Prologue

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Lannisport, the largest settlement in all of Westerland, was a marvel to behold. Located at the coast of the Sunset Sea and just a stone's throw away from Casterly Rock, the seat of the Noble House of Lannister, was a thriving hub of trade and industry. Fueled by gold mined from the Rock, wealth flowed in and out of the city through its ports. Ships from the various corners of Westeros and beyond plied their trade in its ports. There, in its markets, one could find silks, spices, and even companionship for a fee if one so chose. Truly, it was a city of wonder... that is, if one was rich and had plenty of coins to spare.

For those like him, a lonely orphan boy tossed into this world with nothing but the clothes on their back, it was a far different matter. Far from the markets bristling with wares and produce from far off lands and away from the foundries and forges where goldsmiths shaped wonders, were the slums of Lannisport. Like every major city from the past and present, fictional or not, Lannisport attracted the masses as the unimaginable wealth flowing through its street promised a life of ease if they just worked hard enough.

Unfortunately for these prospectors, the sheer wealth of the city made it quite expensive to live in; supply, demand, and whatnot brought by the very same gold that fueled this city. Simply put, for the same amount of coins, he could have bought more food from a nearby village rather than the city’s market itself. Unlike the rest of its citizens, though, he wasn’t stuck in the city.

Poking his head out of a portal he’d opened up in a hidden alleyway, he peered around looking for any signs of danger before stepping out with a large staff of gnarled wood in one hand and his loot in the other. Adjusting his grip upon the large, worn, wicker basket filled to the brim with various root crops, vegetables, and even some preserved meats, he hummed merrily as he walked back into the narrow and winding streets of downtown Lannisport.

Adjusting his black ratty cloak to hide his starkwhite hair and lavender eyes, he walked swiftly and kept his head down; lest they see his glowing eyes. Despite his caution, his mere presence was already attracting attention, both unsavory and unwanted. Mothers pulled their children aside as he passed by. Working men glared at him, with one spitting at his feet, which had him looking up in distaste.

With a swift tap of his staff on the ground, fire bloomed atop his only weapon. Seeing the old codger flinch back and back away from meeting his glowing eyes was satisfying but, ultimately, pointless and a bit painful if he did it wrong. He winced as he rubbed his stomach, feeling the strain he put in his magical core.

The only person he met along the way that didn’t absolutely loathe his guts was a city watch official patrolling this side of the slums. Recognizing the man, especially with his pox scarred face that had long since healed, he greeted him, “Yo Connor, same treatment as always? Pay day’s just around the corner.”

The man only rolled his eyes despite the cheeky grin spreading across his face, “Oh fuck off, Myrddin,” The man growled back without heat. He chuckled as he passed by without much trouble. Who knew that healing venereal diseases would net you quite the good will from the guards?

As he walked back home, his mind wandered to that of his name. Myrddin, that was the name that the people of Lannisport gave him after he woke up in its streets. With no money nor family to back him and being far too old for an orphanage, his start in this world was quite rocky. The only saving grace he had was that he did not have to sell his body to earn enough of a living thanks purely to the powers he had, powers given to him by a greater being.

Staring up at Casterly Rock as it stood proudly in the distance, he grumbled, “Now how the hell am I going to get up there in a world where I’m not a noble.”

Shaking his head, he reminded himself that he was just starting out. It had been barely three months since he started off his journey. He still had a long way to go and plenty of time to achieve his goals, “Either get a harem, master a power, or finish the story. Easy enough right?” He whispered, reminding himself of the goal given to him as he tossed into this world. Passing by a black banner emblazoned with a red, three headed dragon, he quickly added, “Just survive the fucking civil war.”

His musings would soon come to an end as his home came into view, a nice and lovely shack tucked in a corner. It was a two story house made in a typical manner for the time, a smaller base and the top extending over the street to take advantage of what little space was available; spacious but would burn down once a fire started. Such was the faith of a house in medieval times.

With how it blended with the other houses in this street, it was quite unassuming if not for the placard hanging above the door frame, the symbol of a snake entwined to that of the staff of Mercury. It might not have meant much to the people of Westeros, but it did what he needed it to do advertise his specific service.

Slipping inside his shack through the back door, he dropped off his goods to check on the clinic he had attached to his house. There, he was immediately greeted by a young mother holding a pale and sickly boy. As soon as he heard the boy coughing his lungs out, along with the blood on his lips and and in his mouth, he already had an inkling of what he was suffering with.

“Ohh Myrridin, thank the heavens you are here! Please, please save my boy!” The woman wailed as she got up from the refurbished seats he had for his makeshift clinic. She was the only one inside the sunlit room which made his work load for today quite light.

He raised his staff, stopping the woman from getting too close before he lowered it back down. The mother was panicked but at least she wasn’t pushing the patient to his face, “Now what seems to be the problem?” He asked as he gestured for them back to sit down. He had some idea, but best to let them know that he cared enough for them that he’d listen, that and he could always be wrong. Sitting down on his comfortable wicker chair, he leaned back as he listened to the woman's concerns.

“O-oh heavens, it’s horrible. One moment my little boy was just playing until he started coughing and became feverish. We thought it was just a nasty cold but when he started coughing blood, we knew something was wrong!” The woman recounted her son, telling him exactly what kind of disease he was facing here.

“Bloody Consumption,” He muttered which had the woman bawling as their worst fear came to light. Consumption, or rather Tuberculosis, was a deadly disease that targeted the lungs. Most people actually had it in their lungs, but not all people are affected equally. In a world before vaccines and antibiotics it was a death sentence. It was a wasting disease that sapped the vitality of people, making them wither until they died, gasping for air.

“Please, oh please save him. You’re the only one we can turn to. I heard you healed old Davis of the bloody flux, surely your gifts can heal my boy?” The woman begged him, getting to her knees as she held up her boy. He really was her only hope as only the rich could afford the care of a maester.

“You came to the right place,” He told her as he got up and extended his staff up against the boy’s chest. Through his gift, he could feel the boy's ailments, the disease eating away at his lungs. Dipping into his reserves, light formed at the end of his staff as healing light touched the boy. It was not quite the cure yet, but some color returned to the boy’s cheeks.

“This will ease his pain for a bit while we discuss your payment. My services are not free, after all. My bloody landlord’s been bugging me about my lease, even if it’s not yet time,” He reminded her. As much as he wanted to heal everyone for free, he couldn’t afford to heal them without repayment. He still needed to live and there was the matter of his landlord. He did not own his house just yet, he still didn’t have the funds to do so, but he soon would have.

“O-of course. We’re but a humble family and we can’t pay much, but if it means my boy could live I’m willing to offer our prized hens,” The woman offered, making his purse his lips as he considered the prospect. As his gaze landed upon the woman’s rough clothing, he could already see she was struggling. The chicken in her hand did look well kept and healthy as it crowed in its cage.

“She’s one of our younger layers, but she’s from a great stock. I know you usually charge more but we’ll give you more once my husband gets his act together, I swear on the seven!” The woman promised her as she clutched her child close to her chest. “A-and you require some flowers right? Would dandelions work?” She then asked as she pulled out some bundles of flowers with her shaking hands.

He could turn her around, as she really did not have the payment necessary, but this was a plague in the making. Damned if he did, damned if he didn't. With a sigh, he reached down and opened the cage to inspect the bird. The hen was surprisingly docile in his hands as he lifted it up and checked its body. Just as he suspected, the bird was plump and its feathers glossy; this was a well kept bird.

“This, this will do,” He nodded, making up his mind. He was going to do the thing which would weigh less on his mind. Slipping the bird back to its cage, he added, “She will do nicely.”

“R-really? Oh thank you!” The woman thanked him profusely and he had to gesture to her to stop so he could actually do his work.

“Don’t thank me just yet. I still have a patient to save,” He replied as he grabbed the bundles of flowers before walking up to a nearby shelf to get his incense burner and other nicknacks. Pulling up a chair he specifically had for patients, he instructed her, “Now, have him sit on the table while I perform my ritual.”

Placing the flowers and some fragrant herbs in his burner, he lit them up with a snap of his finger as he started his “ritual.” Walking around them and babbling nonsense, all of it really didn’t matter in the end. He just needed to make enough show for them to really believe in it, much like how one believes that all vacuum cleaners must be loud to be effective or how soap needed to be bubbly. It wasn’t for the benefit of his patient, but rather that of their family.

As his chanting reached its peak, he raised his hands as he guided his healing powers to his palm, “Begone!” He shouted before slapping the half delirious boy on the cheek, much to the horror of the woman. The boy coughed loudly, spitting out a black mass down on the floor before he gasped out in shock as awareness and color returned to him in full.

“David! What have you done, you monster!?” The woman wailed as she launched herself at the boy, shielding him with her body, but the anger in her eyes would soon be replaced with bewilderment as she started feeling the boy’s forehead.

“M-mama? What’s going on? Where are we?” The young boy asked as he yawned, as if waking up from a bad sleep. His face scrunched up as he licked his lips before he started to brush it with his forearm.

“My baby! Oh my poor baby!” The woman cried happily as tears of joy dripped down her cheeks. Her boy was healed. Did he really have to slap the shit out of the boy? No. Was it funny to slap them and see their loved ones panic? Yes. It was hilarious, especially when they got all confused afterwards.

Pointing his staff as the black slime, a small jet of fire spouted and burnt it till nothing was left. Sure his magic purged the boy of all his illnesses, but he’d rather not wait for that thing to infect others. With a gesture of his hands, wind pushed open the windows as he directed the air inside the clinic out, much to the confusion and fright of the woman. The boy, on the other hand, cried out in wonder as he reached out to touch the smoke as it was carried away.

“Make sure to keep him away from those with the consumption. Most of us are immune to it as those who aren’t usually die off before they can have children. Your child isn’t so lucky,” He told her as he opened the door for them. Now that the boy was healed, his service was done. He didn’t want them to stay any longer. Thankfully, the woman got his unspoken message as he hastily nodded before they left him without a word, her face ashen while her child remained confused but amazed at what had just happened.

Yes, he could have charged more, but he was a bleeding heart. It cost him dearly, but he got more out of it than mere monetary gains, he gained reputation, and it wasn’t like he was strapped for cash. He could afford the lease on this house and he’s already saving up to buy the property.

There is also the fact that the Faith had yet to descend on him like a pack of angry crows. He was a wizard performing magic quite overtly, yet his service to his community made him far too valuable. So long as he kept his rate low enough, he could earn enough good will so as to not be touched. It was a terribly delicate balance at work but sooner or later, he was bound to catch the attention of a noble and he could ditch this work. He just hoped that he would catch the attention of the right one as he did not want to end up on the losing side.

LIfting up the cage and dragging the chair he used for his patients back to its proper place, he smiled as he poked the dumb looking bird, “Now, let’s get you something to eat so I can have some eggs,” he whispered to the bird as he carried it off to the kitchen where it could eat the scraps of his meal. He quickly paused and walked back to his seat as he heard something from outside.

Setting his pet/source of food aside for now, he returned to his chair as he listened closely. “C-Cersei, this is a horrible idea! We should turn back. We shouldn’t be in Lannisport without an escort anyway! There could be brigands or thieves just around the corner!” A young girl’s voice called out, making him freeze at the name. No, it couldn’t be… but could it? There were hundreds of Cersei in Westerland, but there was only one of note that he had to admit he was attracted to; even if she was a horrible cunt in the far future.

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“I have to agree with Jeyne here. It’s one thing to go to a wood witches shack in the forest and it’s another to go to one in the city,” Another voice agreed. He honestly couldn’t remember the names of the girls with Cersei, so it was a futile effort at best. Still, it’s both a relief and a cause of concern that his name has already reached this level of fame.

“If you don’t shut up, we’ll definitely attract the wrong kind of attention. Besides, we’re already here. Just follow my lead and we’ll be fine,” A third and final voice insisted. Well, there was no use in twiddling his thumbs. Best to make quite the impression.

As the door to his clinic opened, he made his move. With the snap of his fingers, the unlit candles in his clinic lit up, illuminating him in their soft glow. They stopped dead in their tracks, eyes locked on to him. Their faces, even under the cover of their well made cloak, couldn’t hide their looks of shock and wonder which had him grinning with pride. First impressions were quite the powerful tool.

“You know, you should really listen to your friends. You’re a long way from home, young lady, but lucky for you, I’m not one to take advantage of lapses of judgment,” He lectured them as he gestured for them to take a seat, “Close the door behind you if you will. It’s best to keep this meeting in private company,” He then added, which they promptly ignored as he the last girl merely pulled it as she got in. He shrugged, seeing no harm as it’s not like anyone would barge into his clinic without good reason.

“So, you’re the Witch of Lannisport. I expected far more theatrics and magic. All I see is smoke and mirrors,” The leader of the trio, a blonde whom he assumed was Cersei, spoke up confidently even while she eyed him warily as she walked up to him and took a seat. Her friends followed suit as they dragged a chair to flank the young teen.

Slowly, he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sighed out, “Gods damn it, it’s Wizard, not Witch ok? I swear, I’ll wring the neck of the person that spread that title around. Maybe I shouldn’t have let my hair grow this long,” Yes it was his vanity that landed him in this situation, but he wanted to look fabulous.

Pushing down his frustration, he slumped in his seat as he continued, “Anyways, where was I? Ahh, yes, the name’s Myrridin, all powerful wizard and healer extraordinaire. With the right price, I can perform miracles the likes of which you can barely imagine. Now who might you be?”

“You’re a man? But you sound and look like a…” Cersei spoke up, blinking in surprise at the revelation only for her reply to shrivel up as he stared at her. Clearing her throat and puffing up her chest, she introduced herself and her motley crew, “Cersei, My name is Cersei Lannister, Daughter of Twynin Lannister and these are my ladies in waiting, Jeyne Farman and Melera Hitherspoon.”

Jeyne, the bigger of the two remained quiet as she shrunk into her seat while Melera, the freckled one, managed to squeak a reply, “H-hi.”

He snorted as he straightened up from his seat and leaned forward. So these three were really noble women in disguise, out in the city looking for the famed “witch” of the slums. Either Cersei was far braver than he realized or dumber than he thought, maybe both as the line between the two could be oftentimes hazy.

“Like I said, a long way from home. So what can I do for you? You certainly want my services if you came here on your own volition. Best to make it quick as you certainly wouldn’t want to be out here by the time the sun sets,” he asked them as he gestured at the window to the outside. Noon had yet to pass, but plenty of caution was healthy in this part of town.

“I require your services Wi-Wizard. I want to know my future, will you be able to show me my fate?” The girl asked him. So that was what she wanted.

He merely smiled at the girl as he proudly replied, “Nope! Clairvoyance is not included in my services. I do elemental work and healing, not peering into the future. This sign here says it all.” He gestured at the small sign he had commissioned. From what little he could understand about the writing from his studies, it told the girls plenty enough of what he could do. “Besides, even if I could, I would not give you a reading,” he swiftly added, making sure to stamp out any ideas she might have.

That, however, was not the right answer for the noble woman in front of him as she shouted in anger, “W-what? I came all the way here for nothing!” Her friends tried to calm her down as they begged her to not raise her voice, but she was seeing no reason to as she huffed, demanding an explanation from him.

“And why not! Do you know who my father is? He can have your head on a pike with but a word, Wizard,” She threatened him which had him chuckling in amusement. She was entertaining at the very least but she did not appreciate it one bit as her cheeks reddened and the glare she leveled at him only got angrier.

Getting up from his seat, he slowly circled to her back before placing both his hands on her shoulder. The girl jolted in surprise as she looked up at him in fear. Holding her down the best he could, he then asked her, “To ask one’s fate is to curse one’s self to a predetermined future. Would you really want to deny yourself agency in your own path in life? Would you really want to give up the peace of mind you have to know a future, even if it could be terrible? Would you really be willing to shackle yourself to a prophecy that could utterly consume you?”

He could see the conflict in her eyes as she looked away, reconsidering her options, but she remained resolute as she looked up at him, looking back at his eyes as she declared, “But I need to know, I need to know when I’ll marry the prince! On how many children we’ll have and, and if he’ll love me…”

He bit back a harsh retort as he shook his head and threw up his hands in annoyance, “Are you daft, girl? Didn’t you hear what I just said?” he asked her with barely restrained frustration coloring his tone. Yes, he was speaking with a person that could very much have his head chopped off, but nobody could be this bullheaded, right?

She proved him wrong as she narrowed her eyes at him before she insisted once more, “I know what I said and I want what I said!” He paused as he stared back at her, taken aback at her declaration.

“You know what fine, you want to know the future? Get a coin and toss it. That’s how much you can predict the future in this blasted world!” He shouted before he caught himself as he noticed the look of terror in their eyes. He glanced around, watching the flames of the candles almost roaring to life at his angered state. Recognizing his state, he took deep calming breaths as the brightness of the room returned to its original state.

“I’d like to apologize, that was unbecoming of me. I’m already quite hungry and I have to deal with my landlord later,” he said as he cleared his throat and fixed his coat. He really should not get angry, he reminded himself. The girl before him was just a teen who had a crush, she did not know what she was getting herself into if she was to continue down this road.

“Also, I just don’t like prophecies. They’re horrible, convoluted and, most of the time, self fulfilling. Trust me, having no prophecy is the best prophecy. Besides, it’s not like you don’t already know the answer. I’d rather be the master of my fate than have it be given to an uncaring being,” He warned them, doing his best to instill caution in the girls.

“Some all powerful wizard you are…” Cersie muttered as she looked down at her lap, clearly disappointed at the turn of events. He had a feeling that she might just go to the witch anyway, so he had to take action.

“Cersei, do you mind if I call you Cersei?” He asked her as he circled back to his seat. The girl nodded to which he asked her, “Do you really have no faith in your father?” If he couldn’t get her to see reason, he struck at her heart, specifically that of her love for her family.

“Of course I do! He’s the greatest bannerman of the king!” The teen fired back.

“Just trust in your father and you’ll be in good hands. If you ask for something from him, he’ll be damn sure that you get it no matter what.” He assured her, hoping she didn’t do something so drastic now, “Besides, you already know the answer to the questions you’re asking. So long as the king see’s reason, you’ll do fine,” He added with a soft smile to his face. He was letting her down easy by pinning the blame on the king. The Defiance of Duskdale had yet to happen. Could he save him? Probably not.

Thankfully and finally Cersei relented as she whispered dejectedly, “If you say so…” He didn't miss the look of gratitude from the two hand maidens sent his way, but he nodded lest their mistress notice them.

“I really should be charging you for that pep talk, but it’s no big deal,” He sighed as he quickly changed the topic at hand. Smiling brightly, he then offered, “Do you have any minor scars or injuries you might want to get removed? I’m very effective in dealing with any skin problems.”

The call to their vanity was far too much to resist as the trio looked at each other before Cersei asked, intrigued at the proposition he made, “Oh? Do tell.”

He grinned widely as he finally got to work. With the gift of healing, he could heal one’s skin. After all, what are skin problems other than damage to the skin itself? Blemishes were removed and pimple scars smoothed out as his magic got to work. In the end, he had three very satisfied customers who marveled at their faces.

“My skin, it feels amazing! It’s so smooth!” Jeyne marveled, finally opening up now after keeping quiet all this time.

“I should tell my cousins about this. This is wonderful!” Melara said as she looked at Cersei who looked more radiant than ever. He quickly averted his eyes lest he gets far too distracted.

“That should catch the prince’s attention. If they don’t bat an eye at you, there’s definitely something wrong in his head,” He jested lightly, earning him a scandalized look from Cersei.

Looking at her through the edge of his vision, he smirked as he asked her, “What? Am I wrong to compliment a pretty girl like you?” The girl merely huffed as she turned away from him. Was it dangerous to try and court a girl like her? Yes, but the crazy ones were often the most interesting. He just hoped he wasn’t going to get burnt in his pursuit.

Looking outside and seeing the sun at its peak, he then offered, “I know it’s not part of my services, but I’m willing to escort you if you give me your cloaks.”

The girls looked at him with confusion written on their face as Cersei spoke up, “Our what? But we need them for our disguise!” That was certainly true, but their cloaks were far too showy even with how plain they may have appeared at first glance.

“Pretty shitty disguise from what I can tell. Tell me, what’s your cloak made off?” He then asked leadingly, giving them a chance to see their fault.

“Silk, of course,” Cersei replied matter of factly.

“And can any normal smallfolk from the city afford such an item?” he asked once more. And there lay the crux of their problem, the fact that these girls did not think of how much such cloaks would cost. It didn’t take long for Cersei’s expression to turn one of embarrassment.

“Ohhh,” she whispered.

“Ohh indeed,” he snorted in amusement. Taking off his cloak, he didn’t fail to notice the blushes that spread across their faces as he finally revealed his face to them. Offering the cloak to her, he then said, “Here, you can use mine. I got plenty of extras.”

He had several in a nearby closet, refurbished clothing he made sure was cleaned in some lye soap, as expensive as that was. At least he earned himself three bundles of silk in the end, which was a net positive on top of the payment they gave him for their treatment.

“It’s best we get out of here before my landlord comes around. Thanks to your generous payment, I have more than enough for my lease for this month but he can be rather… unsavory,” He muttered, letting his displeasure for his landlord be known.

Just as the girls were about to pull their new, ratty and oversized, cloaks over themselves, his landlord decided to barge in with not only a bottle in hand but also some rough looking friends laughing and joking with him, “Myrridin! Buddy, I know it’s still a day before our contract says that you should pay but my friends and I really need the money. If you give it now, I’ll defer your next payment a day… later…” He badgered him only to trail off as not even the haze of alcohol could not hide the fact that the daughter of their lord was here, unguarded with two other noble women.

He felt the hair in the back of his neck rise up as the men leered at the girls who started backing away. Even Cersei looked unsure as she squared her shoulders while glancing at the door blocked by his landlord. Licking his lips, the man then said, “About that payment… how about you walk out of the back and I’ll forget about the entire thing as well as the whole year.”

He glanced at the girls as they looked at him, pleading to him silently. He really got himself in a pickle here didn’t he? Gripping his staff, he shook his head as the men before him pulled out their knives, “Fucking damn it. This is totally going to break my lease, isn’t it?” He asked before he struck the ground, creating a short lived self contained blaze to spring up before them.

“Run! He shouted as he grabbed hold of the girls and pulled them to the back door. Just as he was getting comfortable in his new home, trouble had found him and now he had to deal with the consequences.