Was it wrong to profit off a kingdom's inevitable civil war?
…
Jon POV
At age 11, Jon Snow knew his place in the world. He was a bastard of lord Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North. At an early age, Catelyn Stark, the mother of his siblings, educated him relentlessly about his parentage. It wasn't that he was a lackwit or didn't understand reminding him of his station seemed to bring the woman pleasure. Even his brother thought Jon needed a reminder when they played lord of Winterfell. Jon was never allowed to be the lord, and if Catelyn Stark heard him ask, he was punished. On his name day, the old gods gave him a gift. He felt hot and cold and couldn't stop shivering.
Jon opened his eyes to a hill reaching for heaven. Rusty discarded pieces of armor covered the hill. A path of white stones led the way, untouched by the armor on the ground. Rust piled up on either side of the narrow white path.
A hand grasped his shoulder, and Jon nearly jumped out of his skin. "My name is Silas; what's yours?" Silas said.
Jon froze at the man standing over him. His eyes glowed a harsh yellow that demanded respect. Two black rings hovered menacingly crossed above the man's head. A long, flowing purple robe with gold stitching covered the man's body like Jon expected a royal to wear. The fakest smile Jon had ever seen stretched the monster's face. Nothing the man said could be trusted. Jon knew that from looking at him. The man reminded him of the sleaziest merchants, the kind his lord father threw out of Wntertown in the dead of winter. He felt the man pat his shoulder, overly familiar.
"Am I dreaming?" Jon asked.
"Well, I will call you Jon if you don't want to give me the name. Boy, you are in a pickle. This dream is a metaphor, and that light is heaven. If you go towards it, you may die. So I would advise you to turn around and leave this place." The man smiled and turned in the opposite direction of the hill. "Do you see the creeping darkness? That's where you need to go?" Silas said.
He told himself that he was the son of lord Stark of Winterfell he wouldn't be fooled by a lying demon.
"I will take my chances with the light," Jon said.
The man stepped on top of the rusted armor on the ground crushing it underfoot. "That sword isn't for you; it can only be drawn by the man who can be king. Even if you went up to the top, you would surely fall and break your crown. I won't come tumbling after." Silas said.
Jon made his way down the white path and found his way narrowing. Every step towards the kill gave him less room to maneuver. The liar walked beside him, avoiding the white path.
"Why can't you touch the stones?" Jon asked.
The creature smirked before shaking his head. "The path your on isn't for me. I prefer options. Don't you think the straight and narrow is limiting? Why take it when there are easier ways up the hill?" The armor continued to crunch under the creature's feet. "How will you get better from your fever if you choose to take a chance rather than wake up. Do you think there are magic pills to improve your body at the top of the hill? Even if the sword chooses you, your survival odds are low." Silas asked.
Jon scowled at the man. "I will deal with that when I get there," Jon said.
A child of a Stark was honorable and true. His life wasn't more precious than his honor. The man continued to crush the armor under his feet while Jon's path grew narrower. Midway up the hill, Jon saw an armor set with a crushed chest half filled with rubies leaving only one head of the Targaryen sigil. Silas stomped down on the armor, crushing it on his way.
"For those bold enough to take them, there are easier paths. Are you certain you can call those white pebbles a road anymore? Once they're gone, how can you be sure you're still following the original path. The white pebbles vanished almost to the summit. Silas hopped from fallen body to fallen body. "Be careful the grass is quite sharp," Silas said.
Jon took a step a felt blinding pain lance up his leg. He looked back down the narrow white path to see the darkness swallowing the hill. "Countless men had fallen before they reached the top, but most have left their armor here. Wouldn't using them as stepping stones to ease your accent be easier?" Silas asked.
"I am the son of Eddard Stark. I won't give in to what is easy to reach my goal." The monster laughed while crushing another set of armor underfoot. This one was plated with gold with a tattered red cape. Jon took another step, and the pain continued. "This won't stop me," Jon said.
"Why stick to the path when you are a bastard? Who would back your claim to the throne? Is that something you would even want?" Silas asked.
Jon had heard of the demons of the seven hells. Surely Silas was one of them, plying doubt in his ears. Yet, even without a clear path forward, he turned his eyes behind him and aligned himself with the path he had taken. The boy thought he saw Silas smile but must have been mistaken.
"If I'm King, people won't call me a bastard anymore. Everyone will look up to me like they do, Father."
Jon said and walked faster, sure of his path despite the pain. By using the path behind him, he climbed the hill. Embers of the light remained as the darkness swallowed the world. Jon stepped to the summit, where the white path continued to the sword buried in the stone table.
In the fading light, the sword's beauty was unmatched. The hilt was curved, unlike anything Jon had ever seen. Ripples raged across the blade like flames colored the red of blood. It was thinner than he expected, with a blackguard and hilt.
Jon approached the sword that chose kings. And words filled his mind. The boy stepped on the split round table and gripped the sword's hilt. So this was it, he realized and pulled.
Something alien filled his mind. "You will do. My name is Bloodfyre." Jon pulled the sword from the stone, and the darkness stopped. Holding the sword felt like his blood was on fire. It made him feel strong enough to do anything he set his mind to. Bloodfyre felt right in his hand; her curved handle allowed him to point her blade where he wanted it. She was light even for a girl, and felt like an extension of his arm. "Wait until we practice; then, we will sing together."
"This was a sweet dream. I wish I could bring you with me when I wake. I always wanted a sword and a friend." Jon said.
"She is made from purgatory mithril; when you wake, she will be in your hand. So don't worry about losing her. I don't think you could if you tried." The demon said.
The smile on his face was wider than ever until it nearly split his skull. Jon wanted to run the demon through with Bloodfyre.
Silas handed him a gold and red capsule. "When you awaken, take this, and you will grow stronger."
The world twisted, and Jon stood still as all but Bloodfyre and the pill given to him faded.
…
Silas POV
Silas stood in the dream realm as Jon vanished, taking debts without knowing the cost. He woke his bed aboard Bismark X, his ship. The demon scratched his face and stretched, letting his joints crack before sitting up. As the boy who inherited ice and fire, Jon had the most untapped magical potential of anyone on planetos. He was the only one Silas could link to from the dream realm. Still, it had been a gamble to put on his little performance. If Jon had been older, he wouldn't have bought it.
Silas needed blood essence to advance as a cultivator of the Apocolypse Demon Body Refinement Art. But, while he could mass-murder cities of weaklings, the demon had better things to do. And Planetos was a little over 40 years away. The magic of dreams could cross vast distances, but he still couldn't make the trip quickly. So he found Jon scanned the boy's dreams without revealing himself to get a feel for the world and crafted an illusion.
Most of it would fade from the boy's memories, but the sword and pill would remain. To sell the idea, he beat the kid over the head with a metaphor, implanted ambition, and gave the kid an enchanted sword.
His best girl entered the room wearing a breathtaking black silk dress that hugged her curves nicely. His green-skinned witch wore her hat at a tilt, giving him bedroom eyes.
"Did our little girl like him?"
"I think they look cute together," Silas said.
Bloodfyre was a blood essence transferal device. Everyone Jon killed with her would be drained of blood essence that Jon would use to buy weapons and upgrades. Silas had the Hentai Gotcha System that could grant him anything in the multiverse if he had enough Hentai Points. Those points could also be used to purchase items already obtained from the system, like body modification pills.