CHAPTER191

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CHAPTER 191

294 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

Aermir sat in his solar at Moat Cailin, his gaze fixed on the map of the North spread before him. His advisors, a mix of skilled engineers and strategic thinkers, had gathered to discuss the progress of his audacious channel project. The trench he had been diligently carving into the earth was no small feat, and its implications extended beyond mere economic gain. Maester Torren Reed cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. 

"My lord, the numbers you've shared about the trench's dimensions and the distance you've covered are astounding."

Aermir nodded, his expression a mix of determination and weariness. 

"Thank you, Maester Torren. But as we all know, the real challenge lies ahead. Connecting the Sunset Sea and The Bite using the Fever River is no small task."

Artos Snow leaned forward; his brows furrowed in contemplation. 

"The terrain around the Fever River's source poses a unique challenge. The need to circumvent the mountain and create a suitable meeting point for the river is both intricate and daunting."

Aermir drummed his fingers on the table, his mind already racing with potential solutions. 

"I've been studying the lay of the land, and it seems we'll need to a fork where the slope is gentler. If not, the ships can't travel against a powerful current. Creating a gradual descent towards the trench will require extensive excavation."

Artos Snow asked,

"Wouldn't this lower the water level of The Fever?"

Aermir nodded agreeably,

"It would, but it will still be around 4-5 meters deep in the shallow points, and the lands around the channel are marshlands, so diverting some of the water wouldn't hurt agriculture either."

Advisor Eddard Snow chimed in, his expression thoughtful. 

"Shouldn't we use some workforce too? My lord, are you going to dig it all the way around by yourself as the Druid?"

"No, we are going to use around a few thousand men to dig from the side of The Bite. Of course, at best, they would be able to dig around 40-50 km in 3-4 years, and in that time, I would be able to finish the rest of it."

" But such excavation would require not only labor but also a steady influx of resources, my lord."

Aermir sighed, fully aware of the challenges that lay ahead. 

"Yes, Eddard, you're right. It's a massive undertaking that demands a significant investment of both time and resources. But the potential benefits for the North are immense, and most of the project would be done by me. So, we only had to provide resources for the few thousand workers."

Maester Torren leaned forward, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. 

"And what about the time frame, my lord? You mentioned the estimate of 3 to 4 more years for completion. Are you still confident in this projection?"

"As I continued honing my earth magic, my proficiency steadily improved. Additionally, assistance from my earth elemental enabled me to dig at an even swifter pace. When we incorporate the laborers working from the other side, I anticipate that this project could be successfully completed within a span of 3 years."

Maester Torren perused the papers before him and then suggested, 

"My lord, might it be more prudent if we abstained from hiring additional workers? Their presence would only slightly hasten the timeline, at the cost of approximately 1 million gold dragons over the course of those 3 years."

His suggestion made sense to everyone in the room other than Aermir. The expenses associated with providing accommodations, wages, sustenance, and various other necessities for the workers would indeed amount to a substantial sum. However, Aermir shook his head, expressing his contrary view. 

 "The investment is warranted. The value of my time far outweighs the expenditure of 1 million gold dragons. During that year, I could dedicate myself to my arcane studies or utilize my time more productively than simply excavating a massive ditch."

...

Aermir had dedicated himself to this monumental project, tirelessly digging a massive trench day after day. The dimensions of his latest accomplishment - a 6-meter-deep and 20-meter-wide trench spanning 200 meters - marked another step towards his grand plan. This tireless work had been ongoing for nearly a year now, resulting in an impressive trench extending for a staggering 90 kilometers. However, the burden of keeping the Night King's curse in check limited his progress; He had to use 100 mana to keep the curse at bay. Had he not been constrained by the curse, he estimated he could have dug 20 to 30 kilometers more in that time.

The outcome of his toil promised not only personal gain but would limit the earnings of every other kingdom while enriching the North. Once completed, the channel would usher a torrent of income, though a significant portion would also find its way into the temple's coffers since he had to gift this project to Aermir Drasil for his faithful service to the Old Gods as Druid Emrys. 

...

Stepping away from his usual routine, Aermir embarked on a journey to Winterfell. It had been a while since he had visited the place where he had spent his childhood and formed great bonds with the Stark children. His typical daily schedule of training, spell experiments in the training space, and lordly duties were momentarily set aside since he had to go to Winterfell for Rickon's 8th name-day feast. 

In Westeros, typically, only the name days of paramounts and the King were celebrated. Of course, the paramounts name day celebrations were a regional thing, with the reigning King's name day designated as a formal holiday. The realm did not boast a plethora of holidays due to the challenging conditions of life. 

Generally, there were just three occasions widely observed by all. The Harvest Festival bore semblance to Thanksgiving, Aegon's Conquest Day paralleled Christmas, and King Robert's Name Day was another noteworthy event. There existed some religious holidays, such as Maiden's Day, adhering to the Faith of the Seven, but these held little significance for Aermir and the North.

As he traveled the familiar path that led to Winterfell, memories of his younger days flooded his mind. The laughter and camaraderie he had shared with Jon, Robb, and the rest of the Stark siblings felt like a distant but cherished dream. Aermir's heart swelled with anticipation as he looked forward to reuniting with them.

Naturally, he had encountered them in the guise of Druid Emrys. However, when donning that persona, he was required to maintain a stern demeanor and couldn't readily exhibit friendship. He yearned for the times when he could grapple Robb and Jon to the ground or play with wild wolves named Arya and Bran. 

As for Rickon, a puzzling dynamic existed. For some inexplicable reason, Rickon always seemed apprehensive in his presence. It was as if Aermir inadvertently frightened the child; he consistently attempted to establish an amicable rapport with Rickon. Yet, over the past three years, an increasing rift had formed between them.