Game of Thrones: King of Magic

Solomon. Braavos.

- Why do you not allow me to approach you, Master Solomon? I only want to do my master a favor and give him a welcoming kiss. - The Artist asked in a seductive voice with a charming smile on her face.

- How interesting," I said with a short laugh, "What is the reason for such a sudden change?

- You know, when I thought about it for a while, I immediately came to the conclusion that it was pointless to resist you. You said yourself that I am more important to you than my mother, and that means that my goal will be achieved one way or another. And since it is so, why not start to fulfill your new duties, because the disadvantage, in fact, only one?

- And, to summarize, if I let you go, you won't try to slit my throat with that brush in your hand hidden behind your back, will you?

Being on the third floor of the Pearl Bank, my cheerful gaze was directed at the vine-covered Artist a couple of meters away from me. Her maids, standing against one of the walls, were silently watching with impenetrable faces, as if they didn't know what to think about it.

- Oh, come on. How could I? - Showing impressively feigned resentment, the Artist replied - Master Solomon, are you... afraid of me? Just thinking about it makes my heart feel as if it were pierced by a thousand red-hot needles. Please don't hurt me so much and just let me approach you.

- Impressive acting skills," I ignored her request and took the empty chair, "I suppose you're interested in theater? A frequent visitor to the Blue Lantern?

One notable venue is the Blue Lantern, a theater located near Purple Harbor and Moonlight Pond. Its walls are painted a soft blue color, hence its name. Its productions were characterized by grace and poetry, which was a popular topic among ladies of all ages.

- Tch, - the Artist tsked, and her expression changed to a more familiar, that is, irritable - Let me go, I realized that this will not work.

- That's good. - I smiled, and the vines immediately disappeared into the floor as quickly as they had appeared. The artist lowered herself to the ground and strode with a disgruntled face to the couch, tossing the brush to the maids, who caught the object and placed it on the shelf, then obediently stood behind their mistress.

Her character is somewhat similar to the combination of Arya and Sansa. The icy mask seen by the vast majority of Braavos' inhabitants gives no hint of what lies beneath. The purposefulness and appealing personality that I'm sure no more person knows about than the fingers on one hand, naturally compels me to give her my attention.

If her game is exposed, she's not afraid to show who she is. That is, she doesn't care what people think of her. Her mask is not meant to favor her, but rather the opposite. It's a defense mechanism to keep anyone away from her. Given her circumstances, though, that's not surprising.

- Why are you here? I doubt the conversation between you and "mother" has happened yet. Just so you know, I'm not here to amuse you or stroke your ego.

- Oh? Now you don't think I'm a liar? That's good to know. - I said with a light laugh, to which the Artist clucked her tongue.

- You didn't answer the question, Master Solomon. What is it you want? And is it related to Velano, who has been looking for you recently?

- I'm sure it doesn't. I am here for another reason," I shook my head, "My visit has to do with your mother.

- Oh? What a surprise. - she grinned.

- Your opinion of her is clear to me, and I want to know what exactly happened between you. It will give me some basis for what kind of person she is, and what to expect.

- Didn't you say you would judge her yourself? So you are a liar after all, Master Solomon? - The Artist cheered up a little.

- Not at all, I still have the last word," I laughed, "But I am interested in you, as I said the other day. Your story will reveal a little about your life, and you will tell me all your accumulated frustration and obviously make mistress Kirana look bad. Everyone benefits.

Hearing my words, the Artist wrinkled her face in disgust, and then thought for a moment. However, it didn't take long.

- Okay, but don't say that damn name in front of me," she sighed and closed her eyes, as if to organize her thoughts, "For as long as I can remember, I was raised by people who worked in a bakery. The same one I own now. And because of their kindness and care, I was able to survive and become the person I am today. For that reason, the bread that those people baked soothes me, because it's been working since I was a little girl.

That sounds pretty sweet. Childhood habits that survived into adulthood and were harmless, give a person's personality a certain zest that makes them more attractive and stand out from the crowd.

- Hmm? But how did the child of a noblewoman get there? - I wondered - It's clear from your words that you were a baby at that moment. And I doubt your mother would have let it happen.

- I would, why not? If you have enough gold, of course," the Artist grinned, 'Unlike my 'mother', my father did show some concern, which seems strange and incomprehensible to me even now. To keep me alive, he gave away a part of the artisan street he owned at the time. And when I was born, he took me to that bakery. And, no, I won't tell you his name.

She paused, as if to remember something.

- I first met him only a couple years ago, and his identity was confirmed by the people at the bakery. My father told me what I've now told him, and when I asked him why, he never gave me an answer. Now our communication is extremely superficial, although present. We see each other about once every couple months, I suppose. Of course, from the outside he is not the best father, but I do not need much. I respect him, and I'm grateful to him for saving me and what he did.

I raised an eyebrow.

Now the weirdness had begun. It's clear he's in this city too, and whoever Artist's father is, his actions are too illogical. It was clear from her words that he was no ordinary person, but still, why give up something so expensive to save a child?

On the one hand it is an act worthy of a father, but on the other? Why is their communication so... bad? It's like he's just meeting her to check in and remind her of himself. It just doesn't fit with his previous behavior. They live in the same city and even the same neighborhood, I'd say, but their communication is limited to a single meeting a couple months apart.

Furthermore, the Artist herself doesn't see this as a problem, and is simply content with what she has. She is no longer interested in the reason for her father's behavior, and considers the current communication between them to be normal.

- Where is he now?

- I don't know. I don't follow him," Artist shrugged, 'I learned about the 'mother' from her. After several attempts on my life, which I managed to fend off with magic and a dagger, which Velano helped me with, she showed up in front of me.

A mocking smirk shone on her face now, and a mocking laugh escaped her mouth.

- This woman bluntly stated that she wanted me dead, and I should just let myself be killed so as not to waste our time. When I asked what the reason for her actions was, she explained it very briefly and clearly.

The artist raised her hand and filled it with mana enough that the magical chains on her body glowed a dim neon-green color.

- Magic. "Mother wants it, and badly. As she puts it herself, I am her mistake, a failed liaison with an unworthy one that doesn't possess at least a drop of magic. And to rectify this, to wash away the shame of her lineage, and to atone for her guilt, she wishes to get rid of me by taking my magic and passing it on to an heir of the family. A worthy heir born from the union of two sorcerers, that is, her and, I understand at this point, you.

She then stopped filling the chains with mana and lowered her hand, before grinning ironically.

- It's funny, isn't it? I, who was born from an ordinary human and a sorceress, turned out to be more gifted in magic than the sorceress herself. The greatest joke of fate, don't you think, Master Solomon?

I frowned.

Now I could see the reason for Kirana's interest and her invitation. The Artist's words fit quite well with what Lina had told me. The obsession with magic, the huge library devoted to the subject, and the predatory look I got at the reception when I first met her.

Wanting to fix your mistakes is fine, but to consider your child as such, to try to kill them and say it to their face? Far from a good example of a parent. And one could say that Kirana is unequivocally a bad person not even worth listening to, however it's not that simple.

In the world of the original Solomon and Romani Archaman, there is the Clock Tower, one of the three branches of the Association of Magicians, which is essentially a school for magicians, and the medieval outlook is still present there. That is, marriages of convenience, keeping a girl's virginity until marriage, the number of generations wielding magic, and the importance of lineage are still present there.

And it is not meaningless, because there is a Magical Mark, which is a magical chains, which were given a stable shape and put on the body of the heir. The mark stores all the magical knowledge accumulated over many generations of the mage's family, thus only increasing the value and power of the family.

Also mages of the family at some point in their lives weave their own magical chains into the Sigil, from which knowledge does not stop accumulating, and progress is preserved. As long as the heir who has the Magical Sigil is alive, of course.

The knowledge stored in the Mark becomes more stable and easily activated with each new generation. For example, the heir can access any spell stored in the Sigil, just like on a computer disk, even if he could never learn it, much less use it.

Mages seek a mate among other mages, thus increasing the strength of the Magical Mark, their power and inheritance. In essence, a purely political move, based on mutually beneficial trade relations, because the greater the strength of these three factors, the higher the place in the hierarchy of the Clock Tower, and therefore more resources received from it for development.

Alliance with an ordinary person is simply unprofitable, because almost the entire potential of the generation is lost, and to give the Mark to a person who has no inheritance is tantamount to resources to the wind. After all, even here, where magic is not particularly widespread, it is the norm to censure the relationship between the rich and the poor.

But there is a catch. The mark is only one, as is the heir, and so if the number of children exceeds one, conflicts erupt in the family for the place of honor. Brother kills brother, sister kills sister, and sometimes parents get involved.

If you generalize all of this and allow for the existence of the Magical Mark here in this world, Kirana's actions are... understandable. Partly, of course, from a mage's point of view. Given Lina's account of her, she was saving herself for a suitable candidate, in this case me, but something happened and it all came to a head.

The artist was pretty accurate about Kirana's goals, or rather, it was the artist who did it herself. The mistake is a connection with an ordinary person, the disgrace in the family tree is his presence there, and the atonement is the transfer of the Artist's magical chains to the heir. By doing so, everything will fall into place and Kirana's honor will be cleared.

The presence of the Magical Mark or its semblance is indicated by the wording, "by taking my magic and passing it on to the heir". Magical chains can be transferred and taken away, but it takes skill to do so. And from what I understand, Kirana has them.

To summarize, the source of the conflict is clear, but what is not clear is the level of such hatred and animosity. The artist could have just ignored her and sent the assassins herself, but she doesn't. Kirana is a nobody to her. She hasn't shown any semblance of care or warmth, and so the Artist shouldn't feel much for her either.

- Is that why you hate her so fiercely? - I asked, but she misunderstood my message a bit.

- Huh?! So, you're saying that I should have meekly put my head under the sword, as if I was a helpless puppet that could be thrown around at will, and just keep quiet?! She has done nothing to claim even a hair of my head, much less demand a whole life! - The Artist gritted her teeth and looked at me threateningly.

Fire danced in her gaze. No, not like that, a tsunami of fierce, raging flames that promised to burn the world itself. I could feel the mana filling her body, causing her magical circuits to flash in an ominous and intense rhythm. The artist didn't care about the pain that comes from such tension in the chains - only me sitting across from her.

- Remember, Solomon, if you think for even a moment as this woman does, I will personally kill you. This seal of yours will not hold me back. I will try to break it again and again, until your cursed magic obeys me and the life in your eyes is forever extinguished at my own hands. Do we understand each other?

I stiffened, then smiled broadly.

Yes... In front of me was exactly what had ignited the flame of interest in me. Massive and hot enough to be comparable to the sun itself. Her personality, so strong and strong-willed and determined, compels me to study her. To bow down before her strength and feel the pressure of that tremendous will. This girl, barely twenty years old, is willing to challenge me and go all the way. It's as if she's my equal... Truly magnificent.....

- Of course. Loud and clear, mistress Lavena.

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