Magic
Right now, I'm a mummer, it's not going to be a profession for the rest of my life, but apparently the Dornish showmaster learned of my need to get to Oldtown, and offered his patronage, which meant a place to sleep, food and whatever else the smallfolk would give to me, which you know, would be called a tip in my old world. Apparently they wanted a 'Strongchild', since their Strongman had retired because of a hurt back.
Apparently they were passing by Oldtown for a moment, and then my verbal contract would be gone, although I'm not stupid to trust them, I've always maintained my hatchet, to which was all my father could afford to my trip, close-by so that I could defend myself. And thankfully we were on route to Oldtown, as I kept asking the smallfolk whenever we had our exhibitions.
My nightmares have, thankfully and not so much, stopped after I was visited by an Old God, not the God trees, the Seven who are one, R'hllor, or anything like that, but Rher, the trickster God.
"Why are you here? And why can't my master read your intentions?" I remember Per'kele asking of me when we first met, admittedly, I thought I would die.
"Count your stars lucky, child, as my Master feels like killing someone, a child at that, especially one with Vinushka's favor," That had been the only reason why I didn't die, that and me being a child. That meant several things.
First of all, Rher couldn't 'read' my intentions, now, this might be related to Rher's mind reading ability, and if that couldn't work on me, then I don't know why, but I guess that would intrigue a God that a human can simply handle it.
However, what exactly meant that I had Vinushka's favor? Vinushka was the Old God, representing Nature as we know, but from a whole nother universe, which meant that either this is a fusion, or a crossover. With crossover implying that there's something forcing the two universes to interact, while a fusion acts as if the two settings had always been the same since the beginning.
Extrapolating that it's the latter, a fusion, that is, it could be that in the history of this world, the Children of the Forest came from Vinushka, in the same way that Iki Turso had been created by Vinushka, but what exactly did that mean for me? My hopes were that there was at least one book talking about the religions and many deities that this world should remember.
However I'm aware that the Citadel doesn't want Magic, and they forbid, and hide, much of it, if we go by the words of Marwyn and Qyburn. However, Westeros' magic is sacrificial much, while Fear and Hunger's style of magic is self-sacrificial, forcing the mind or the body into failure if required to realize their spells.
Luck was the only thing allowing me to live nowadays, or was it really simply 'luck'? Did I strike a deal with something and they took my memory as part of the price? Even though I would sound maddened, I cannot believe that any other man would come to this world with the ability to have their mind unreadable regardless of who it was. Or what it was, in this scenario.
A man would wonder for who knows how long given what they had in their hands, the Gods from Fear and Hunger is already enough to still me with fear, but what does that mean to the other ones? Are they real now? Are they not? Given what the priests of R'hllor were already able to do, and what's there to come from the Cold Ones, I should treat this situation as the second coming of the Age of Heroes.
Which meant that just being strong was far from enough, for even the strongest could easily fall in the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.
The only way I could be 'safe' is if I had become a New God, using the throne to Ascend, but even that had it's own issues, losing my humanity was not something I was looking forward to. Even 'running away' had it's issues that this world was simply not kind enough for someone to run away, especially now that I already have Gods looking at me, one way or the other.
That settles it, I needed to learn Magic.
Thankfully, I should be able to get there before Marwyn is kicked out.
Gared had been a strange child ever since he got to Oldtown, fairfolk the boy might have been, but so far the words he spoke were the types that only Maesters could understand... and even that was dependent on who was speaking with him.
The whispers about the strange boy had admittedly intrigued Oberyn, who was already bored from making half the links necessary to become a Maester, and when he began to talk with the boy, he understood why people thought the boy was strange.
He had seen geniuses, and then there was this boy. The boy never struck him as a genius, simply learned, which was insane enough of a thought to many, after all, how can a boy already be learned when he was not even of ten? Yet still. The way he formulated phrases were odd, sometimes he would use a word or two that didn't have any mean before he explained what they were supposed to.
"Oberyn, right who I wanted to talk with," He was? Curious.
"I've been wanting to see you, I've heard that Dorne had sundials, no? I've been curious because I have been... unbelievably annoyed so far over time measurement and I've been trying my hand to make it work," What?
"I have some designs, but my motor function is horrible because well, baby hands, but I've been having some other Maesters help me with this," He said as he took over an parchment, full of strange yet intricate design.
"This is well, a watch, we could throw some gold and silver if we wanted to make money, but the point is that they would be synchronized with the sundials, and suddenly everyone who can afford should be able to tell the time, granted, it's not perfect, I could barely make out these small pieces into the parchment, managing to make the molds required would be too much of a hassle for someone of my stature," Stature?
"I was under the impression that you were a second son or perhaps third son of a northern lord, do they not have the coin?" Gared laughed almost as if someone had told him the funniest joke ever, and perhaps it even was, for he already fell on the floor with tears on his face.
"Who has been spreading that?" He asked in the middle of giggles as he tried to make away with the laughter-filled tears on him.
It took an odd minute or two for the boy compose himself, shaking his head.
"My father is a pig farmer, my Prince, I might become a squire when I return home, but even so, I'm far from anyone with pockets of any kind, my Prince," Oberyn couldn't believe it himself.
"Then how are you paying the studies?" Oberyn asked, even if he got a job in Oldtown, it would still be hard to pay this place, and he doubted people were out there hiring children unless they were part of Varys' little birds.
"Poorly, one might say, but thankfully, I've managed to make friends with some of the Maesters who would much rather see me become more well read than otherwise, but even then I'm still working so that I can fetch food for myself," The boy had said as Oberyn grinned.
"Well, what then? I've heard that you're already forging a link? Are you planning on becoming a Maester? Or perhaps a Archmaester?" Oberyn prodded the boy.
"Neither, I'm smart enough to understand that a celibacy vow for life is moronic, that's the same reason why I would never join the Wall," Now Oberyn was actually focused on the conversation, he had always thought the Northerners were prudes, or at least, were not open about it in the same way the Dornish people were, but then again, you could say that about everyone outside of Dorne.
"And what then? A first way trip to a brothel on your nameday?" The boy unfortunately, shook his head.
"I was that having whispers of a genius boy would make highborn people more interested to marry me, but maybe I can still make myself look better if there's any war in the next 10 years," Now that's one foreboding phrase.
"The Ironborn are planning on rebelling soon, if whispers are to be believed" Oberyn stated, but the boy shook his head.
"Well, unfortunately I'm too young to hold a sword and cut a head off... besides they will lose, even if their losses were relatively low in comparison to every other Kingdom, they're still lacking in manpower, and attempts to control the sunset sea will result in clashes with the Lannisters and the North, the former who're in power through marriage and the latter has their Host regarded as the King's brother, I doubt the King would allow his wife's father and his best friend suffer like that," Gared rolled his eyes as Oberyn was fascinated by how this child was aware of the situation like this.
"Then why would he wage a war if it's like that?" Oberyn asked, curious as to the answer.
"Balon is dumber a rock." Gared stated before he paused when he saw Oberyn stuck between laughing and raising an eyebrow.
"If Greyjoy decides to wage war, it's because he believes Robert an usurper and that he wouldn't have support... which is stupid, as I've stated before, North and Riverlands will come because of Eddard, Vale because they were the first to raise their swords against the Aerys the second, Crownlands because acting otherwise is stupid... Frankly, the only people he could actually believe would rebel alongside him is Dorne," Gared continued talking as Oberyn nodded.
"But would we?" The boy shook his head again.
"You guys have waited six years to take revenge on the Lannisters over what the Mountain have done to your princess, but you cannot, however, I've heard that revenge is a dish best served cold," He continued speaking, making Oberyn realize something.
"You haven't talked about Reach joining," The adult stated, as if to catch the boy by surprise.
"Balon is too stupid to try to make allies with Reach, he's more likely to unleash his men here than reach a compromise, frankly, everything to the Old Ways are stupid, and should've been put seven feet down, but what can I do?" The boy asked moving away, readying himself, hoping, that he would be able to do something to change the strands of fate, even if he has to reveal what little he managed to learn on magic so far.
Well, surely he would be able to marry above his station, no? God, what he would give for an opportunity of saving a maiden or two.