Bab 41: Chapter - 41
The Creator had given her a new mission.
It wasn't her first, but it carried a certain weight unlike any other. This mission was linked to the only failure that marred her otherwise immaculate record: the protection of the Creator's mate.
Although the girl had fended off her attackers herself, and the Creator had never uttered a word of blame, the truth remained.
She had been charged with the safety of his mate, and she had failed.
…
'SHE HAD FAILED!!'
That was not acceptable.
Now, this mission offered a chance at redemption.
She accepted without hesitation, for failure was something she refused to entertain again.
She would completely embrace the role of executing the Creator's vengeance.
Her task was clear: unearth the origin of the peril that had once ensnared the Creator's mate and eliminate it.
She trailed her target with the patience of a seasoned hunter. After weeks of stealthy pursuit, her target finally entered a sprawling tower. Yet, this did not deter her; it merely marked the next phase of her mission.
As her target hastened up the spiraling staircase of the ancient tower, she followed silently, invisible to all. Her movements were fluid, like a shadow gliding effortlessly along the walls, unbound and unseen. The tower's old stones echoed with the hurried steps of her quarry, yet her own passage was soundless, a mere wisp traversing the air.
Her presence was as imperceptible as the whisper of wind — she was invisible to the world, yet ever vigilant, watching every move of her target with relentless precision.
She followed her target into a large room where several men, dressed similarly and of the same age as her target, had gathered.
She listened intently as the plotters, these vermin, schemed the downfall of her Creator. As she did, a new emotion surged within her, unfamiliar and potent. This feeling had started to stir ever since she had been awakened, when the Creator endowed her with a remarkable new gift.
And what a gift it was.
She channeled the burgeoning emotion into the vast network of latent links she felt nearby. It barely took a few minutes before her swarm gathered, ready to follow her every command.
She watched her target grow restless as he heard the swarm growing louder and louder every second.
He moved cautiously towards the door, each step a quiet echo in the ominous silence, like prey unknowingly venturing into a predator's den.
Watching the dawning horror etch across the man's face as he fell to his knees brought a grim satisfaction, but the spectacle had drawn on long enough.
It was time to conclude this chapter. With a mere thought, she unleashed her swarm.
Chaos erupted in the chamber as the conspirators scrambled desperately for shelter, but there was nowhere to hide. She observed with a cold satisfaction as the swarm engulfed them, their deceitful murmurs overwhelmed by the roaring tide of her fury.
Her army was relentless, a tide of fury and precision, yet she controlled them with an iron grip. It was crucial that their wrath be directed solely at those involved in the conspiracy against her Creator. Innocents would not suffer.
For a few intense minutes, the swarm converged, a whirling vortex of vengeance.
Once she was certain that every coconspirator lay lifeless, their sinister plans forever silenced, the swarm disappeared as swiftly as it had assembled.
With her mission accomplished, she vanished without a trace, slipping away into the shadows from which she had emerged.
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The first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room as I stirred from a deep sleep.
'That was an amusing dream'. Was my first thought.
But as I fully awoke, I realized it wasn't just a product of my imagination.
I was having Warg dreams.
Exactly how that was happening, I didn't know, but I intended to find out. Later though.
More importantly, Skitter had unleashed a biblical plague, albeit briefly, upon the maesters of the Citadel. And it wasn't just directed at the one guy who had the bright idea of kidnapping Freya, but the entire council of morons who believed they could puppeteer the world from the shadows.
I had no particular sympathy for those struck down. As I considered the chaos that was sure to follow,I leaned back against the headboard, the mattress creaking slightly under my weight.
"Well... I did not see that coming," I murmured, careful to keep my voice hushed to avoid disturbing Freya's peaceful slumber beside me.
The quiet of the room seemed to amplify my thoughts, and a wry smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "That might cause some issues," I mused aloud, the words a mix of resignation and a spark of delight.
"But you know what? Let's see what the fallout is going to be and figure out what to do from there."
I didn't doubt that some might eventually piece together who was responsible, but given my distance from the scene, I was confident most would dismiss the incident as some sort of divine retribution instead of linking it back to me.
My thoughts, however, couldn't help but drift back to Skitter. I was getting that odd feeling parents get when their child does something incredibly smart and stupid at the same time.
It was baffling how she had grown into her powers—powers that, until now, I hadn't fully grasped the full extent of.
All I had done was make a few tweaks to enhance her warging abilities, thinking it prudent before sending her across the continent. It had seemed a necessary precaution, a simple adjustment.
Yet, I had never anticipated that these minor tweaks would trigger such a catastrophic chain of events.
"I just unknowingly gave Skitter the power of her namesake," I chuckled softly to myself, the irony of the situation not lost on me. Although I doubted the power was as formidable as the legendary abilities from which its name was derived, the possibility stirred a thrill within me.
But any real assessment would have to wait until Skitter returned, which could take some time. And who knows? Perhaps she would grow even stronger on her journey.
Glancing out the window, I saw Fenrir, completely oblivious to the world, lost in his dreams. An idea sparked briefly. "Maybe I should send Fenrir on a journey too."
But then I remembered that Fenrir, despite looking like a large dog, had grown more akin to a cat than anything else.
Disturbing him for anything less than food was likely to earn nothing but his ire, so I shelved that thought.
For now, my focus needed to be directed elsewhere.
Careful not to wake Freya, I slipped quietly out of the house. She deserved a day off now that I was back.
The crisp morning air invigorated my senses as I stretched my back and neck, more from habit than necessity.
In the next instant, I was flying, my form cutting through the early dawn with ease.
The flight to Winterfell took only a few minutes, a testament to my increasing speed. The town was already bustling despite the early hour, a hive of activity under the pale light of dawn.
I landed discreetly on the outskirts and made my way through the gates, greeted by the familiar faces of townsfolk whose lives intertwined with my own. Their warm welcomes were once foreign to me, but had now become a comforting routine. I offered smiles in return, pausing now and then to bestow quick bouts of healing upon those in need.
I soon found myself in the courtyard of Winterfell, where the clashing of steel drew my attention. The eldest Stark sons, Jon and Robb, were engaged in a vigorous sparring session. I watched from the sidelines, admiring their skill and the intensity of their duel. It was clear that Jon had the upper hand; his movements were sharp and calculated. Robb, in his effort to parry a particularly aggressive strike, stumbled and tumbled onto the ground, his pride bruised more than his body.
The sound of my applause broke their concentration, and they turned towards me. Jon's face lit up with recognition and a broad grin spread across his features.
"El, you're back!" he exclaimed, sheathing his sword as he approached.
"Yup, just had a quick errand to run in Dragonstone."
"But you were only gone for three days?" he asked, a hint of confusion in his voice.
"What can I say, I've gotten pretty fast recently," I said with a grin.
"El," echoed the excited chorus of the younger Stark children, who had been watching the duel from the sidelines.
Bran was the first to sprint over, his laughter ringing through the courtyard as he rushed up to me. "Look who's gotten all big," I remarked, a smile spreading across my face as I bent down to ruffle his hair, taken aback by how much he had grown since I last saw him.
Looking around, I noticed that all of them were inching closer to the ages I remembered from the stories. It was a sobering reminder of the timeline I was on, and how close things were to unfolding as they had in the tales that had first brought me to this world. Doing some quick mental calculations, I estimated it would be another two years before the royal procession headed south after the hand's death.
But that was before my intervention in the south. Given all the minds I had influenced and the events I had set in motion, I was no longer completely certain that things would proceed as they once had. Jon Arryn might not die when expected, or he might pass away much sooner. The future had become a fluid, unpredictable thing.
So, considering my luck, I surmised that it was more likely for things to kick off sooner rather than later. With this thought, I looked over the gathering of Stark children, each one a reminder of the roles they might play in the events to come. It was essential to prepare them—and myself—for whatever the future held.
I chatted with the Stark children for a while, catching up on trivial matters and enjoying their company.
"Anyway, see you kids later. I've got to go talk to your father. Any idea where I could find him?" I asked, already preparing to leave.
"He should be in his solar," Bran replied, his youthful voice clear and helpful.
I thanked him before setting off toward my destination. Having visited this place numerous times for various reasons, finding the solar was straightforward.
The guard at the door recognized me immediately and informed Lord Stark of my arrival before opening the door for me. As I stepped inside, the first thing I heard was Ned Stark's voice, laced with a hint of weary anticipation.
"Please tell me there isn't a raven heading to Winterfell from Dragonstone with another headache for me to look forward to," he said.
I let out a snort of amusement before adopting a scandalized expression. "I'll have you know, Lord Stark, I was on my best behavior," I declared, feigning indignation.
He turned, giving me the blankest expression I had ever seen. I couldn't maintain my facade any longer and burst into snickers.
"Nothing happened. I healed the princess, explored the castle a bit, and came back," I explained.
"Thank you," he acknowledged, "What did you want to talk about?"
"How do you feel about starting a school that teaches only medicine in Winterfell?"
Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
-- Power
stone