Dragonstone, AOT World
Year 846
The first thing Annie learns of her new leader is that he rambles when not in the presence of their Lord Commander. Though whether that's because he feels the need to fill her in on everything she's ignorant of, or simply that's just how he is, she doesn't know. All she knows is that he rambles on while those four subordinates of his remain silent, whether they are mute or not she doesn't know.
"He's not human, our lord commander." says Johann, and all Annie can do is give him her deadest stare. "The first time I met him he tried to pass off a human, but you can tell by the way that he moves. No human moves like that, not even Captain Levi."
That is how she spent the last thirty minutes or so, listening to him ramble about the lord commander, the lord commander's siblings, his friends, Captain Levi, and a slew of other things. And all she can do is sit here and attempt to tune him out while internally praying for the commander to come back.
As if someone was listening to her prayer, her new commander enters the chamber with three children in tow.
"Come, the meeting is set to begin soon." he tells them before turning around to leave.
Standing up, Annie follows him and the others out of the room.
"So, Eren, we're about to meet the commanders of the Armed Forces of Paradis, excited?" Johann asks one of the three children.
Eren looks towards Johann with a set of determined eyes and nods.
"Good. Anyway, Eren, meet Annie, the female Titan. Annie, meet Eren, the Attack Titan." says Johann, causing Annie to almost stumble.
"What?" asks Annie. She thought that the Attack Titan was lost long ago, yet the entire time it was on Paradis?
"Right, you guys from Marley thought that it was lost. Man, Kruger really fucked with you guys for years and never got caught. Your intelligence division must have hated his guts." says Johann with a grin that Annie cannot help but find unnerving. "Anyway, nah it wasn't lost, we've had it for years now."
"Excuse me. Sir Johann, what are you talking about?" asks the blond boy next to Eren.
"Not a sir. Sir's are those knights you see running around. As for what I'm talking about? Well, it's a long story that you guys will be filled in later. Like super long with a lot of government conspiracies and stuff." explains Johann
"You are awfully talkative today." their commander tells Johann.
"It's just nice to finally have subordinates that can talk back. I love my four musketeers but it gets boring talking to yourself, y'know." replies Johann.
"It is Three." replies Aemon.
"Pardon?" asks Johann.
"The story. It is The Three Musketeers, not four." he elaborates.
"Commander, I didn't know that human literature interested you." comments Johann.
"I dabble." replies their commander before giving an order. "Now quiet."
As if hearing something from their commander's voice, Johann's demeanor completely shifts. The grin on his face disappears, the lackadaisical attitude is replaced with a soldier's, and his movements become more formal. It is as if someone flipped a switch in his head.
Before Annie can further think on it, she finds herself entering A large round room with four tall windows overlooking north, south, east, and west. Around the room are dragon gargoyles that hold candles in such a way that one could be forgiven for believing them to be breathing fire, and at the center of the room is a massive table, in the shape of what seems like a continent, where around a dozen men and women sit and stand around. Looking at their uniforms Annie easily identifies them as members of the Armed Forces of Eldia.
"So, you're the one who's been secretly helping the Scout's division of my army." says an old man as he approaches Aemon.
He has the typical appearance of a short old man, with sunken and tired looking eyes behind a pair of glasses, wrinkles on his face, and receding and graying hair. Covering his jaw is a full beard that is well groomed.
"Aye, it is the least I can do for the hospitality I have received." says her Lord Commander.
"Don't play coy with me boy. You've given us a lot of help and I refuse to believe that it was just for hospitality." replies the old man. "What do you really want?" he asks.
"What do I want?" questions her new commander with a chuckle that causes the old man and some of the other captains and commanders to frown. "General Darius, you have seen my island, my people, the city in which they live, and the fort that I make my home. What can you or your people possibly give me that I do not already possess?" he asks.
Silence falls over the room as the general seems to consider Aemon's words.
After a moment of contemplation Darius Zackly extends his hand out to Aemon. "Then you have my thanks." says the general.
"You are welcome." says Aemon as he shakes the general's hand.
As he retrieves his hand, Darius carefully regards Aemon. "Of course you understand that since you're now a king we can no longer accept any aid from you for internal matters." he says.
"Naturally." replies Aemon with a nod before turning to Annie and placing a hand on her shoulder. "However," he says as the flames around the room are snuffed out and ice crystals begin to form on every surface. "I must warn you that this little one is now one of my people. Should anything happen to her at the hands of your government or military, then retribution shall swift but certainly not painless." he tells a shivering Darius. "Do we understand one another?" he asks.
"Y-yes." replies Darius through his quaking teeth.
"Good." says Aemon as the cold is replaced by warmth as quickly as it came, and the candles around the room simultaneously ignite.
With a nod to Commander Erwin, Hange, and Levi, Aemon exits The Painted Table Room, the doors slamming shut behind him.
…
…
…
Later in the day, when night has long fallen and the city at the foot of Dragonstone has come alive, Aemon sits within The Painted Table Room, alone and in deep thought twirling a dagger as he looks at the Painted Table. Darius and the other Eldians have left the island for some time now, taking Johann's squad and Reiner and Bertholdt along with them; effectively leaving only the fey and the dragons on the island.
With the island to himself and his subjects, Aemon has decided that it is time for him to start enacting some of his more ambitious plans. With the knowledge provided to him from his first life as a fan of the fantasy genre, along with the many purchasable goods from the Dimensional Chat Group there are many ways in which he can empower not only himself but also his people, his siblings, and even Westeros itself. In addition to the knowledge of every Stark of the past, man or Other, it would be a waste to not take advantage; especially since he knows some of the coming threats and is in no way, shape, or form prepared to face them yet.
The likes of Kronos, Gaia, and Lilith are foes that he is not completely certain of victory should he face them as he is. In addition there are more pressing threats such as Darkseid and the Great Other which he knows for completely beyond his reach currently.
Still, there is no reason to act in haste. There is a natural progression to how he should empower himself, and it would not do to make a decision that would result in him acquiring conflicting and inefficient abilities. As a fey, and one with the blood of the dragon flowing through his veins, the path to power is an obvious one.
"Your Majesty." calls out Hersam, shaking Aemon from his thoughts. "It is ready." he says.
Standing from his seat Aemon sheathes his dagger at his waist and makes his way out of the room.
The walk from The Painted Table Room to his destination, Aegon's Garden, is done in silence. There is no conversation to be had, there is no sound of their footsteps, and not even Aemon's armor makes any noise of any kind.
It does not take them long to arrive, and upon entering the garden Aemon is pleased to find that his instructions have been followed to the letter.
All plants, trees, shrubs, etc…have been uprooted so that only the soil remains, and even that has been prepared as if it were a farm field, the space has been massively expanded with the all decorations and pathways having been removed leaving only the World Travel Gate at the very edge of the field along with a pool of water at the center.
Where before there was a beautiful and expansive garden, now lies a massive, bare, field with only the World Travel Gate at the edge and a pool of water that gleams silver under the moonlight.
"You may leave." commands Aemon.
Bowing, Hersam exits the garden and returns inside where he stands guard along with Grendell and the Royal Guard in order to stop any who may wish to enter.
Being alone now, Aemon begins the ritual.
First he allows his true appearance to show through and his aura to no longer be restrained. Where before descriptions such as beautiful and inhuman would be fitting for his appearance, now anything short of otherworldly would not do him justice, and even then there is much that the word fails to convey. Should anyone see him now as he is, mundane or otherwise, their minds would be enthralled by his mere presence even as they struggle to understand what it is they are seeing.
With the illusion gone, Aemon proceeds to strip himself bare. He removes his armor and the garments under, the glove covering his burnt hand, his ring, his smallclothes, and even the eyepatch covering his left eye, allowing the icy blue eye to perceive the world.
He does not leave the clothes lying about but rather folds them neatly and lays them on the ground, with his pieces of armor lying in an orderly fashion next to them.
After placing the last piece of armor down Aemon steps onto the field and makes his way to the pool, his steps so light and graceful that they leave not a single mark on the soil. Reaching the pool he calmly steps in, making his way into its depths, where the water reaches his chin; and with the water he cleanses himself. A ritual cleansing. It is nothing special, simply cleaning oneself while ordering the mind.
Water disrupts magic, it is why bodies of water tend to be borders to magical realms more often than not. Running water cleanses spells, it is why many legends pertaining to magical creatures such as vampires state that they cannot cross a river. As such it is why it is important for one to cleanse themselves before an important ritual, to clear any residual magic that may interfere. This is also why Aemon allows aura to flow, and his true appearance to show. Usually none of the rituals that Aemon knows would require such preparations, however what he is about to attempt has never been done before and it would be if nothing interfered.
Once he is sufficiently clean, Aemon steps out of the pool and takes out a DCG card from his inventory. The card glows silver and gold in his hand and gives off an aura of holiness with the picture of two bright trees on it, one silver and one gold.
[Well of Light (800 CP)
Such a thing has not been seen since Ungoliant drank the Two Trees dry: A pool of the mingled dews of Telperion and Laurelin; liquid light that shimmers in countless shades of silver and gold, and sheds a holy radiance far beyond where it should reach. These sacred waters have many virtues, of which perhaps the least are their healing properties. To drink but a mouthful from this well of light is to banish all disease and weariness, and to set all wounds on a road to swift and sure healing without any lingering harm or pain.
A plant watered with a few drops of this sacred dew will grow sure and strong and bear fruits or seeds with healing virtues of their own, while a beast allowed to drink will grow wise and strong according to its kind, and sire children with similar strengths. If a sapient being drinks from the Well, they and their children shall have the light of Aman in their face; they will have something of the reflected radiance of the Two Trees, and will be blessed with beauty, longevity and great spiritual strength, though not necessarily with wisdom.
Even simply bathing in their light will help bring healing and respite from mental and spiritual pains, and ensure that disease and decay do not come near, and all but the mightiest of evil things will flee its radiance. The reflected glimmer of the light captured in a Silmaril was enough to empower the Phial of Galadriel, after all, when this is pure from the source.
Beyond these blessed qualities, however, the dews of the well are potent magical substances. It is said that Varda made the very stars from the nectar of the Two Trees - and even if you lack the power of the Valar to shape the world in such a grand fashion, these waters are nothing less than a divine reagent for light, healing and blessing, allowing for creations fit to match those of the Ainur. A blade quenched in these waters would be a bane to all evil things, and a crown anointed with them might impart to the wearer great beauty and radiance, as of the light of Aman. Perhaps one day you might even capture their light anew, and forge new Silmarils - if you have the skill, and can discover a substance fit to contain their light as a body would a spirit.
Your well of light is composed of two outer pools where the gold and silver dews slowly gather, and an inner where they mingle. They are not large, each the size of a medium-sized pond, but will slowly re-fill over time. If entirely emptied, they would refill over the course of a year.]
This is his first step towards empowering himself and his people, three pools which shine with the light of Aman from Tolkien's Legendarium.
The fey and the elves of Tolkien's world are quite similar in nature, both being spiritual creatures whose power resides in the strength of their spirit. And as the elves of the First Age have proven, those who reside within the presence of the light of the two trees are more powerful than those who do not.
Without further hesitation, Aemon tears the card and it disintegrates into motes of gold and silver that burrow into the pool of water, surprising him. He did not think that it would make use of the pool before him, believing that it would create the three pools of water itself. Still, he watches on as the singular pool transforms into three separate pools, with the two outer pools, one silver and one gold, meeting in the third one where they mingle and fill the third one.
As the pools come into being and their light illuminates the entire garden, Aemon feels a sense of relief fill him; as if he has spent his entire life living in a desert drinking naught but cactus juice and for the first time in his life has tasted cold water of the cleanest source. He feels as if his whole life he has unknowingly carried a massive weight and for the first time has been allowed to lay it down. And for a moment he just basks in the feeling, enjoying the sense of peace and relief it gives him for even the pain of Koios' eyes is almost gone.
Eventually he is able to rouse himself from the feeling to focus on the next step.
From his inventory he summons his prize from the first trip to Percy's world, Hera's Golden Apple of Immortality.
"This has never been done before. We do not know what the results will be." says the Other as his spectral form appears besides Aemon. "You will be blending magic from three different worlds, and while theoretically it should all meld together perfectly, magic is volatile and unforeseen consequences happen more often than not."
"Perhaps, but now that we are here I am reasonably confident that the outcome, even if not what we expected, will not be bad." Aemon says, and in truth he is more than reasonably confident.
Now that he can gaze at the Well of Light with his left eye, he can see that no ritual undertaken using these pools will have a negative outcome unless the pools are corrupted. With this knowledge in mind, Aemon continues.
Reaching into the pool where the two waters mingle, Aemon buries the apple into its very depths with only the stem sticking out of the soil and into the pool. The entire process almost takes him longer than he should for the healing and cleansing properties of the water feels like a balm on his soul. Still, he continues on for he is under a time limit.
With the apple planted Aemon takes a deep breath in preparation for what is to come, yet despite that he is certainly not ready for when it happens. With no warning from the spectre, he feels the melding of his spirit with that of his ancestors who are Children of the Forest. Unlike his battle against Messmer, where he channeled all of previous Stark ancestors, now he only channels the Children of the Forest that he is descended from, for they are the earth singers. And as all earth singers are want to do, Aemon begins to sing.
The song begins slowly, the volume of their voice low yet echoing out over the entire island of Dragonstone as if the world holds its breath in order to hear their voice. Soon their voice no longer echoes out over the island but rather rings out instead, and where at first no distinction could be made between Aemon's voice and the voice of the Children, now it is obvious where the Children's voice ends and Aemon's begins for they sing different songs.
The Children sing of the earth, of water, of rain and anything else one might think of when the thought of life comes to mind. It is a song that is low in bass, steady in rhythm, and pleasant to the ears. It calms the spirit and affirms one's conviction, giving one strength and stability in the face of adversity and challenges.
Aemon however sings a song of fire and ice. It is a contradictory song by nature for how can anything be of both. It is a song that inflames passions yet cools them at the same time, a song of violent aggression yet precise action, for while many consider fire to be naught but destruction it is also a bringer of life. Like water cleanses it too can cleanse, and like water can bring about life so too can fire.
However, Dragonstone is a volcanic island and the castle that shares its name is one that was built using the fire magic of the Valyrians, and while fire may bring about life too much of it can also snuff it out. As such it is Aemon's duty to sing this contradictory song of fire and ice, fire for life and ice to regulate the fire.
Still, despite its contradictory nature it is a beautiful song, one that speaks to life and, unseen by Aemon, resonates with the Well of Light.
Unseen by him, the waters of the well do not remain in their pools, but rather burrow deep into the earth and are absorbed by the island before dispersing further into the caves, dragon nests, hidden passages, and even the volcano of the island. And even then it does not stop there for the water also entrenches itself into the castle of the Dragonstone, the city below it, and into the very depths of the island.
However, none of that concerns Aemon as he continues to sing, his and the Children's song having long reached its crescendo and is now in its final notes where their voices meld together once more.
As the final note is sung, the Children slowly separate themselves from Aemon's spirit and he falls asleep, drained at the foot of a massive tree whose colors of gold and silver illuminate the entire island of Dragonstone.
Author's Note: Here's the latest chapter. As usual, tell me what you guys think. If you want to support me or read ahead, you at my patreon: patreon.com/servantambrosius