Disclaimer: I do not own 'A song of Ice and Fire' nor 'Magic the Gathering'.

Author's Note: Hello everyone, this is my first literary work/fanfiction so if the quality seems subpar, bear with me. This story sort of took root in my head after noticing a lack of MTG x ASOIAF crossovers and i felt like contributing a story of my own after reading all sorts of stories on this site. I am writing this in my spare time for fun so the plan is to post a new chapter every month. I have a beginning, middle and end to the story planned out already, so i intend to finish this story, because unfinished stories annoy me.

Prologue

Imagine, for just a moment, that the world you live in, everything you know and don't, all that was, is and will be is but a small part of a larger whole. That you are a tiny fish who consider the lake they live in all that there is, incapable of imagining the river nearby. The Multiverse, or the Blind Eternities as it's known to some, is quite possibly the greatest mystery that exists, simply because almost no one knows it exists. Within this infinite expanse, or possibly finite but so large that it makes no difference, there can be found numerous unique worlds, from empty swathes, to lush gardens, to filigree marvels, to magical wonders, abyssal oceans, unspeakable horror-filled wastelands and everything in between that you can think of. Many of these worlds are even inhabited, with beings who live in ignorance of their worldly neighbors, but 'many' does not mean 'all'. For you see, there are beings who are born with the capability of traveling between the worlds of the Multiverse.

These 'embers', one in several millions of sentient beings, are born with a gift, and it's completely random where it will appear. Most will live out their existence without ever knowing that they have this 'spark' inside of them. It takes extreme stress or strong emotions over a period of time for a spark to 'ignite', with the most common method being near death experiences, though even that isn't a guarantee. A number of those that do ignite their spark even die after their first 'planeswalk', but those that survive will find incredible power and infinite possibilities at their disposal.

In a very distant corner of the Blind Eternities, far away from the rich leylines of the center of the Multiverse, there exists an unremarkable world called Planetos. Upon a closer look at this planet we find a landmass named Westeros, and looking closer still within the northern half of the land, south of a massive wall of ice, we find an impressive castle in the middle of a snow covered plains.

The night is bitterly cold outside the walls of Winterfell, seat of house Stark, but when are they not? Started by Bran the Builder, the lineage of the Winter kings is prestigious and long, surviving inumerous challenges and disasters, the latest being Robert's Rebellion. Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, came back from the war with a baby in his arms, claiming that he would raise his natural born son with the rest of his trueborn siblings. It is a lie, of course. Jon was the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and his sister, Lyanna Stark, rightful ruler of the throne of the seven kingdoms, and he knows his best friend Robert would not hesitate to butcher his nephew. So he sacrificed his honor, for the greater good, ended the war and took Jon with him, to keep his promise to Lyanna. He would be known as a bastard, but he would be safe.

An elderly woman slowly makes her way along the hall, coming back from the kitchens after eating supper to Jon Snow's room. He came down with a strong fever two days ago and, worryingly, has been getting worse ever since. She has been looking after him as best she could but considering her frail body and half blind eyes, it mostly involves keeping him company and watching over him. Her great-grandson Walter, or Hodor as they call him now, has been helping her by delivering food and medicine, since no other servant is willing to go against Lady Stark's orders.

When she learned that Jon had fallen seriously ill, Catelyn had instructed that he be kept away from herself, her children and any servants who worked close to them. Nan, or Old Nan as she is known to some, volunteered herself to keep watch over him since it looked like no one else would. The heartless shrew tried to convince her, that she was 'putting her life in risk' but she wouldn't have it. She looked her in the eye and told her that she lived a long life and if it was her time then the Old Gods would have her. Separating him from everyone else to avoid spreading a possible plague seems reasonable enough, but she's willing to wager a Silver Stag that she's overreacting just to be petty to the boy.

Ever since Lord Stark had left to fight the ironborn a fortnight ago, the woman had kept the child busy, giving him dirty chores that would keep him occupied all day. She was indirect about it too, telling different servants that Jon was to help them for the day and when other servants helped him in his tasks they would find themselves with extra work the day after, so that stopped in the first few days. Her long life experience told her Jon probably caught a chill from working in the rain four days ago and overworking his young body the day after. She had seen people die of fever before, so she knew that if the fever didn't break tonight th-.

Suddenly, there is a bright light shining from behind Jon's door, as if the sun itself had popped into existence in his room, so glaring even her old eyes could see the golden sunlight along the door's edges from down the hall. A bad premonition assaults her before she rushes to the door, the smoke reaching her nose when she gets there. She yanks the door open, only to find the bedding engulfed in flames, the orange glow of the fire starting to spread along the floor.

"FIRE!" She shouts, calling for help.

Servants soon come with buckets of water, ready to put out the inferno in the room. They finally put out the fire around dawn, but everything inside has burned down, every flammable item turned into cinders and ash. When they question Old Nan, to find out what exactly happened, her testimony of seeing a bright light is dismissed, assuming it was the light of the blaze she saw instead. A funeral is held the very next day for Jon Snow, his ashes spread in front of the Weirwood in the Godswood.

Catelyn feels conflicted during the funeral. She feels saddened that a child died a horrible death inside her home, relieved that the Bastard will never jeopardize her children's future, guilt that she feels relief at a child's death and conflicted on what should be done next. Her husband should be notified that his baseborn son is dead, but he has lost so much of his family already that she fears it would break him. The shock while in the middle of a war might be enough to put his life in danger, and she didn't want him to die. Reaching a decision, she calls for Luwin for a private word as everyone else leaves the Godswood.

"Lady Stark, what do you wish to speak of?"

"It's about the news of the b... Jon's death"

"I was just about to go to the rookery to send word to Lord Stark."

"You will hold this news from my husband."

Luwin pauses for a moment, surprised at her request. "Lord Stark needs to know th-"

"And what do you think will happen if he learns of his death? My lord husband loved him, his passing would weight on his mind, a distraction that might cost him his life at a time he needs his wits about him. If he dies, Robb, a six name-day child will be the Warden of the North, which means someone will have to rule in his stead. We cannot have instability in this critical time, you know this."

Luwin sighs and drops his shoulders in defeat. "I can see you have already come to a decision, and as the ruling Lady of Winterfell, i shall obey, but i counsel you, at least consider warning him as soon as the war ends, he should not find out as he passes the gates."

Catelyn just nods in response.

In a very different place, almost as if another world, where building can be seen as far as the eye can see, saunters an elegant woman through the streets. Raven haired, fair skinned and striking violet eyes, dressed in a luxurious, revealing purple dress and a golden crown on her head . She is returning to her residence after a wonderfully relaxing evening, for what is the point of eternal youth if she doesn't enjoy it. 'Especially after what it cost me', she reminds herself once more. That hasn't stopped her from looking into ways to free herself, but for now she has to play along. It is during this moment that she happens to sense a planeswalker arriving. Suddenly on alert, she prepares her spells, ready to blast her would-be assailant with enough death to kill a flock of angels, as she closes in to investigate who has the audacity to trespass in her territory. What she does not expect to find is a fevered, slightly singed child, with one foot in the grave.

'A child planeswalker...? He looks like he just made his first jump. Interesting...' thought Liliana. Numerous possibilities spring into her mind of the use this child can be to her. True he would not be immediately useful but the opportunity to mold a being capable of traveling the planes would be an incredible boon. Having decided on a course of action, she picks up the boy and brings him into her home.

She walks through the halls of a tasteful manor with a patient in her arms, bringing him to a guest bedroom, where she can ply her skills. Contrary to her magic, she IS a skilled healer, she just never has a reason to apply her training on the living. Now that there is enough light to work with, she sees that the boy is pale skinned, long faced, with brown hair so dark it's almost black. Liliana is reminded of her brother, Josu, who she accidentally cursed.

'Well now, it almost makes this personal. I will just have to make sure you are worth it.' thought Liliana, already plotting possible futures in her head.