Hadrian Peverell: High Lord of Skagos

Chapter 16: The Rite of Power

Hadrian stood by the window of his temporary camp on Skagos, the rough winds howling against the wooden walls of the structure his elves had built for him. Snow had begun to fall heavily, covering the already frosty landscape in a thick white blanket. His mind was deep in thought, thinking about the pact he had made with Ellard Stark back in Winterfell. Now that he had committed to conquering the island and restoring order under the watchful eyes of the Starks, the next steps were crucial.

His elves, as always, were diligent in their work. Over the past few days, they had searched tirelessly through the libraries of the three Skagosi noble houses: Stane, Crowl, and Magnar. It wasn't easy—Skagos was a place of ancient traditions and savage customs. Knowledge was often hidden in plain sight, concealed within fragments of history, old tales, and forgotten scrolls. But his elves were clever and precise, finding what they sought even in the most obscure corners of the castles.

"Master Hadrian," Tilly, one of his trusted house-elves, appeared beside him with a gentle pop. Her large, green eyes twinkled with excitement. "We have found something important."

Hadrian turned his gaze from the snowy wilderness to the eager elf, nodding for her to continue.

"There is an ancient rite," Tilly said, her voice hushed as though speaking of it could summon the ghosts of Skagos' past. "A rite that decides who the leader of Skagos should be. It is not by blood, but by strength."

Hadrian's interest piqued. Skagos was indeed a savage land, but this particular detail had escaped him until now. "Explain," he urged.

Tilly nodded quickly. "The leader of Skagos is chosen through a fight. The strongest rules. The challenge must take place at the place of power of the one being challenged—usually their home or a significant location tied to them. The winner of the duel proves their strength and leadership. The Skagosi follow the strongest, Master Hadrian. Not the wisest, nor the most noble."

Hadrian's mind whirled with possibilities. This was exactly what he needed—an opportunity to challenge the ruling families of Skagos without causing a full-scale war. If he could defeat the heads of the houses in a ritual combat, then he could bring Skagos under his control by their own laws. It would be clean, efficient, and—most importantly—respected by the savage people of the island. Even the Starks could not object to such a method, for it was rooted in Skagosi tradition.

"Which houses are involved in this rite?" Hadrian asked, walking over to his desk where a map of Skagos lay unrolled. He traced the three key locations with his finger: the strongholds of House Stane, House Crowl, and House Magnar.

Tilly hopped up on the chair beside the desk and pointed to each location as she spoke. "House Crowl in the east, House Stane in the north, and House Magnar in the west. Each of these families has a place of power—usually their ancestral home or an ancient battlefield where their ancestors fought great battles."

Hadrian considered the implications. If he were to challenge the heads of these three houses, he would have to visit each of their strongholds and invoke the rite in their place of power. He couldn't simply attack them in their homes—that would only incite unnecessary violence. No, this had to be done according to tradition.

"And what happens after the challenge?" Hadrian asked, eyes still on the map.

"If you win, Master Hadrian," Tilly said, her voice filled with certainty, "the Skagosi will accept you as their leader. They respect power above all else. With you ruling, they will have no choice but to follow."

Hadrian leaned back in his chair, thinking about the enormity of what lay ahead. The elves had done well in uncovering this information. The old ways of Skagos were brutal, but they offered him a way to establish control without shedding unnecessary blood. And with his magic—his immense, ancient power—there was no doubt in his mind that he would win.

"Good work, Tilly," he said, his voice filled with a rare tone of warmth. "Gather the others. We have much to plan."

That evening, Hadrian met with all seven of his elves—Tilly, Nobby, Elphie, Mippy, Riff, Toff, and Kreacher—in the central chamber of the camp. The elves had gathered around a large table where various maps, scrolls, and tomes lay scattered.

"The three houses of Skagos are our targets," Hadrian began, his voice calm and measured as he addressed his loyal companions. "House Crowl, House Stane, and House Magnar. They each have a place of power, and according to the ancient rite, I must challenge their leaders in those places."

Kreacher, the oldest and most experienced of the elves, spoke up in his gravelly voice. "Master Hadrian must be careful. These Skagosi are not like the wizards or Muggles you have faced before. They are warriors, born and bred for battle."

Hadrian nodded, acknowledging Kreacher's wisdom. "That is why we must approach this strategically. I will challenge them according to their customs, but I will not rely solely on strength. My magic will give me an edge, one they won't expect."

Elphie, the quietest of the elves, timidly raised her hand. "Master, what will you do if they refuse the challenge?"

"They won't," Hadrian said confidently. "The rite is sacred to them. To refuse would be seen as cowardice. They would lose the respect of their own people."

The elves exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. If there was one thing they had learned from their research, it was that the Skagosi valued strength and courage above all else. A leader who refused a direct challenge would be shunned, even by their own kin.

Mippy, the ever-curious elf, leaned forward. "And when Master Hadrian wins, what then? Will the houses unite under you?"

"Yes," Hadrian replied. "Once I defeat the heads of the houses, the Skagosi will recognize my rule. With control over Skagos, we can begin building something here—something that will last for centuries."

The elves seemed satisfied with this plan, and Hadrian could see the glint of excitement in their eyes. They had been with him for centuries now, through many trials and tribulations, and the idea of building something new excited them as much as it did him.

As the meeting drew to a close, Hadrian felt a sense of calm settle over him. The path forward was clear now. He would challenge the leaders of Skagos, claim their land, and establish his rule. It was the most logical step in his long journey, and one that would allow him to shape the future of this remote island as he saw fit.

But as he dismissed his elves and prepared for the coming days, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Skagos was a savage land, isolated from the rest of the world, but it was still connected to the greater realm of Westeros. Eventually, the eyes of the mainland would turn north, and when they did, Hadrian would be ready.

For now, though, his focus was on the immediate task at hand. He had a ritual to perform, and three houses to conquer.