Sage.

Arya Stark would be a warrior, Archer could tell for sure, as a man who had walked countless battlefields and crossed blades with legendary heroes had some experience.

And that same experience told him that the handful of few weeks named Arya Stark would never settle for a comfortable life as a noble lady, nor would the little girl before him dream of adventures and adventures.

"She looks a lot like your mother"

the secret that Ned Stark had kept for six long years that he had fought for, committed treason and risked his own marriage had been revealed so casually as if it were nothing. Archer didn't need to turn around to find that old Nan sitting in the shadows of the room was responsible.

She had spotted the old woman's frail body camouflaged in the darkness from the very beginning, as for how the nurse learned of that secret, Emiya expected nothing less from the Master of Winterfell Whisperers.

"Really? having never met her, I don't know"

"I have served more than five Lord Starks in my life and raised countless children with wolf blood running through their veins but few was as strong as your mother and the little lady before us"

"That's not always a good thing" Archer had done his research those who were said to have wild blood in their veins didn't end up looking good, Emiya didn't want this for her new little sister.

"Real. In recent years wild blood has become synonymous with recklessness but it is more than that. It is a sign of greatness, of potential. indicates that a child capable of great things." There was passion in the old woman's voice, a kind of fanaticism that Emiya had only heard in those who truly believe in what they say.

"I don't want greatness for her, I just want her to be happy" Emiya had seen far too many people crushed by the weight of the legend, by the glory that greatness induced, they stopped being human to become just automatons of the story they had created.

This had been the fate of Artoria the first woman he had loved, the king of knights had renounced his identity and humanity for the good of his nation, to cope with the greatness to which it was destined. Only to be betrayed by her own people who no longer thought her human.

Archer himself had been crushed by the weight of the grandeur of his ideals. In Emiya's experience, greatness was synonymous with suffering in most situations.

"Could have both"

"It's a simplistic and far too feel-good thought" Archer didn't even try to hide his cynicism and simply mocked the woman's opinion

"How sad so young yet so tired." Young the word was wrong on so many levels to describe him that Archer had a hard time not laughing in the woman's face.

While her current body may have been that of a child, Emiya had a life experience that easily spanned centuries and approached millennia.

"You sound like a grandfather," old Nan joked not knowing she wasn't the first person to call him that.

"Call me grandpa or whatever you want, I don't care. The only thing that matters to me is that my brothers are happy and safe."

"The Seven Kingdoms may think the Tullys are the home of family but for me having lived in this world longer than most people can only dream I know they are wrong it is the Starks who put family first place" the woman's eyes were cloudy as she remembered the past

"Then you know I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe." Archer didn't want more blood on his hands but he'd already let his family down once he wouldn't do it a second time.

"Remember that when next time you're in the mood to talk, I don't want to have to sully Arya's nursery" was not an empty threat and to underline her seriousness Emiya leaked part of her murderous intent.

It was only a fraction of what he was capable of but it was enough to make the old woman shiver

By revealing his mother's identity the old Nan had put not only him but also all the Starks and the inhabitants of the castle at risk, it was not something Archer could allow.

"Don't worry my prince no one takes seriously the words and actions of a poor old woman a little touch it's like I'm invisible. It's not fair Brandon," the old woman giggled as she performed her act.

Emiya had to grant it to the woman it was a smart ploy no one paid attention to the crazy people in this way not only could she act with impunity but she would also be able to gather information very easily.

The woman was truly worthy of her title of master spy.

"It's amazing how people talk with impunity in your presence if they think you can't understand them" Archer could understand very well what the spy was talking about.

There was a reason why during the Middle Ages most of the spies were part of the servants, the nobles already did not realize what they said in front of the servants but with the cover of madness even on her side the woman could be truly invisible.

"for example, I can tell you with certainty that in a few hours you will be summoned by Lord Stark, it seems that Lady Catelyn has finally gotten what she has always wanted."

Emiya wasn't particularly surprised by this news, there had always been the risk that in the end Tully would get what she wanted, after their last fight that danger had only increased.

"Well that means I'll have to take some action first" with one last look at the woman and a sweet smile at little sleeping Arya Archer took his leave

"I have served many Starks in my life, in many different positions. Some gentlemen didn't even know about all my duties and all my skills." Considering the lifespan of the woman and that of some Starks, Archer could very well believe that some of his ancestors did not know the real role of the woman and had really only mistaken her for a simple nanny.

"I wonder what services you will use My Lord?"

Archer didn't have to wait even a couple of hours before being summoned by his uncle just like old Nan had said. What neither he nor the old woman had been able to predict was the meeting place.

The Forest of the Old Gods was one of the most inaccessible places in the castle along with the crypts where all the Starks were buried. To date, Archer had not been allowed to set foot in either location.

And it was a pity because the forest was the place Emiya was most eager to enter since he came to this world. The place reeked of mystical energy like nothing he had smelled since he was reincarnated.

Each magus had his own method of perceiving mystical energy normally linked to one of the five senses for Archer this was the nose. In his youth he had been compared several times to a bloodhound because of his sense of smell.

In this world, the mana in the air was almost absent, effectively making any form of magic almost impossible; yet, the forest smelled of the unmistakable aroma of mana.

So it was with trepidation that he set out to enter that sacred ground, the third-rate wizard in him curious about the origin of this mystery.

The forest or rather the park was lush trees of all kinds and shapes bloomed with a strength that didn't suit the cold north, but while they were a strange sight they weren't the ones that attracted Archer's attention.

At the center of the gathering crossed by a small stream there was his current guardian Eddard Stark, the lord of Winterfell had his back leaning against a tree while maniacally cleaning a long broadsword, the mere sight of this scene was enough to give an atrocious headache to Emiya.

Structural Grasp, one of the most useless spells a magus could learn, the mystery behind it was so simple that it was usually the first spell taught to a child who had begun to delve into the moonlit world.

Archer had used this same spell as one of the cornerstones to forge his legend in history. His mastery of the Structural Grasp had reached such heights that it became second nature to him to such an extent that it became permanently integrated with his body.

Mystic Eyes, technically Emiya didn't have them, according to definition to have that type of eyes she should have had at least one magical circuit in her visual apparatus. But while not classified as Mystic Eyes, Archer's eyes had similar functions, the ability to subconsciously analyze anything that entered his field of vision.

The ability was so intrinsic in his nature that he didn't need such a small amount of prana to function as to be almost irrelevant allowing him to use this ability even in this world.

And now the information provided by Structural Grasp was giving him a first rate headache, Emiya had tried worse only by analyzing something beyond human nature as weapons of Fay origin.

Under stress her mind automatically reverted to the old patterns she had used for countless years, evaluating and classifying everything in her field of vision.

The first was of course his uncle : the young lord of Winterfell seemed to have gone through a considerable travail, bloodshot eyes and a frowning expression of one who broods too much to make Kiritsugu his first father envious. His past adoptive father and today's adoptive father could not be more different: where Kiritsugu had been a cold-blooded, pragmatic killer for whom honor was only an obstacle who for the sake of his ideals was willing to abandon everything and everyone including family Ned, on the other hand, was a man too obsessed with honor and fairness but was still willing to sacrifice everything for his family. Men should have been antipodes; yet, deep down they had a mirror image core, a willingness to do whatever it took to accomplish their goals.

But it wasn't his uncle who caused his current pain, Ned Stark's analysis was almost irrelevant to him the trees that surrounded him were much more interesting.

They had five-pointed blood-red leaves and blood-red resin of the same color. The smooth bark that makes up the broad trunk of the plants is bone white. The interesting thing was that the wood that made them was a perfect conductor of mana and was not subject to decay. In his old world it would have been perfect material for building mystical codes.

But those trees weren't the reason for his headache either, no the reason for his pain was the sword his uncle was cleaning and the tree he was leaning against.

The Sword: Ice was quite an interesting weapon, the ancestral blade of the Starks having been forged over eight thousand years ago in the heart of old Valyria by what could only be described as a mediocre blacksmith as the design of the blade could attest. More than six feet long and nearly two feet wide, the sword wasn't exactly handy, only the unique properties of Valyrian steel made it usable and not an expensive ornament.

But despite the mediocrity of the blacksmith, Archer could not fail to admire the forging process: The flames of dragons were used to unite the most precious metals and the scales of the dragons themselves in a single compound, the mixture was worked and refined until it reached the the desired result and only then did we arrive at the last and most important phase, the still incandescent blade being immersed in the blood of the dragons.

The result of this long process was Valyrian steel, a metal that was not only more resistant, lighter and sharper than normal steel but also carried within it the same concept of fire and life, making it particularly effective against creatures that had ice and darkness.

The metal fascinated him, Archer had seen similar forging processes based on sacrifices and blood offerings his own favorite blades Kanshou and Bakuya had transcended the mortal realm and entered the divine one only through a human sacrifice.

Valyrian steel didn't have the same drive behind it to overcome the mortal plane but it still remained an admirable alloy perfect for the creation of mystical codes or any Phantasm.

Ice unfortunately hadn't reached that level the blade despite being gorgeous despite all its flaws hadn't achieved a degree of fame high enough to be classified as a Noble Phantasm.

The blade had gone really close, very little would have been enough for the ancestral blade of the Starks to enter into legend. Its first owner, Brandon the Builder , had accomplished enough myth-worthy feats for his gun to become legend as well.

But the blade instead of crystallizing in legend as its first owner was passed on, bequeathed for future generations, changing owners every few years from Lord Stark to Lord Stark.

And not all the lords of Winterfell had been worthy of the legend of the blade, gradually removing the patina of myth that covered the weapon, transforming it from the precious treasure it was to a normal piece of steel.

There was a reason most Noble Phantasms only had one owner or two at most.

With eight thousand plus years of history the blade was one of the oldest Archer had ever analyzed and all of this information had been thrust into his head with a single glance causing pain that was half his suffering.

The real trigger for my current predicament was the tree his uncle was leaning against. At first glance to the untrained observer it might have looked nearly identical to the others surrounding the herd except for the etching of a face on its bark, but to my Structural Grasp it was so much more.

The definitive goal of every magus was to reach the root where all the knowledge of the world was enclosed, even the past, present and future were inscribed there.

Having access to this register in theory gave you power over all reality, over the centuries magicians of all kinds had tried to reach the root who for thirst for knowledge who for power but they had always been stopped.

No matter how close anyone got to the root there was one last obstacle none could overcome: the guardian, Alaya's favorite hunting dog, the one who dripped blood from the countless deaths he'd caused. Myself.

From time immemorial I had guarded the gates that led to all learning, slaying anyone who tried to cross its threshold; yet, now before my eyes was an access point to the root.

Emiya didn't know whether to laugh or cry the tree her uncle leaned on so carelessly was a central hub to reach the heart of this new world.

No guardians to defend him, no army, legendary dragon or poor fool who had made a deal with the devil. The door was simply there ready to be opened by anyone who knew of its existence.

The lock could be locked but in his old world that wouldn't stop any magus worth his salt from entering. The Grail Wars and the atrocities committed in them were only to make a way for the root. To obtain a simple key, most magus would gladly set the world on fire if this meant finally achieving the goal not only of their life but of the very existence of their entire family.

But to make matters worse the tree was not only a central node to access Akasha but was also connected to a Ley Lines making it responsible for the high mana levels in the circumstances.

Not being a sword, his analysis couldn't say much else simply based on sight but even the little he had managed to extrapolate was enough not only to cause him a hallucinating headache but also a not indifferent dilemma.

What to do?

Destroy or not the tree.

As an entry point to the root, the tree posed a significant threat not only to his family but to the whole world, a risk the Caunter Guardian instincts he'd developed over an existence of servitude told him not to take.

But the same experience gained over the centuries told him to reflect better and not give in to his first instincts and to reflect better on how to act. Destroying the tree would perhaps have been the most logical choice but not the best for this. As a third-rate magus Archer admitted that he could not predict what the destruction of this access point would cause.

He didn't even know if destroying the tree would have been enough to definitively close the door or it would have been useless, there was even the possibility that the eventual destruction of the physical link to Akasha would lead to a devastating chain reaction.

There were an infinite number of variables to consider even without taking into account the fact that the mast was also connected to a Ley Lines, even minimally tampering with one of these lines without the right precautions had devastating consequences such as earthquakes, tidal waves and any other kind of natural disaster.

It was in moments like these that Archer missed Rin even more, his former teacher would know exactly what to do. The Tohsaka heir was not only a first-rate sorceress she was a genius in every sense her skill was such that it attracted the attention of the Kaleidoscope himself.

The people of Winterfell called him genius or prodigy but Archer who had experienced by hand what true talent was with Rin, found these statements ridiculous, in the end as always in his life the reality and that it was nothing but a fake.

And now more than but he felt the lack of that talent, that wisdom to guide him, without it he was just a sword without conscience and awareness that didn't know when to roar and when to shut up.

With this mentality he could only cause death and destruction and it was a path he had already traversed. In his youth even before he was condemned to his eternal torment his desire to become a hero like Kiritsugu drove him to the madness of taking up the Asura path. Kill one to save ten, kill ten to save a hundred, a hundred times a thousand in an endless cycle of killing.

Killing to save, sacrificing a few for the good of many, was a perfectly logical way of thinking but also cold and calculating, more worthy of a machine, an automaton than a man. In the past there would have been no hesitation in my actions I would have used any means at my disposal to destroy this menace no matter how many lives I would have had to sacrifice for it.

I was tired of this fate, of this path, hence his hesitation.

"Jon"

"Jon" Ned's voice brings him back to reality

"Yes"

"Everything is fine? I've been calling you for a while" the Lord asked worried

"I was only struck by the tree behind you my lord" the best way to lie was to tinge the lie with truth was something Archer had learned over his long years.

The man frowned at the overly formal tone of what he considered his son but I try not to show it as his gaze fell on the weirwood the boy was talking about.

"I can understand" the red sap looked like blood as it pooled and wept along the incisions on the bark giving the impression that the face was weeping crimson tears.

It was a sight that over time had haunted the nightmares of many more or less adult men, although it was a symbol of faith for thousands of people, the faces of the dam trees were terrifying especially for a child.

"Do you know why I called you?" Ned asked, deciding to get straight to the point

"Yes" the tree was momentarily forgotten now Archer's eyes were focused only on his uncle.

"You have nothing else to say" his grave tone did not represent only a Lord but also a father with this he wanted to show all his displeasure

"What should I say that my lord doesn't already know" Emiya didn't believe in justifications or excuses especially when her punishment was already decided and nothing was going to undo it.

"I may also be your lord but I'm always your father Jon" the Lord's voice softened as he tried to convey his affection to his nephew in order to encourage him to speak

"Nothing to say father I just had a little debate with Lady Catelyn"

"I am well aware of this I have already heard the story from my wife I ask if there is anything else you want to add?"

"Nothing ?" the lord asked again in front of the child's persistent silence

"Jon you don't understand the accusations made by Catelyn against you are very serious without a valid justification I will have to punish you"

"I'm sure the Lady's allegations are serious" Instead of fear there was amusement in Archer's voice as he thought of the various criticisms the woman must have leveled at him.

It was not an attitude in line with the behavior that a child was supposed to have to the obvious chagrin of the adult Stark, from the place and tone used it was clear that Ned was trying to make the child understand the seriousness of his actions.

"Jon" growled the lord of Winterfell seeing the sarcastic expression on his nephew's face

"Father of only what is my punishment" Archer was tired of this little theater he didn't have the patience or the desire to play at being a child when he had more important thoughts going through his head.

"Well." with a sigh Ned Stark seems to have aged decades as he finally got ready to break the news to his nephew

"The letters have already been sent, in a few moons you will become Lord Howland Reed's ward" the news Archer had been waiting for had finally arrived but while he was waiting to be given the news of who his new guardian would be.

After a moment's reflection Archer had to admit that his uncle had seriously considered which of his standard bearers to entrust him with.

"No"

"Father no"

Two screams broke the calm of the stage, Archer didn't need to look to know that it was Robb and Sansa , the two must have followed him on his way to the meeting with Ned.

The two pests must also have overheard the whole conversation hidden in the trees

"Sansa, Robb you shouldn't be here" the man's voice had become even more serious seeing his two rebellious sons emerge from the branches of the trees

"Father you can not send away Jon" began the eldest Robb

"Just didn't do anything wrong," continued Sansa as her huge blue eyes opened as wide as possible, ready to fill them with tears if necessary.

What Ned had feared was coming true he was aware that with his decision he would antagonize his children but he hadn't expected it to be so soon

"It was Mommy who misbehaved," Sansa said angrily

"That's enough" it was Archer who interrupted the tragedy that was about to happen, while he was happy that his brothers cared so much about him he didn't want this discussion to undermine the foundations of the family.

"While it is true that it was Lady Catelyn who started it, I too exaggerated so it is right that he is punished" were the words that the lord of the Starks had wanted Archer to pronounce previously but now he was saying them not for him but for his children

"Plus, just because I'm leaving doesn't mean I won't be back. this trip of mine is only temporary. Right?" the last part was addressed only to the adult among those present.

"Of course, this is not only a punishment but also a way for Jon to learn and get to know new things" to the credit of the lord of Wintefell he immediately noticed the lifeline that Emiya had thrown at him

"View. Even before you know it I will have already returned and then we will keep in touch it will be as if I never left" both children had teary eyes as they listened carefully to every word of their brother completely ignoring their father who they still held responsible for the fate Of these.

"Do you promise?" both children asked

"Sure," Archer replied sincerely

Seeing the scene before him, the lord of Winterfell, despite being excluded, could not help but be moved

"I have some free time, how about spending it together" Ned proposed eager to join the picture he had just seen.

Sansa and Robb locked eyes in silent conversation before nodding to each other and taking their father's hands. Archer was not surprised by the choice of his siblings while Ned Stark was certainly a doting father the workload he had to endure as the new protector of the North prevented him from spending much time with his children.

"Jon you're not coming?" Sansa asked as she continued to tug at her father's sleeve much to the man's amusement.

"Here I am" with one last look at the tree Emiya hurried to follow her new family. Behind him a raven cawed.

It took nearly a month for Archer to meet his new guardian Howland Reed, meeting the lord of Greywater Watch had been quite surprising for the man turned child.

Reed was in fact the only other individual other than his brothers that Archer had identified as magically gifted, certainly the older man had only a shadow of the talent of the Stark heirs.

While that meant nothing considering that the younger generation of Starks were highly gifted, more or less Sansa, Robb and Arya had the aptitude for extremely gifted wizards, in a world where mana was not so scarce they would have been powers to be reckoned with.

Taking his original body as an example Archer could tell with almost certainty that all three children were almost twice as gifted as him approaching Rin's level.

But even her old teacher paled in comparison to her new body, Emiya had never in all her years met someone who was as natural to magic as her new body.

The quality and number of magical circuits he possessed in this life were superior even to those of the greatest Bartoloméloi, a family who boasted of them precisely a trait they owed to their legendary blue blood.

It was a completely reverse situation to that of his old life where he had been held back by a mediocre number and quality of circuits but with an extremely fast recharge time thanks to the abundant mana that permeated the world.

In this new world Archer had the means but not the raw material to make full use of them. Without mana his new circuits were useless a fact that had never caused him much trouble or concern before he discovered root access . The tree was a problem that had tormented him at night since he had discovered that it had been the shadow that hadn't made him fully appreciate the time he had with his brothers before his departure.

After careful consideration Emiya had come to the decision to put the problem aside for now in order to gather more power and information to solve it.

His decision had also been made taking into account the position of the tree, the park of the gods was after all one of the most protected places in the North.

As long as the Starks and Winterfell were strong and secure Archer was pretty sure of the security guarding the door so he left with one less worry.

"We'll be there soon," Reed said, snatching the once-heroic spirit from his thoughts

"I can't wait to see my new home," Archer said as he glanced at the man for the other reason he had so quietly departed the house.

His hope was to learn some of the magic of this world from the lord of the neck so that he could deal more expertly with the problem he had left behind at Winterfell.

"The Reed home, Greywater Watch, is not a castle you have ever seen. And seeing it once doesn't mean you'll never see it again. Because Greywater Watch…it moves." There was pride in the man's voice as he spoke of his family's castle

" My land may not have much in terms of wealth but there are wonders that you won't see anywhere else my castle and only one of these".

Archer who was witnessing the conditions of the earth firsthand could understand what he meant by lack of wealth. Made up largely of swamps and marshes, the Reed fiefdom did not have many resources to exploit considering the technologies of this world.

Incapable of devoting themselves to intensive breeding and cultivation, in fact, the Crannogman were a poor people who relied on fishing to survive. This meant that the Cronnogman were not only typically smaller than other humans but also had a higher infant death rate.

Emiya's own intrinsic nature could not bear the existence of this kind of suffering, the situation was even more amplified by the fact that as a man who had seen the future and all the well-being that it entailed, scenes like this were almost unthinkable.

Archer closed his eyes and took a deep breath, it was time for the sword to stop being an instrument of death and become an instrument at the service of others.

"There is wealth everywhere you just have to find it" Emiya's mind raced to the various ways she could help Crannogman with her knowledge of the future and make this land richer than ever.

Without Rin's wisdom to guide him it was time he became a sage himself in order to guide himself and others.

I apologize for the delay, this chapter was originally supposed to come out at the end of March but various commitments made it postpone . In this chapter we analyze more the world of Game and the conflict that afflicts Archer. An example is how he deals with the discovery that the dam tree is a link to the root, as Archer himself says in the past he would not have hesitated to destroy it no matter the consequences, here instead we see him hesitate, deciding to think before acting. Emiya stops being just an instrument of death and tries to be more. He abandons the warrior's path for that of the sage who thinks about the well-being of others and not about solving problems only with violence.

Next chapter: Warrior.