Chapitre 31: Mudd
He sat back, they were camping out for the night. His eyes ran through the nearby forest. Marq was already in his tent, Aerion however was thinking. It had been near seven moons since the beginning of his journey.
He'd only recently turned six-and-ten.
His mind went back to the visions, Rhaenyras death, the child's murder, Garon Blackwood. They all pointed to a gruesome future.
The images haunted him—the blood, the flames, the scarred dragon. The sight of Rhaenyra, once proud and alive, reduced to no more than bloody body parts scattered upon the ground. And the child…Gods, the child. How could he stop it? What part did he play in this? The dreams were like pieces of a puzzle that refused to fit together.
His gaze wandered up, briefly seeing glimpses of the moon through the thick foliage of the forest above. He effortlessly slipped out of his own body, into a nearby deer. Quickly he scanned the nearby area before his mind slipped from the deer to a nearby frog.
He checked the area once again, searching for bandits and the like. His crow was also watching and would warn if he saw anyone like usual, but Aerion still preferred doing his own checks.
Usually they stayed in Inns, but sometimes they were just too far away. He slipped back into his own body, flexing his fingers.
Sometimes, after slipping into another creature's skin, Aerion would pause, stretching his fingers or toes, trying to remember the sensation of being…himself, he feared he might lose himself one day.
Right now they were just north of Riverrun, the seat of House Tully. They'd visited the keep not too long ago, the light grey castle was beautiful, a massive moat surrounding it.
They were also just south of Blackwood lands, his eyes flicked uneasily to the shadows between the trees. Being this close to their lands made his skin prickle, he had made enemies here.
The vision of Garon's scarred visage seemed to bounce through his head, the vision of the man in the future only increasing his worry about the man. Aerion sighed, dropping his head back against the log.
—-
The foliage of the trees above only let though bright rays of the blazing sun.
They rode side by side, his horse trotting gently down a downtrodden path, they were cutting north through Blackwood lands. They were heading to Oldstones, once the castle of House Mudd, the old River Kings. The castle was long abandoned, it was in a worse state than even Harrenhall.
He ran his hand through his hair, his sword jostling on his hip. His eyes flicked to the sky, his crow lazily circling them. The ride so far had been dull, and quiet. Though Aerion much preferred that to the other possibilities.
This was Blackwood land afterall, he's sure they would object to his presence. Marq turned his head to the younger teenager. "Aerion, I must admit I have ulterior motives for visiting Oldstone" the older man admitted.
Aerions head turned, curiosity present in his eyes. "Truly?" He asked, his eyes narrowing, his mind rolling through the alternative reasons for visiting. Marq had originally mentioned Oldstones quite a while ago.
He mentioned how he'd always been fascinated with the stories of the River Kings, the Mudds had fascinating history so Aerion believed it quite easily.
Marq nodded "I have long thought on the castle, it has been looted more times than I can count, yet" he paused as his hands fumbled around with his pouch pulling out a ripped piece of yellow parchment, offering it to the bastard.
Aerion eyed the parchment, grabbing it gently as he looked over it. "My family have had this, generations" Marq mentioned. "It speaks of an old artefact hidden within Oldstones." Marq revealed, his voice oddly tense as Aerions eyes ran over the parchment.
"That's a myth" Aerion responded, stories of the old River Kings had spread across the realms long ago, and when they fell many had spread rumours of secret buried treasures.
But that is done for all dynasty's, myths even now of secret Targaryen dragon eggs hidden around the kingdom were told to young hopeful children.
"The writing proves it true," Marq insisted, his tone firm. Aerion shrugged, not truly believing him.
"Anybody could have written this" he rejected, the parchment eluded to a small vault underneath the castle, it mentioned in neat writing that during a siege of the castle that the Prince had ordered men to hide valuable treasures beneath the castle.
"That is merely the copy" Marq responded quickly "At Acorn Hall we have the original" Marq said eagerly, Aerion eyed the older teenager in slight surprise, he rarely ever seemed this excited.
"Oldstones fell almost six-thousand years ago" Aerion countered "The original would have long turned to dust" Marq only seemed to smirk at his words.
"It sits in my father's solar," he shot back. "House Smallwood's kept it safe for generations, and still, it reads as clear as the day it was writ."
Aerions brows furrowed, that shouldn't be possible. Yet his mind reminded him of the rumours about the River Kings, they were said to have long delved into the deepest wells of magic.
Or House Smallwood were simply lying.
"If you've had it for so long, surely others have long found this treasure if it exists" Aerion brought up, Marq only smirking in response.
"No-one has found it, yet" Marq said with certainty as they rode along the downtrodden path. Doubt crossed Aerions face, but he simply shrugged.
"And it will stay that way" Aerion commented as they continued their journey.
—-
He eyed the large castle, they had long passed Blackwood land. The sun was setting, the sky a cascading orange. The castle was a ruin, its crumbling walls casting shadows over a moat of stagnant, muddy water.
The moat likely held the bones of Andal invaders, their stories lost to time. They crossed the crumbling stone bridge warily, eyeing the structure carefully as they walked across, their horses tied up and armour left behind.
The castle used to have multiple towers that peaked into the sky, they had long ago crumbled. Aerion wasn't sure it was safe to enter—the whole structure looked ready to collapse with a single push.
The great wooden doors, once strong enough to withstand sieges, now lay broken and rotting, offering no resistance to anyone who wandered in.
"You go first" Aerion said to the older teenager "ill keep watch" he offered. Marq nodded, barely seeming to hear what Aerion said as he cautiously walked through the front entrance.
But Aerion had his own reasons for hanging back.
"Keep your sword ready" Aerion warned afterall it was very easy to get into the abandoned castle, who's to say wildlife, smallfolk, even bandits were using the castle as shelter.
He heard the faint sound of ringing steel, Marq had clearly listened to his warning. He eyed the castle wall behind him before he lowered himself sitting back against the walls, his crow perched gently atop a tower above him.
The bird already knew what to do, keep watch.
Aerion effortlessly expanded his senses, seamlessly slipping into the mind of a rat, it was time to really search this castle. See if those myths held any water. Effortlessly he scuttled through a tiny crevice, spending a few minutes futilely searching.
He slipped out of the rat's body, now inhabiting the body of a small grass snake as he instinctively slithered further into the crumbled castle. His eyes flicking over a servants hall, only lit by the sun shining through small cracks in the walls.
He flicked his tongue out, tasting the rot in the air with a wince as he continued searching, his body fitting through gaps too small for men to enter as his scales effortlessly slid against the dusty ground.
Then he slipped into the body of a spider he could sense beneath him somehow, his multiple eyes widening at the sight he came across. He was below the floor level, his eyes focused on a flickering glow emitting from a small crack in a wall.
Quickly he scuttled over, curiosity and worry burning through him. This definitely wasn't sunlight, the glow was most definitely from a torch. There were most likely people living here, he'd need to find out if they were bandits before he could return.
So he scuttled through the gap, his multiple eyes widening in shock at the sight, his heart skipping a beat as he entered an empty room. Dust not coating a singular spot of the room, torchlight dancing across the stone walls.
And on a podium in the centre of the room stood a shining, spiky bronze circlet. Engraved runes covering its form, the River Princes circlet seemed to call for him, magic roiling of its form.
His crow cawed, panicked and loud and Aerion felt it echo and tear through his very soul as his eyes—his real eyes opened wide, his human body greeting him once more.
Sat atop a horse, a familiar scarred Blackwood stared at him scathingly, three lightly armoured men on horses behind. His long raven feather cloak flapped behind him as his hand rested on his sword hilt.
"Skinstealer"
—-
Thoughts? Lmk
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone