' A Word of Power ' Part II

POV: The Boy Fixated on Math.

In an abandoned temple near Riverrunn.

Five seconds after a new marketplace opened in a man's eyes...

A cup of the lowest blood is worth = 1 moon.

I assure you that in the temple of the House of Black and White, they do not waste a single drop of anybody they receive in tribute.

Do you remember the previous story, Lord Stark? The cup of blood, the song, and the jewel?" Ned nodded.

"The Night sacrificed three cups of blood to be able to use the 12th spell. That meant that one cup of his divine blood would be enough for an 11th spell...

The cup of the chalice measures exactly the volume of two jewels. The jewel made of Frozen Fire produced by the Dragon God himself weighs exactly twice the weight of the blood.

I know this because each Mana Stone has the same size, which is the same as the Star Jewel, and it takes exactly one cup of the blood of the relevant level to create the Mana Stone.

When The King in Yellow arrives in Winterfell, Lord Stark, and you negotiate with him in person... You will have a most powerful medium of exchange in your hand to gain his favor and alliance. And it will be crucial, my Lord. He will even be able to help us protect the Moat Cailin with defensive spells. The only weakness of that manor is magic.

We must forge a relationship with that arcanist at all costs." I explained.

"What means of exchange? What do I have to offer the sorcerer?

I don't give a damn about the 81 moons, I won't sell him my blood." Said Ned Stark putting a period to his tone.

"You shall have Blood, Glass, and a very, very special number, my Lord.

I don't know if it was done to throw off the enemy or if the information was lost, but... The number 3 on which Carcosa bases the model of circles and spheres is wrong.

Any spell above 3 for more than 3,000 years has become very risky for those who do not have at least rare blood in their veins.

The ratio of Dragon Glass to Blood is in itself wrong. And the fact is that they base all proportions on a partially wrong number, my Lord...

I know that number. It was in everyone's eyes until recently... I believe that someone has put his hand, and modified ancient texts, and destroyed others... Math doesn't lie, my Lord." I explained confidently.

"What do you mean? What number?" Ned.

"On the texts I read, there was specified that Night bled profusely when he wounded his arm to get the blood. And there, there was also specified information, which read:

[A drop of blood dripped from the wound for each day spent reciting the three curses.].

The times quoted were the same, as Azor Ahai's to forge Bringer of Light.

10 days the first attempt, 50 the second, and 100 the third...

But the information is certainly wrong... the exact days are:

1 day the first, 40 the second, and 100 the third, which added up to 141. Another 141 drops of blood were used for that spell.

The measurement of the radius of the circles of the spell and the amounts of Dragon Glass and blood are based on 3... but the real number is 3.141. Still an imprecise number, but the most you can get with the current measuring tools in Westeros.

If you show that number to the King in the Yellow, he might even kneel before you and call you 'Master Stark'. "

End POV.

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POV Ned.

In an abandoned temple less than two miles from Riverrun.

After three seconds a gentleman was called 'Master Stark'...

Ned never ceased to be amazed the more he was surprised after every word from that boy.

"... How certain are you of this, Lord Duncan?" Ned.

"Quite certain, my Lord. When I explained the theory of that number to Ser Qyburn it took more than a week to convince him to stop calling me 'Archmaester Lord Duncan '...

But let's not discuss that benefit now.

Let's get back to talking about treasures.

Do you know where the greatest treasures in Westeros are currently located, excluding Oldtown, for now, my Lord? " I asked.

"Casterly Rock, Highgarden, or your manor?" Ned.

"... No, unfortunately, I assure you that even the Tallhart family has its fair share of expenses at the moment. The greatest treasure is to be found in the North and at Dragon Rock, my Lord...

Do you know why after the Andala War, at least one heart tree was left in every great fortress in the South?.... It's not because of religion, Ned.

Each of those trees contains blood of at least [semi-pure] grade.... The current value of that blood is 56 golden dragons a and 21 silver moons a cup. And every three months, in some sixty castles in Westeros it is regularly milked without the knowledge of all the lords. A fortune for someone who knows, and a theft for someone else who doesn't. Information is power, my Lord...

House Stark's most lucrative treasure is right in God's Wood, Ned.

House Stark's tree is one of the oldest in all the North. Only one scale down from the main one present Isle of Faces. The God's Trees of at least 12 lords of the North is of rank [Purest]... The one of House Stark is of rank [King].

You could easily collect a cup of tree sap every Moon without damaging it.... About 19,500 gold dragons every month, Ned.

The blood of the Northern People is richer in magic than the South here. If, for example, in the South the average of the People was between rank [Dirty] and [Common], in the North it would be [Uncommon], at the very least... In the North beyond the barrier, the average would certainly be on the [Rare] rank. Wildlings have been intermarrying for thousands of years. They have more magical blood than the entire North put together....

And north of here, there are many magical creatures and trees." Duncan.

Ned was interjected and shocked for a moment after discovering those numbers.... Then the man immediately asked:

"But if that were true, why don't slavers, pirates and ingredient hunters attack the Wildlings people or the North. Such treasure would appeal to anyone." Ned.

"Good question Ned. The South or foreigners, has never laid a finger on a single drop of magical blood from the North for a very specific reason. The Archdruid and other Druid circles have protected the children of the forest, the giants and the first men with a powerful curse.

Currently only two dynasties of kings can grant permission.... From the lands of House Reed to the pasting, only House Stark, and north of here, only descendant members of the dynasty of Joramun...

A gift bestowed upon the King Beyond The Wall long ago, when he helped repel the forces of the Night King...

If someone, were to use a single drop of the tree-digit in your land Ned, without your express permission, would be cursed by three horrible curses. One that deprives the unfortunate of love, one of beauty and another of magic...

Any being who were to use magic, or even profit from it would be afflicted....

Another treasure also has the same protection, unbeknownst to many, even their own owners.

Ned. One of the greatest treasures in history since the disaster of Valyria, lies just a few hundred yards from the castle of a lord who thinks he has punished him by giving him barren land...

Dragon Rock." Duncan.

"Lord Stannis? What treasure do you speak of?" Ned.

"Dragon Glass. Not a few stones of it, Ned, but a whole mountain. Perhaps--and I would not exaggerate in my supposition--only The Iron Bank could dispose of a sum sufficient to purchase every last ounce of it.

An ancient treasure, Ned. Over 8,000 years old. From the records I was able to find, at least 9 dragons the size of Balerion 'The Black Terror', a hundred or so smaller Ancient or adult dragons, and 3 semi-Wyrm Dragons. Beasts of a higher and more dangerous rank than Balerion, they breathed fire for exactly 141 days and nights in a row.

That was one of Valyria's contributions to fighting the Long Night. And currently... the magical right of ownership of the Isle still belongs to the Targaryen dynasty. Only Aegon Sixth of his name can grant that right at the moment. " Duncan.

"No one knows for certain if Rhaegar's son is alive, and even if he is, no one knows where he is at the moment.

As for Joramun, he lived more than 7,000 years ago. Wildlings do not follow birthright, only force. If there were descendants I doubt very much that they would be aware of it." Ned.

"Trust me, Lord Stark. I think I have a good if not excellent chance of finding these two individuals in the future." Duncan.

"... Do you... You know where Rhaegar's sons are?!" Ned was shocked for forty-sixth time in a row in the last week by the same individual.

"Yes, I know where they are hiding. It is not yet time to disturb their enforced exile. The two children live in peace and harmony with their mother.

I would not mention this to King Robert if I were you, Lord Stark." Duncan looked seriously at the man in front of him.

"... Do you want to start a war against Robert for the crown?" Ned.

"Absolutely not. Robert is the North's lifeline at the moment, Lord Stark. The longer Robert sits on that throne, the more time we'll have to strengthen ourselves to face the North's true enemies." Duncan.

"... You will add to the list, House Baratheon and House Lannister to those enemies, Lord Duncan, should you ever openly choose to support the Targaryens in the future." Ned.

"My lord? Do you believe that?" Duncan.

"It's nothing to be convinced of, it's a certainty. Lord Tywin would never allow the Targaryens to return, it would be open warfare that would drag the whole continent into chaos again." Ned.

"... I would say the time has finally come to conclude the story of our young hero Podrick." Duncan.

"This is no time for fairy tales, Lord Duncan. I am speaking seriously. Now answer me.

Do you intend to drag the North into a war for the throne?" Ned.

"Not for the throne, but the world, Ned.

You can only begin to understand after I finish this tale." Duncan.

Ned looked closely at his counterpart's face. As always, he could find no trace of a lie in his voice or any expression.

After a few more seconds, the man again armed himself with much patience and said:

"Continue your story, Lord Duncan." Ned.

"[Young Podrick, having defeated and spared his master, fled the city, giving up the last text. Although the boy knew that with that act of weakness he had probably condemned thousands, if not millions of people to a horrible fate, he did not regret his choice.

At least, the only text of the Runes and Dragon Glass had been destroyed. He set off as quickly as he could toward the north.

A few hours after the squire left the city, Lord Hightower learned of the very serious loss he had just suffered. Through interrogation and magical means, the protector of the city found the person responsible. He immediately sent out search parties to capture the fugitive.

Podrick, with means of misdirection, disguises, and various tricks managed to distance himself from the enemy.

When Lord Hightower, the most powerful sorcerer of the kingdom, discovered that all common means had failed, he used magic. He, sacrificing a drop of divine blood, chanted.

"I curse you Podryck of House Lann.

As long as House Hightower lives, you and your lineage will be deprived of three gifts. One gift for every treasure you have taken from me.

As long as the Citadel lives, every member of your House will forget your name.

As long as the creed of seven exists, at least one descendant of yours per generation beauty will ever find.

And as long as House Hightower lives, at least one member of House Lann the magic will never find."

After weeks of fruitless searching. Lord Hightower's fury fell upon House Lann. A House that had long ago disowned the boy and forgotten the existence of their young member.

All members of House Lann were slaughtered.

Because the boy was the last of the Lann, Podrick began to turn into a deformed beast, and what little magic he had left dissipated.

Removed from everyone, the hero who had saved the world from all-out war holed up in a cave. A cave at the top of a cliff, remaining completely alone and abandoned by the world.

But on the other side of the world, another monster rode in his favor. Riding for pleasure, terror, and love.

Three Guardians were made aware of the actions of the young hero. A hero who snatched three weapons of mass destruction from the hands of the Andals.

When Lord Hightower's men found the hiding place of their prey, they besieged the cave at the top of the mountain.

But the first help came in the boy's favor. An enchanted golden cloak instantly tore through dozens of enemies, killing on the spot all those who dared try to harm the hero.

The Guardian of Magic, Lo Tho, a God-Emperor of the Golden Empire of Yi Ti, came to Podryck's aid.

And he sang:

"Young Lann, the witticisms of your deeds have reached as far as Carcosa.

You, Lann 'The Cunning', have protected the secrets of my dynasty.

And Carcosa shall henceforth protect yours.

I give you a song, Podrick.

As long as Carcosa stands, three of your descendants will exist to remember your name." The sorcerer left the enchanted golden cloak of his robes, still stained with crimson blood, to guard the hero, and took his leave.

The second aid from the Guardian of Beauty came.

The Archdruid decreed:

"Podrick of House Lann, you and your courage have saved all that I consider beauty.

I give you beauty, Podrick. As long as a child of the forest exists, two of your descendants will always know beauty.

The druid slammed his staff into the ground and gold mines erupted from the earth. The young man's appearance returned to normal and the golden cloak took the form of a lion. Then the second visitor took his leave.

A third visitor arrived...

The daughter of the Guardian of Love. A princess of a noble Valyrian dynasty. And she said:

"Squire Podrick, your messiah has come to our House bringing back the secrets of our steel.

For to three Dragons, your love has saved. Three gifts shall be bestowed upon you.

As long as my dynasty exists,

A legendary sword to defend your name will be there.

A word of power your lineage from here on out shall bear.

And at least one member who feels love it will have."

No sooner had the princess finished speaking. A shining sword was left at the squire's feet.

A word of power was spoken investing the squire with a power other than magic power of the dynasty of Kings was bestowed.

A princess went in marriage to a new young king, a king who had just found love again].

History has forgotten the name Podrick and the House of Lann.

But I assure you, at least three of his descendants exist today, and they all remember the name of their founder...

{ Lann the Cleaver. }

A very famous Valyrian ancestral sword that the dynasty lost, but still exists somewhere...

{ BrightRoar. }

His stronghold stands on a mountain filled with gold mines.

Whose motto reads the words:

{ Hear Me Roar. }

And the name of Power of the Dynasty of Kings is:

{ Lannister. } "