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CHAPTER 288 Historical Discrepancies
297 AC
POV THIRD PERSON
After the discussion, Aermir got permission to enter Night's Watch's library. After a few days of research, Aermir had to get out of there since he had more pressing matters to attend to than doing research. Ned had informed him he had something he wanted to discuss before he departed.
But before that, Aermir had a question he had to ask, so he approached Maester Aemon Targaryen. Most people didn't even know he was a Targaryen. It wasn't something hidden, but he didn't state this openly either. Aermir had learned this while reading some records about Night's Watch in Winterfell library.
Aemon was a bald, wrinkled, and shrunken old man. His almost blind eyes were clouded and close to milk white. His thin, fleshless neck looked like it might snap at any moment. He might be more than 100 days old, but his mind was still as sharp as ever, and he managed his duties as the maester of Night's Watch without any problem. Maester Aemon was walking out of the room, feeling the ground with his blackthorn cane to find his way.
Aermir extended his hand in greeting. As their hands met, Aermir felt a strange, tingling sensation, a subtle thrum of magical energy that seemed to resonate within him. He briefly wondered if this could bore any connection to the legendary Targaryen's ability to control dragons.
This magical makeup felt similar, but he couldn't remember where he had felt this before. He was sure he had felt this magic somewhere else before, but the thought quickly slipped from his mind as more pressing matters took precedence.
"Maester Aemon," Aermir began, "I've been pondering over the history of the Night's Watch, and I find myself perplexed by a few things."
Aemon's milky eyes turned towards Aermir, his expression calm and attentive. "What could trouble a powerful being such as yourself, Master Druid?" he inquired gently.
Aermir took a moment to gather his thoughts before continuing. "Please just call me Druid Emrys or Emrys. There is no need for this kind of stiff talk. I've delved into the historical accounts of the Night's Watch, and I couldn't help but notice a discrepancy in the narrative. The Wall was erected to defend against the threat of the Night King and his minions. The Free Folk and the Westeros fought together to push back the darkness at the Age of Heroes. This proves we had a cooperating relationship with them, yet over time, the focus shifted to the Wildlings as the primary adversaries. How did such a fundamental shift occur, and why have these crucial historical facts been relegated to mere legends and myths rather than hard, cold facts? There isn't even one piece of parchment about this in any of the libraries I have searched."
After his family was slaughtered, Aemon had no loyalty to anyone. So his words were cutting truths: "Indeed, the history of the Night's Watch is shrouded in mystery, and it could be one of the two reasons: either it was obscured by the passage of time, or more likely systematically erased."
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Aermir had a similar reasoning: if it was the reason for erosion caused by time, there should be at least bits and pieces of information somewhere as important as Night's Watch library about what their real mission was. The only thing remotely related to Endless Night was a small passage from the Night's Watchmen's oath: " I am the sword in the darkness." but it could mean many other things.
Yes, things happened thousands of years ago, but there was no sacking or burning of books. Since the time of the Builder, Starks were the king of the North, and there had to be at least one parchment of information. Aemon continued, "We cannot only account it as willful tempering since political agendas and societal changes happen too."
Aermir shook his head, "But how could such crucial aspects of history be forgotten without any trace?" he pressed, his tone tinged with frustration. "Wasn't it Citadel's job to protect the history and knowledge? How could the Citadel allow for the erasure of these records from their libraries?"
Aemon's expression grew somber, his voice tinged with sadness. "The Citadel is a bastion of knowledge, but it is also a seat of power," he explained. "Throughout history, there have been those who seek to manipulate information for their own gain, to rewrite history to suit their purposes. So logic dictates that the Citadel could be among the ones that manipulated history."
As he sat on his chair, Aemon's old body looked tired, and he leaned on his cane. "Before me, there were many other maesters in those libraries. It is not that hard to erase one piece of information every few years to rewrite the history. Citadel was in power for thousands of years, too. The Citadel is the teacher of the next generations of lords in every region. It must have taken hundreds, maybe thousands of years, but it is possible to change it."
Aemon started to pound his cane to the ground softly, saying, "Which is more likely, an organization that is found to keep and develop knowledge makes the greatest mistake of losing an entire century of history or knowingly erasing it?"
...
Ned approached Aermir with a grave expression, his furrowed brow betraying the weight of his thoughts. "Aermir," he began, his voice low and cautious, "I've been pondering over something regarding Bran, and I thought perhaps you could shed some light on it."
Aermir nodded, his gaze attentive. "Of course, Ned. What troubles you about Bran?" Ned hesitated momentarily, continuing, "I don't think Bran is just an ordinary warg. He started to experience... peculiar dreams, visions of things he shouldn't be able to see. I've heard tales of greenseers, those blessed by the Old Gods with the ability to see prophetic dreams. Could it be possible that Bran possesses such a gift?"
Aermir's eyes widened slightly at the revelation. "It's possible," to Aermir, everything about the old stories was real; they were historical records. So greenseers could be real, too. Ned nodded, his expression grave. "I fear for what this might mean for Bran, for all of us," he looked towards the crackling heart in the room. His eyes were focused on the flames, and he said, "In all the stories, greenseers are depicted as close to insanity. I do not want a fate like that for my son."
Aermir nodded, "The power of a greenseer is not to be taken lightly, they have the ability to see slices from the future, and such an ability could turn a man mad." Aermir walked towards a chair and sat down in a tired manner, then sighed, "I never wanted to take any other of your children under my care, but it looks like it is better for Bran to spend time with other wargs and learn to control his powers as much as possible."
He looked into Ned's eyes reassuringly, "We will guide Bran as best as we can, Ned. I will try to protect him as much as possible."
Ned clasped Aermir's hand and thanked him from the bottom of his heart. "Thank you." Aermir put his hand on Ned's shoulder, "I keep telling you this, but it looks like you don't believe me. I see Rob and Jon as my brothers. If someone tries to hurt them, they have to deal with me first. I don't want to take Bran under my wings, but I will teach him, Jon and Bran, how to be druids."
Ned looked surprised, "What do you mean being a druid?" Aermir realized he didn't tell him. Rickon finally found a way to cultivate a manaheart. Of course, Aermir couldn't just teach them to be a druid without some conditions. He wasn't going to allow other magical powerhouses to grow in his backyard.
"Rickon found a way to become a druid and created his manaheart. In time, he will become a powerful caster. After what Jon lived through, I decided to teach every one of your children to be a druid so they can defend themselves, but I am going to have one condition. They cannot pass their knowledge to someone else without my permission."