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CHAPTER 207

294 AC

POV THIRD PERSON

Jorah Glover's group witnessed a truly astonishing sight as they arrived at the scene. Great Gerion Lannister, a man known for his bravery and stature, was on his knees before the Druid Emrys. Jorah had seen Gerion before; the man always had a smile on his face, but today was different. He appeared utterly disheveled and broken, having narrowly escaped the forest with his life as the sole possession left intact.

...

Once the initial shock and awe had passed, Gerion's mind began to work again. He realized that the coordinated and relentless attack by both wolves and bears was far from natural. Such a predatory alliance was unheard of in the wild; wolves and bears were known to be competitors, not collaborators. It became abundantly clear to him that this orchestrated chaos was the doing of the Druid, and an overwhelming sense of rage began to bubble up within him.

In a burst of fiery indignation, Gerion Lannister, the Laughing Lion of the Westerlands, found his voice and shouted, his tone a mix of anger and defiance, "Who are you, Druid, to unleash such savagery upon us? What madness possesses you to command the very creatures of the forest against a party of Lannister men? How dare you ambush the Lannister men? How dare you attack our convoy?"

His anger blazed like wildfire, and his words echoed through the clearing, demanding an answer from the enigmatic figure before him. Aermir did not react at first to Gerion's outburst, but after waiting a few seconds, he said in an uncaring tone:

"Are you done?" to the raging Gerion. His nonchalant demeanor seemed to further infuriate Gerion, who, in the heat of the moment, let slip an insult that he would later regret.

"You tree-hugging barba—"

Before Gerion could finish his sentence, Aermir's actions were swift and overwhelming. He gestured with his hand and muttered an incantation, summoning powerful lightning bolts that struck the ground dangerously close to Gerion, creating scorched patches of earth all around him. Gerion, terror-stricken, could do nothing but curl into a fetal position on the ground, his screams of terror echoing through the air.

But that was only the beginning. Aermir raised his hand again, this time making a gripping motion. From the ground emerged a colossal stone hand, large enough to envelop Gerion completely. It seized the Lannister lord in an iron grip, rendering him immobile.

As for Gerion's loyal men, they valiantly attempted to intervene, but their efforts were in vain. Aermir conjured a forceful gust of wind that sent them tumbling backward, gasping for breath and writhing in pain on the ground.

In this display of magical might, Aermir had effectively subdued the once-ferocious Gerion and his companions, leaving them at his mercy. Aermir's presence was overwhelming, his aura radiating power that seemed boundless. As he tightened his grip on Gerion with the stone hand, it felt as though the very earth itself was conspiring against the Lannister lord. The scorched ground from the lightning strikes crackled ominously, and the air was charged with an eerie, pulsating energy.

Gerion's heart raced, and he could feel beads of cold sweat forming on his forehead. The terror in his eyes was undeniable, and he struggled to find his voice. In the face of Aermir's wrath, he was no longer a mighty lord from Casterly Rock but a helpless, insignificant creature.

Aermir leaned closer, his eyes piercing into Gerion's soul, but all Gerion could see was two bottomless darknesses filled with unfathomable power. His voice, though cold and murderous, echoed with an underlying threat that sent chills down Gerion's spine.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

"Boy, have you forgotten to whom you speak? Do you not recognize who stands before you? How dare you utter such words in my presence!"

Gerion's mind raced, desperately searching for a way out of this perilous situation. He had never faced a foe like Aermir, and the realization of his own insignificance was crushing. When Druid Emrys came to Casterly Rock, he was out in the sea, so he didn't witness it himself, but he believed him to be a powerful caster when his brother asked him to create friendly relationships with him, but Gerion never dreamed him to be this daring to kill a Lannister party. His arrogance had led him into this confrontation, and now he faced the consequences. He was at a loss for words, sensing with every fiber of his being that the next few words he spoke could very well be his last.

Summoning what little courage remained in him, Gerion managed to stammer, "I... I apologize, my lord. I spoke out of turn. As a guest, I should never have insulted my host, but please try to be understanding. I was under a lot of duress, and it is an irrefutable fact you attacked my party and slaughtered them, is it not?"

Aermir responded nonchalantly, simply saying, "No..."

This single word was all the noble lord was going to get in response. Gerion found himself once again at a loss for words. How could Aermir be so nonchalant about this situation? Gerion was a lord from the direct Lannister bloodline. Even the king wouldn't ignore him like this and lie to his face. Timidly, Gerion asked,

"My lord, are you telling me wolves and bears attacked my party without orders?"

Aermir's response was astonishing, "Ohh, no... I ordered that."

Gerion reeled back, utterly confused. He had just confessed in front of all those people. Had the Druid thought that these people would never testify against him?

"My lord, I don't understand. How is it possible that you didn't kill my men when you are the one who gave the order?"

Aermir's response was cutting, "Did I tell you to enter the forest, or did I invite you in it?"

Gerion hesitantly answered, realizing where this was going, "No... My lord."

"Did you not see the warning posts all over the forest's edge?"

"I did."

Aermir's tone remained cold and unforgiving, "Then the one who killed your men is you, not me."

Aermir's voice rose once more, carrying even greater momentum.

"Do you think just because you are a Lannister, the rules do not apply to you? Do you believe you can waltz in anywhere you want with no consequences for your actions?"

With every word spoken, Gerion cowered a bit more. Then, with a thundering shout, Aermir declared, "We are not in Casterly Rock! This is the North! Know your place!"

Gerion felt as if thunderclaps accompanied every word of the Druid's powerful admonition. As the realization sank in, Gerion felt a profound sense of shame and regret. He had allowed his pride and arrogance to blind him to the warnings and signs around him. The Druid's show of power was a stark reminder that nobility and lineage held little sway in front of him. This was a land where the rules were different, and nature itself could be a formidable force.

At that moment, Gerion understood the consequences of his actions. He had not only endangered himself but had also led his men into a perilous situation. The deaths of his men weighed heavily on his conscience, and he couldn't escape the fact that he was responsible for their fate.

The Druid's thunderous words echoed in his ears, a reminder of the vast difference in power and authority between the Druid and the rest of the realm. It was a humbling experience for the Lannister lord, one that would stay with him for the rest of his days. With great regret, Gerion said,

"You are right, my lord. I am the one that killed my men with my thirst for adventure," Gerion admitted, realizing the gravity of his actions.

With a wave of his hand, the colossal stone hand turned into dust, and Druid Emrys responded with boisterous laughter. "Don't sweat it; it happens. You are just a man; men do make mistakes."

Gerion watched in awe as the Druid turned his attention to the bleeding wound on his arm. "Ohh, let's fix that arm of yours," the Druid said with a casual tone.

With a wave of his arm and some muttered incantations, Druid Emrys mended the wound on Gerion's arm in a matter of seconds. Though a scar remained, it appeared as if the injury had healed long ago. Gerion was both astonished and again humbled by the Druid's extraordinary abilities. In the midst of his amazement, he couldn't help but chuckle as he grasped the lesson that had been so powerfully imparted.

As the Druid finished tending to him, Gerion realized that this encounter had served its purpose. Now, in the eyes of Druid Emrys, he was just like any other man; he was nothing special. With this realization, Gerion started to laugh heartily. He was just an example. That was all he was to the Druid.

Druid Emrys turned toward Jorah Glover and said, "Jorah, take care of Lord Gerion and welcome him in the Temple. I will be back in a week or so, maybe."

"As you wish, my lord," Jorah replied, nodding respectfully. He gestured for Gerion to follow him and turned to the remaining Lannister men, who were still on the ground after the Druid's display of power. "Help your comrades and get up. We have much to do."

Gerion followed Jorah, grateful for the chance he had been given. The Druid could easily kill him; he was not going to squander this second lease in life. As they headed towards the Temple, he couldn't help but reflect on the events of the day and the valuable lessons he had learned from the enigmatic Druid.