Gavin stepped aside and let Ryan’s blade whistle past.
In the same motion he lunged, a lightning-fast thrust that forced the older man into a desperate parry.
Two quick exchanges later, Gavin’s practice sword knocked Ryan’s weapon from his hand and came to rest lightly against the master-at-arms’ throat.
Gavin smiled.
“You lose, Master Ryan.” Ryan stared for a heartbeat, then threw his head back and laughed.
“Good lad!
The student has surpassed the master.” Gavin lowered his sword and bowed with genuine respect.
“All of it is thanks to your years of teaching, Master Ryan.” Emond walked onto the yard, smiling, eyes bright with approval.
“Gavin, your progress has been remarkable.
I did not misjudge you.” Gavin bowed at once.
“My lord, thank you for your help and guidance all these years.” Emond rested a hand on the boy’s shoulder.
“I have watched you grow with my own eyes.
But remember, a true knight needs more than a sharp blade.
He needs noble character and unshakable belief.” Gavin nodded firmly.
“I understand, my lord.” Emond studied Gavin’s face.
For a moment the resemblance to his dead brother Morton was so strong that it stole his breath—same features, only the hair color different.
It was as if Morton stood before him again.
Emond gathered himself.
“With your ability, I could send you as a squire to House Tyrell or House Redwyne.
You would earn your knighthood in time.
I recommend the Tyrells.
It would serve your future well.
What do you think?” Gavin lowered his head, expression conflicted.
“My lord, I am grateful.
But I wish to study at the Citadel for a time first.
I ask that you hold off on any decision about squiring until then.” Emond looked genuinely surprised.
“The Citadel?
Child, maesters give up their family names and cannot chase glory.” “My thirst for knowledge is as great as my desire for glory, my lord.
And I do not have to swear the vows to study there.” Emond regarded him for a long moment, then nodded.
“If you are certain, I will write you a letter of recommendation.” Gavin bowed deeply.
“Thank you, my lord.” Emond hesitated, then spoke more quietly.
“I am sorry for your mother’s passing.
Please accept my condolences.
But remember, Gavin—you still have family.
I have always thought of you as my nephew.” Gavin lifted his head.
Tears shone in his eyes.
“Thank you for your kindness, my lord.
My mother would have been happy to hear it.
I have always thought of you as family too.” After saying goodbye to Emond and Ryan, Gavin turned toward the sea.
The mention of his mother had left his heart heavy.
He walked with steady steps, but his mind drifted back through the past eight years.
Elisse’s health had declined steadily, like a lamp slowly burning through its last oil.
The flame of her life had flickered, ready to gutter out at any moment.
Since the day he had woken in this world, she had been his only warmth, his only solid ground.
Her love had been pure and deep—gentle comfort on countless nights, a steady embrace through every setback, quiet care in every small thing.
That love had wrapped around him like spring wind and warm sunlight, giving him peace in a world full of danger and uncertainty.
Watching her waste away on her sickbed had cut him like a thousand blades every single day.
He had cried in silence more nights than he could count, praying to every god he knew to ease her suffering.
Reality had answered with cold iron shackles around his hope.
In the seventh year after they returned to the castle, she passed.
Gavin held a cremation for her according to the old Belaerys ways.
He had stood motionless while the flames roared and consumed everything.
Tears streaked his face as he watched the fire.
For a moment he could see her gentle smile and caring eyes again.
Memories rose like a tide.
When the flames finally died, her form faded with them.
Gavin’s tears broke free at last, but he knew she had found peace in whatever world lay beyond.
He stood there a long time, saying goodbye in his heart.
Now, outside the castle walls, he looked up at the tall, imposing keep.
Much of the outer stone had been replaced or repaired; the once-mottled walls were clean and solid again.
New scorpions gleamed coldly on the battlements.
Even the roads that had once been rutted and broken were smoothed and leveled.
The domain’s strength had grown sharply in these years, all because of the salt-refining method Gavin had given them.
House Cotoin now possessed steady wealth in gold, and that wealth had made its soldiers stronger and better equipped.
Two years ago the house had answered the king’s call and marched against the Iron Islands.
In that campaign Emond had finally won the glory and riches he had long sought, relying on the power the family had built.
When the war ended, Three Towers returned richer in both coin and standing.
Hand Jon Arryn himself had ruled on the old border dispute with House Hightower, awarding one village to the Cotoins while leaving the other unresolved—deliberately keeping the two houses at odds.
Gavin had quietly noted the Hand’s cunning when he heard the news.
Because of the blow struck against the ironborn, the raids that once terrified the coastal villages had stopped.
In the small port beside the town, three captured longships and a larger sailing ship now sat neatly moored, silent trophies of victory.
Gavin reached the shore and stood looking out at the water, the panel flickering into view behind his eyes.
Host: Gavin Flowers Age: 14 Bloodline: Bloodfire Dragonborn (Development 29%): Valyrian dragonlord bloodline.
Grants dragonriding and flame control.
Initially awakened.
Command: 29 (Your subordinates can be improved through the panel) Skills: High Valyrian: Mastered Flame Control: Mastered Swordsmanship: Master Archery: Mastered Spear: Mastered Energy Points: 2 (Automatically absorbs ambient magic from the surroundings.
Can also be obtained by actively drawing in magic.)