Chapter 4: Chapter 4: The Cost of Magic and Power: The Grind
Daemon Snow
72AC
It's been a week since the meeting in the Stark vault, and the promised meeting with Lord Stark still hasn't taken place. My burns were nearly healed, and I realized that the slow healing was due to their magical nature. The day after the burns, I was moved back to my room, and my grandfather announced that I was suffering from a contagious sickness, forbidding anyone from visiting me except him.
Wearing clothes over my upper body was painful due to the healing burns, and I stuck to consuming average adult meals during that week. The only visitor I had besides my grandfather was my uncle Rickon. He appeared frustrated during his visit, and I later realized that my grandfather had informed him about some of the recent events. Initially, I was angry about this, but upon reflection, I understood the importance of preparing Rickon, as the next Lord Stark, for what lay ahead.
After a week of planning, I still hadn't developed any solid plans due to the uncertainty of my grandfather's reactions and potential changes. The one thing I was determined to do was share my Power of advanced healing and biology with him. Keeping my grandfather alive for as long as possible is very much essential for my own ease of life.
The meeting.
I entered the Stark vault and found my grandfather poring over ancient parchments. When he noticed me, he nodded toward an empty chair, and I respectfully took a seat.
"Thank you, Papa," I said, trying to be charming.
He smiled at me and spoke, "Daemon, it's been a week, and you've recovered remarkably well from burns that would have been slow to heal for anyone else. As I've been researching ancient history, I've found no mention of such remarkable power. You mentioned that you will live to see the Long Night, and I am intrigued. Now, tell me the truth. Last week, I entertained your curiosities and shared truths known only to a select few. Now it's your turn."
I nodded respectfully and replied, "I am grateful for your guidance, Papa. It opened my eyes and humbled me from my arrogance of knowledge. The source of my power stems from a dream I had when I was injured. I believe I was blessed by the Old Gods and the 14 Valyrian gods to survive and to aid humanity during the Second Long Night, which I predict will arrive in about 225 years. With enhanced healing, I am capable of surviving anything given enough time, and I can share my power through blood. Anyone who consumes it will heal injuries and gradually become better themselves. The improvement is permanent, although the healing effect only persists as long as the power remains within their body. This revelation came to me in that dream."
My grandfather appeared intrigued and remarked, "I see. You believe you have been bestowed with this power to prepare for the upcoming Long Night and the monsters that will arise. It's almost as unbelievable as the prophecy that the Long Night will return."
As I observed my grandfather, I could see that he was deep in thought about the implications of my announcement. Interrupting his thoughts, I asked, "Why do you find it unbelievable, Grandfather? You are aware of the survival of our ancient enemies of Ice and Fire, so why should the return of the Long Night be considered improbable by you of all people?"
Looking earnestly at him, I continued, "Grandfather, I want to train. My mind is extraordinary, and I am determined to help strengthen the North. I want to share my blood with you to ensure your health and longevity. You must stay strong and alive for at least another 50 years. My blood could help you achieve that, assuming no major injuries or deadly diseases intervene."
"50 more years? Surely you jest," my grandfather replied with a wistful smile. "I am already 41, and few in the North reach such old age. Winter will come for the old, and the young must endure. I made peace with my mortality long time ago. However, for your sake and for the North's sake, I will strive to stay alive as long as possible."
"Long Night is improbable for me because for the last 8000 years they were there and everyone including us were doing nothing but preparing." my grandfather continued. "The Red Demon is stronger now than ever, and even the Night's King would tread cautiously around him. I struggle to see how it will be possible for such a catastrophic event to occur again in 225 years."
"Papa, I don't know what will change in the years ahead. I only have disjointed visions about the intervening years. I'm sorry," I expressed earnestly. "I will do my best to strengthen the North as much as possible."
"It's not your fault, Daemon. It's the Old Gods showing you these disjointed visions and they are to blame," my grandfather replied with a loving smile. Guilt for using such a loving man briefly enveloped me for the first time in this life, but I quickly pushed it aside.
I nodded in acceptance, but suddenly a question struck me, one that I hadn't thought to ask last week. I stared at the fireplace with a nervous frown, feeling as though it were observing me. My grandfather noticed my sudden unease and began to speak, but I interrupted him.
"Papa, is the fire safe? Does the Red Demon have a presence in all fires and see through them? How did he attack me all the way from Essos?" I blurted out anxiously.
"Don't worry, Daemon," my grandfather reassured me. "Fire is indeed a medium through which the Red Demon can operate, but not all fires are under his control or surveillance. Winterfell is protected from scrying by any means, including Weirwood, Dragonglass, or even fire itself. The Red Demon has developed his stolen Greenseer abilities by merging them with fire instead of Weirwood trees, but even he cannot focus on every fire in this world. Any person with even a hint of sensitivity will feel his presence when he is scrying."
He continued, "Even the visions he sends to his sworn slaves are not live scrying. The only reason he was present here last week was because the power in your blood attracted him, and he came to personally consume it before it could be lost to him. If your blood comes into contact with fire, be sure to use the power yourself, and the Red Demon will not even be aware of it."
I calmed down, reassured that the fire would not try to harm me in my sleep. Over the past week, I had been contemplating my mission here, and I was certain that both the Others and the Red Demon were enemies of the Being and therefore my targets. However, I had no idea how to defeat a bodiless Fire Demon enveloped in sacrificial energy and the faith of millions of people. The only solution that came to mind was fulfilling the Pact, which would banish the Red Demon from this world and eliminate his influence, thus achieving the mission of ridding the Great Enemy from here. My first step was to act against the only enemy I was certain of and begin my preparations.
"Papa, thank you for reassuring me and saving me from many worrying nights," I expressed gratefully. "I want to start preparing for the coming conflicts. I am confident that if I share my power with you, you will survive for another 50 years. Similarly, I wish to bless the castle inhabitants with my power. Winter is coming, and illnesses like fevers and other ailments will afflict our people. Let them be blessed by my power."
"How will this be done, Daemon? This must be kept secret, and only my heir should be informed," my grandfather replied with curiosity.
"I can manage it. I just need access to the storerooms. I will add my blood to the water and wine. Although it will be diluted, the healing properties will be sufficient for them to benefit. Additionally, I will add my blood to the wells and water sources used by the people of Wintertown," I explained. "In the future, I foresee fevers and famine after the coming winter. The population will be suffering across the North. By surviving these diseases and hunger, their bodies will adapt and become more resilient. The next generation will be stronger than the current one. By the time of the Long Night, their bodies will be incredibly powerful."
My grandfather listened attentively, clearly intrigued by my plans to bless, and strengthen our people secretly, ensuring their survival and resilience in the face of the challenges ahead.
He sighed heavily and said, "Famine? Bloody hell. We've lost the fertile lands of the New Gift, and the Night's Watch is deteriorating further day by day. The smallfolk living there are leaving in increasing numbers, affecting our grain stores. The Lords of the North and the Night's Watch write to me almost every moon, complaining about it."
I could see the annoyance and frustration growing on my grandfather's face. He continued, "I curse your stupid grandmother every day for being arrogant enough to disregard my brother's advice not to give away our lands. We have ruled these lands for 8000 years. Our sweat and blood are in every part of this land, and we know what works and what doesn't. The Good Queen was too idealistic in her beliefs to value our opinions. Stupid lizard."
I couldn't help but laugh heartily at my usually stern grandfather cursing and complaining like a child. Suddenly, a great idea struck me—a way to get one over my grandmother, who had insulted my deceased mother and never even held me, her first grandchild. It was ironic and a source of amusement for me to hear that the Good Queen was considered a perfect role model for motherhood by the Faith. I laughed hard that day in my room, knowing the sheer disregard she had for her own children, let alone her poor grandchildren. The fate of Saera, Viserra, Gael was examples for her selfishness. Even here, early on, she was proving what a great grandmother she was...
"Papa, I have a possible solution for reclaiming the New Gift and that may put them back into your hands, but it's borderline treasonous and will require careful planning. It will take time," I explained.
Intrigued, he looked at me and replied, "Well, let me hear it."
"Well, the first part of the plan involves issuing a secret private order during the upcoming gathering of lords at my uncle's marriage. Order that no more complaints regarding food shortages, migrating smallfolk from the New Gift, wildling raids, or Night's Watch desertions should be reported to you. Instruct everyone to send their grievances by raven directly to King's Landing, specifically addressed to the Conciliator and the Good Queen," I explained. "They won't be able to ignore these complaints, as they are trying to maintain the goodwill they built with the Lords of the Realm after the tyranny of my Great Uncle Maegor and need to be respected, or at least seen as more than just being rulers only because of dragons. The King is the Protector of the Realm, and the Night's Watch issue is outside the realm; therefore, it's the King's problem, not yours as Lord Paramount of the North. Moreover, the problem arose because of the Kings Ruling of sending prisoners to the Nights Watch and become compounded due to the arrogant misuse of Crown's power by the Good Queen against the advice of the then Lord Paramount of the North and thus exceeding the authority of Lord Paramount to make decisions now."
My grandfather looked at me as if I were a madman, clearly taken aback by the audacity of my proposal. The weight of the situation was clear, and I could sense his concern mingled with a hint of reluctant intrigue.
"That is exceptionally cruel, my son. And I love it. I know how much loud and annoying the northern lords can be and it will be truly vexing for the small council. You are brilliant, Daemon." my grandfather exclaimed, a hint of admiration in his voice.
"This should be done for at least 6 years, Da. I want to be at least 10 years old before we proceed with the borderline treason part. The idea will comply with every law of the king, but in practice, it will clearly go against the Queen's order regarding our lands. However, she won't be able to overtly make a move against House Stark for this manoeuvre, and any punishment will essentially fall on me. I'll gladly declare that the idea originated from me to get back at her for her slight towards me and mine," I explained confidently to my grandfather.
The smile that had graced my grandfather's face since I began explaining the plan vanished instantly. "Daemon, I don't want you to face punishment if this plan backfires. We need to consider other options, and you haven't explained how the treason part would unfold," he said with concern.
"It will be okay, grandfather. I will reveal the details of the treasonous part later. There's still time for that, and I won't be here for any punishment if it's truly severe. I can run away to the wilds of the North, which would help me further develop my powers. If it's just a whipping, it's nothing —I'll heal within days and it will only help me adapt more," I reassured him, determined to convince him of the importance of strengthening the North.
My grandfather still looked unsettled, but I decided I will press him later on this matter, knowing the strength of the North was crucial for my own future.
"Yes, we can discuss it further in the future, but the idea about redirecting complaints is actually great. I will begin implementing it. Now, what other ideas do you have?" My Grandfather asked me.
I replied eagerly, ready to contribute more to our strategic plans for House Stark's future.
"In my dreams, I saw two food items that could greatly benefit us: potatoes and rice that can be grown in swamps. I suggest financing a great voyage, involving the Manderley and Braavosi. Venture as far as Yi Ti to acquire these products and seeds. They will thrive in our cold climate and improve our food situation significantly," I explained enthusiastically.
"Next, we should acquire as many farm animals as possible. With regular intake of my blood, they will survive any winter or sickness. Daily consumption of my blood will be beneficial for them and help them endure harsh cold during winter," I continued.
"These are the basic ideas I have for now. I will have more to contribute after learning more about specific situations and receiving a basic education," I concluded, eager to see our plans come to fruition for the betterment of House Stark.
Grandfather fell silent, lost in deep thought. After a moment, he spoke, "Well, these ideas are intriguing. Acquiring the farm animals can be done immediately. However, the great voyage requires careful planning, resources and no one has done this before. Why specifically involve the Braavosi?"
"I know that Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, has not yet achieved fame for his Great Voyages. His journeys to Essos have only just begun, and few besides me know of their success. That's why I suggested embarking on such a voyage. Braavos was my choice because, among the Free Cities, it remains less powerful and boasts efficient shipbuilding capabilities—being the nearest to White Harbor makes it an ideal partner. If they provide the ships, and we the seamen and capable warg scouts with the captain of the Voyage, preferably our men, it could be a mutually beneficial arrangement. However, I'm aware it will be costly, and I'm unsure whether you have any secret wargs under your control."
My grandfather chuckled at my question before replying, "Your guess is correct. The Starks have maintained a small force of wargs among their sworn men, but currently, there is no one in it. We'll have to build it up from scratch. However, I can call upon the Warg force maintained by the Reeds for this journey. They must have at least one bird of prey scout. As for expenses, our funds are limited, and I'm hesitant to touch our reserves. The liquid gold is quite tight, although there's a sum of 4000 gold dragons that belong to you," he finished slyly.
"What? Mine? How?" I was taken aback, surprised to learn I had such a significant amount of gold in my name.
"1000 gold dragons is the annual sum the royal family sends for your upkeep. I haven't touched it since your care is my own responsibility, and it has been accumulating," he explained.
I was astonished by the amount. "That's a huge sum, isn't it?" I asked.
"Yes, the royal family's extravagance and arrogance know no bounds. But in this case, I accepted the funds gladly," my grandfather replied.
"You can use it, Papa. Consider it an interest-free loan that you can repay with the profits from the voyage. I have designed special ships that will be essential for the success of the journey. I know you are a warg—can't we enlist other wargs with birds as lookouts to watch for pirates or ambushes? This would increase our chances of success," I suggested, eager to contribute to our plans with innovative strategies.
My grandfather was intrigued by my suggestions and decided to table them for later discussion with Lord Manderly.
"This is all well and good, son, but you've avoided talking about the future," my grandfather continued sternly, scrutinizing my face for any signs of hesitation or evasion. "Shouldn't we try to inform your other grandfather? His family is known for magic and dragon dreams. For some godforsaken reason, he rides a Dragon, even with that, if he doesn't believe you, then he's a fool. Why haven't you mentioned anything regarding the Royal Family? It's more than just your father's anger toward you and the slights against House Stark regarding the New Gift. We need to consider all aspects, not just a strong North."
I swallowed nervously, anticipating his question. Whatever grudge my grandfather held against the Targaryens paled in comparison to his duty as Lord Stark to prepare for the Long Night. I dreaded this conversation, knowing my answer stemmed from pure selfishness. I didn't want to alter the Targaryens' fate, and if history played out as it should, I hoped to claim a dragon by 101 AC. This ambition could only be realized after my father and uncle passing in 92 AC and 101 AC respectively, or if existing dragonriders became too old or turned against each other to pursue the Bastard who claimed a dragon and flew away. However, if circumstances didn't align, claiming a dragon could become dangerous, potentially leading to kinslaying by my own hands. Despite these thoughts, I took a deep breath, preparing to address his concerns.
"Papa, my father's family considers themselves above the rules of gods and men. They believe they are almost divine, but the reality is that they are mortal like any other men. If they were to discover my powers, they might attempt to kill or imprison me, treating me as a mere resource to be exploited forever. Even if I only mention my dragon dreams, they may not believe me, and if they do, they would likely summon me south and keep a close eye on me. This would inevitably lead to the discovery of my healing powers when I survive their inevitable attempts to poison me, likely orchestrated by the Baratheons. Therefore, I am not willing to engage with them until I am in a position of power. I will not go south until I am confident in my personal strength and capable of surviving and escaping even dragons."
My grandfather was pensive, considering my reasoning. "I understand your concerns, but we must still try," he said. "I won't send a raven or anything like that. We will inform them when they summon you south."
I immediately agreed, confident that such a scenario would only unfold if every other Targaryen were dead and I stood as the sole claimant.
"You mentioned improving your personal power. What do you mean by that, and how?" Grandfather asked me curiously.
"Well, Papa, you remember how badly I was burned by the magical fire? Next time, I won't be burned so easily. I will still feel the fire, but the burns will be less severe, unless the Red Demon uses more power or I'm exposed for longer than my resistance allows. Similarly, I can build resistance to other things. Consume a small amount of poison, and I will become immune to it over time. If I sustain a sword cut, the next time, more force will be required to cut the same place. My plan is to become the 'unburnt' when I stand in front of a dragon for the first time," I explained.
My grandfather regarded me with a look of awe, as if he were gazing upon a god or witnessing the Builder himself.
"That is a godly gift, Daemon. And you're saying you can share this adaptation and the healing ability?"
"Yes, Papa, I don't know the effectiveness, but over time it will be very beneficial. Our guards will become faster and stronger than others. The major boon is preserving our loyal people from winter, diseases, and other threats," I explained. "I also want to learn magical arts from you, Grandfather. Warging and greensight, if you allow me. I aim to become the greatest warg the world has ever seen after my training."
Grandfather chuckled at my ambitious boast and then sighed. "I can train you in warging, but I am not a greenseer myself. I'll need to contact and summon the Reeds to see if the next generation has a greenseer among them. It has been 200 years since the last known greenseer. It's important to verify this history once again, as the last verification was performed by a Stark greenseer."
I was intrigued. "Verification?"
"Yes, Daemon. Greenseers, once they master their abilities, verify known history using the Weirwood as a conduit. The ancient Starks didn't solely rely on kings' heirs or written words, which can be misinterpreted. Instead, every greenseer born after mastering their ability would verify history through the Weirwood," Grandfather explained.
I was impressed by the determination and ingenuity to preserve knowledge. "That's quite a determined approach."
"Yes, it is, Daemon. Now let's conclude this meeting and rest for now," Grandfather said, signalling the end of our discussion.
5 Moons Later
It was the time of my uncle's marriage to Lady Gilliane Glover. She was beautiful in a northern way, soon to be my new aunt. Initially indifferent towards me, after two weeks in my presence, she warmed up and became friendly—perhaps influenced by how the Lord of Winterfell and the heir treated me as a full member of House Stark. The only exception was my second uncle, Bennard. He was a prickly man without a hint of magical talent. According to my grandfather, Uncle Rickon was talented in both warging and wielding Ice's powers, whereas Uncle Bennard excelled as a swordsman. I suspected he was envious, unable to wield Ice despite his swordsmanship.
Today marked the arrival of the Reeds, and Lord Reed was bringing his seven-year-old son, Aethan Reed. My grandfather believed Aethan was a greenseer in training, given the challenging journey he undertook at such a young age. I eagerly anticipated meeting the "bog devils" and learning more about greensight. Over the last five moons, my grandfather and uncle had taught me the basics of warging and demonstrated their skills, sparking my enthusiasm for learning. Witnessing their mastery prompted my own warging abilities to develop—I could now slowly enter the mind of a rat, though I lacked control. Though daily practice was improving my skills consistently.
My focus shifted primarily to warging for my magical studies, while my physical training saw significant progress. I began running after cats while carrying a shield I'd taken from the armoury. The guards initially tried to stop me, but Lord Stark's silent approval allowed me to claim the shield as my own. On the first day, I could only drag it behind me for five minutes before nearly fainting. I then enlisted a guard's help to move the shield to my room. Additionally, my room now housed various herbs from the Wolfswood. My grandfather had contacted a woods witch who provided small poisonous plants, which I ate piece by piece, masking the taste with meat. Even after five moons of this regimen, the thought of its taste still make me want to vomit.
Following the Red Demon incident, my grandfather confiscated my stolen knife and warned against cutting myself without his supervision. Increased security and my grandfather's rat spies prevented me from acquiring another knife, but during visits to the Wine and water store with my grandfather, I trained to withstand knife and sword slashes. I began with my palms and progressed to my shoulders, and within five moons, my blood replenishing capacity had increased. Now, I could lose almost a liter of blood and survive with sufficient rest. I recognized that the most immediate threat to my life was injury from swords or blood loss, so I focused on increasing my survivability, even with wounds to non-major areas like the brain or heart. I decided to protect these vital areas with armour and a helmet when I am in battle, as I was not foolish enough to risk injuring them like the rest of my body.
I have discovered an absolute best way of training to increase many things at the same time. I have discovered the magic of hot springs of Winterfell. The day my uncle took me to them for teaching me swimming is the day I cursed my own shortsightedness. The hot spring situated in Godswood was the best thing happened to me. Even though it is called hot spring it is almost a lake and flow in to the moat at the end of the Godswood inside Winterfell. The Godswood itself is acres of forest that has not seen an axe for millennia. It is thick with weirwoods and other trees and not accessible except for the Starks and their guests with permission. The Godswood is near the First Keep and the Crypts of Winterfell. the hot spring is shallow at the banks and gets very deep as one move from the banks. After I inquired about the dept of the lake, my grandfather informed me that no one knows the dept as it gets hotter and hotter it gets deeper and the stories of Starks getting burned due to the heat. In only 1 week I relearned to swim, my previous knowledge and my learning talent picking it up from my uncle or Grandfather also helped immensely.
After mastering swimming, I proposed a training plan to my grandfather, who reluctantly approved, provided he was present to ensure my safety. Over the last three moons, I've trained twice every three days. The plan involves tying a rope around my waist and swimming from the banks, going as deep underwater as possible. This routine allows me to enhance my heat resistance, breath-holding ability, and overall durability against the increasing water pressure with depth. If I can't swim up, I tug the loose rope, signalling my grandfather to pull me out.
Though I haven't yet tested my body's durability, I've noticed significant improvements in heat resistance and breath control. This progress became evident when I could comfortably sit in front of the blazing fireplace for almost half an hour. The smoke, initially a challenge, has become more bearable over these five moons, making it easier to breathe in the fiery environment.
My thoughts settled as the Reeds entered the courtyard. They bowed to lord stark and guest rights were exchanged. Lord Reed was very short and in first view looked like an overgrown 16-year-old. There was someone short near him who was near my height, which was ridiculous as Aethan reed was supposed to be 7 names day old. I really hoped that his magical talent is not similar to his height. Lord Stark introduced me to them and I was asked to escort them to their guest quarters, a harsh glare from my grandfather told me not to ask anything sensitive out in the open. I escorted them into their quarters discussing my life here and nothing more. As I left them, I wondered when I could learn from them.
It had been five days since the wedding concluded, and the lords had already begun their departures, their journeys across the vast North taking several weeks. Finally, the time had come for the meeting with the Reeds, and the chosen location was the Godswood. I welcomed this choice, knowing that currently, there was no peeping tom in the weirwood like Brynden Rivers.
I stood with my grandfather, waiting as Lord Reed entered and bowed to us, well to Lord Stark his liege lord I guess, but I like to think some of the respect was for me too.
"Lord Stark, it has been a surprise seeing your order to escort my son here for training someone in Greensight. He is only seven and discovering his abilities thorough meditation after unlocking it, the only help I could give is to tell how to make the Weirwood sap that must be ingested to unlock your abilities and connect with the Old Gods." Lord Reed said without any questioning from our part.
"Oh?" Lord Stark looked crestfallen, and I feared this reaction. "It has been many years since the last Stark Greenseer, and the only information I could find was what you told me."
Upon hearing this confirmation, I felt a deep disappointment. I had been hoping for at least a book written in the old tongue or some sort of guide detailing the secret training methods. It appeared that mastering greensight was an individualistic journey of self-discovery. However, I am a cheater and I saw Aethan Reed looking like a child in search of a friend during our recent Knife practice together. I decided I would be his friend. Perhaps by practicing together, I could glean something from him with my unique talent. After all, something is always better than nothing.
"Grandfather, wouldn't it be better if Aethan stays here for fostering now? He could be under your teachings, and we could both help each other with our greensight abilities," I suggested hopefully.
My grandfather scrutinized me closely, as if trying to read my thoughts. He was wondering if it was appropriate for Aethan to learn about my abilities. I nodded in confirmation, and my grandfather turned to Lord Reed.
"Lord Reed, I request you to consider this. Aethan will be my ward and foster son, and I will teach him the ways of the North. I understand he is your heir, but this arrangement will be beneficial for both of our houses," my grandfather asked politely.
Lord Reed bowed low with barely hidden happiness. "Lord Stark, your request is our command. My house has protected our southern border for the North for millennia, and the Reeds have answered any call and order from our Kings. I am truly honoured that you have selected my son to be taken as a ward. I agree to your request, but I ask that after 5 years, he be allowed to travel to the Neck and stay there for 6 moons. The age of fourteen is important for the Crannogmen, a time when we learn the ways of the Neck. I would also be glad to host your grandson if you so wishes."
I was intrigued by that idea. Staying in the most dangerous place in Westeros for the uninitiated would be excellent training for me. My resistance to poisons and diseases would get a thorough workout, which would be essential for me later on. Even now, the only real poison I had access to was Sweetsleep from the maester. I still didn't have a clue why a maester appointed by the crown for tax collection and accounting purposes would possess Sweetsleep. When informed to my grandfather, he advised me to leave the maester alone and assured me that he was being watched carefully.
I want to accept myself, but I will not overstep my Grandfather in front of a lord again. My grandfather looked at me, and I nodded slightly.
"Lord Reed, I accept. It will be a good experience for him to see the North," my grandfather said.
Lord Reed was ecstatic, as his house had become closer to the Starks than in centuries. My grandfather decided to give me the Weirwood sap only after I turned 6.
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Blackwolf77
Blackwolf77 Next,Time Skip of 2 years and the unlocking of greensight along with a vision. Look Early access of 3 chapters: https://www.patreon.com/collection/536990?view=expanded
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