Soon, they reached seagard, their final stop on land. From here, they would board ships and attack the iron isles. Of course, the king wanted Pyke for himself, taking a not insignificant force with him but that was for a few days later. For now, they were resting. They had been marching for over half a moon and it took its toll on everyone. It had been days since they had seen a settlement, even just a small village and… well, let's just say the brothels of Seagard had quite a few patrons. Not Max though, no, he enjoyed a woman's touch as much as anyone but he was more interested in exploring the city as a bird. Sometimes a raven, sometimes a dove and also a seagull once. To everyone else, it looked like he was sleeping. It wasn't too uncommon after weeks of travel to have a strange sleep schedule when you finally had time to rest, especially since he had no horse to ride on.
As these animals, he found plenty of hidden passageways used to evacuate the town's citizens and a few which led deep underground.
In these tunnels, he found something very interesting. A small chest, barely big enough to hold a man's head and shut close with many layers of rusting iron chains. The wood was rotten and had clearly not been opened since before the conquest. On the way back out, he memorised the path and the following day made his way down there as himself.
The way down was long and the air was stale, though still breathable. The ground was layered in dust and his every movement left a trail in it. He didn't care though. No one had been in this part of Seagard for centuries, no reason why this should change now. His fingers held onto his torch like a lifeline, his only source of light in these pitch black corridors. As he went deeper, he could feel the magical energy thickening. It wasn't like the weirwood trees, those felt like connection, like the roots of the spiritual digging into the earthly realm but this… this felt like power, like the deepest depths of the ocean where no light reached and no sound could be heard. It wasn't connecting him to something more but trying to dominate him. He knew, on a spiritual level that had he been weaker willed or had he not absorbed the magic of the weirwood sap, this force, whatever it was would've crushed him alive. Not physically but mentally. As he reached the chamber, he could not walk as freely anymore. He reached for the chest, each inch that he advanced took increasingly more effort. When he disintegrated the chains, the pressure lifted. Overhaul informed him that there were arrays of runes carved on them, each rune only a few millimetres thick. Whoever had placed this here didn't want a human hand to touch it.
The magic wasn't completely gone however, from within the chest, he could still feel that faint pulse of magic.
The chains hadn't created this magic, simply amplified it. With shaking hands, Max opened the chest and inside were three… eggs? Not like chicken eggs or even dragon eggs, no, these looked more like shark eggs, about the size of a chickens egg each.
He took one of them and popped it into his mouth. Swallowing the sap had made him a greenseer and skin changer… what could this do?
He swallowed it. It tasted of salt, like the sea. Overhaul broke down the egg and distributed the magic in his system.
It felt as if his nerves were on fire, adjusting to the new magic. It took several minutes, agonising minutes for the magic to settle. It wasn't as painful as reconstructing his arm but it still hurt like a son of a bitch. His torch had gone out when it had fallen to the ground but he could see without a problem. Only gray shades but it was more than a little convenient. What he felt too though was a connection to these eggs, as if the two remaining eggs were slowly leaching off the magic which he was subconsciously releasing. Whatever was slumbering in these eggs, it was slowly awakening. It would take weeks to hatch but when it did, he knew something incredible would happen.
He stuffed the eggs into his backpack and marched up the long tunnels. With each meter he ascended, the air became fresher and his muscles didn't burn, it was as if he was walking downhill instead of uphill.
When he reached the entrance, he swung it open and walked out onto the streets. When he was walking past a puddle of water, he glanced at his reflection and did a double take. His eyes… they were slitted like a cat's. Still the striking gold colour but now reptile like. How would he explain this?
He was changing by consuming the magic. Not just spiritually, as he had thought before but now also physically… was it a mistake? Was he stepping away from humanity?
He was worried but then he remembered the power coursing through his veins and the enemy ahead, the great other, the white walkers, led by the night king. What mattered his humanity if he would just be killed by and join the army of the dead. Screw humanity, this was survival!