Wizard Lord of Westeros

Dreadfort Castle

POV of Barbrey Dustin

Barbrey Dustin was not the kind of person who would sit before a Heart Tree and pray to the Old Gods, not after all that she had suffered in her life.

But her nephew, her dear departed sister's son had gone north of the Wall despite all her protests. And now she had not heard from him for whole two moons.

Before leaving, he had told her that the Wall was probably a gigantic ice construct standing only because of the magic deeply embedded in it and they would probably not be able to reach each other with the magical mirror because of its interference.

As always, he was correct. The magical mirror didn't work. So, she had not heard about him for a long time and as a result, she was worried.

And with nothing else to do, she had come here in the godswood in order to pray to the old gods.

It was unlikely that they would hear her prayer. They never heard hers when she prayed for them to allow her to marry Brandon Stark. And they didn't listen to her when she prayed for the return of her husband's safety or the safety of her sister.

But she was desperate and sitting in front of the Heart Tree would at least allow her to get some peace of mind.

So, she sat in front of the Heart Tree and was about to pray when she heard a loud crack and turned around to find herself staring at the surreal scene of Domeric standing in front of her with a bright smile on her face.

Except that he was not alone and was holding hands with two other children of the same height as him.

Those children were not the children of humans but the 'Children of the Forest'. The legends that she had heard so much about as a child.

She stared dumbly at their group as the Children started fidgeting under her stare until Domeric finally coughed in his hand. Her eyes widened for a moment before she lunged at him and enveloped him in a hug before crying out her grievances at him.

It took him a good amount of time to console his aunt who was rather worried that he might have gotten himself killed by the Wildlings at the north of the Wall.

In his own experience, the Wildlings were not as scary as the men made them out to be. But then again, he was living in the Middle Ages where every news you get was based on rumors. And rumors had the tendency to grow and exaggerate as they passed from one man to another.

After that, he told her that he had to go back so that he could bring back his people safely. She threw another temper tantrum which took even longer to calm down. By the end of it, she was rather angry with him once again.

In the end, he told her to take care of Leaf and Ash and hide their existence from the other humans as they could go and carve faces on the dozens of Weirwood trees he had planted in Godswood.

She accepted his request as always, she did and with a final nod, he apparated to the top of the Wall. From there he used his portkey to reach his group.

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Somewhere at the True North

POV of Domeric Bolton

With a sound of pop, Domeric appeared somewhere near the camp of his men. After waiting a while he heard a soft galloping sound and then Grimm appeared in the distance, running toward him. When Grim arrived at his side, he smiled at him and caressed his fur while Grim licked his face.

"Hey, old friend."

Grim might be a magical construction but he did not neglect his and improved his construction constantly in the past. Right now, Grim was an Alchemy Cration with basic intelligence rather than a simple mindless magical construction.

He had a thought to create more Alchemy Creature Direwolves, but he didn't have the right opportunity to do it. After all, it would be too weird to find so many adult direwolves at the south of the Wall. And when they were at the expedition north of the Wall he was always with his men. So, he didn't have the opportunity. Till now.

"Raksa also wanted a direwolf before. Raksa, Varko and my Auntie. I guess I can manage to make three alchemy creatures with my current reserves."

He took a few steps and arrived at a wider space in the woods. Then he took three white round wood pieces carved with black runes from his bottomless pouch.

These were the wooden cores he made from weirwood three. And the runes on them were written with ink he made from crushed dragon bones. He had already prepared all the necessary things in the past. All he needed to do was channel his magic to cores.

This channeling process might have taken some time in the past. But with Merlin's Saphire he had now 11 times of magic reserve compared to the past.

He put the cores on the ground with some space between them, materialized his Holly wand from its tattoo from then channeled his magic to the cores. The runes glowed with a dark halo and activated and started to devour his magic.

He supplied the cores with his magic at maximum output for a whole 4 minutes. And when the alchemy creatures were completed, he nearly depleted all the magic in the Merlin's Saphire. At last, his own reserves were still intact.

He transformed his wand back into a tattoo and looked at his latest masterpieces. Three direwolves were looking at him and waiting for his orders. They were as glamour as the Grim.

"Come here." He called them. Three direwolves; one white, one red, and one golden color, came near to him and licked his hands and face.

"Okay, okay. That's enough licking for today."

He deliberately created them with these colors. His new banner had three colors: black, red, and white. A white weirwood tree with red leaves on a black background. That is why he wanted to march on battlefields with his three direwolves which had his banner colors.

And for the golden color one. He created her, especially for his Auntie. He knew his Auntie would like its royal appearance.

"Now, which names shall I give you?"

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