Jon's eyes danced across the yard as he walked beside his father, the man silent while they observed his younger half-brother Bran trying his best to hit Theon.
Bran was dressed in the training armour with a training sword in hand, struggling to swing the weapon in the cold weather. Theon on the other hand looked like he was nursing a headache, though the displeased frown on his face made Jon smirk.
He probably wanted to go another round with Ros, but with how Jon tired her out, he was very sure Theon could do nothing but help Ros sneak out.
"Ah, look who finally decided to wake up from his beauty sleep!" A gruff voice grunted and Jon gave a slight smirk, bowing his head to Winterfell's Master-At-Arms and one of the few that didn't care for his bastard status.
"Ser Rodrik."
"Ser Rodrik ain't gonna help you here, boy," the stout knight responded, tugging at one of his large white whiskers. "The sun is nearly at its peak and you're still snoring away like a hibernating Mormont."
"Let's not insult one of my vassals, Ser Rodrik."
"Only a joke," Rodrik replied, though Jon knew the two were joking when he saw the subtle smirk on his father's face.
"I can only hope so. Now then, Jon, we shall speak later on taking what is not yours."
"What did you take?" Rodrik asked as soon as his father left, rolling his eyes when Jon just gave a shrug.
"Nothing in the slightest, ser. It's, well, I did take a someone, not a something," Jon replied cryptically, Rodrik pausing for a few moments before he palmed his face when Jon's eyes flicked to where Theon was suffering from a hangover for a moment.
"Gods be good. It's like you boys don't care that Lady Stark could easily rip your cocks and balls off."
"Theon's? No. Mine? She'd get the rustiest and dullest knife to do so."
"That's still your father's lady wife, boy."
"Of course, merely a jest, ser Rodrik," Jon responded with an apologetic bow, though both he and Rodrik knew that he was not sincere with his apology in the slightest.
"Good. Now, for your tardiness and insulting your lord's wife, twenty around the yard."
"Armour on?"
"Armour on," Rodrik nodded, to which Jon let out a soft sigh as he walked over to the armory shed.
The guards there didn't give him more than a glance as he put on the training armour, beginning his fast jogs around the field.
'Well, this gives me time to think about what's going to happen,' In approximate one month's time, the royal family will arrive in Winterfell and that would be the point where everything kicks off.
Bran losing his legs, his father leaving for the South and getting killed, the start of War of the Five Kings. Everything started just because of King Robert visiting Winterfell,
Now, he could most definitely ask his father not to go south and stay with his family, but it was his word against that of a king who was also his father's closest friend.
Even if he did warn him, what was he supposed to say? "Sorry, Father, you should not go to the South. You'll get killed by the bastard born from the incestuous relationship between Jamie and Cersei, and a war will break out."
If he was not placed in the dungeons for his 'foolish ideas', then he most definitely would be executed for the insults levied against the royal family.
Now, he couldn't just leave his family to die, but he wouldn't mind if the Lady Stark had an unfortunate accident during the whole debacle.
'No, that's too far. As much as I loathe her, she is still my father's lady wife,' Jon thought with a sigh, finishing the twentieth lap and coming to a stop in front of Rodrik.
Without the man's prompt, he shed the armour, but was surprised when he felt a comfort from the cold winds that blew through Winterfell.
It was cold and yet warm, like those comforting hugs he used to receive from his mother when he visited her and she finished working at the inn.
'Is this because of my new found changes?' he thought, noticing that the exhaustion he normally gets from the laps were not present as well.
'I need to test this more later,' he thought, smiling at Ser Rodrik's approving nod as the man tossed a hauberk, a visorless helm and a practise bastard sword.
Putting on the two armaments, he swung the blade to get used to it before giving Ser Rodrik a nod.
"Theon! Get your arse over here!" Rodrik barked as Jon walked to the centre of the field, tapping the practise swords against the heels of his boots as Theon walked over with a slight stumble.
"Great, the bastard," Theon spat out loud, but Jon didn't show any reaction other than tightening his grip around his sword.
Shifting into the stance he was taught, non-dominant hand at the pommel and dominant near the crossguard with the sword held at hip level and pointed towards Theon's chest, Jon inhaled and let out a soft exhale as he saw his opponent do the same.
"No funny business and no fancy spins! Wrists, legs and head count! Quick and clean hits, and the first to three out of five wins! Is that clear?!"
"Yes, ser!" Jon barked, Theon following with a grumble that made Rodrik frown before he dropped his hand.
"Begin!" Despite the match starting, neither dared to advance, instead shuffling slowly in a circle around while taking small steps forward.
Jon knew that he was the best sword between the two of them, but he also knew that Theon was far more perceptive than him given the Greyjoy's incredible skill in archery.
As Jon expected, Theon was the first to get impatient, lunging forward with a thrust aimed at his chest. Yet, with a step to the side, he slid his own bastard sword along the length of Theon's.
A flick of his wrist then helped him land the first blow, Theon wincing from the smack to the side of his head.
"Lucky bastard," Jon rolled his eyes at Theon's words as he stepped back, giving the Greyjoy time to recover.
Both moved back into their standard stances, Jon immediately lunging forward when Theon shuffled forward. The Greyjoy tried to smack it to the side, but Jon countered with a swift strike to the side of Theon's head again.
"Come on, squid! You going to lose without landing a damn blow?!" Rodrik barked, Theon gritting his teeth as Jon took a step back and shifted into his stance.
This time, however, his sword was held low in front of his body and the point angled down.
"Come, Theon. I grow bored of this," Jon was not one to not use a taunt to break his opponent's concentration and with how much he's embarrassed the Greyjoy, he was more surprised that Theon didn't just chuck his blade at him.
Still, it was enough to make Theon lunge forward with a roar, aiming a downwards cut from the left. Bringing his hands up and catching their blades in a bind, Theon was surprised when a kick cracked against his thigh.
It made him stumble and brought him to a knee, one which Jon took advantage of as he pushed forward and held both blades in a cross against the Greyjoy's neck.
"Three out of five! Jon wins!" Despite his slightly heavy breathing, Jon didn't feel tired. In fact, as his grey eyes met dark brown ones, he felt nothing satisfaction as he pulled back and turned to Ser Rodrik.
"Well done, boy. Go and wash up. Theon! Get your arse over here! It seems your drinking habits are fucking with your swordfighting skills!"
'It was expected,' Jon thought as he walked away, immediately blinking at the prideful thought that flashed through his mind.
Don't get him wrong. He had pride in the fact that the only person he would struggle against in swordsmanship his age was his older brother Robb, but never did he believe himself to be superior to anyone under him.
It was almost as if...something was making him arrogant.
'Right! The book. It had mentioned arrogance and pride, but this...this is very worrying,' Jon thought with a grimace, taking off the chainmail and helm before placing both along with the training blade in the shed.
Usually, his training would be longer, but since Rodrik didn't pull him back after he lost, he can only assume that the man was done with him for the day.
That and Ser Rodrik's morning lessons were always that short. It was the afternoon sessions that Jon loathed the most, swinging your sword and running like a fool while chilling winds tried to make an ice statue out of you.
Still, this training session at the yard was enlightening for him. He now knew that his body could take more stress, he could keep track of Theon's fast attacks and he is a bit more prideful.
Now, he just needed a way to test it out further.
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'She said that this would help me walk in the sun, correct?' Jon thought to himself as he stood in his room, the sun at the just the right angle to shine into it.
Reaching for the necklace around his neck, he slowly pulled it off and opened the window, but he frowned when nothing took place other than a soft tingling across his skin.
'Is it because I'm still carrying it?' he thought as he looked at the necklace, taking a deep breath before tossing it to his bed.
The moment he did, pain screamed through his other hand and he bit down on his own teeth to stop the cry that wanted to escape his lips.
Stumbling into the darker shadows of the room, Jon breathed heavily as he stared at the severe burns on his skin, looking back at the bed where Ghost stood at attention.
"G-Ghost, bring it," Even his throat felt hoarse despite the fact that only his hand got burned, Jon smiling in thanks as his direwolf pup walked over with the necklace in his maw.
"Good boy," Scratching Ghost's ear and letting out a soft chuckle at his leg shaking, Jon put on the necklace and immediately felt relief when the pain in his hand faded.
The burn didn't look as bad anymore, but the skin was still raw, making him grimace as he stood up and gingerly held his hand to the light.
Surprisingly, there was nothing but a comforting warmth, surprising Jon as he slowly walked into the light and felt its warmth coursing through his veins.
Looking at his left hand, he was surprised when he saw the burns now being nothing more than slight sunburn on the back of it. Still, this made him frown as he looked down at the silver necklace with the black glass rose pendant, letting out a soft hum.
If someone took this off during a fight and he was in the sun, that was an instant death, which was something he did not want.
'However, I do have something that has been very helpful so far,' he thought as he made his way out of the courtyard, patting the pocket inside of his cloak.
As he thought, the journal was still there, pleased with himself for having thought to place it in his cloak instead of leaving it in his room like he thought to at first.
It didn't take him long to walk into the godswood, softly humming a tune under his breath as he made his way to the weirwood heart tree right in the centre of the godswood.
Before, he would felt nothing than the chill of the wind. Now, with his new changes, he could feel a light pressure in the air, one that wrapped around his shoulders and settled atop his head like a snake.
"Well, I am either very nervous to read this or there is some truth to this," Jon murmured to himself, sitting down under the heart tree while taking out the journal from his cloak.
"Chapter 1: Blood Magic and Life Essence. Should be a fun read."
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Chapter 1: Blood Magic and Life Essence
*Let me first start by saying that in no way, shape or form is blood magic to be practised within eyesight of anyone that is not a Blackfyre or a maegi.
With that said, if you are reading this, that means you are a Blackfyre. How do I know? Because the journal is one that has been enchanted to make sure that none other than those possessing the blood of Blackfyre are allowed to understand it.
To most, this would look like nothing more than a mixture of the Common Tongue, Dothraki and Valyrian all mixed together incomprehensibly in a crude language. How? Blood Magic?
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'So, Blood Magic is capable of that as well?' Jon thought with a surprised blink of his eyes before he continued reading.
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First, let us start with Life Essence. Life Essence, also known as Aether, is the metaphysical energy coursing through the veins of each person.
No, it is not their blood. Think of it more as a spiritual warmth.
As a Blackfyre, your blood is cold as is your Aether, which is why when you satiate your thirst with the warm blood of others, you also warm up your Aether with their 'warmth'.
That is why, whenever you use Blood Magic, you are essentially using the warm Aether you absorbed as fuel for it. It is possible for you to use your own 'cold' Aether for Blood Magic, but it is much more painful and much more costly.
That is because we, the Blackfyre, are not seen as true members of 'Fire and Blood'. Therefore, I, Daemon I Blackfyre, was forced to use methods others would determine sinful and iniquitous.
However, for the greater good of our family and the coming war, I must do what I can to ensure our survival.
If you are reading this, though, that means I failed and it now falls upon you to supplant the Blackfyre name onto the throne.
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'No,' Jon thought immediately with a scoff as he read that last part. As far as he was concerned, his family were the Starks (Lady Stark excluded), and he did not have any desire to become a King.
The current one is a drunkard and the one before that was a mad man born from incest. No, Jon simply wanted to learn more about his blood and protect what he could.
That didn't mean he was going to be a selfless man. If anything, he wanted to live out the best life he could and if that could extend to having his family live out their lives, then he was all for it.
However, right now, Jon Snow, or should he say Jonathan Vladimir Blackfyre, wanted nothing more than to enjoy what peace there was left.
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Let us move on to Blood Magic. As you most likely have already figured out, it is the magic used to manipulate one's own blood with rituals and/ or spells.
Now, you may ask: Could I manipulate someone else's blood? To that, I answer with one simple question.
How can a man know what the blood flow of others feel like? Everyone knows how their own blood flows. They know the pain of when their flesh is cut open and their blood pours out like red velvet given liquid form.
However, would you know how someone's heart pumps when they sneeze? When they cough? When they bite their lip or pinch their skin? Every drop of blood is unique, every flow of Aether sacred.
To understand that is to step into the realm of the divines, the gods that we worship.
Ah, I'm rambling again. My apologies, but to put it all in one simple statement: You can manipulate your own blood, but not that of others.
Most would see this as a detriment. After all, who'd want to lose blood while fighting someone else?
Well, let's look at the possibilities. What if you harden the blood stained on their clothes? Would that not impede their movement?
What if you flick a droplet of blood on someone's face? Would that not give you the opportunity to manipulate the fluidity and shape of the blood into a needle that stabs through their brain.
Magic is visualization and imagination, and with Blood Magic, the only limitations is how much blood you are willing to spare and how cruel your imagination is.
Of course, all rituals and spells will be available for your reading pleasure, but I have also created a guideline that you can use to understand your blood magic better.
As I said, the gods are against you and the world fears your capabilities. Therefore, bide your time and build up your skills until the time comes where you wish to make your name known.
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"..." Jon's eyes were wide as he finished reading, unable to help the subtle smirk and look of greedy excitement in his eyes as he immediately turned the page.
After all, he was wasting time if he didn't continue reading his journal immediately.
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Unbeknownst to Jon, a pair of ravens sat in the branches of the heart tree, their eyes fixed on the young Snow below.
"So, you are the Blood One," the withered man beyond the Wall rasped as he sat with empty white eyes, observing the young soul through the eyes of his ravens.
He could end it here, take care of a Blood One before they could become strong and a danger to his plans.
However, that was when he felt it, a pair of sharp fangs pressing against his neck while their ancient gaze held his own.
"He's a survivor. You will be allowed to play. Not yet."
"Understood," he replied and the presence vanished immediately, leaving the man sitting with wide eyes while the Children gathered around him with wary expressions.
A/N: A bit of an info-dump for this one as I wanted to get this out of the way. Next chapter, though, I have my own things planned, but I'm just going to read the reviews and see what you all want.
Also, I know I said that this was an FF. net exclusive, but I also know there are some people too lazy to go check them out so I was like, let me just post it here too but under the free access.
Anyway, as always, read, enjoy, review and until the next one...
Ba-Bye~!