Year 280, AC 18th day of the 8th moon.
Almost a year has passed since the arrival of Lady Myra. The white raven from the citadel, signalling the beginning of winter, arrived three days after her coming.
After being harassed (gods only know why) by my new mother for three months straight with: hugs, kisses, caresses, fairy tales, sweets, pinches on the cheeks and other hugs accompanied by waves of tears, she finally managed to distance herself a little.
Lady Myra announced the news of her pregnancy to the whole family in the 4th month. My father threw a big party for all the residents of the castle, sparing no expense. I, as a good 'future big brother', to the joy and laughter of everyone, put on a little show about how I would defeat any bad guys who dared threaten the safety of my little brothers or sisters.
In the last few months I finally got an overview of my active skills.
According to the contract I should be able to see the 'level' of anyone within 9 metres of me and be able to use a trick among the spells of the 'Druid' class.
I only managed to see him between my uncles and my father that day in Gods wood, and I couldn't do any magic...believe me I tried for a whole night doing all kinds of poses and shouting all kinds of nonsense words like an idiot. I thought about it for a moment and decided to go back to Gods Wood alone.
It wasn't easy, I had yet to turn 3, I was watched constantly.
In the end, praising my 'mother' for her beauty, generosity and nobility of spirit for a whole week, I managed to get permission.
Of course it was still the middle of winter. I was bundled up in four different layers of leather and wool and could hardly move. I had to ask my father's faithful captain of the guard Tom to pick me up and take me to Gods Wood.
Facing the majestic Tree Heart with a carved face, I began to close my eyes and breathe slowly.
The strange calming energy began to flow through me. I inhaled and exhaled for minutes on end. Nothing seemed to change... when I noticed I had a small, unnatural impulse. I wanted to touch the tree, I was attracted to it, but the closer I brought my hand, the more an instinct of danger grew.
Alas, curiosity kills the man...
I touched the tree and a wave of information swept over me.
Design, testing of boats and ships, types of crops and knowledge of all the trees known to man...and so much more information.
The speed at which it was flowing was worrying, my head was beginning to boil from the overload, and at the limit of pain I abruptly broke the connection.
My head was aching like hell, I felt rivulets of blood coming out of my nose and ears. Now it was clear...
My mind couldn't assimilate all that knowledge yet! Looking back, I still couldn't remember all the information I learned from Seraphinus!!!
I didn't notice it at first because the information left behind was gargantuan anyway.
'You idiot you could have blown your head off!' I scolded myself.
'I still have a child's body with undeveloped organs, it's normal that I can't remember everything. I guess that's also why I can't use magic yet! Damn it Duncan this isn't a game where you have an indestructible virtual body! You're made of flesh, bone and blood!...how did I not think of that.' I was disappointed in myself, hurt and bitter.
I cleaned the blood as much as I could through mossy leaves and snow.
'If my father or Lady Myra saw a single drop they would lock me in a padded room with twenty men standing guard outside the door until I came of age.' I thought terrified.
I walked out of the small forest and just outside the entrance was Captain Tom waiting for me. I noticed him immediately, clear as day. The number 7 was floating above his head!
'After all the risk and pain, I've gained something,' I thought excitedly.
It took me a few days to get used to it. Now I was able to switch the ability on and off at any time.
I analysed almost every person in the castle and got more or less an idea by asking around and being told about 'life experiences'.
In a situation of neutral ground and equal weapons and equipment:
Level 0 = Zero fighting ability. The person has neither the ability nor the will to defend themselves.
Level 1 = Peasant who takes up a weapon for the first time and fights.
Level 2 = Peasant who has been trained superficially for a month with little resources.
Level 3= Soldier without experience, trained for 3 months but with poor results.
Level 4= Soldier trained with a decent talent in a weapon type who has faced danger at least once.
Level 5= Soldier trained for at least 3 years, with high means and resources, who has faced danger several times.
Level 6= Knight errant who lives selling his sword with many battle experiences.
Level 7= Knight with years of hard training and fighting with high talent in different types of weapons.
Liv 8= Fighter who has lived between life and death several times and shows a natural talent in martial combat and survival tactics.
Liv 9= I have no idea yet and don't want to find out.
Liv 10 = I hope to never face him in battle, in fact I hope to make an ally out of him.
Most of the castle's militia were level 4.
Oddly enough, the blacksmith Will in my father's service was level 7! Take note: [Never piss off that nice man Will].
'This skill will be very useful to me in the future,' I thought happily.
In the last period I convinced my father [level 6] that I wanted to 'learn to read'. He was reluctant at first, telling me that it was still early days and that I should think about playing and having fun. He gave in after a few 'strategic' sad faces and sweet words.
I took lessons with Maester Golbarth [level 0] to start learning to read and write. For three whole months I had to simulate mistakes here and there and to have some of the notions I had already learned repeated several times. Despite my precautions, Golbarth informed my father that I had a unique talent for learning and that my future at the citadel would be stellar.
After closer relations with the maester, he managed to slip in (with a few 'childish' questions late in the evening) some information about his past that he would not normally share. Galborth Hill was his real name, he is a bastard of a cousin of Tytos Lannister (Tywin's father). I marked in my mind a red card on the maester that read [Warning, possible spy for Tywin Lannister].
When I wanted to confirm some suspicions, I waited for a window of opportunity to inspect the maester's office. After all, I was still strong in my 'I'm only a child and I don't know what I'm doing' armour. Maester Golbarth came out of his office to give his usual monthly report to my father on the general situation in the Tallhart lands. I already knew where to go to check; Golbarth, by now used to my presence in his rooms, let his guard down last week.
I climbed into my chair to reach the drawer of his desk and found it. An imperceptible double bottom opened by pressing in a lever point. There were two rolls. I quickly opened the unsealed documents and scrutinised two reports. Both reported in detail everything that had happened in the last month in the Tallhart lands.
'The bastard also reported my success in my studies and that I had a "dangerously sharp mind"!!!' I thought angrily.
'Ohoh maester you don't know how right you are!'
I searched to the end for any possible clue to the two recipients, and found them.
On one more detailed and precise report, Golbarth had written the word 'Archmaestro'. On the other report, although it did not mention anyone, I sensed a less formal and more familiar language.
'The citadel and the Lannisters...' I clenched my small fist tightly.
'Golbarth is a bloody triple agent! Lady Barbrey Dustin was right. Probably almost all masters are lousy grey rats.' I thought as I analysed the situation.
'The Lannisters are not yet a threat and I feel quite confident about the future. Tywin is cunning, rich and ruthless and certainly not to be underestimated but he is also an intelligent, reasonable and fairly predictable person. He is not someone who would seek unnecessary conflict that he is not sure he can prevail in.
Cercei is literally the malignant tumour of the household and the kingdom. A woman who has succeeded in almost every move, who thought she was the most cunning, to weaken the Lannisters. For goodness sake, I don't doubt that blowing up the Temple of Baelor was a good move, but she created all that mess!
She practically put a loaded gun in the High Sparrow's hand, drew a target on her chest, and screamed "Shoot if you dare! A lion can't be hurt by a bullet!"...No doubt about it, she must have missed every lesson in which Tywin explained the importance of prevention rather than cure.' I reasoned, analysing all the information I had about it.
'But the citadel...if my assumptions are correct, it is among the most dangerous.'
'They pretend to be weak and helpless with no power in their hands, but they are not.'
'They can lend their 'wise counsel' to the most powerful men on the continent.'
'They are almost certainly the main cause of the future downfall of the Targaryens, trying to prevent the return of magic by any means and guarding its secrets...but most of all they have direct control over who and how should be instructed and cared for!' I thought furiously.
'It is almost certainly the citadel that is the reason research and progress are and will remain so stagnant in Westeros!'
'An invisible, odourless poison that consumes you and leads you gently into a cognitive coma is certainly among the most dangerous...'
I put everything back in order and returned to my reading 'The Dance of Dragons'.
'It is not yet time to act...a war must be won before it is fought.' I repeated to myself, calming myself with a deep breath.