The remaining days of the journey to Salt Shore passed far more easily than anyone had expected.
No beasts emerged from the rocky dunes. Even the harsh Dornish winds seemed calmer during their travel southward. Every night when the camp was prepared, Thaddues quietly walked around the perimeter alone, his wand hidden beneath his sleeve as he cast protective charms around the resting grounds.
The sellswords never understood what he was doing. But they noticed no wild animals ever approached their camp. The winds never extinguished their fires. Even the nights felt strangely peaceful whenever the young Lord walked beneath the moonlight whispering words none of them could understand.
By the ninth day, the salty scent of the sea finally reached them.
Soon after, Salt Shore appeared on the horizon.
The fortress of House Gargalen stood proudly upon the cliffs overlooking the endless blue waters of the Summer Sea. Its pale stone walls glimmered beneath the morning sun while banners carrying the sigil of the House Gargalen fluttered against the sea winds.
As their carriages approached the castle road, Thaddues noticed figures already waiting near the gates.
For a brief moment, surprise crossed his face.
He then remembered the customs of Westeros. A noble host greeting a visiting lord personally was considered proper courtesy—especially when the guest was someone as unusual as him.
The carriages eventually stopped before the gates.
Esteban quickly descended first before opening the carriage door for him.
"Lord Thaddues Peverell of House Peverell" he said respectfully.
Thaddues stepped out calmly.
Waiting before him was the Lord of Salt Castle himself.
Lord Gregory Gargalen was an older man with weathered skin darkened by years beneath the Dornish sun. Though age had begun touching his features, his posture remained firm, his gaze sharp and intelligent.
Behind him stood guards, servants, and a maester observing the foreign noble with unconcealed curiosity.
"Lord Peverell,"Lord Gregory greeted with a polite nod.
"Lord Gargalen," Thaddues replied.
There was no hostility between them.
Only caution and curiosity.
Lord Gregory personally guided him into the castle while servants prepared the traditional guest offerings of bread and salt.
Thaddues accepted the gesture without hesitation. He broke the bread himself and ate a piece calmly.
The tension within the hall eased almost at once.
In Dorne, customs carried weight, and the offering of guest right meant more than simple hospitality. It was a promise of protection and peace. Only then did the true conversations begin.
"Tell me true, Lord Thaddues,"Lord Gregory said as servants filled the cups with dark red wine. "Has Dorne disappointed you yet?"
Thaddues glanced toward the open balcony where he can see the sea.
"Not yet," he answered honestly.
Lord Gregory laughed softly.
"Then you are either a patient man… or far more courteous than most who come south of the Red Mountains."
A faint smile touched Thaddues' lips.
"The heat was difficult at first," he admitted. "Though I believe I am beginning to understand how the Dornish endure it so well."
"Wine," Gregory replied immediately, lifting his cup.
Several people around the table chuckled.
"And loose clothing," one of Gregory's advisor added with amusement.
"That too,"Lord Gregory admitted with a faint laugh. "A man dressed in black beneath the Dornish sun is a rare sort of madness."
Thaddues looked down briefly at the black robe he wore before giving a small nod.
"I learned that lesson quickly."
Another ripple of laughter spread across the table.
Lord Gregory leaned back in his chair comfortably.
"So," the older lord continued, swirling the dark red wine within his cup, "what do you make of Dornish wine? Most who taste it either fall in love with it at once… or curse it come morning."
Thaddues lifted his cup slightly, studying the deep crimson liquid.
"It is stronger than I expected."
"That means you drank enough of it," Lord Gregory said wisely.
Again the table laughed.
Thaddues shook his head lightly before taking another sip.
"It is good," he admitted. "Different from the wines I tasted in my home land. Richer."
"Ah." Lord Gregory raised a finger toward him with an approving smile. "Now that is a compliment worth remembering."
"The Arbor would disagree," another advisor muttered.
"The Arbor can drown itself,"Lord Gregory replied at once, without a hint of hesitation.
Laughter rose louder at that, easy and unforced.
The atmosphere held steady after, warm in a way that felt almost effortless. Comfortable, as if the hall had always been meant for such words and wine.
Far different from the tense political gathering Thaddues had experience in sunspear.
Soon servants began bringing more dishes onto the table.
Roasted peppers stuffed with spiced lamb, flatbreads still warm from the ovens, and fish cooked with lemon and fire herbs filled the hall with a rich, mouthwatering scent.
Lord Gregory noticed Thaddues observing the food.
"You hesitate," he said, simply, as if the truth were already clear.
"I am deciding whether Dornish cooks are trying to feed me… or assassinate me with spices."
A few startled laughs escaped the table.
Lord Gregory nearly choked on his wine laughing.
"Good!" the older lord barked with a rough laugh. "At least you've a sense of humor. You'd be surprised how many nobles lose theirs somewhere between birth and adulthood."
One of the advisors grinned.
"If he survives the peppers, he may yet prove he belongs in Dorne."
Thaddues calmly picked up one of the stuffed peppers.
"Then I suppose I should test my fate."
By the time the meal continued, the conversations no longer felt formal.
They spoke of markets within the Shadow City.
Of Dornish horses bred near the deep deserts.
Of sailors arriving from the Summer Isles carrying strange fruits and silk.
Lord Gregory even spent nearly ten minutes passionately complaining about sand finding its way into everything.
"The gods themselves could raise a palace in Dorne," Lord Gregory declared, "and by nightfall there'd still be sand in the bedsheets—and likely in the wine as well, if you're unlucky."
This time even Thaddues laughed quietly.
He had prepared himself for resistance before arriving at Salt Shore. After all, he was a foreign noble from distant lands suddenly requesting territory within already occupied domains.
Yet Lord Gregory Gargalen of House Gargalen showed no visible displeasure toward him.
If anything, the old man appeared genuinely welcoming.
Once the meal ended, Lord Gregory led him toward another chamber deeper within the castle.
Inside stood a large sand table map, carefully carved to depict the lands around Salt Shore—mountains, cliffs, roads, villages, fishing settlements, and trade routes.
Lord Gregory gestured toward it.
"These are the lands nearest my domain," he explained. "Some are fertile. Others…" He gave a dry, knowing smile. "…are less generous."
For nearly an hour, they discussed possible locations before Thaddues had chosen his place to build his territory.
Lord Gregory followed Thaddues' gaze toward the distant cliffs in the sand table.
"That stretch of coast?" he asked again, as if to be certain he had not misheard.
Thaddues nodded once. "Yes."
A brief silence settled between them while Lord Gregory considered it.
Then he exhaled through his nose, almost amused.
"It is not the sort of place most men would choose," he said. "No easy wells, soil that fights you, and a sea that shows no kindness."
"I noticed," Thaddues replied calmly.
One of the House advisor leaned forward, curiosity breaking through his restraint.
"Forgive me, my lord," the man said carefully, "but that land has been passed over for three generations. Even the fishermen will not build too near it."
Lord Gregory raised a hand slightly. "And for good reason."
Thaddues didn't look away from the sand table. "That makes it suitable."
Lord Gregory blinked once.
"Suitable," he repeated, as if tasting the word.
Then he let out a low chuckle. "You hear that? He calls cursed land 'suitable.'"
A few of the gathered advisor exchanged uneasy glances, even Esteban, but Lord Gregory's tone remained more curious than concerned.
"And what," Lord Gregory continued, leaning back in his chair, "do you intend to build there, Lord Thaddues? A fortress? A tower? A tomb overlooking the sea?"
"A place of residence," Thaddues answered simply. "And perhaps… something more."
That earned him a longer look.
Lord Gregory studied him for a moment, then gestured loosely toward the cliffs in the sand table.
"If you choose that land," he said, "you'll have wind howling like a grieving woman at night, and waves striking the rocks hard enough to rattle any foundation not built with care."
"I will account for it," Thaddues said.
A pause.
Then Lord Gregory tilted his head slightly.
"You speak as if the land is already yours."
"It will be," Thaddues replied without hesitation.
That made the older lord laugh again, though softer this time.
"I see," Lord Gregory said. "No hesitation. No bargaining—only resolve."
The maester couldn't help himself.
"With respect, my lord, even if you approves, building there will cost—"
"Money isn't a problem," Thaddues cut in gently, not unkindly.
The maester fell silent immediately.
Lord Gregory watched the exchange, then let out a slow breath through his nose.
His gaze drifted back to the cliffs, more thoughtful now.
"Five miles from Salt Castle," he mused. "Close enough that my men can reach you swiftly if trouble comes… and far enough that you will not be underfoot."
He tapped a finger against the table.
"And pirates do pass that coast," he added, more serious now. "If you build there, you'll need eyes on the sea."
"I will place them," Thaddues said.
Lord Gregory studied him for another long moment, then gave a small, decisive nod.
"Very well," he said. "Then we proceed as we should—surveyors, claim rights, and the formal granting of the land."
A faint smirk touched his mouth.
"And I suppose I should begin warning my people that a wizard-noble intends to build himself a home on our most stubborn cliffs."
A faint pause.
Then, with unexpected ease, Thaddues replied
"They will adapt."
Lord Gregory laughed under his breath.
"Dorne always does," he said.
The discussion naturally shifted toward construction afterward.
Lord Gregory generously offered workers from Salt Shore to assist him. He even suggested Thaddues remain within the castle as an honored guest while the fortress was being built.
The sincerity behind the offer genuinely surprised Thaddues.
For a moment, he almost accepted but in the end, he declined politely.
"You have already shown me great kindness, Lord Gregory," Thaddues said. "I would not wish to burden your people further."
Lord Gregory shook his head lightly.
"It would not be a burden."
Still, Thaddues refused.
Not because he disliked the arrangement.
But because he had no intention of allowing ordinary men to build his home.
He intended to create it himself. It will save time and resources.
As thanks for the lord's generosity, Thaddues reached into the small pouch hanging by his side.
The people in the Hall barely paid attention at first.
Then their eyes widened as Thaddues took out a chest. Then another. Then another.
Large heavy open chests emerged impossibly from the tiny pouch as though space itself had folded within it.
Gasps echoed throughout the Hall. When the final open chest settled in the floor, silence fell.
Gold bars.
Dozens of them.
Enough wealth to make even established lords stare.
Lord Gregory himself looked stunned.
For the first time since meeting him, the Lord of House Gargalen truly looked at Thaddues differently.
Not merely as a mysterious foreign noble but as something far beyond ordinary understanding.
"Please accept this as my gratitude," Thaddues said simply.
Lord Gregory slowly exhaled.
"You continue to surprise me, Lord Peverell This is enough to finance Salt Shore for the next two years."
Thaddues only smiled faintly.
"Then I am glad my gratitude will be of use,"
Not long afterward, they departed for the chosen land.
Lord Gregory himself accompanied them out of courtesy and growing curiosity.
During the journey, he pointed out nearby fishing villages, trade roads, and smaller settlements beneath House Gargalen's protection.
The closer they approached the cliffs, the harsher the terrain became.
The beautiful coast soon transformed into barren stone and jagged rock formations overlooking the crashing sea below.
When they finally arrived, silence fell upon the group.
Towering cliffs stretched endlessly before them while rocky hills surrounded the coastline like ancient sleeping giants.
The sea winds howled across the barren landscape.
Most men would have seen nothing but wasteland.
Thaddues saw possibility.
He walked the terrain alone, taking in every detail as he went—the slopes, the stone, the height of the land, and the natural defenses. With each step, his thoughts kept working, shaping what wasn't there yet. Towers, walls, courtyards, a harbor, gardens, and a palace overlooking the sea. Eventually, he stopped and spoke without turning.
"I want everyone to move as far away as possible."
The sudden request confused Lord Gregory.
"Why?" the older lord asked.
Thaddues finally looked back at them.
"Because I may accidentally harm you while building my castle."
Silence.
Even the sea winds seemed quieter afterward.
The maester blinked repeatedly as though uncertain he heard correctly.
"You…" he hesitated. "You intend to build it yourself?"
The disbelief in his voice was obvious.
Lord Gregory himself looked stunned.
He had initially assumed Thaddues merely wished to oversee the construction personally.
Not literally create the fortress with his own hands. Is that even possible?
"Yes," Thaddues answered simply.
Then his gaze shifted toward Lily, who sit at the carriage next to Isolde.
The little girl stared at him with wide curious eyes.
"Would you like to see another kind of magic?" he asked softly.
Lily nodded almost immediately.
"Yes!"
A small smile appeared on his face.
"Then remain beside Esteban and watch carefully."
Esteban clearly wished to protest. The look on his face alone made it obvious. But after everything he had witnessed from Thaddues already, he knew arguing would accomplish nothing.
Reluctantly, he obeyed.
The carriages slowly retreated across the rocky terrain together with the guards, servants, and Lord Gregory's men.
They continued moving until Thaddues became nothing more than a distant figure standing before the cliffs.
Then his voice suddenly echoed beside them.
"Farther."
Several guards nearly jumped in fright.
The voice sounded as though he stood directly beside them despite the impossible distance.
Only Esteban remained calm, already accustomed to such strange occurrences.
They continued retreating.
Nearly a mile away.
Finally, the voice came again.
"You may stop there."
The group halted immediately.
From the distance, they could barely make out Thaddues standing alone before the cliffs while the endless sea stretched behind him.
Then his voice echoed once more.
"Lily."
The little girl straightened.
"Watch carefully," he said. "This is how magic shapes the world."
A wand appeared within his hand.
Gracefully, he pointed it toward the earth beneath him.
"Bombarda Maxima."
A small glowing orb formed at the tip of his wand, drifting downward like a falling droplet of light.
Then it touched the ground.
At the point of impact, the cliff detonated instantly.
Stone didn't merely crack—it was torn apart, the coastline collapsing inward as raw force ripped through rock and earth. The cliffside disintegrated into a surge of shattered stone and dust that roared outward in a widening wave.
The shockwave followed a heartbeat later.
It struck like a hammer.
Men within a mile were thrown off balance. Horses screamed and reared. Guards were hurled to the ground. Even Lord Gregory, still in his carriage, nearly lost his footing.
Esteban lurched forward on instinct, as if he meant to run straight into the destruction, afraid for what happened to Thaddues, but was seized at once by a guard. Dust swallowed the coastline, hiding everything beyond the blast.
Farther out, the land still reacted. Villages beyond the immediate reach felt the ground shudder beneath them as a long stretch of cliff simply ceased to exist, replaced by a rising wall of dust and broken stone.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then Lily pointed upward.
A figure hovered above the devastation.
"My lord," Lily breathed, awe in her voice, as she saw Thaddues suspended in the air within a glowing white sphere, calm above the broken expanse below.
The shoreline went still.
"In the name of the Seven…" the maester whispered.
No one corrected him. No one spoke.
Even Lord Gregory stepped out of his carriage, frozen as he stared up at the figure above the shattered coast.
In that silence, understanding settled in.
He remembered the letter he had read ten days earlier.
Why such power was treated with care.
Why rulers chose negotiation and alliance.
Why Princess Deria Martell, the Peace bringer of Dorne, regarded him as an equal.
Because what stood before them was not merely a nobleman. Not merely a wizard.
But someone that could reshape the world itself.
TBC
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