POV: The Watcher;
Abandoned village Snow Mill.
Year 286, the sixth day of the fifth moon.
About three weeks after the white crow arrived at Torrhen's Square...
Zick, still not quite sure why his pupil, had asked him and the company moved to the old village of Snow Mill after the roadworks had been completed and proper accommodation and training facilities had been built. Now renamed: 'Bloody Camp'.
They had been here about two weeks and today... the time had finally come when Zick would personally follow the boy.
The appointment was after dinner.
That evening, after a nutritious and well-digested meal...
Zick and Duncan stood in the center of a closed room. Two fireplaces and a new iron device called a 'stove' heated the room.
The stove was a new product that was appearing in almost every home in the North, currently manufactured in the Tallhart lands and sold by House Hornwood.
Outside the structure, the wind was blowing hard and disruptive.
The bite of Winter's chill could be felt even indoors.
A normal person dressed in ordinary clothes could freeze to death in less than 30 minutes if they stayed outside.
Zick, covered from head to toe in two layers of wool and fur, was standing by the stove.
His pupil Duncan, now nicknamed 'Bloody Snow' throughout the world, was less than 15 feet away, dressed in much lighter clothing. He stood there motionless, waiting for instructions.
"Well, Duncan. I suppose you're curious to know, 'What mysterious and freaky training method will The Watcher himself teach you?'" Zick said, giving a small smile.
"None of your teachings are wacky, Master Zick. Thank you for allowing me the honor of your guidance." Duncan replied.
"Duncan, Duncan...if you continue to flatter me like this, I will have to stop training...
I would not have the heart to see you suffer the pains of Hell that this training will bring upon your body and mind...
I'll ask you again:
Are you sure you want to learn this technique, Duncan of House Tallhart?" Zick asked, making a wry smile at first but becoming serious towards the final question.
"Yes, Master!" The boy did not hesitate for a single second in answering.
"The pain you have experienced so far is nothing compared to what you will face...
Your body will be torn apart and rebuilt in its entirety.
It will be a slow process and, at the risk of sounding repetitive, very... VERY PAINFUL.
There is no guarantee that you will be able to complete the training and all that suffering you will have to go through may have been paid for in vain.
Are you aware of this, boy?
Even if your body were to somehow endure, your mind could be permanently damaged...
Having said all that...
Do you still want to learn this technique?" Zick asked. A small part of him hoped the boy would answer no.
"YES, MASTER ZICK!" Duncan.
"...So be it." Zick closed his eyes, smiling as he spoke those words.
After a few seconds of silence, Zick began the lesson.
"Before I show you the technique, allow me to tell you the story behind its creation...
When I was still an infant in swaddling clothes, I was picked up and raised by a slave, a direct servant of the wife of a famous lanista in Meereen. This woman, who for me will always remain my true and only mother, was the wife of a gladiator. This gladiator, who I will always consider as my true and only father, was the lanista's champion...
His name was Vharro...
Vharro, also known as 'Blade of a Hundred Eyes'.
Our lanista master was very forgiving and kind. He was one of the few slavers in Meereen who would never do unnecessary harm to his slaves. He even made sure they were all well-fed and healthy.
He had no problem rewarding his due to anyone who brought value to his House. His wife was even kinder.
It is also because of them that this technique exists.
I was allowed to attend my father's every training and fight.
Vharro had a very rare physical condition...
His pain receptors were not functioning properly.
If he had placed his hand on a burning brazier, what for others would commonly have been a fiery agony, for my father the sensation would have been like holding a stone heated by the sun...
I know what you are thinking and yes, in combat such disease can be very useful but it also has other disadvantages.
Pain is our alarm bell, signaling that something is wrong with our body. If a severe arm injury debilitates the arm so that it does not function properly and its owner is unaware of this, it could prove fatal to a warrior.
Before I was able to contribute to my father's training, Vharro suffered countless wounds during a fight. His body was covered in hundreds of scars. Our master spared no expense with healers and medical supplies...
Therefore, he and I together created a new fighting technique and style, which we both felt was the most suitable.
We called it [Closure of the Sixteen Gates].
Currently renamed [Closing Twenty-one Gates]...
This technique applies to any one-handed melee weapon.
It can also be easily adapted for two-handed staffs, axes, and broadswords. And of course also for your current sword and shield style.
My father and I, during those years that were the happiest of my life, managed to develop sixteen positions and body movements that gave Vharro unparalleled attack and defense...
After developing that technique, my father was nicknamed Vharro 'Blade of a Hundred Eyes'.
The technique was very effective, practically unbeatable in a 1-on-1 fight... But a rival competitor of our master, fearing for his prestige in Meereen and that of his champion, attacked our House by surprise.
Only myself, the lanista's wife, and a small handful of slaves managed to escape to safety that night..." Zick paused for a moment, remembering the sad events of the past.
After a few seconds, Duncan broke the silence to ask:
"Master. What was the name of your mother, the lanista, and his wife? Even their names deserve to be etched in history."
Zick raised his head again and stared at the boy, giving him a huge warm smile.
"Ahahahahaha!!! I assure you, my boy, you are one of the few to ask me that question...
The lanista's name was: Nobaru Zhao Urat.
The name of his wife, who is currently still alive, is Zishua Zhao Urat.
The name of his handmaiden who saved me from my misery was Binnheva. This was my mother's name...
I thank you from the bottom of my heart for asking." Zick said, expressing pure happiness in both voice and facial expression.
"Now that I've wiped these old, tired eyes, let's pick up the story where we left off. On the night of the attack...
A hundred gladiators, a hundred mercenaries, and...a hundred Unsullied, attacked the noble house of Zhao Urat by surprise. Only about forty guards and gladiators were able to arm themselves quickly to try and resist the attack. My father was at the head of that group. Three hundred against forty...I don't need to tell you how it ended...
However, they managed to hold out long enough for a few souls to escape unharmed. I saw my father shoot down forty-four of the enemy before abandoning him to his fate. Only the Unsullied were not afraid to approach him.
All of this is largely due to the technique [Closing the Sixteen Gates]...you know what I mean?
Over the years, I have been able to refine and increase the style to [ twenty-one gates].
If a warrior were to master all twenty-one gates, even if I were to somehow manage to heal my physical condition, that would be an opponent that even I would not want to face in a fight to the death...
The reward would be proportionate to the price that must be paid for it.
If you succeed in such a feat, my boy, no one, and I mean NO ONE, would be able to defeat you in a fair 1 vs 1 fight.
...Well, at least no one that I know of! AHAHAHAHAH!" Zich laughed heartily for a few seconds.
Then he stopped when he saw the boy raise a hand to ask a question.
"Yes, Duncan? Ask away, my boy." Zick.
"Master Zick, is twenty-one gates the limit of technique?" Duncan.
"...Actually, no...
I have two more gates in mind...
I think twenty-three gates is the limit...at least what my mind can process.
I can't put those movements into the technique yet, because my body is not able to experience them...
I could only do it if someone could master the previous twenty-one gates." Zick replied, inwardly praising his pupil.
"If I ever manage to master the twenty-one gates, would you teach me the remaining two Master Zick?" Duncan.
"No Duncan...
If you ever manage to master those twenty-one movements, I will be the one asking if you could do me the honor of showing me the last two.
If that day ever comes, I could die with a smile on my face and no regrets, my boy." Said, Zick.
The man saw the boy's face splash with determination before saying:
"I have found him at last, Master." Duncan.
"Found what?" Zick.
"The way to repay you for all you've done for me and my House, Master. I promise, I, Duncan of House Tallhart,
will do everything in my power to one day show you the way." Duncan.
Zick stared into the boy's face, activating his inhuman powers of perception to the utmost.
He found no trace of lie or doubt in his face...
"Ahahahahah!!!
Be careful what you promise boy...
There was only one individual that I believed could master the technique up to the sixteenth gate.
That person had an innate talent and intuition for the martial art...somehow he managed to develop, on his own, his variation up to the tenth gate. It took him: an iron will, years of suffering, and hard work..." Said Zick with a tone of challenge.
"Who was Master?" Duncan.
"A young knight I saw the fight in person years ago.
They nicknamed him 'The Sword of The Morning'...
So...Duncan of House Tallhart, would you like to change your overly-expressed promise?" Zick.
"At the risk of sounding arrogant and prejudiced...
No Master Zick! " Duncan.
"Enough talk.
It's time to show you the first sixteen movements.
Activate your breathing technique to the utmost of your ability...
and observe very carefully, Duncan.
I will only be able to do this once every four days."
"YES, Master Zick!" The boy began to concentrate on his breathing.
About ten minutes later...
Zick had just finished completing the last movement wielding his training longsword. Each of those movements had been executed with unparalleled slowness, grace, and fluidity.
The man was exhausted and mentally exhausted...
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After a minute spent catching his breath he asked:
"Tell me everything you've been able to notice." Zick.
The boy's face was like stone, his gaze expressing astonishment and disbelief.
He remained motionless for another minute, which Zick allowed him.
The boy would have to process a myriad of information.
"There's...there's no opening...
I...I could never find it..." Replied the boy in an enchanted enchanting voice.
"You're wrong boy...
There are openings. Even in the twenty-three opening technique there are bound to be some...though?" Zick wanted Duncan to finish the explanation.
"...We're not able to see them though....
Not yet at least." Duncan.
"Correct answer." Zick.
"What else did you see?" Zick continued to ask.
"Those movements... they were unnatural.
A normal person, shouldn't be able to do them." Duncan.
"Yes and No...
To make those movements, you'll have to use bundles of muscles and ligaments that you're not used to using. We use them only minimally during our childhood. Afterward, by observing and learning from the movements of our parents and other role models, we lose the habit. Theoretically, every human being should be able to do them...but for every day that we don't, they atrophy and it becomes more and more difficult to be able to stimulate them.
Even my father, who perceived pain on a very small scale, suffered while awakening these parts of his body.
It is like trying to reshape your developed foot to fit into a boot that is too small...
The pain will be excruciating, you will have to stimulate, stretch, break and rebuild parts of your body. The sensation is like a thousand needles going in and out of whole sections of tissue...
My boy, you are in no way forced to go through such hell. Vharro could train with these techniques three times longer than any normal human being could... and it took him five years of constant training to assimilate sixteen gates.
Thanks to the anointing and tonics that Measter Qyburn is providing,
you should be able to practice these movements for up to two hours a day with training sessions every other day...
Nevertheless, the pain will not subside for at least the next six months. " Zick said in a serious but calm tone...
then concluded by asking.
"For the last time, Duncan of House Tallhart, do you feel ready to start this kind of training?" Zick.
"...No...I'm not, Master.
But I still want to do it."
End POV.
---------
POV: An uneducated villager.
In a village in the Tallhart lands.
Three months after a certain training began...
Jessy a farmer, married and father of two, was sitting comfortably in one of those new pieces of furniture recently purchased from merchants in House Flint. He and his wife, Benna, were looking forward to this time of day.
The time for stories...
Their oldest daughter, seven-year-old Jinny, had just over two months ago learned to read.
It had become a custom in the village. House Tallhart had built a small facility in each village, called a school.
A teacher taught all the children in the village from the age of four to fifteen. Older people could also attend the lessons free of charge if they wished.
Some did, while others preferred other types of education.
In the school, they taught: reading and writing, history, a subject called 'Ethics' and mathematics.
Not only was it free of charge but every time a pupil attended a lesson, Tallhart House provided necessities such as:
Food, medicine, soap, wood, and charcoal are enough to sustain an adult for an entire day.
Her daughter would have been able to survive on her own even if she had only continued to go to school. Every day there were four compulsory hours of schooling, six days a week, two additional hours of choice.
The pupil, who chose to take those extra classes for a week in a row, would be rewarded with enough sweets for four people and the pupil's family would be rewarded with a silver stags...
Both he and his wife, like many others in the village, had chosen this fruitful option without any complaints.
These were just some of the novelties in the village. For the past year, the changes included:
1) Provision of a steel card for each villager. In which was engraved the name, age, hair color, eye color, and occupation of each individual. Once a week, two Ranger soldiers together with a scribe would knock on the door of each house and carry out a check and provide the necessary rewards and supplies. The strange card with serial symbols engraved on it, which his daughter had identified as numbers, was called an 'Identity Card'. Every five years it had to be renewed to confirm or renew the information about the person.
2) A facility called 'Public Baths' was built, with which they were able to wash the body even in the middle of winter... In addition, special facilities were set up for those who had to urinate or defecate. The urine collectors were called 'Vespasians'...the others 'Manure collectors'...These facilities bore the symbol of Manderly House.
3) Each house was provided with a strange new type of iron chimney, called a 'Stove', free of charge... It heated the house more evenly. They only had to feed it occasionally with coal which lasted three times longer than wood and was cheaper.
4) Every villager, both male and female, from the age of ten to sixty, was obliged to take a course in archery, the use of a new type of ironwood stick called a 'truncheon' and barehanded disarmament techniques.
5) Any unemployed man or woman (most are farmers who do not work in winter) could choose to take a course of their choice, which included: Healing, Crafts (various options), Watching and Monitoring, Hunting and Building. In addition, one could apply for a permit to be instructed in one or more types of weapon of one's choice...Jessy had chosen the latter and surveillance. His wife Benna a sewing course. Both of them, running the courses for four hours a day at the same time as their children's schooling, were paid 3 copper stars a day. If they completed the course, they could also choose to change trades and get paid work at minimum wage (i.e. two silver stags a day...every day of the year with one day a week of paid rest...).
Jessy, before fertilisers and agricultural tools were implemented in farming techniques, hardly earned that amount of money...besides he was the only one who brought monetary income to their house.
6) Once a month, a bard, paid by House Tallhart, would come to the village. To provide entertainment and fun for the whole village.
7) Fixed patrols consisting of five well-armed and trained soldiers would patrol the village night and day.
The patrols rotated from village to village. By now almost every village was connected to a main road of the new 'Northern Road Network'. Minor roads, however, built in the same way, were cleaned of ice and snow every day. Trade caravans could come and go as never before.
8) A medical facility where a healer was always present was open to all. Everyone had one visit per month free of charge and, in case of emergency, any medical costs were accessible and affordable for everyone.
9) All those who had suffered a bereavement in the family,
had the right to request a funeral rite, a slab of granite with the name of the deceased engraved on it, and 3 silver moons...but on condition that the deceased was cremated in a pyre rather than buried.
Or they could 'donate' the body to the village healer in exchange for double the sum.
Jessy had already instructed Benna to sell his body to the healer, Fred, in the event of his untimely demise. He cared nothing for her corpse, but he would be more relieved in the afterlife to know that his family had spare silver in their pockets.
But now, it was time for the best novelty and habit of all. Reading stories...
Her daughter Jinny, when she had been promoted along with other pupils, and had been officially certified as a ''Northern Inhabitant Able to Read and Write'', had been rewarded with several books.
Those books contained several exciting stories that were very pleasant to listen to. It was very boring being cooped up inside the house day and night. Every night before going to sleep, Jinny would read him and his wife part of a story.
There were new stories he had never heard before, such as:
[The Giant, the Son of the Forest and the Free People's Boy ];
[Tale of a Young and Aspiring Wizard];
[Ser Sandor, 'the Fearless Scarred'];
[The Slave who became King among Kings];
[The Alchemist];
[The Healer Who Saved the World]
[The Master Craftsman];
[The Vigilant Hero of the Night];
[The Knight Without Honor];
[The Most Beloved Unlucky Dwarf];
[The Banker, The Pope and The Archmaester]...The latter was not recommended for children under eleven...He or his wife would have to learn to read or wait until Jinny was eleven...(what a nuisance!)
And finally [The Shield Maiden]...his wife and daughter's favourite.
To Jessy's misfortune, that was the night it was their turn to choose and they would definitely choose the latter.
Forty minutes after Benna and Jessy cleaned the dining table.
The whole family was by the fireplace while Jinny read aloud the novel [The Shield Maiden].
{The evil Superintendent Palpatine, was standing over the execution stage. Beside him were two armed guards holding down poor Ser Aragon. The last of the sworn knights of the true King of Gondor, Isildur.
The oppressed people of Minas Tirith watched on their knees surrounded by a thousand soldiers loyal to Palpatine.
Ser Aragon caught a glimpse of his squire in male disguise, Brienne, in the centre of the square. Knight and squire met hundreds of feet apart...
Aragon even caught a glimpse of the redness in the eyes of his protégé, whom he dubbed 'The Shield Maiden'.
Only Aragon knew that Brienne was no mere commoner's child... She was the rightful heir to the throne of Gondor, the only surviving daughter of Isildur himself. She was Princess Brienne Pendragon, the last surviving descendant of Isildur...}
"Mother...Guuaaahh...I'm tired, can we reschedule for another night?" Jinny asked, yawning conspicuously.
"WHAT?! NO!....emm I mean, no honey, could you please hold on just a little longer? Your father and I would like to know what happens next. Could you do that for us, honey?" Benna asked, hugging her husband tightly.
Their youngest son Ben was already sleeping blissfully in his cot.
"Yes, honey! Please! We can't go to sleep without knowing what happens next. I mean, King Theoden and the Knights of Rohan, they haven't even arrived yet! Not to mention that bum Gandalf! What on earth is that useless wizard doing!? He promised Ser Aragon that he would arrive by dawn on the fifth day!" Jessy.
"SHHHTTT! You'll wake little Ben!" Benna.
"Ah. Sorry, honey." Jessy calmly replied.
"Mommy, Daddy...if you want to get ahead in the story, why don't you learn to read? The teacher always tells us that 'A people who can't read and write, are an easy people to deceive'...Besides, Genna's parents are already coming to class along with many other fathers and mothers." Jinny.
"..." Both of them remained silent with embarrassment.
"My darling, let's do this, if you keep reading some more, your father and I will come to the class tomorrow." Jessy turned around staring at his wife in disbelief. Benna glowered at her husband in response.
"Yes, honey, mommy and I will come. I promise." Said Jessy in a resigned tone.
"Alright, deal." Jinny resumed reading.
{Ser Aragon, had sworn to his dying King Isildur that he would protect his daughter in any way he could. That's why Aragon kept it a secret...While forcing Brienne into a life of hardship, he preferred her safe rather than noble, rich but headless.
Palpatine had made a deal with Aragon. If the Knight had announced to the people of Gondor, that he and only he, was the rightful King, he would have spared Aragon's life...}
"NO! Do not believe him, Aragon! He had made a similar promise to Ser Lancelot without keeping it!!!... emm... sorry honey, go ahead." Bucket.
"I was saying..." Jinny.
{He would have spared Aragon's life. The Superintendent signaled his guards to release the unarmed Knight.
Aragon, as agreed, leaned forward to be better heard...he was silent for a minute, looked at the sun for a moment and after giving a small smile said loudly:
"PEOPLE OF GONDOR!...
To all of you who are on your knees, I, Ser Aragon Randar, Hand of Isildur Pendrangon, announce what I believe to be right from the bottom of my heart...
All of us will never know our true height until we are called to rise! And if we are true to our task, our stature will rise to the heavens! The heroism we would then perform would be of every day... IF ONLY WE DID NOT BOW DOWN IN FEAR OF BEING RULERS OF OUR FATE!!!
Therefore... ARISE, SER BRIENNE PENDRAGON, FIRST KNIGHT AND PROTECTOR OF GONDOR!!!
This announced Ser Aragon... And a moment before the executioner's blade reached his neck... he looked one last time at the sky and at his friend Gandalf, who was descending from the heavens at the side of King Theoden of Rohan, leading an army of knights riding giant eagles...
Everything went dark from that moment on}...
"NOOOO!!!! ARAGONNNNN!!!!!!!!!" Two shocked parents roared in unison in tears...
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