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CHAPTER 244
294 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
The Moonlit Accord, as it would come to be known, marked the unification of the mountain clans under Aermir's leadership. The Moon Brothers and other clans, once fiercely independent, now saw a greater strength in unity.
As the moon cast its silvery glow over the mountain peaks, Aermir, Umar, and every other mountain clan chief sealed the pact with a symbolic exchange. The sapling of a weirwood tree was handed over to Umar by Aermir as he was the leader of this coalition.
"May this sapling serve as a reminder of our alliance, Chief Umar. Let the Moon Brothers be the beacon of the First Men's resurgence in these lands," Aermir intoned.
Umar put the sapling to the ground, and every chief brought a prisoner to the front. They forcefully made them kneel and cut their throat in one swift action. Blood of those murderers started to flow towards the weirwood sapling as Aermir continued to chant his ritual. Like snakes made out of blood, all that blood slithered to the tree, entering its roots.
Ground started to shake softly, and the tree started to vibrate. Then, at a speed visible to the eye, it started to grow. In a matter of 6 hours, it becomes a fully-grown weirwood tree. Aermir connected the newly grown tree to the root network of all the weirwood trees.
The next day, after taking care of everything else, Aermir had to return to his own castle, but this time, he didn't need to fly all the way there. He was going to use one of his new spells, a spell that allowed him to travel between weirwood trees. Before, he could only observe the area around the trees, but now, if his mana was enough, he could travel from one tree to another. However, there was one limitation, and he had to touch that tree before. He put his hand on the tree and chanted,
"Tindon Iter (root teleportation)"
One of the roots of the tree raised up and created a loop the size of Aermir, and then a blinding green light burst from the loop and stabilized like a water surface. This was a really powerful spell. To travel from the Mountains of Moon to the Moat Cailin, he had to spend all of his mana.
He took the Valyrian great axe from Umar, who was holding it respectfully and looked at it greedily. He could not help but be excited about what he would learn from this axe. He had never heard of a Valyrian steel weapon with First Men rune magic. Since it was not used but only taken care of as an heirloom, it was in a better shape than Royce's armor, but it was exhausted of its magic nonetheless.
Aermir stepped into the gate and felt like a giant sling catapulted him. He was traveling with great force and opened his eyes, but all he could see was the image of Moat Cailin's weirwood tree. He wasn't literally seeing the tree, but he was feeling its specific location. The next second, he stepped out from the weirwood tree in the middle of his private garden in Moat Cailin.
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With this spell, he experimented a lot for the next few months and found out a few things. He was the only one who was able to travel through his gates. Not even his familiars were able to use it, and he was able to bring only as much as his own weight through the gate. He was a big guy and weighed 100 kg, so it wasn't a small amount, but he wouldn't be able to carry significant amounts and be an instant traveling merchant between those trees.
...
296 AC
TODAY
Aermir's presence loomed over the village of the Moon Brothers, and the once wild and untamed warriors knelt in deference to their leader. The transformation of the tribe had been swift, a testament to Aermir's influence and the unyielding power he wielded.
Chief Umar, a once formidable figure draped in furs, now stood adorned in gleaming steel armor, a symbol of the changes that had swept through the Moon Brother tribe. His eyes, once filled with suspicion, now reflected a newfound respect for the Druid who had brought prosperity to their people. Aermir, draped in the mantle of leaves and moss, approached Umar with a nod of acknowledgment.
"I see the strength of the First Men reflected in each of your warriors. All of you are ready for what is to come!" Aermir spoke, his voice resonating through the mountain air.
Umar, though initially resistant to the idea of bowing to an outsider, found himself acknowledging the tangible benefits Aermir had brought to his tribe in those two short years. None of his or any other mountain tribesmen had died of hunger. The steel weapons and armor were but a material manifestation of the prosperity that had befallen the Moon Brothers and every other mountain clan. They had discarded their bronze or broken steel weapons and armor.
"Druid, our people have thrived under your guidance. The mountain clans have united under the banner you've unfurled, and the Moon Brothers stand ready to follow where you lead," Umar declared, his words carrying the weight of his pledge.
...
In the last two years, Aermir not only provided them with steel weapons and armor, but he also gave them 2000 enchanted swords and armor. Of course, those were not the kind of armor he was using for his own troops but were failed products.
These 2,000 weapons and armor were the work of Aermir's blacksmiths and himself when they were novices to the enchantments. They all had magical enchantments, but those things were unstable. His men were too precious to let them use those dangerous products.
Those things could explode any time they clash with another weapon and explode like a fragment grenade. Of course, they were durable in the aspect of steel, but the inscriptions or the mana inside them were faulty; they could explode after 1000 or 1 use later. Aermir thought that rather than collecting dust, it was better to use them in this battle. That is why he gives all of them to mountain clans.
He was going to give them a made-up reason, like if their belief in old gods falters while fighting, the weapons could abandon them and explode with Old Gods fury, so every time they explode and kill their user and people around them, they will just blame the user.
"These artifacts," Aermir began, addressing the gathered leaders of the mountain clans, "bear the blessings of the Old Gods. They are not mere tools but vessels of divine power. However, their strength is bound to the unwavering faith of the wielder."
The mountain clan leaders, eager to arm their warriors with such powerful weapons, listened intently as Aermir continued his explanation.
"The enchantments within are delicate, attuned to the steadfast belief in the Old Gods. Should doubt or disbelief taint the heart of the wielder, the enchantments may turn against them, unleashing the wrath of the gods themselves," Aermir elaborated, his words weaving a narrative of divine consequence.
A murmur of awe and trepidation swept through the assembled leaders. Dolf, the chief of Stone Crows, after he grabbed an axe from the weapon crate, bowed respectfully. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of reverence and anticipation.
"Druid Aermir, we accept these gifts with gratitude. Our faith in the Old Gods is unyielding, and we shall wield these weapons with the conviction that only the true believers can muster," Dolf declared, his voice echoing through the mountain pass.
Aermir shook his head and said,
"Dolf, the chief of Stone Crow, those weapons are for ordinary warriors. For the chiefs and their elite warriors who would be protecting the leaders of our army in the battle, I have brought special gifts."
Aermir pointed at a few crates that were separate from the rest. These weapons were not faulty, but they were not the best either. He couldn't give faulty weapons to the leaders and let them die on the battlefield; it would have collapsed the chain of command. He had brought a few hundred average-quality weapons and armor. This way, even if all 2000 of them got destroyed, nothing would happen to the chiefs.