Hadrian Peverell: High Lord of Skagos

Chapter 35: The Enchanted Armor of Runestone

Hadrian soared high above the Vale, cutting through the wind as a midnight-black phoenix, the northern winds beneath his wings. His destination was Runestone, home to House Royce, an ancient family of the First Men known for their mastery of rune-carved armor, which was rumored to make the wearer invincible in battle. He had heard the tales over time—their ancestral armor, engraved with ancient symbols, piqued his curiosity. If there was truth to these stories, such knowledge would be invaluable in the future he envisioned for Skagos.

After a long flight, he spotted the small harbor town of Runeport, nestled against the rocky shoreline. The town seemed modest from above, with a smattering of docks where ships moored and small markets dealing in fish and trade goods. He angled his wings and began a slow descent, landing in an isolated grove near the outskirts of town. As his talons met the ground, Hadrian transformed back into his human form, his long dark cloak billowing behind him. A quick glance confirmed no witnesses had seen the transformation. He cast a subtle "Notice-Me-Not" charm around himself, blending into the backdrop of the bustling town as he made his way toward the docks.

Once at the harbor, Hadrian slipped through the busy wharf, unnoticed by the dockworkers hauling crates of goods from the ships. He silently approached a cluster of shipwrights huddled around a half-built vessel, their conversation about the harsh winters and the challenges of shipbuilding filling the air. Without a word, Hadrian stepped closer, his presence hidden by the charm, and reached into their minds. It was a delicate process, one he had refined over time—extracting knowledge without alerting the subject. He felt the wealth of their experience flow into him, their understanding of timber strength, hull design, and techniques for creating durable, seaworthy vessels.

Satisfied, Hadrian left the harbor behind, heading toward the sprawling castle of Runestone, which stood tall and foreboding atop a nearby hill. The fortress seemed to loom over the entire Vale, its dark stone walls etched with the runes that made the Royce family legendary. As he walked the winding path to the castle, the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, casting long shadows over the land. The charm ensured that no one on the road saw him, a mere shadow passing through the twilight.

When he reached the gates of Runestone, Hadrian slipped inside with ease. The guards paid no heed to him as he passed, too busy with their nightly duties. Once inside, Hadrian marveled at the runes inscribed into the very architecture of the castle. The markings pulsed faintly with an ancient energy, a testament to the old magic of the First Men. If the stories of their invulnerable armor held even a kernel of truth, he had to find a way to understand this magic.

The library of Runestone, tucked away in one of the castle's many towers, was his target. He made his way through the dimly lit corridors, silently observing the great hall and the tapestries that lined the walls. Each step carried him deeper into the heart of the castle, the weight of history pressing down on him.

Just as he approached the library doors, a soft voice cut through the silence, startling him.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my castle?"

Hadrian spun around, his hand instinctively going to his staff, which materialized with a quiet shimmer. A young man stood in the hallway, his silver hair unmistakable in the flickering torchlight. Hadrian recognized him immediately—Daemon Targaryen. The sight of the dragon prince here, in Runestone, was unexpected. His eyes gleamed with suspicion as he stepped forward, his hand reaching for the sword at his side.

Before Daemon could draw his blade, Hadrian flicked his staff, and a silent stunning spell shot from its tip. Daemon crumpled to the ground with a soft thud, unconscious before he had time to react.

Hadrian knelt beside the prince and placed a hand on his temple. Using Legilimency, he delved into Daemon's thoughts, sifting through memories, emotions, and secrets. He quickly found that Daemon had been living at Runestone as the husband of Lady Rhea Royce, though their marriage was far from loving. In fact, Daemon despised the Vale and its people, longing to return to King's Landing where he could claim the power he believed was rightfully his. Intriguingly, Hadrian also discovered that Daemon possessed a dragon of his own, one of the fabled beasts Hadrian had heard whispered of since arriving in Westeros.

The temptation to learn more about the dragons was strong, but Hadrian knew he couldn't risk discovery here. He couldn't let Daemon remember their encounter. With a wave of his hand, he erased the memory of their meeting from Daemon's mind. The prince would wake with no recollection of Hadrian's presence in the castle.

He rose and made his way into the library. Riff and Toff, his ever-loyal elves disguised in human form, had already begun their task. They moved swiftly, their hands gliding over ancient tomes and scrolls, using magic to replicate the contents of the Royce family's collection. The library housed many rare and valuable texts, some of which had not been opened in centuries. It wasn't just the knowledge of shipbuilding or trade that interested Hadrian here—it was the runes. These ancient symbols might hold the key to unlocking a deeper level of magic, something even he had yet to fully explore.

The elves worked quickly, knowing that time was not on their side. While they copied the entire library, Hadrian found himself drawn to a particular section on the history of the First Men and their traditions of runework. The ancient art had been passed down through generations of the Royce family, and the book in his hands detailed the process by which the armor was created. The runes etched into the metal were not just decorative—they were infused with protective magic, offering the wearer extraordinary resilience in battle. The process was intricate, requiring both skill and an understanding of the old powers that once ruled Westeros.

By the time Riff and Toff had finished their task, the first light of dawn had begun to creep through the narrow windows of the library tower. Hadrian glanced at the unconscious form of Daemon Targaryen, still lying in the hallway outside. He left the prince there, knowing he would wake with a headache but no memory of what had transpired.

As they left the castle, Hadrian felt the weight of the knowledge they had gained. The secrets of House Royce's runework and the shipwrights of Runeport now belonged to Skagos. More importantly, he now had a deeper understanding of the ancient magic of the First Men—a magic he could potentially incorporate into his own arsenal.

He gave Riff and Toff a silent command, and with a soft pop, they Disapparated back to Skagos, taking the copied texts with them. Hadrian remained behind for a moment longer, standing on a hill overlooking Runestone. The castle stood as a testament to a forgotten age, one that had long since faded into the pages of history. But history had a way of repeating itself. As he turned to leave, he couldn't help but wonder what role the ancient knowledge of the First Men would play in the future of Skagos.