A White Dragon's Legacy - Of Ice... (Patreon)

Alyssa Targaryen, Somewhere – Somewhen.

One minute after witnessing Aemon’s ascension, the sphere returned them to the sight of the enormous Stark vault. The magical chains had disappeared, and the heavy metallic doors slowly opened, revealing…

“Fuck!” her grandson Aegon II shouted, completely stupefied by what his eyes were witnessing, and Alyssa could perfectly understand him. What they were seeing… went against everything they had ever been taught in the Red Keep.

Since childhood, Alyssa had always received the same message: there was no house greater than the Royal House. The dragons, the blood of Old Valyria, and the treasures of Dragonstone seemed sufficient to measure the greatness of a lineage.

But as the doors of the ancient Stark vault opened with a heavy groan, the old Targaryen pride wavered for the first time. Two stone wolves, as tall as siege towers, the imposing structures moving their heads with curiosity, looking directly toward Aemon. Beyond them there was not a chamber, but a golden abyss that descended and ascended until it disappeared into darkness.

The vault, if it could even be called that, was as tall as the Throne Room of the Iron Throne. If the princess had to use one word to describe it, she could only use one with absolute certainty.

Grandeur.

Entire terraces were covered by mountains of gold coins that shone like rivers beneath the enchanted light. Among them rested black iron chests, forgotten crowns, faded banners, and books bound in ancient leather with writing completely unknown to most of the dragons present.

With certain exceptions.

“Well, a manuscript in the Ancient Tongue of the North, a true treasure. It appears to be in perfect condition,” Vaegon said with evident interest, making both Aemon and Baelon snort.

“How can you think about books when you see this, brother? Look at those treasures! That thing must be larger than the damn Throne Room!” said Alyssa’s husband, just as stunned and shocked as everyone present.

And the princess agreed with her beloved husband. The sphere showed not only mountains of gold coins and ingots, but also northern armor made of bronze and leather that shone softly, strange symbols engraved across the entire surface, undoubtedly belonging to the Winter Lords of old, suspended within stone niches, untouched despite the centuries.

The runes engraved upon their breastplates breathed with a bluish light, as if the warriors still watched over the wealth of their house. Swords, axes, and spears slowly floated above pedestals, some still bearing stains of blood from past battles.

Her father, King Jaehaerys, sighed, stroking his long beard before speaking with realization.

“The Starks had not merely accumulated gold; they had preserved memory, power, and time. Quite intelligent and sensible of them,” the statement was crowned by a heavy sigh, which put a dissatisfied grimace on more than one of the Targaryens present.

Before that immensity, Targaryen arrogance seemed… extremely small, at least in Alyssa’s opinion.

However, the immense Stark wealth paled beside the result of Aemon’s Ascension as Lord of House Stark.

His arms continued to glow with blue magic, while small particles of ice flew from the tips of his fingers, generating a kind of icy field around him that looked as powerful as it was terrifying.

Although what stood out, without a doubt, were the amber-colored orbs, shining like two hidden stars beneath the young Dragon’s black hood, giving the young man an extremely intimidating appearance.

And then, Aemon spoke, a silver ring with a black gemstone shining on his hand, undoubtedly a symbol of his new title as Lord of House Stark.

“On behalf of the Most Noble and Ancient House Stark, I thank King Rangrok for the help given, and as Lord Stark extended the invitation for the renewal of the White Oak Covenant,” he said in a solemn voice.

“The White Oak? What the fuck is that?” Aerion asked incredulously, while murmurs began to spread throughout the enormous hall.

“I don’t know, but… it sounds important, very… very important,” his father Jaehaerys said with a sigh, straightening his back and giving his full attention to the sphere.

“And I, Rangrok the Third, accept the offer and renew the White Oak Covenant with Jon, Lord of the Noble and Ancestral House Stark. So be it!” he declared forcefully, at the same time that they clasped hands, sealing the Pact with a flash of white magic.

“This is undoubtedly important. The solemnity in the Goblin King gives it away. What kind of secrets did the fucking Starks possess?” asked Alyssa’s brother, Aemon, while observing the interaction between his descendant and the Goblin King, as the conversation shifted toward economic matters, as well as the reactivation of the Stark economic assets in this… Magical World.

And apparently, the damn Starks were important enough to have a direct relationship with the Royal Family of Gringotts, undoubtedly a display of cooperation and mutual respect, in Alyssa’s opinion.

And another small stone added to the pride of House Dragon.

Everyone in the immense hall fell silent, watching the interactions between Aemon, King Rangrok, and the newly appointed Princess Valka, who apparently was already aware of Aemon’s Ascension as Lord Stark.

“What the fuck? It hasn’t even been five minutes! How are there already rumors?” Baelon asked incredulously as they heard more details about the Starks in these mysterious lands.

They listened attentively to the polite exchange of words between Aemon and the newly appointed princess, until they reached the most interesting point of the entire conversation: the history of House Stark.

“This will be interesting,” her beloved son Viserys said, as he leaned forward, giving it his full attention.

"House Stark first appeared nearly eighteen centuries ago, during the Roman occupation of the islands. The first recorded Stark was Lorian of the Wolf Clan, the man who united the scattered Celtic magical clans. At the time, the Romans were relentless conquerors, burning every land and people that refused to kneel before their empire" said the princess.

“It sounds… suspiciously familiar,” Aegon V said cautiously, making Alyssa’s brother Vaegon snort before replying.

“That’s because that story is exactly the same to the little known history we have of the Valyrian Freehold,” her brother said, to the curiosity of the rest of the Targaryens present, before focusing once again on the sphere.

"Lorian gathered the surviving clans and forged them into a single force. Through magic and war, he halted the Roman advance and eventually drove it back. Even the imperial war mages, supported by disciplined legions and war beasts, were unable to break the resistance he created.

The chronicles describe Lorian as a wizard unlike any other in recorded history. They claim he could command beasts as if they were born to obey him, carve runic clusters so complex that his enemies called him a God of War, and wield ice magic capable of raising monolithic walls and towers in moments.

Other accounts speak of druidic powers so vast that entire forests rose to fight for his cause. Whether these tales are truth, exaggeration, or legend remains uncertain, for the oldest Stark records are fragmented and often contradictory"

At those words, all the Targaryens were stupefied, although the vast majority for different reasons.

“Eighteen hundred years. The Starks set foot in this magical realm so long ago that the Valyrians were still fucking sheep on the peninsula, the Targaryens were raising cattle, and the Starks were already shaping the world to their liking,” Queen Visenya said with her characteristic coldness, making more than one of those present grimace uncomfortably.

“You speak as if you admire them. The Starks knelt before the Dragons. We are superior to all the houses of Westeros. They are simple northern dogs,” Aerion spat, earning a frigid look from the Conqueror.

“Do not speak to me of the Conquest, insolent worm. I was there, do not forget it. Torrhen Stark may have knelt, but for the North, the Starks never stopped being sovereigns in their lands. They have ruled for eight thousand years, while my brother’s lineage was overthrown and practically extinguished in less than three hundred years. Pathetic,” the Conqueror spat, cowing the young and demented prince.

Something quite incredible, in Alyssa’s opinion.

"The turning point came at the Battle of the Dancing Star. There, Lorian faced the Roman imperial war master Claudius Vallens, whose forces marched with blood mages, war beasts, and the full weight of imperial sorcery. Against them stood the united Celtic tribes beneath the banner of the Great Wolf.

The Romans were not opposed by the clans alone. Enslaved magical races from what is now southern England joined Lorian’s cause, goblins among them. When the battle ended, Claudius Vallens lays dead, and the Roman dream of total conquest began to crumble before the rising legend of House Stark."

“It must have been a glorious struggle, bloody and cruel, of that I have no doubt,” said Daeron I, the grandson of her beloved granddaughter Rhaenyra, undoubtedly imagining the titanic scale of the conflict.

“It would be very interesting to know more about these Romans. A comparison between them and Valyria would be a very interesting investigation,” said Daeron II, making the most scholarly men of House Dragon nod softly.

"After the victory, Lorian took Claudius’s daughter and gave her in marriage to his son, Rickon Stark. He also claimed Claudius’s widow as a concubine, binding the defeated bloodline to his own. It was not an act of mercy, but a declaration that the old Roman power in Britain had truly ended."

“Of course, it always comes down to that, to wombs and women,” Daena spat furiously, her brow furrowed, undoubtedly in considerable disagreement with the resolution of the conflict.

The rest of the Targaryens present did not respond, but simply listened with the utmost attention to the importance of House Stark in this… United Kingdom, about how they united the Celtic clans of wizards and witches, forming the first Council of Wizards, becoming one of the richest and most respected families.

“And the secrets continue to increase,” her father said with a heavy sigh as he rubbed his face.

Everyone gave their full attention when the amount of gold and wealth the Starks had in the bank was discussed, raising their eyebrows in disbelief at the ridiculous sum.

“Twenty million… fuck, I can’t even imagine that much gold,” Aegon II said incredulously.

“And don’t forget the silver, five times as much silver. Gods, that amount of wealth… accumulating dust for five hundred years,” Alyssa sighed while shaking her head. She had never really been interested in counting coppers, but even she knew that the amount of gold and silver at the Starks’ disposal was… simply absurd, a fortune that Aemon, intelligently, wanted to put to work to generate even more wealth.

What followed was, at least in Alyssa’s opinion, one of the most interesting scenes so far in Aemon’s life, one that demonstrated a skill that very few sovereigns possessed.

The ability to negotiate.

The princess looked at him with a mixture of respect and satisfaction and said “I am pleased to see that the new Lord Stark has wealth among his priorities, so I promise to look for good opportunities to make that gold multiply, of course for a small fee,” said Balka while letting out a small laugh.

“I didn’t expect less. I consider 7 percent of the profits for you would be a fair deal,” Jon replied.

“20 percent,” replied the princess dryly, while looking him straight in the eyes, challenging him.

Shaking his head, Jon exclaimed, “It’s too much. The risk of the investment will be borne by House Stark, 9 percent per transaction.”

“What the fuck is this percentage he’s talking about?” Aegon IV asked incredulously, making the scholars present snort with veiled disdain before answering.

“It is one of the most advanced concepts of mathematics taught at the Citadel. To see that Aemon has mastered it… fills me with considerable relief. It demonstrates that he has a useful head on those shoulders,” Daeron II said, making several kings nod softly, with his father Jaehaerys looking the most relieved for some strange reason.

For a while they watched the negotiation, the classic pulling and pushing, conceding on some things and standing firm on others, until after almost half an hour, Aemon nodded to himself and prepared for the final thrust.

“15 percent for transactions under 300,000 galleons and 10 percent for larger transactions, 25 percent off the services offered by Gringotts and the proportion of a goblin blacksmith teaching me how to imbue magic into metal at the time of forging,” Jon exclaimed as he stretched out his hand to the princess.

For an instant, both the princess and the observing Targaryens remained completely incredulous and stunned by what they had just seen and heard, until a second later, Princess Valka let out a loud laugh, firmly taking Aemon’s hand and sealing the deal.

“Clever of him, very skilled,” said Alyssa’s brother, Aemon, while softly nodding toward the sphere.

“An effective deal and magical knowledge. Aemon is cunning,” her beloved son Viserys said.

“And so handsome…” Elaena sighed, looking at him with evident longing on her face, making several princesses nod solemnly, showing that they thought the same.

The rest of the family watched as the details were discussed between the two. The goblins would manage an assigned amount of these… galleons and sickles, while the princess promised the assignment of a goblin blacksmith to teach Aemon the art of Arcane Smithing.

As soon as the conversation ended and Aemon left the bank, all the Targaryens were quite confused.

“Why are we still seeing the goblins if Aemon is no longer here?” Aemond asked, his voice, as usual, cold and calculating, like everything his great-grandson always did.

Alyssa shook her head. Simply remembering that tragic era… brought her immense pain, Viserys’s mistakes as a father, both toward Rhaenyra and the rest of the children he had with Alicent…

Alas, this was not the moment to think about that, even less so when they saw the goblin princess stand up in her enormous office and begin speaking into the air, where… to the surprise of all the Targaryens present, the Goblin King… simply appeared, having been hidden in the same room the entire time.

“You were right, father. Lord Stark radiates enormous magical power. With training he will be a fearsome force, but there is more than the ancestral magic of the wolf lords, chaotic, ferocious, a primordial… fire within him. I had never felt such magic,” exclaimed the princess.

Those words caught the attention of the entire room, more than anything, one in particular.

Fire… and that could only mean one thing.

“Does she mean what I think she does?” Aegon V asked, standing up and staring with unhealthy intensity at the sphere.

But then, King Rangrok answered, his voice calm but his face… filled with curiosity. “But I had, in a single man, almost two centuries ago, one of the most powerful battle mages I have ever fought. I felt that magic inside Lord Stark.” At the same time, the King looked at his hand, revealing a ring… familiar to Alyssa.

“THAT IS MY RING!!” the princess screamed, observing the beautiful jewel that Baelon had given her on her wedding day, a true work of art, made of gold and bearing the Targaryen dragon engraved upon it. It shone softly, a red radiance moving like living flames across the metal.

At that revelation, total silence invaded the enormous hall. Kings and queens, princes and princesses, everyone stood up, stunned by what they were witnessing.

“That is the Targaryen symbol… our family… What is a Targaryen ring doing in that magical land?” Baelor, son of Daeron II, asked, observing the interesting jewel with interest.

Alas, no one had the answer, and at that very moment, the image continued.

Balka was surprised and asked “Do you think he has another lordship then?”

Rangrok denied, “I don’t think so, my daughter. I know it, but it’s too early to talk about it. First let Lord Jon dominate the Ice in his blood, then we’ll see if he has what it takes to control the Fire.”

And as soon as those words left the King’s mouth, Alyssa heard Jaehaerys, Aemon, Baelon, Viserys and, to her surprise, her granddaughter Rhaenyra, gasp in astonishment, completely shocked by what they had heard.

“Father… could it be…?” her husband Baelon asked, trembling with emotion, while her father simply nodded, completely distracted.

“It’s likely. Now everything makes sense! The Targaryen Fire and the Stark Ice! The… the prophecy of Aegon I!”

Those words confused everyone present, who had not the slightest idea what the monarch was referring to.

However, before they could obtain an explanation, the image from the mysterious sphere simply vanished, becoming completely inert once again, leaving everyone, as usual, completely shocked.

“No… no, no, NO!” her father shouted, standing up and staring at the sphere as if it had committed the greatest offense against him. Alyssa swallowed.

“You can’t leave me like this, damn it! You put the answers right in my face and then leave? I demand that you tell me what…”

Alas, her father’s words were not appreciated by whoever was directing this dance, since the sphere illuminated again, but not with the characteristic golden smoke that preceded a new vision, but with an intense blue color, at the same time that the sphere began emitting a kind of… unknown energy, before condensing into a…

ZAAAAAP

“AHHHHG!” the old King screamed as he was struck by a powerful blue bolt, sending him back into his chair, before the horrified gazes of Aemon and Baelon, the amused ones of Vaegon and Saera, and the mocking ones of his sisters Viserra and Daella.

And although… somewhat hilarious, no one could laugh at the monarch’s misfortune, because the sphere revealed a face, one unknown to all the Targaryens present.

“If any of you dare to give me orders again, I will throw your souls back into the Ocean of Souls, Understood?” the unknown…Goddess threatened, for lack of a better description.

She was… young, perhaps the same age as Aemon, with silver-white hair and snowy skin, but her eyes… by the Gods, the unknown woman’s golden eyes were filled with power and wisdom far beyond her years.

Seeing the complicated situation, her brother Aemon stood up and spoke.

“I… We are sorry, my Lady… we… we did not know that we had offended you,” he said with diplomacy and his characteristic elegance, so different from Baelon, Alyssa thought with amusement, observing how the… Goddess snorted before replying.

“Mmmm. Fine. You’re lucky to be named after my beloved Aemon. Let it not happen again, or I will use their souls as a chew toy for my dear Seth.”

And with those threatening words, the sphere once again became completely inert, at the same time that the arrival door began to illuminate again, revealing the arrival of another Targaryen.

“Who do you think it will be this time?” Alyssa asked her husband and son, who were both quite silent and thoughtful.

Baelon shrugged, genuinely having no answer to that, but Viserys… Viserys had his brow furrowed, evidently thinking about something particular.

“Everything all right, my little dragon?” Alyssa asked with infinite love, caressing Viserys’s head, and her son could not help but smile at his mother’s gesture before looking away again and replying.

“I’m fine, Mother. It’s just that… the ring, your ring…” her son said before falling silent again, making Alyssa frown and ask,

“What is it, my love? What is wrong with my ring?” the princess asked.

“It is the same ring Daemon always carried with him,” Viserys replied with extreme caution, surprising the princess, who could only open and close her mouth without knowing what to answer.

However, the conversation was interrupted when the doors opened, revealing…

“No!!”

Three people in the room said it, standing up and looking toward the newcomer.

This was only beginning.