressed. He closed his eyes and hummed. “I have no idea about who you are like as a person. Of course, this means that I cannot say much about you and House Stark.” He paused. “However, I have noticed that at the very least that the North is stable and without any major changes, both good and bad. It says a lot about the North.”

“... I see.”

“Perhaps, depending on how this war and the Great Council plays out, I might set up a second Tower here. There’s a lot of room, after all.”

Robb would like that very much. If there was another school of magicians here, then he might be able to get North men in, many of whom would be loyal to the North and not this mage lord.

-VB-

Alan

My musing words meant nothing because I intended to leave as soon as I could. Why the fuck would I care for the North?

The North’s lord, Robb Stark, would take the longest to arrive. Even if he took to the sea for the fastest method of transportation, it would take him weeks if not a full month to reach King’s Landing. If he chose to not brave the waters, then it would take him months to reach King’s Landing.

I needed only six for my ship to be complete.

And I had the most perfect excuse to not help any of the Lord Paramounts from reaching King’s Landing faster.

“Would you help me get to King’s Landing, then?” Robb asked me and I shook my head. He seemed surprised by that. “Why not? Is your goal not peace?”

“Lord Stark, the time it takes for you and other Lord Paramounts to travel is an extension of the current peace,” I drawled. “Why would I give you all an easy ride to King’s Landing just so that you can make a decision that may not work in my favor?”

He grimaced and then glared at me.

“In your favor, huh.”

“I already told you what I wanted, Lord Stark,” I replied. “And I’ll be honest. The North cannot win.”

“... Explain.”

“Let us assume that you are the greatest military tactician and strategist of all time,” I began. “Let us assume that you are capable of defeating armies thrice your size.” I set my hand down. “You will lose still because of three factors: you are surrounded, your allies are nowhere to be seen if you have them, and your straightforward manner of warfare will lose out to the skulldaggery of the South.”

“You underestimate us.”

I shrugged. “I might be, but let me ask you this then. If you drag me into this war, then how long do you think you will last against me?”

“You speak as if you are an army onto yourself, Lord Marris,” Robb spat. “Do not overestimate yourself, milord.”

I laughed. “Lord Stark,” I said as I looked at him in the eyes and lost my smile. “I am an army onto myself. I could burn all of King’s Landing today. I could burn all of the capitals of the Seven Kingdoms today, but I do not because I have no reason to. Drag me into this war, and I will have reason to burn at least three.”