Chapter 142: Chapter 142: The Stark Family's Unique Traits
Not long after returning to camp, Robert and Stannis also began wearing the same constipated expressions as Renly. The three of them would occasionally burst into fits of foolish laughter, leaving many nobles puzzled. What on earth had Wright done to them during their trip to the blockade zone?
When the Kingsguard knights and Davos Seaworth returned, they looked at Wright and the three brothers with a mix of awe and reverence. They carried out their tasks with meticulous precision, as if fearing any misstep.
Initially, they had thought that the king had sent them to herd sheep as some kind of whimsical pastime—perhaps to stock the blockade zone for future hunts. But such a task was far beneath their station.
The ten men, worried about their futures and feeling disheartened, herded the sheep according to the map Robert had provided. After winding through several hills and mountains, they suddenly came face to face with a massive red-and-white dragon, its body so large that even lying down, it resembled a small hill.
The dragon, catching the scent of the sheep, didn't bother to take flight. Instead, it ran toward them with surprising agility for its size, its mouth watering and the ground trembling beneath its weight.
They drew their swords, but compared to the mountain-like dragon, their weapons looked like toothpicks. The ten men exchanged glances, and without a second thought, they dropped all pretense of nobility and ran for their lives.
The dragon's fiery breath turned the surrounding forest into a sea of gold and red.
After a while, they noticed that the dragon was solely focused on devouring the sheep and showed no interest in them. The ten men regrouped at the entrance of the basin, panting and exhausted. It finally dawned on them that they had been chosen by Robert and Stannis—the king's most trusted men—to feed the dragon and keep its existence a secret. Dragons, extinct for over a century, had returned to Westeros!
Wright's luggage was also brought back by their cart.
In the following days, Wright joined the war council to help devise a new strategy for the assault on Tyrosh. Ravens flew continuously from Bloodstone Port, carrying messages to various locations.
The main strategy was formulated by Barristan Selmy, the overall commander. Wright, still inexperienced in commanding large armies, didn't overstep his bounds. He only offered suggestions when necessary. For instance, when Barristan proposed sending hundreds of men to clear out pirates on a certain island, Wright would suggest going alone, with just a few men to help sail the ship.
Mages were more effective on land. Take Qyburn, for example, a mage who specialized in summoning. While fire was the best way to deal with enemy ships, Qyburn's fire spirits would likely set his own vessel ablaze first.
Wright and Renly split up on several missions. Wright often took Qyburn and Thoros with him, guiding them in their magical practices. Fighting pirates who were little more than beggars held little interest for Wright.
Over the next couple of weeks, the Seven Kingdoms didn't expand their control to more islands. Instead, they focused on consolidating their hold on the ones they had already captured, building up ports and fortresses.
By now, six of the major islands in the Stepstones were under the control of the Seven Kingdoms, leaving five still held by Tyrosh. The northern coast of Dorne faced minor harassment from Tyroshi fleets, which destroyed some ports but were repelled on land.
Bloodstone Island in the north was secure, while Grey Gallows in the central region, initially lost to Euron's forces, was finally retaken by the combined fleets of the Reach and the Iron Islands.
The Westerlands fleet had already captured Torturer's Deep and was now advancing on an island to the east.
All the captured islands were handed over to the logistics units from Greenstone, who oversaw the transportation of construction materials and a large influx of settlers. These settlers, instead of farming, were paid to help build the new strongholds.
The Tyroshi fleet, meanwhile, was being squeezed from multiple directions, its operational area gradually shrinking.
Not long after, the fleets from the Iron Islands, Dorne, and the North finally arrived at Bloodstone Port. The Ironborn lords wasted no time in secretly meeting with Robert.
Ashara, Robb, and Jon found Wright's quarters—a simple wooden cabin. After months of living in tents, Wright and the two women were more than happy to move into the cabin, feeling as though they had returned to civilization. They were thoroughly satisfied.
"Master! Hahaha." Ashara rushed over to hug Witt, but was stopped by a hand on her head.
Wright: "You're almost sixteen now. You shouldn't act like a child anymore—remember, there's a difference between men and women."
"Master!" "Master!" Robb and Jon greeted Wright in turn. Though they had spent little time with him, nearly every book in the magical academy had been handwritten by him, leaving his mark everywhere.
Wright chuckled. "You two have grown taller and stronger. Not bad, haha. Sit down—it's just the four of us here. Ashara, help yourself to a drink if you want."
"Got it!" Ashara, having spent the most time with Wright, knew his easygoing nature well. When he said "help yourself," he truly meant it, so she didn't hesitate to rush over to the cabinet, searching for glasses and liquor. Meanwhile, Robb and Jon, despite being the men, were noticeably more reserved.
All three of them had black hair and were of similar age—all around sixteen. Over the past four years, Ashara had grown more womanly, her short black hair making her look particularly energetic.
Robb's hair was slightly wavy, combed back to reveal his forehead, while Jon's was a bit longer, parted down the middle and falling to either side. Both boys had plenty of stubble on their faces, the kind that comes from attempting to shave but not quite getting it right.
Wright observed Robb closely. "You seem troubled. If there's something on your mind, talk to me—maybe I can help."
Ashara handed out the glasses, then leaned back in her chair, watching Robb. "Go on, you'll be an adult soon. Master isn't that much older than us—he might actually have a good idea."
Jon sighed. "Sigh... This is something we shouldn't tell Father just yet."
Wright noted the looks exchanged between the three. Ashara and Jon clearly knew, but they wanted Robb to say it himself. That meant it was personal. "If it's something too private, you can always say it's about 'a friend of yours.'"
Robb hesitated, looking at them for a long moment before finally deciding to speak.
"Arianne Martell is carrying my child."
"Pfft—cough!"
Wright choked on his drink and nearly spat it out, barely managing to control himself. Instead, the liquor spilled down the front of his shirt.
Looking at the wolf-head pendant he had gifted Robb, he wondered if it had actually worked some magic.
Ashara burst into laughter. "Haha! I win! Jon, pay up—one silver coin."
Jon Snow fished a silver coin out of his pocket and flicked it to Ashara.
Robb looked between them in disbelief. "You were betting on me and Master?!"
Wright wiped at his chest with Tyene's handkerchief and turned to Robb. "Roughly when did this happen? How far along is Arianne?"
Robb rubbed his forehead.
Ashara answered for him, grinning. "As of today, about five months. I was actually the first one to realize Arianne was pregnant!"
The whole mess had started back when they were in Sunspear. Arianne had taken the three of them on a tour of the city, even showing them the royal palace. When Ashara left to train for the Sword of the Morning title, that left only Robb, Jon, and Arianne together.
Arianne had snuck away from her father, furious over the suitors he had arranged for her—mostly old men. The one she actually liked, Daemon Sand, had died, and her father didn't seem to care. So, in a fit of rebellion, she thought, If he won't give me Dorne's inheritance and keeps forcing these ridiculous marriages on me, then fine! I'll just have a child and show him I'm not unwanted!
Once the idea took root, it couldn't be stopped.
And Robb just so happened to be there.
In their conversations, Arianne realized that even though Robb was barely sixteen, he was strikingly handsome, with black hair—perfect by Dornish beauty standards. He was just, selfless, always willing to help the weak—a true knight in every sense. And on top of that, he knew magic.
The boy never stood a chance.
Dornish women were known for being open, and Arianne had mastered the art. Within a matter of days, she had Robb completely wrapped around her finger—and before he knew it, it was already too late.
Wright listened carefully before turning to Robb. "The child is already five months along. Even if Arianne drank moon tea now, it wouldn't work. You two have no marriage contract—the child will be a bastard."
Robb frowned. "Can't we arrange a marriage now?"
Wright shook his head. "That depends on Prince Doran. Dorne has never had a marriage alliance with the North. He wasn't even interested in marrying into King Robert's family."
He was certain that Doran would never approve an alliance. At most, he would allow Arianne to give birth to the child and acknowledge it as a bastard, but a political marriage with the North? Out of the question.
Wright continued, "Right now, your priority is to find Arianne. I can speak to Prince Oberyn and see what Dorne's stance on this is."
Robb's eyes lit up. "Right! Prince Oberyn has been moving around Essos—she must have gone there!"
Ashara, who had been quiet for a moment, suddenly shifted the conversation. "Now that your situation is out in the open, it's time to talk about our graduation trial. Asha and Theon—we've already found them. They're with the Ironborn, and they've just arrived at Bloodstone Port."
She darted in front of Wright, eyes filled with hope. "Master, does this mean the three of us are officially mages now?"
Wright nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow, in the hall of Bloodstone Port, King Robert will personally knight the three of you before the assembled nobles."
"Yes!" Ashara clenched her fists in excitement.
"We're real mages now!"
The journey had been anything but easy. From King's Landing to Dorne, from Dorne to the Stepstones—it had been an arduous path for a group of teenagers. The world was dangerous, and along the way, they had faced bandits, thieves, and mercenaries, and had even gotten caught up in small-scale battles and intrigues.
Their magic had saved them every time.
The trial itself hadn't been about increasing their magical knowledge. Its real purpose was to force them to use their skills under pressure—to learn how to identify threats, how to escape danger, how to survive in a treacherous world.
Wright had no intention of raising fragile mages who would crumble at the first real challenge. He had spent years training them, and he refused to let them be easily outwitted or cut down before they even had the chance to make their mark on the world.