Chapter 768: Celestial Anomalies

Two months later, King's Landing.

A white raven from Oldtown brought a message.

The white ravens of Oldtown are not usually let out, only when the seasons change would they send word.

However this time, the Oldtown white raven did not bring news of a seasonal change. Instead, the letter was full of confusion.

Because this time the celestial bodies had changed, but the maesters who remained in Oldtown could not determine the change of seasons.

The astronomers and maesters determine the changing of seasons through the discipline of astrology - the length of days and nights with the sun, the phases and position of the moon, and the twelve constellations in the sky.

But now, recently, the celestial patterns across the whole world had undergone an earth-shattering change. They had overturned the laws recorded in astrology.

For example, it should currently be in the long summer stage, with long days and short nights. However, the day and night cycles were now in disarray. The constellations had shifted from their orbits, and the phases of the moon had also become irregular.

"What is going on?"

In Grand Maester Marwyn's room, an enormously large white raven was perched by the window. The bald, bull-necked Marwyn sat in his room, somewhat puzzled as he read the letter sent by Archmaester Vinegar.

This kind of celestial anomaly was truly the first time it had happened since records began, because to the Citadel, the celestial patterns represented the laws governing the workings of the entire world - they were the ultimate code to unraveling the mysteries of the world.

The rules of astrology would absolutely never make mistakes. In the several thousand years since humans began recording things in writing, there had never been problems before. So this really was unprecedented in history.

Not just Archmaester Vinegar in his bronze ring, rod and mask, even Grand Maester Marwyn, the current Grand Maester, was just as puzzled.

And on his desk was also placed an ancient tome, along with a mess of draft notes around it.

In his spare time apart from his duties as Grand Maester, Marwyn would study and try to decipher the vague text in this ancient book.

It was brought back from the ruins of Valyria by Viserys, who said it had been in the hands of a Valyrian nobleman. Even the five dragon eggs later were stolen from this nobleman's home. However, the owner had gone mad, turning into a monster - no longer human.

Marwyn had spent years trying to decipher this important book, consuming tremendous effort. Yet he had also broadened his horizons from it, unlocking many of the mysteries still puzzling the academic community about the Freehold of Valyria.

But now Marwyn could spare no more thought to continuing decoding the blurry text in this ancient tome.

His brows were locked tight as he raised his head to gaze out at the view from the Archmaester's Tower, the sunny and verdant trees outside the window, birds chirping and flitting about the branches.

"It seems I was overthinking things."

Marwyn couldn't help a wry laugh, shaking his head as he muttered to himself.

"But I'll still need to report this to His Grace."

The stocky bull-like maester then stood up, letter in hand from the Citadel at Oldtown, preparing to go find Viserys.

...

On the other hand, at that moment in the Red Keep a farewell banquet was being held, with King Viserys' squire Robb Stark as the main guest of honor.

He had served and studied under Viserys for a few years and was now grown into a man, it was time for him to return home and assume his role as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.

Currently acting Warden of the North was still the late Lord Stark's old bannerman, Lord Rickard Karstark of Karhold.

Robb was full of excitement for his prospects ahead. After spending a few years in King's Landing, he had learned much about the political scheming and backstabbing of the capital's nobles. Robb felt that he had graduated.

Who still dared say the Starks did not belong in the south?

Before this, Robb had even looked forward to the day he would return to King's Landing. He was not satisfied with merely being Warden of the North and Lord of Winterfell.

Because in Robb's eyes, this was his birthright, for generations House Stark had ruled the North, and he as firstborn son, everything his father possessed would naturally be passed on to him eventually.

Thus, there was no difficulty in obtaining something destined for him anyway, so naturally he would not cherish it as much. Robb wanted to rely on his own ability to strive upwards. He hoped that one day in the future, he could return to King's Landing again as Hand of the King.

However, before leaving King's Landing, there was one person that made him reluctant to part, even haunting his dreams - Miss Margaery of House Tyrell in Highgarden.

Ever since catching a glimpse of her a few years ago, this coarse northern boy Robb had fallen deeply in love with this elegant and graceful southern girl, Margaery Tyrell.

Margaery had an exquisitely beautiful face, luscious brown curls, large soft doe eyes, and a slender but shapely figure.

Most importantly, Margaery was exceptionally smart and witty. Having been educated since young by her grandmother Lady Olenna Redwyne, although Margaery had only just come of age like Robb, she could already navigate adeptly among the circles of King's Landing nobility, while Robb seemed like a clumsy, shy bear beside her.

Margaery had utterly infatuated Robb.

However Sansa, also a beautiful girl herself, saw everything. Women understood women best, especially beautiful women amongst each other.

Sansa couldn't help reminding her brother not to let Margaery lead him by the nose, he should keep the initiative in his hands.

Yet Sansa's words went in one ear and out the other for Robb.

At the farewell banquet Robb drank himself red in the face. His good friend Theon Greyjoy drank along with him.

There were no important guests at the banquet, just some friends Robb had made these years in King's Landing, many still half-grown boys.

Viserys did not attend Robb and his little brothers' gathering, and Margaery, the object of Robb's affection, also did not show up.

Perhaps that was why Robb drank a little more than he should have today.

He couldn't understand why after giving his whole heart, she still wasn't moved?

He was the youngest ever Warden of the North, Lord of Winterfell, born of House Stark. Although House Tyrell was also a house of deep lineage, wasn't this how marriages between nobles worked? Who else could have better credentials than him?

Robb had come of age. His mother in Winterfell had mentioned more than once in her letters that upon his return North, he should start considering choosing an excellent northern girl.

However after living so many years in King's Landing and becoming accustomed to seeing all its allurements and charms, perhaps Robb now looked down a little on the girls back home.

Thump -

The auburn-haired youth downed the last cup of wine, then his head spun dizzy.

Next he flung away the cup in his hand and collapsed atop the table fast asleep.