Chapter 194: I Chose You (I)

Chapter 194: I Chose You (I)

POV: The Guardian of Love

In a garden of a villa on the Silk Road.

About an hour after a meeting between two Great Factions ended...

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Zick approached toward the fountain, a work of art made of marble and granite, depicting a creative form of a tree tangled between the wings of a phoenix and the long body of a two-headed draconic serpent. Running water gushed from the mouths at the top of the dragon, lapping at the feathery wings tangled in the world tree's branches. A shower of crystalline tears seeped and trickled into the fountain's basin, generating a harmonious noise and visual effect.

He would find the boy visibly troubled and plagued by gloomy thoughts there. Duncan was trying to regain his composure. The student, now more than ever, needed guidance.

"May I sit next to you?" Gently asked the man tried by tremendous aches and pains, the price to be paid for the forbidding efforts required of his constitution two days ago.

"You must, Master... Why are you still standing? You need absolute rest." Duncan replied in an anguished tone.

"I can afford another conversation before being imprisoned in that cage of pillows and annoying cares... I never liked being treated like a dying glass-boned invalid... Opl!" Zick slowly lay on the bench, letting himself fall into the last foot. His legs and knees were as feeble as a pudding supported by toothpicks.

"Pff, but you're a dying glass-boned invalid." A faint grin bloomed between the lips of the disrespectful disciple.

"... But I am still the strongest and most powerful dying disabled person in the world." Rebutted the Watcher. Both Duncan and Zick indulged in the lightheartedness of laughter.

A cool breeze, rustling bushes, leaves, and flowers caressed the duo.

"Do you remember the night of the auction...? I've been thinking a lot about our philosophical exchange." The Watcher.

"You mean the root of conflicts in the world?" The boy asked, reciprocated by a nod of assent.

"I admit that your views on happiness have caused me a few hours of insomnia. I have been elucubating on the subject at length, and today, I can finally tell you that I disagree with you." Duncan arched an eyebrow slightly with an interested look.

"Oh no? For what reason? If it is not the Pursuit of Happiness, what is the reason that spurs man toward conflict?" Duncan.

"My physical condition has been inspiring-think about it. If a deity or entity of immeasurable power offered you, here and now, a potion, spell or magic pill that would make you immeasurably happy at all times for the rest of your days, and I'm talking about 'immeasurable happiness' that no material good, event or pleasure in the world could ever give you, 'but,' that the necessary condition for such a paradise would be absolute and perpetual confinement in a bed, would you, Duncan Tallhart, accept?" Zick completely disarmed the student, generating a more than visible inner conflict in him.

"No. I would not accept." Duncan replied in a surrendering tone after a full minute of reflection.

"And the reason behind your refusal?" Asked the Master with an unconcealed spark of victory in his eyes.

"Because I would not consider that happiness to be genuine... Or rather, I would much rather conquer a minimal portion of that happiness by my own hand, by facing and prevailing over the world's challenges, than to receive it in such an undeserving manner... I would feel no satisfaction." Duncan had slight difficulty finding the right words.

"That's right, boy! That's right! You found the key point: 'Satisfaction'... Man does not really yearn for happiness but for 'Satisfaction.' Man, woman or child would always prefer a hard game in which the chances of victory are one in a hundred to another in which victory is certain in 100 per cent of cases... For, in our hearts, we all want to try our hand at something and win. The happiness we yearn for is that which comes from satisfaction." Explained the Guardian with emphasis and joviality.

"... A valid argument to which, to my chagrin, I cannot disagree." Duncan re-embraced the despondency. The Watcher guessed the reason behind such an answer, anticipating it.

"Yeah... Humanity will never stop fighting. Even in the most fertile and utopian time for peace, sooner or later, conflict will prevail... The winds of war loom." Affirmed the Guardian with a slightly resigned tone but no air of disappointment.

"I tried, master -- but I was unable. I refused peace... Another generation of peace and prosperity was at hand. With the right arrangements, perhaps, that peace could have lasted even a century... And I refused. I might have just decreed the end of us all." Duncan explained, looking at the mountainous landscape with a blank stare.

"The end is certain for everyone and everything, my boy... But, after the end, there always arises a beginning." Zick replied, resting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

During his last venture to safeguard the Known World, Podrick faced his corrupt former mentor in a duel. An almost hopeless battle... Podrick possessed no adequate weapons, skills, magic or experience to prevail, and yet, the Hero fought, giving his all, never yielding to his last breath... And in the darkest hour, when his downfall seemed imminent, Podrick awakened what we, three guardians of the world, call: 'the First Guardian's Blessing'. It is said that a thunderous Roar went down from the High Tower, shaking its foundations, audible from Oldtown to the Eye of the Gods. For a short time, Podrick gained uncontestable power to defeat the most feared monster, fulfil his heroic aims and escape unharmed from an alarmed city besieged by Andal armies..." Zick ended the chapter to begin a new one, but not before allowing the disciple to ask the first question.

"So is this what was happening to Ser Jaime...? Was he also receiving the 'Blessing of the First Guardian'?"

"Not exactly...Ser Jaime was unconsciously recalling part of Lann's Legacy." Zick.

"Part of the Legacy?" Asked the confused boy.

"For now, let's just say that the Lion Boy proved himself worthy of holding the sword of Lann and accessing the power needed to counter Peremore's Legacy...

Over the millennia, there have already been instances in which some members of House Lannister proved themselves worthy of wielding Brightroar, but never has anyone been able to manifest the same power as Podrick Lann in his day of glory. This is a complex and still undeciphered topic. But what I do know is that the First Guardian of Love did not forge Brightroar for the sole purpose of punishing the corrupt descendants of Peremore... There is a reason that the sword is considered the Supreme Masterpiece of Valyria's Greatest Forgemaster.

The Guardian of Love had long believed some unknown darkness was behind the world's greatest catastrophes.

Valgudryel suspected that such an entity was connected to the arch-enemy of the First Great Guardian. An entity as old as the dawn of time, feared by all the descendants of the gods, whose name has never been uttered or handed down by any mortal creed, voice or writing...

Therefore, the Founder of the Targaryen Dynasty gave up all his knowledge, resources, and skills, even sacrificing his immortality, to forge a weapon that could equal, if not surpass, the Lightbringer myth. An artefact that could summon the powers of the Great Lion Guardian...

The Guardian of Love designed that work centuries before his departure. He was waiting for a worthy possessor. Someone who would not abuse that boundless power and who would be recognized by destiny--and destiny chose Podrick Lann.

But Valgudryel could not let such a powerful artefact fall into the hands of any power-hungry descendant. Peremore's heirs were already teaching him about his past mistakes. Valgudryel was able to harness and contain the First Guardian's Blessing within Brightroar, binding it to the blood of the chosen dynasty with strict restrictions. No one, not even the Guardian of Magic and the Guardian of Beauty, knows the arcane constraints of that Artifact, with its already unparalleled basic magical capabilities." The Watcher lit a lamp of hope after a visible sign of disappointment on the boy's face.

"... 'None' except the Keepers of Love." That lamp was lit.

"On her deathbed, Rheyna Targaryen, only daughter of Valgudryel and wife of Lann, passed a final prophecy to the Lord of Harmony, her chosen successor as the next Guardian of Love. Four hundred years ago, the Lord of Armony, before his departure, passed on said words to The Kind Man who, in turn, twenty-six years ago, entrusted me ...

{...Skori se Rdui Sadhicr, isse se brzi hen jorrelagon, hre zarfices jhor dhar, se Rvgrie Klio jhor gart arl.} Zick quoted the prophecy in perfect High Valyrian, with a different timbre and tone of voice. Those words were bound by magic.

"Now, you, Duncan Tallhart, are the third individual still living who knows the last words of Rheyna of the Targaryen dynasty."

Duncan translated the sentence into thought, moving only his lips.

{"When the Worthy Successor, in the name of Love, three sacrifices will attempt, the Guardian Lion will roar again."} Zick nodded compliantly.

The boy could already juggle four languages masterfully. Zick was repeatedly tempted to teach Duncan the lost language of Dawn, but that would have meant placing the boy on a much more slippery slope, slanting between the jaws of Chai Duq and the upper echelons of the Confederacy.

"But why are you passing Rheyna's prophecy on to me? I have already told you. And now more than ever, I'm sure I don't want to pursue the role of Guardian of Love...!" Replied the boy, a moment after realizing the symbolic burden just entrusted to him.

Zick replied with serenity and a smile on his heart. "You may not be the next Guardian of Love, but I still entrust you with the task of choosing the next worthy successor. When you find a suitable candidate, and he or she is ready, you will, in turn, hand down these words... I have already told you: I have chosen you, Duncan Tallhart."

The chills of insecurity and indecision began to melt on the boy's face, giving way to the warmth of resolve. Duncan nodded.

"If Leyton considers Jaime such a threat to start a World War, it means Brightroar is still well and truly sharp and out there waiting to return home. The Artifact was not lost in the ruins of Valyria... Where is House Lannister's Ancestral Sword, Maester? And who is this 'Sleeping Leviathan'?" Asked his heir with a renewed spirit of adventure and fighting will.

"Far be it from me to pollute your resolve, my boy, but ... Well, you've asked two problematic questions."

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End part I