Owen had waited until the castle's inhabitants had gone to sleep before trying out his latest gift from the Celestial Forge. Locking the door to his guest room, he reached into the powers in his soul and with the flash of a bright light and a thought, he appeared within the dimension that held temple. He gaped at the large area he found himself in - the space covered several city blocks, built of glowing marble and gold, the architecture beyond beautiful and mighty at the same time. A few feet away from him, the Temple of Solomon stood the size of a huge mansion, its doors open in welcome.
"Gods, this place is fucking huge," he whispered as he walked towards the temple, gazing at everything.
The marble beneath his feet gleamed with an inner light, creating patterns that shifted and flowed like liquid starlight. Towering columns lined the path to the entrance, each one etched with symbols and scripts in languages Owen had never seen before. The air hummed with power - not the raw energy of his forge or the mechanical precision of his constructors, but something older, deeper, more profound.
Golden light spilled from the temple's entrance, casting long shadows across the courtyard. The doors themselves stretched three stories high, carved from a material that looked like pearl but radiated warmth like living flesh. As Owen approached, he noticed the intricate reliefs decorating their surface - scenes of creation and magic, of kingdoms rising and falling, of knowledge being passed down through generations.
The temple's façade rose before him, its architecture defying conventional geometry. Spires and arches intersected at impossible angles, creating shapes that drew the eye upward into infinity. Precious gems studded the walls in constellations that mirrored no sky Owen had ever seen, yet felt somehow familiar.
A gentle breeze carried the scent of incense and ancient parchment from within the temple's depths. Owen paused at the threshold, his hand hovering over one of the door's elaborate handles. The metal thrummed beneath his fingers, responding to his presence like a living thing.
As Owen stepped into the inner sanctum, the air grew thick with magical energy. The temple's interior stretched out before him in a maze of corridors and chambers, each one filled with ancient knowledge and power. Golden light filtered through crystalline windows, casting prismatic patterns across floors inlaid with precious stones and metals.
His mind wandered to what little he knew of the Fate series and its Holy Grail Wars. Fragments of memories surfaced - legendary heroes summoned as Servants, fighting at the command of their Masters in a battle for an omnipotent wish-granting device called the Holy Grail. But those half-remembered memes and warnings to new players about walking into hell seemed trivial now, standing in this place of true power.
The Celestial Forge's knowledge flooded his consciousness, revealing the truth of where he stood. This wasn't merely a biblical temple as many would assume - it was the workshop of Solomon himself, the King of Magic from the Fate universe. Shelves stretched endlessly upward, filled with grimoires bound in materials that seemed to shift and change as he looked at them. Glass containers of every size held swirling potions and reagents that defied natural law.
Owen ran his fingers along the spines of ancient texts, feeling the magic pulse beneath their covers. These were Solomon's original research notes, his personal studies into the foundations of magecraft. The very system that modern mages in the Fate universe struggled to replicate in pale imitation had been crafted here, by a man whose connection to magic transcended human understanding.
Workbenches lined the walls, their surfaces carved with intricate magical circuits that hummed with latent energy. Various artifacts and tools lay scattered across them - rings, staffs, and devices whose purposes Owen could only guess at. Each one radiated power that made his skin tingle.
The temple's magical energy felt different from anything Owen had experienced before. Unlike the raw industrial might of his Dwemer constructs or the elemental force of his forge, this was refined, purposeful power. It was the difference between crude ore and a perfectly forged sword - both contained the same essential material, but one had been shaped by a master's hand into something far greater.
In alcoves and on pedestals throughout the chamber, he spotted items that could only be Solomon's personal magical implements - tools used by the king himself to perform feats of sorcery that no modern mage could hope to match. These weren't the limited magical items of contemporary mages, but artifacts created by a man who had been blessed by God with wisdom beyond measure.
Owen wandered deeper into the vast library, his footsteps echoing off the marble floors. The shelves towered above him, stretching up into shadows where the golden light couldn't reach. Each section revealed new categories of magical knowledge, their spines gleaming with titles in scripts both familiar and alien.
He traced his fingers across the labels. "Creations of golems... elemental magic... siege magecraft..." His eyes widened as he continued reading. "Form alteration, alchemy, familiar summoning, familiar creation..." The topics grew darker as he progressed. "Blood sacrifice, bargaining with demons, demon summoning..."
The categories seemed endless - creation of magical binding pacts, leylines, spirit summoning, magical items, war magic. Even dragon summoning and binding. But Owen's excitement faded as reality set in.
"What's the point?" He slumped against a bookshelf. "I don't even have magic circuits. Solomon could do all this because he had perfect and powerful circuits. I don't have a single one. How am I supposed to do magic if I can't create or use magic circuits?"
A sudden whooshing sound made him jump. Three large tomes shot through the air, their pages fluttering as they landed gently in his arms. Owen blinked at the titles embossed in gold on their leather covers.
"'How to Create Magic Circuits', 'Perfection of Magic Circuits', and 'Mana Flow and Generators: A Study'," he read aloud. "Huh, well that's convenient."
He barely finished speaking when a plush divan materialized behind him, upholstered in rich velvet. Next to it, an ornate table appeared bearing a spread of fresh-cut fruits, plump grapes, and crystal decanters filled with chilled juice.
Owen let out a surprised laugh. "Guess the Temple of Solomon really knows how to make studying enjoyable. Well, best get started." He said, putting a juicy grape into his mouth and starting to read.
As Owen put the last book down, he marveled at King Solomon's teaching methods. The ancient king had filled his texts with vibrant, animated illustrations that danced across the pages, bringing complex magical concepts to life. Each lesson came wrapped in engaging stories of Solomon's own discoveries and experiments, making even the driest theoretical concepts accessible and memorable.
The chamber adjusted its lighting to ease Owen's eyes after hours of reading, the magical ambiance shifting from bright study-light to a softer, more relaxing glow. Empty juice decanters refilled themselves, and fresh fruit appeared to replace what he'd eaten.
Solomon's approach to teaching magic circuits had surprised Owen. Rather than focusing on their creation, the first book had delved deep into their nature and function. The animated diagrams had shown magic circuits lighting up within the human body like glowing rivers of power, demonstrating how mages channeled and controlled magical energy through these pathways.
The revelation about artificial magic circuits had been particularly enlightening. Solomon's notes described the process as typically brutal - painful at best, lethal at worst. The resulting circuits were often flawed, prone to burning out or damaging their user. While Solomon had certainly developed superior methods for creating artificial circuits, he'd devoted little space to them in his writings.
Instead, Solomon had emphasized a startling truth - most humans already possessed magic circuits. The key difference between mages and non-mages wasn't the presence or absence of circuits, but whether they had been activated. Children born to mage parents typically had their circuits awakened at birth or early in life, while those born to non-magical families carried their dormant potential to the grave, never knowing what they might have been capable of.
The floating images in the book had illustrated this principle clearly - showing identical internal structures in both mages and non-mages, with the only difference being the dormant state of the circuits in untrained individuals. Solomon's animated diagrams highlighted how these sleeping pathways could be awakened under the right circumstances.
Owen, however, couldn't help but grimace at the common methods described in the texts. The animated illustrations showed mages awakening their circuits in battle, their bodies wracked with pain as survival instinct forced dormant pathways open. Other scenes depicted possession by demons, the dark entities violently tearing through a person's spiritual framework to activate their magical potential. Even the "natural" awakenings seemed brutal - near-death experiences that shocked the circuits into functioning.
The gentler method required an experienced mage to carefully channel their mana into another person, coaxing the dormant circuits awake. But Owen had no access to such a mage. He had flipped through more pages, hoping for a better solution.
Then he saw it - Solomon's elegant answer to the problem. The king had developed a potion that could safely activate magic circuits without external assistance. The animated diagram showed a figure drinking the red liquid, their circuits lighting up in a controlled, gradual process. Unlike the violent awakening methods, this potion worked in harmony with the body's natural energies.
"Solomon was such a great teacher!" Owen snapped his fingers. "Potion of Magical Awakening."
A crystal bottle materialized on the table beside his refreshments, summoned from some storage within the temple, filled with a luminescent red liquid that seemed to pulse with its own heartbeat. Owen lifted it carefully, studying how the potion caught the light. The cork came free with a soft pop.
"Bottoms up." He tilted the bottle back and drank.
The glass slipped from his fingers as awareness exploded through his mind. Deep within his consciousness, he saw them - golden threads of power igniting one after another. Unlike the green circuits shown in Solomon's books, Owen's blazed with celestial light. They raced through his body like molten gold, filling every muscle, every bone, every cell with magical potential.
The circuits kept coming. Ten sparked to life, then twenty, then thirty. They multiplied exponentially - ninety, a hundred, five hundred. Where most mages possessed perhaps a few dozen circuits, Owen's body lit up with thousands. One thousand became ten thousand as the golden lines continued to manifest, turning his entire being into a living network of magical power.
The light of his circuits shone through his skin, casting the temple chamber in a warm golden glow. Owen gasped for breath as the activation finally completed, his body humming with newfound power.
Owen collapsed into the divan, his entire body trembling as waves of magical energy coursed through him. The golden light of his circuits still shimmered beneath his skin, though fainter now, like starlight seen through water. He ran a hand through his sweaty hair, trying to process the magnitude of what had just happened.
"What the fuck was that?" he gasped, his voice echoing off the temple walls.
The power thrumming through his body was beyond anything he'd imagined possible. Trust Solomon to create a potion that would put even the most powerful modern mages to shame. While he doubted he possessed the infinite magical circuits that Solomon himself had wielded, Owen felt as if he could summon and maintain a hundred divine servants without breaking a sweat. The potion hadn't just awakened his circuits - it had perfected them in a single stroke.
His mind raced with the possibilities until a sobering thought made him pause. He needed a magic reactor to make full use of this power. Owen rubbed his temples as he recalled the detailed information from Solomon's books. The most powerful reactors in existence were Holy Grails, but those required years to construct and even longer to become self-sufficient, absorbing natural mana until they could generate their own infinite supply - enough to summon Servants and grant wishes during the Holy Grail Wars.
A mage could create lesser magical items to serve as reactors, but again, those took years of careful cultivation before they'd be powerful enough to be useful. The final option made Owen's heart sink - harvesting the heart of an ancient magical beast from the Age of Gods, creatures that had absorbed mana like sponges throughout their long lives. Dragons, chimeras, phoenixes, hydras...
"Where the fuck am I getting one of those?" Owen muttered, slumping further into the divan.
Owen got up paced the temple's marble floors, his newly awakened circuits still humming with untapped potential. The golden light beneath his skin had dimmed to a subtle glow, but the raw power coursing through him demanded an outlet.
"Daenerys hasn't even hatched her dragons yet," he muttered, running his options in his head. "And even if she had, killing one for its heart would be pointless. Those dragons weren't born in the Age of Gods - they'd be barely a few years old by the time they reach Westeros."
He stopped at one of Solomon's workbenches, absently tracing the intricate magical circuits carved into its surface. The temple's ambient light shifted, casting dancing shadows across the ancient tools and implements.
"I've never read about phoenixes or hydras in any of the books," Owen continued his train of thought. "And chimeras? Those definitely don't exist in this world as far as i know." He picked up a crystal sphere from the workbench, turning it over in his hands before setting it back down with a sigh.
The mention of mythical beasts brought another possibility to mind. "Ice dragons..." Owen shuddered despite the temple's comfortable temperature. The legends (and one of the books GRRM had written) spoke of creatures far more terrifying than their fire-breathing cousins - larger, deadlier, and infinitely more ancient.
"Even if I could find one, taking it down alone would be suicide, at least as i am right now," he said, shaking his head. "For all I know, they hunt in packs. The last thing I need is to end up as a frozen statue in some forgotten corner of the North or the shivering sea….maybe i can…."
Owen stopped in his tracks, his golden circuits pulsing beneath his skin. A thought struck him - if this truly was Solomon's temple, then perhaps...
"Storage room," he called out to the air.
The temple responded instantly. The marble floor beneath his feet rippled like water, and the world blurred around him. When his vision cleared, Owen found himself in a vast chamber that stretched beyond his sight. Row upon row of shelves towered into the darkness above, each laden with artifacts of unimaginable power.
He walked slowly through the aisles, passing countless magical items. Ancient tomes bound in materials that seemed to shift and change beneath his gaze lined entire sections. Staffs of varying designs stood in ornate racks, their crystalline heads gleaming with contained power. Blades of every description hung on the walls, their edges catching the light in ways that defied natural law.
Owen's circuits hummed stronger as he approached the jewelry section. Display cases stretched before him, filled with rings, necklaces, and other ornaments that radiated magical energy. Each piece bore the unmistakable mark of Solomon's craftsmanship - perfect in both form and function.
His heart raced as he searched. The Ten Rings of Solomon were legendary even among legendary artifacts. Given to the king by God himself, they granted absolute authority over magecraft - the power to control, negate, or amplify any magical working. With such tools, Owen's newly awakened circuits would have no equal.
Finally, he spotted them. In a large glass case, nestled on a plush cushion of deep purple velvet, lay ten rings of extraordinary beauty. Each was crafted from gold that seemed to hold starlight within its metal, set with gems that pulsed with inner fire. The very air around the case thrummed with contained power.
Owen reached for the case, his fingers trembling with anticipation. Then he saw it - a small note attached to the glass in elegant script:
"Only One"
He froze, his hand hovering inches from the case's surface. The two words seemed to mock him, transforming his excitement into frustrated confusion.
"What?! Why the hell am i only allowed…one…ohhhhh."
Owen stared at the note, his initial frustration melting into understanding. The rings weren't just jewelry - each one was a magical reactor of immense power. Solomon, with his divine gift of infinite perfect circuits, could harness all ten simultaneously. But for someone like Owen, even with his thousands of newly awakened perfect circuits, attempting to use more than one would be catastrophic and no doubt lethal for him.
As he studied the rings more closely, the Temple's knowledge flowed into his mind, revealing the true nature of each artifact:
The first ring, set with a deep blue sapphire, controlled the element of water in all its forms. From creating storms to freezing oceans, its power over liquid was absolute. The second ring, bearing an emerald that seemed to contain a forest within, commanded nature itself - growth, decay, and the very essence of life.
The Third, A ruby ring promised mastery over fire, while one set with a diamond offered control of earth and stone. The Fourth Ring would allow you to create portals, warp space, and manipulate spatial dimensions.
The fifth ring, adorned with a black opal that shimmered with countless colors, granted dominion over wind and sky. The sixth, A golden topaz ring governed time itself, though not in the grand way of true time travel - rather, it could accelerate or slow time in limited areas.
The seventh ring, set with an amethyst, ruled over the realm of spirits and souls. Next to it lay an eighth ring of alexandrite that shifted between green and red, its power focused on transformation and change. The ninth, bearing a pearl that gleamed with inner light, commanded healing and restoration.
But it was the tenth ring that drew Owen's attention most strongly. Set with a stone he'd never seen before - a gem that seemed to contain a universe within its facets - this ring served as a pure magical reactor. Unlike its siblings, it held no specific domain. Instead, it amplified and refined magical energy, turning even the weakest spell into something extraordinary.
Owen's circuits pulsed beneath his skin as he contemplated his choice. Each ring offered incredible power, but he could choose only one. The pure reactor would be the obvious choice for most mages - raw power was always useful. But Owen wasn't most mages, and he already had access to other sources of magical energy through the Celestial Forge.
Owen opened the glass case with reverent care, his fingers trembling slightly as he reached for the ninth ring. The pearl seemed to pulse with inner radiance as he lifted it from its velvet nest, responding to his touch. As he slipped it onto his finger, the gem flared with brilliant light.
The effect was immediate and overwhelming. His thousands of newly awakened circuits blazed anew, but this time the power flowing through them was perfectly controlled. Where before his magical energy had been like a rushing river threatening to overflow its banks, now it moved with purpose and precision. The ring acted as both conduit, provider and regulator, allowing his vast reserves of power to settle into a deep, calm ocean of potential.
Owen flexed his fingers, watching golden light dance beneath his skin in perfectly ordered patterns. The ring's power integrated seamlessly with his circuits, enhancing their natural function while providing a framework of control he hadn't even realized he needed. He could feel the healing energies coursing through him, ready to be shaped and directed at will.
"Study room," he called out, relieved to find his voice steady despite the tremendous power now at his disposal.
The storage chamber blurred around him, resolving into the familiar comfort of the study with its plush divan and well-stocked bookshelves. Owen settled back onto the comfortable seat, pulling the "creation of familiars" tome closer while setting aside the book on "elemental magic" for later study. A smile played across his lips as he imagined the possibilities this new gift from the forge offered - not just for himself, but for preparing the North for what lay ahead, imagining himself raining down unquenchable flames on the night king and his army of wights
Without further delay, he opened the tome and began to read, his newly stabilized circuits humming contentedly as he absorbed the ancient knowledge of the king of magecraft.