A White Dragon's Legacy - Winter Codex. (Patreon)

Jaehaerys Targaryen, The Observatory – Ocean of Souls.

Everything had gone to shit.

Was this his punishment for his actions in life? It wasn't as if he truly regretted them. Jaehaerys genuinely believed that what he had done had been the right decision. His granddaughter Rhaenys…although capable, was still a woman in a continent dominated by Andal laws.

Besides having chosen the worst husband possible, a damned Velaryon, arrogant and haughty little shit.

Alas, none of that mattered now. Rhaenys or Viserys, the throne was not occupied by a Dragon.

But by a disgusting Stag, he thought with contempt.

The Gods were cruel. They undoubtedly found some perverse pleasure in punishing Jaehaerys this way, forcing him to watch as, little by little, his proud family was reduced to a fucking whisper in the wind.

From Viserys's stupidity, and the even more idiotic actions of his offspring, through the Blackfyre Rebellions and ending with the fucking War of the Usurper.

Of course, there had been flashes of light along the way, such as Daeron, Baelor, or even young Aegon V, but apparently they had not been enough to eclipse his family's innate stupidity.

Jaehaerys had been forced to witness Aerys's madness, as well as the fall of the last of his worthy descendants.

The last Dragon, the Silver Prince.

Rhaegar Targaryen, as brilliant as he was promising, murdered in the mud like a dog.

The Gods truly enjoyed making him suffer.

And apparently, the torture was not over yet, considering that the last hope of his family was in the hands of young Aemon Targaryen.

Brilliant Aemon, Intelligent Aemon.

The last of his descendants was everything Jaehaerys had ever dreamed of as an heir and future king of Westeros.

Intelligent, capable, and cunning, kind but not weak, pious but not stupid.

So yes, for Jaehaerys, it was an enormous torture to watch Aemon triumph and conquer…

In the name of House Stark.

However, none of that was important now. He had an eternity to continue torturing himself with Aemon's life. What was interesting at this moment…was seeing who had arrived at the Observatory.

And as was to be expected from his family of degenerates, many were placing bets, much to the old King's disappointment.

“Who do you think it is this time? Do you think it could be the useless sons of Aegon V? I'd like to make fun of that imbecile Duncan for giving up the Throne for a commoner. HAHAHA,” Aegon II said with amusement as he took a drink from his cup.

Aemond rolled his eyes, his eye completely focused on the door.

“I am more interested in knowing why there is a statue of a wolf in this place. Perhaps it is an omen, and soon there will be more than just Targaryens in this room,” he said intelligently, making several people around him nod softly.

Including Jaehaerys.

The Kinslayer might be hated, but he was far from stupid, and his cunning was unmatched.

The voices in the Observatory stopped the moment the doors opened, revealing…

“Well, well…but if it isn't the Last Dragon himself!” Aegon IV said mockingly, at the same time as Rhaegar Targaryen himself appeared in the Observatory.

“And accompanied by the Wolf Maiden herself,” Aerion replied, leaning back in his chair and looking toward the entrance of the place, where Rhaegar and Lyanna were looking around with very different expressions.

The Last Dragon maintained his melancholic gaze and intelligent eyes, observing everything around him with obvious interest and without a hint of fear, something admirable considering that many of the Targaryens present blamed him for the fall of their family.

Although the tense situation did not seem to bother the prince at all, as he observed his surroundings with complete naturalness.

Lady Lyanna, on the other hand…

“But where the fuck are we? Where are the winged maidens? Where is the Eternal Great Hall with the rest of my ancestors? Where is Valhalla?” the raven-haired Wolf Maiden spat furiously as she looked around with barely concealed contempt in her beautiful but fierce gaze.

“Oh, the Old Gods are punishing me by making me spend my afterlife surrounded by your family,” Lyanna sighed with resignation in her voice, making the vast majority of the Targaryens look at her with complete indignation.

Jaehaerys could only snort as he leaned forward. This conversation was going to be very interesting.

“I like her,” his beloved wife said with amusement, making Jaehaerys silently nod and continue watching.

Aerion stood up, his face filled with fury.

“Who the fuck do you think you are? To speak of the Royal House, of the Noble House Targaryen, in such a way, insolent woman!” the Mad Prince spat.

However, if he expected Lyanna to be intimidated by his words, he was obviously going to be very disappointed.

The Wolf Maiden snorted and, looking at Aerion with barely concealed mockery, replied.

“I don't even need to ask who the fuck you are. Your stupidity is so legendary that it has transcended death itself. Aerion ‘Brightflame’ Targaryen, the prince who thought he could drink wildfire and live to tell the tale. You set the bar pretty high if we wanted to compare stupid ways to die, I'll be honest. That's quite an achievement, in its own way,” Lyanna said mockingly.

At those words, all the Targaryens were stunned for a moment, at least until Aegon IV, furious at the woman's insolent attitude, tried to intervene.

“YOU INSOLENT BITCH! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO—”

However, the sharp tongue of the Wolf Maiden did not let him finish. Lyanna looked at him incredulously before looking at Rhaegar and asking sarcastically.

“Do you hear that, my love? It sounds like an obese pig squealing, although it's so pathetic and miserable that it even gets tired from talking,” the woman said, making all the Targaryen women, without exception, laugh loudly, enjoying the look of shock and fury on Aegon IV's face, as he struggled to stand and tried to appear more threatening.

But considering that standing up required an almost superhuman effort, it did not have the effect the obese king expected.

And apparently, the young Stark had no intention of stopping the humiliation.

“Oh, Gods, you can barely even stand! Can you even walk? Or are you going to roll over here?” Lyanna asked the humiliated man, this time making every member of House Dragon, including Jaehaerys, burst into amused laughter.

The humiliation of his ancestor apparently being enough for the moment, Rhaegar stepped forward and asked calmly and politely.

“Where are we? We both know that we are dead, but…we expected something else. We expected Valhalla,” Rhaegar said solemnly, while Lyanna took his arm beside him and nodded softly, still looking around suspiciously.

This was the moment Jaehaerys took advantage of to intervene.

“I am afraid we do not recognize this…Valhalla you speak of, although I am very interested in learning about it. You have mentioned it several times, Princess Lyanna. What is it?” the old King asked, making Rhaegar and Lyanna look at him in surprise.

The moment Lyanna detected genuine respect in the old man's voice, she was about to answer when the Goddess's voice intervened.

"Valhalla…is the Name of the Celestial Hall in the Divine Realm of Asgard…where Warriors and believers of the Old Gods go to spend eternity, the eternal resting place of the Starks"

Immediately afterward, the sphere lit up, showing them the realm of Asgard…and in the process, causing the breath to leave the bodies of every Targaryen present.

The place was…beautiful, simply magnificent. A seemingly endless meadow, with an immense golden hall filled with luxury, overflowing with feasts and drinks. It was filled with what were evidently Northmen, both men and women. It was like…some kind of endless feast.

“Shit, just what I needed. Now I've actually discovered fucking envy,” Aegon II said, staring longingly at the endless feast.

Jacaerys, Rhaenyra's son, looked toward the sphere and asked politely.

“Excuse me…uhm…Goddess, my father Ser Harwin was a believer in the Old Gods. Could it be that…” the young man asked, making his three brothers and his great-grandmother Rhaenyra look toward the sphere with obvious longing and hope.

The Goddess's response? Making the image inside the sphere zoom toward a specific point in the enormous hall, showing the aforementioned Ser Harwin, who was laughing peacefully while engaged in a fistfight with a gigantic Northman who appeared to have maces for fists. Both exchanged fierce blows, although neither seemed truly…angry.

“Harwin,” Rhaenyra whispered with such naked longing that Jaehaerys could not help but feel some pity for his great-granddaughter.

She, like Jaehaerys, had suffered the loss of many children. She knew very well that such pain was not easy to overcome.

“Why can the Starks be there? What makes them so special? We have the blood of the Dragon!” Aerion spat, dying of envy at the enviable sight.

And surprisingly, the Goddess gave a clear and concise answer.

"Because the Starks, unlike you, are members of the White Oak Pact. Their souls enjoy the protection of Yggdrasil, unlike yours"

Those words silenced everyone present, at least until Maekar asked incredulously.

“That pact again. Is it the same one Aemon renewed with the goblins? I knew it was important, but who is Yggdrasil?” he asked aloud, voicing the same question all the Targaryens had.

And one they received an answer to, thanks to Lady Lyanna.

“Not who, but what. Yggdrasil, the World Tree, the Beginning and the End, the one who gives Order to Chaos,” Lyanna said distractedly, making all the Targaryens, including Rhaegar, look at her incredulously.

“Wait…what the fuck is that? I have never heard of this Yggdrasil,” Maester Vaegon said with a frown, hungry for knowledge.

Lyanna merely looked at him with barely concealed contempt and replied.

“It is mythology of the First Men. I doubt it is something that the oh-so-powerful House of the Dragon would be interested in,” Lyanna mocked, making her son Vaegon frown and Rhaegar intervene, trying to calm the Wolf Maiden.

This was when young Jacaerys took the opportunity to intervene.

“Forgive me, my Lady, I…I was in Winterfell for a couple of moons when I was negotiating with Lord Cregan, and I found nothing in the Fortress's library that mentioned such a thing,” the young prince said politely, making Lyanna look at him in surprise before raising an amused eyebrow.

“You must be Jacaerys. Sarah Snow's Diaries were…quite descriptive about what you really did during those moons, young prince,” she said with a little laugh, while Rhaegar also snorted, both observing the now-embarrassed prince.

However, before anyone could comment on the matter, or before her great-granddaughter Baela could intervene and demand answers, Lyanna continued.

“You only read what you were permitted to read, young prince. Simple as that,” the Wolf Princess said, before Rhaegar stepped forward and asked aloud.

“Where are we?” the Last Dragon asked, receiving an answer from the old King.

“We are in the Observatory, somewhere called the Ocean of Souls. Do any of those terms sound familiar to you, my Lady?” the old King asked with interest, only to sigh in disappointment when he saw that both Rhaegar and Lyanna shook their heads.

And at that exact moment, the sphere lit up again, giving them all a vision of Aemon…still levitating before the immense White Oak.

"AHHHHHHHG" the young Jon screamed as he felt a monstrous magical power invade his mind. The castle's Wards were linking themselves to their new Master, and Jon was able to feel absolutely everything in the Stark Magical Lands.

"I can…feel everything" Jon said as he levitated above the castle floor, his eyes shining like two silver moons, the same color as the White Oak's leaves.

And as young Aemon appeared in the sphere, both Rhaegar and Lyanna were completely stunned.

“That is…” the Wolf Maiden said, her eyes wide open, utterly shocked as she watched her son.

“Aye, that is Aemon, your son,” Rhaenyra said softly, making Rhaegar speak, his eyes observing every detail with extreme fascination.

“Where…Where is he? I do not recognize that castle,” the Last Dragon said.

However, before they could say anything, the image continued. Aemon kept screaming, as if he were in great agony, until suddenly, the glow simply disappeared, making Aemon fall to the floor, evidently exhausted.

The young dragon gasped for breath, exhausted, while his eyes glowed with that amber radiance that everyone had already come to associate with the Wolf Lords.

“Where the hell is my son?” Lady Lyanna asked with obvious fury in her voice, making Baelor, son of Daeron II, respond with his characteristic courtesy.

“We are seeing Aemon in a castle called Wolf's Den, my Lady,” the prince said, making Jaehaerys observe Lyanna's reaction with great interest.

The young Stark looked toward the prince in question with a frown and declared.

“That cannot be. The location of Wolf's Den was lost five hundred years ago, long before any of you even set foot in Westeros. How is it possible that my son ended up in the Principality of Winter?” Lyanna asked with obvious surprise and concern.

And although those words caught the attention of every Targaryen present, they all remained silent when they saw Aemon struggle to stand, still dazed.

“I already have control of the castle.”

Before Samuel’s incredulous eyes, the castle began to shine like never before, birds and a lot of magical animals were seen outside the crystal roof, all of them happy to have a new Master it seems, the white oak tree shone with so much magical power that even he, a Squib, could feel it. He was dying of curiosity to ask about the tree; however, he knew that it was most likely a family secret. The last thing he wanted was to cause trouble with such a powerful wizard.

Samuel nodded and replied, “Do you want to explore your home, or do you want us to visit the village?”

Jon said, “Let’s explore the village. The castle is too big, and I can explore it in my spare time. Just give me a moment.”

Jon took off his bag with his purchases and shouted:

“Missy!”

Less than a second later, Jon’s new elf appeared before him. She looked proud and happy to see Jon in his new home. The elf spoke:

“Master, welcome to your home. Missy has been cleaning what she can, but the master needed to be present to open some parts of the castle. The Lord’s room is ready for Master to rest. If Master wishes, Missy can take him there,” said the little creature, hope shining in her eyes as she looked at Jon.

“A servant who cannot betray you. Oh, how I would have wished for one in life,” Aegon II spat, looking with barely concealed contempt toward his sister, who did not even deign to respond, preferring to give her full attention to Aemon's fascinating life.

“What the fuck is that?” Rhaegar asked incredulously, receiving a distracted answer from Rhaenyra, who was still completely focused on the sphere.

“An elf. Aemon's personal servant, a magical being,” his great-granddaughter said, while everyone's attention returned to the sphere in question.

The young man looked at the elf and gently shook his head.

“I still have things to do in the village, Missy. Just leave this bag in the room, and when I’m ready, I’ll call you to take me to my quarters, okay?” Jon said.

Nodding, the little elf replied, “As Master orders.”

She took Jon’s bag and disappeared to an unknown destination.

Jon looked at Samuel and said, “We can appear at the village’s forest gate. Are you ready?”

“What the fuck is a Forest Gate?” his son Baelon asked with a frown, receiving an immediate answer from the sphere.

He made a circular gesture with his wand, and a trail of green light began to emerge from it.

Samuel, confused, asked, “The forest what?”

Before Samuel’s wary eyes, Jon explained, “The castle still recognizes the Town as a vassal. Stark magic now permeates the lands of Cranleigh. This Gate is family magic. It allows us and my ancestors to move instantly throughout all the lands under the castle’s control.”

At that explanation, once again, all the Targaryens were stunned merely by imagining that such magic was even possible, and their surprise grew even more with young Lyanna's next words.

“That is…interesting. According to Old Nan, the Kings of Winter of old could move in a similar manner throughout the North, although we always believed it was merely a legend,” she said cautiously, making Rhaegar beside her respond calmly.

“Apparently, it isn't.”

Immediately afterward, they all continued watching in silence as Aemon created a kind of…magical rectangle before calmly walking through it, making the entire House Targaryen watch as, in an instant, he found himself a considerable distance away from the castle.

Wolf's Den was located on an island far from the shore, barely visible…and Aemon had used magic to move instantly from one place to another.

Again, completely paralyzing the Targaryens, who could only stare incredulously and helplessly at the images within the sphere.

“That…must be the most incredible thing I have ever seen,” Daeron II said completely stunned, while several members of his family softly nodded.

“Oh, imagine having such wonderful magic,” Daena whispered with incredible longing, undoubtedly imagining what having such power would have meant for her confinement within the Red Keep.

Jaehaerys could not help but snort with amusement at certain particular faces: his daughter Maegelle, the imbecile Baelor I, and of course, Queen Naerys, the three Targaryens closest to the Faith of the Seven.

Or, as everyone had begun joking in the Observatory, the False Cunts.

With every second they watched of Aemon's life, it became increasingly clear that the Old Gods of the First Men were real, magical, and more alive than ever.

Unlike the Andal Faith, he thought with some satisfaction, remembering all the headaches the Seven had given his family both in life and in death.

But that was another story. His family could continue with their identity crisis; he had more important things to do.

Such as observing this wonderful new world in which Aemon found himself.

They continued walking until they came to some kind of road. It was not made of stone, but of a rather sturdy black substance that made the road perfectly smooth and even. Jon imagined that the carriages would be able to move quite quickly along these roads.

“We don't have roads like these. Look how wide they are. They could surely move five carts side by side,” Prince Baelor said, observing the images of this settlement with interest.

Cranleigh, the old king remembered, observing the pleasant sight Aemon and the old man were seeing.

And as they advanced, they could see that the people of these strange lands lived…well.

Very well, even.

They obviously had no castles, but their houses looked comfortable and sturdy. Men and women moved about in fine clothing that made even several nobles and knights look like filthy beggars.

It was…the strangest yet most wonderful city Jaehaerys had ever seen. Clean, incredibly peaceful, and filled with wonders he simply could not comprehend.

“How are those lights on without torches?”

“Is that a carriage without horses?”

“By the Gods, that shit is going faster than my Dornish stallion!”

Those were the words of the members of House Targaryen who were watching this interesting and strange settlement, and apparently, Aemon thought the same.

He followed Samuel down the road, and little by little, he began to see the houses in the village. They were quite large and looked rather comfortable. Jon found it hard to believe that common people lived so well in these lands.

Wait... was that a carriage?

Where were the horses?

Samuel began to explain to Jon.

“This is the town. It’s small, but the people are friendly, and we support each other. We are only a couple of streets away from High Street. It’s the commercial district. There, you will find whatever you need: food, books, medicine...” Samuel continued walking, followed by Jon.

Jon liked the village. The people seemed quiet, going about their lives with great tranquility. They were better dressed than many nobles in Westeros, and they didn’t reek like dead rats, so Jon guessed they bathed regularly.

The main street was full of life. Men, women, and children of all ages walked peacefully, laughing and going about their daily lives without any apparent problems.

These lands were very different from Westeros.

Jon liked what he saw.

“This is a good place to live, you have a beautiful home Mr. Anderson” said Jon, remembering his modals.

Samuel just snorted and spoke.

“Just Samuel Lad, you are Lord Stark now…you don’t owe me anything,” said the man.

However, Jon just shocks his head and answer with determination in his voice.

“You treat me with Courtesy, patience and education, I must answer in kind, whatever you need, you are always welcome in Wolf’s Den” said Jon with a smile that make the Old Man to look at him speechless.

“Thank you, Lord Stark” answers the man with deep respect on his voice.

“He will go far. He is a good politician and possesses natural leadership. He is easy to like,” Daeron II said, making several Targaryens present nod softly, completely absorbed in the scene.

Immediately afterward, they saw Aemon and Samuel arrive at the bar and the old man's comfortable house in a neighborhood of the picturesque town. The streets were even illuminated at night, quite peaceful.

They watched Aemon and the old man shake hands and say goodbye before Samuel entered his home and Aemon passed through his magical Stark portal once again, appearing not in the beautiful and immense garden from before.

But in an immense and magnificent office inside Wolf's Den. The town where Aemon had been moments ago now looked quite small on the horizon from the new room, which was evidently located at the highest point of the castle.

“By the Gods!” his son Vaegon whispered, his eyes dilated, the closest Jaehaerys had ever seen him come to having lust in his gaze.

A gaze that all the Targaryen scholars in his family shared.

“By the Gods! Look at that marvel!” Daeron II said in astonishment, staring dumbfounded at the images of the Lord's office inside Wolf's Den.

However, every member of House Dragon looked at the room with a single emotion.

Envy.

And unfortunately, that included Jaehaerys as well.

Jon entered the room slowly through the magical Threshold and stood contemplating his new office for several moments, still stunned that everything around him was his.

He was…Lord Stark of Wolf’s Den, and he could not stop a warmth from filling his chest at that thought.

The office was much larger than he had expected, with high vaulted ceilings and walls built from gray but polished stone, giving them an almost black appearance. Moonlight entered through enormous windows, illuminating the place with a soft clarity, while yellow magical lights gave the place a warm and protective appearance. It was evident that it had been designed to be relaxing and to work for hours.

The floor was covered by a carpet in shades of gray and white, decorated with discreet motifs of wolves and trees. The room had a sober elegance, without unnecessary excess, but every detail made it clear that this was not simply an office. It was the office of a Lord.

His office.

“That is obvious. He is very excited,” Rhaenyra said with a soft smile, watching with some sadness as Aemon caressed the desk, his new desk, with obvious longing and gentleness, appreciating every detail of his new home.

A magical and beautiful one.

“Aemon comes from a home where nothing was ever given to him. That will make him appreciate this even more, of that I am certain,” Jaehaerys I said firmly, observing what he was certain would become the center of Aemon's political operations.

And…damn, the place was beautiful, the old king thought with some envy.

The desk occupied a dominant position in the center of the room. It was enormous, made from dark and heavy wood, with delicate details carved in the shape of branches and wolves. On its surface were several perfectly organized parchments, an inkwell, quills, seals, and documents that he would probably have to review later. Behind the desk rested a large high-backed armchair, large enough to make Jon think it looked more like a throne than a chair.

On one side of the room was an enormous balcony open to the outside. The glass doors were framed by dark stone and led toward a wide terrace, from which a large portion of Wolf's Den could be seen. The towers, walls, and buildings of the castle stretched before him, while beyond them the forests and lands belonging to House Stark could be seen.

“I can see Cranleigh from here. The position is one of dominance. I imagine the Lord Stark of old handled the affairs of the town from here, undoubtedly a subtle reminder of the place of the vassals,” he deduced to himself before turning around and finishing examining the place with interest.

However, there was something that particularly caught his attention.

At the back of the office, upon a circular platform of black stone, stood a small pyramid. It was perfectly symmetrical and built from a dark, almost black material, whose surface seemed to absorb part of the room's light. Fine silver lines ran across its four faces, forming geometric patterns Jon could not understand. Some symbols were deeply engraved into the surface, while others appeared to have been embedded into it.

“This…this is different, newer than the rest of the Fortress. Interesting,” Jon said as he approached the strange pyramid.

It was…large and evidently magical, and it bore an inscription in the Ancient Tongue, in golden letters that glowed softly.

“Winter Codex,” he whispered to himself, disbelief evident in his voice, having no idea what this strange object was.

Jon remained in front of it for several seconds.

He did not know what it was.

But for some reason, he had the feeling that the pyramid had been waiting for the new Lord Stark to arrive.

In the Observatory, all the Targaryens stared in astonishment at the incredible and magical object, all of them…

Except Lyanna, who opened her eyes wide in astonishment before letting out an excited squeal and beginning to bounce in her seat, still holding Rhaegar's hand.

“OH, BY THE GODS!! IT'S THE LOST CODEX!! AEMON HAS THE LOST CODEX!!” the woman said, trembling with utter happiness and, in the process, drawing everyone's attention.

However, before Jaehaerys or the others could ask what the hell this Codex she was mentioning was…

It happened.

The moment he made contact, the gems on the ring and the runes on the artifact began to shine brightly. The bronze top of the pyramid began to rotate rapidly on its own, until a brilliant light filled the entire room, blinding the boy for a moment.

When she appeared, Jon felt that he had entered the presence of something that did not completely belong to this world. The Goddess…was pure perfection, at least to Jon, serene and majestic, dressed in an elegant white robe whose embroidery seemed to contain ancient runes, leaving much of her ebony skin completely bare, adorned with powerful arcane runes of the First Men. Her face was beautiful, delicate, and almost supernatural, framed by white hair that fell softly over her shoulders. Her eyes possessed an unsettling depth, as if they had witnessed entire centuries. She carried no weapons, no crown, yet her presence commanded more respect than any army.

She was the living memory of Wolf's Den, the very essence of the Castle before his eyes.

Incarnate.

The being spoke in a voice as soft as a spring whisper, her voice almost angelic.

“Welcome, Lord Jon, Master of Wolf’s Den. My name is Nerea, guardian of the Winter Codex and faithful servant of the noble and ancestral House Stark.”

She spoke those words as she bowed before him.

And then, the sphere went completely dark, leaving the entire House Targaryen and the young Stark once again on the edge of their seats.

“What? What the fuck happened?” Lyanna asked, desperate to know more about the life of her beloved son.

Rhaenyra sighed and answered the question resignedly.

“This happens often. We are at the Goddess's mercy. We get crumbs from Aemon's life whenever she decides,” Jaehaerys's great-granddaughter said, making Lyanna Stark nod with a frown before looking at the sphere again and sighing.

“Damn it, again,” Aerion spat with a sigh as he stood up.

“Well…now that we have some time, I want to know one thing,” Aegon V said before staring intently at Rhaegar, obvious irritation in his voice.

“What the fuck was going through your head to make such stupid decisions?” he asked with obvious annoyance, waiting for an explanation.

Jaehaerys leaned forward. This was a conversation he wanted to participate in, after all.

The hope of House Targaryen was Aemon, but that did not mean Jaehaerys would not seek answers regarding the…lack of common sense of his descendants.

There were many explanations to give.