"My lord." Quemor stepped forward as Lynd descended from the dragon's back, dropping to one knee without hesitation. He kissed the top of Lynd's foot in a gesture that was practiced, reverent—and entirely natural for him.
Lynd didn't stop him. He knew it would be pointless. Anyone who had passed the Church of Redemption's highest loyalty trial was marked in spirit as if branded with a seal. Not only would they be unshakably loyal to Lynd, they would worship him with unwavering devotion—devotion so complete that if Lynd ordered them to die, they would do so without question.
It was precisely because of this that Lynd had entrusted Quemor with the replica of the sacrificial tablet and allowed him to bring it to Asshai. Otherwise, he would never have let such an important artifact leave the Black Cave.
"You've worked hard these past few years," Lynd said simply. "The mages you brought to the Silent Court and the Black Cave were excellent."
Just that brief praise was enough to overwhelm Quemor with excitement. It thrilled him more than acquiring any rare arcane treasure.
Lynd motioned for him to rise, then prepared to ask about Euron. If Euron truly intended to enter Stygai, the City of Corpses, he would have needed a guide—and Lynd would need one too if he meant to go there himself.
Originally, when Lynd reached the seas near the Shadow Lands, he'd planned to ride Deltos directly to Stygai. But the terrain was far too complex—deep ravines and shadowy gorges stretched in every direction. From above, there was no way to tell which gorge hid the city.
Even though the River of Ash could theoretically guide him, it was no help here. The Shadow Lands were riddled with rivers, each one glowing with an eerie green light, and indistinguishable from the next. Many of them even flowed underground, vanishing into the mountains, becoming subterranean rivers that were nearly impossible to trace.
On top of that, there was something else—some strange force in the Shadow Lands that made even Lynd feel deeply uneasy. It resembled the energy emitted by black oil stone, yet was fundamentally different. Deltos could absorb the power of black stone without issue, but he couldn't absorb this power.
Even stranger, this energy wasn't coming from the ground—it was gathering in the air, forming a bizarre field that merged with the perpetual storm clouds over the region. Ironically, the closer one got to the ground, the weaker that force became. So, with no better choice, Lynd had come to Asshai to find a guide who could lead him to Stygai.
But just as he was about to ask Quemor about Euron and potential guides, something strange caught his eye—Deltos was moving.
The dragon had not stayed where Lynd had ordered. Instead, it took a few steps forward, lowering its massive head toward a black-robed man standing nearby—one with the unmistakable proportions of giant's blood. Deltos sniffed at the man curiously, as though catching the scent of something delicious.
And in a way, he had. When Lynd questioned him, Deltos explained that the magic leaking from this man's body smelled rich—like a sweet, enticing appetizer. He asked if he could eat it.
Jaben, meanwhile, stood frozen beneath the dragon's snout. He didn't move, didn't speak. Even in his prime, he doubted he could've withstood this dragon, let alone now. The sheer magical force radiating from the beast was so immense, so incomprehensible, that all he could do was close his eyes and wait for the strike.
But the strike never came.
When he dared to open his eyes again, the dragon's head was still hovering nearby. But now there was someone else standing beside it—Lynd Tarran.
"Who are you?" Lynd asked directly.
"Jaben. Jaben of Asshai," came the calm reply.
"Jaben?" Lynd raised a brow. "You're that Jaben? The King of Asshai? The Master of the Dark Arts?"
He studied the tall, imposing man in front of him with open curiosity. Back in Summerhall, Lynd had already heard the name Jaben. The first to mention him hadn't been the mages of Qohor who now served under Lynd—it had been Maester Marwyn.
While in Asshai, Marwyn had once served as Jaben's assistant. He knew Jaben's power well. So when Lynd set out to divide the Black Cave into separate magical orders—like the Citadel's archmaester system—Marwyn had recommended Jaben as a potential leader.
Later, Lynd had learned even more about him from the Silent Court's Matriarch, the President of the Mage's Association, and the High Priest of the God of Magic. He had considered recruiting Jaben—but ultimately dismissed the idea. A man who had ruled Asshai for so many years was unlikely to submit to anyone else's command.
Eventually, he had put the thought of Jaben aside altogether. He never expected to meet him in a place like this—especially not like this.
But something didn't add up.
Lynd narrowed his eyes slightly. Marwyn had never described Jaben's appearance in detail, but from the way he spoke, it was clear he'd meant a man of normal stature.
This... was not that man.
The figure before him was cloaked in black, towering, and bore the unmistakable features of someone with giant's blood.
"I didn't expect Lord Lynd to have heard of me all the way from Westeros," Jaben said, a flicker of pride surfacing in his voice despite himself.
"Maester Marwyn works for me now," Lynd replied.
Jaben paused in surprise. "Marwyn... the Smallfolk-born from Oldtown? His understanding of magic surpasses that of most spellcasters I've ever met. If he hadn't lacked the gift, he might well have become a remarkable mage."
Lynd got straight to the point. "Your appearance doesn't quite match the one Marwyn described."
"That's due to the backlash of Dark Sorcery," Quemor explained on Jaben's behalf. "Combined with the mutations caused by the magic of black stone invading his body. It's the final fate of every spellcaster who lives in Asshai for too long."
"Corroded by Asshai's power?" Lynd hesitated, then turned to Jaben. "Can you remove your robes and let me see how the backlash and erosion have affected your body?"
The moment Lynd asked, both Jaben and Quemor froze. Even Quemor looked at him in disbelief. To him, Lynd's request seemed a bit much.
A flash of resentment crossed Jaben's mind. For a second, he thought Lynd was mocking him.
But Lynd met his gaze calmly. "I might be able to undo the backlash from your dark magic—and the corruption from Asshai's power. I may be able to keep you alive."
Jaben's mind went blank. His irritation vanished in an instant. He stared at Lynd, lost for words.
The curse of Asshai had existed for countless years. Many had tried to lift it—and every one had failed. Jaben himself had tried. He hadn't just failed—he'd paid dearly for it. The backlash from his failed attempt had twisted him into the creature he was now.
And yet Lynd stood there claiming he could undo the dark sorcery and Asshai's curse? How could he believe that? Part of him suspected Lynd just wanted to see what he looked like underneath.
But when he looked into Lynd's eyes—calm, direct, free of mockery—he felt something stir. Perhaps Lynd really could help him. After all, Lynd wasn't just any mage. He was the God of Magic—the only man in the world recognized as having truly mastered its essence.
Jaben drew a deep breath and slowly undid his black cloak and robes, revealing his strange, twisted body.
To Lynd, who had seen plenty of failed experiments in the Black Cave, Jaben's form wasn't all that shocking. At least it still resembled a human. His eyes scanned Jaben's body, then settled on the sunken pit in his forehead, where a swirling mass of dark magic was visibly gathered.
This was the first time Lynd had seen magic manifest in such a way—visible to the naked eye. Though it looked like a form of shadow magic, its core was unmistakably black stone energy. No wonder Deltos had likened it to a sweet and tempting treat.
"What's going on with your head?" Lynd pointed at the depression on Jaben's brow, blunt and unapologetic.
"Product of a failed attempt," Jaben said with a bitter smile.
"If I remove it," Lynd asked, "would it lessen the backlash and the corruption in your body?"
"It would help," Jaben said, eyes rolling upward as if to glimpse the pit himself—or perhaps rolling them at Lynd. "But if you remove it, I'll probably die. So in a sense, yes—curse lifted, backlash ended."
"What if I can remove it without harming you?" Lynd said, unfazed by Jaben's sarcasm.
Jaben's expression grew serious. He stared at Lynd and asked, "You're serious? You can get rid of this thing... without killing me?"
"That's something we'd have to test to know for sure," Lynd replied. He didn't give the answer Jaben probably wanted—but then added, confidently, "But aside from me, there's likely no one else in this world who could come even close to removing it safely."
If Lynd had promised he could do it without harm, Jaben might've doubted him. But it was precisely Lynd's measured tone—his refusal to offer empty reassurance—that made Jaben believe him.
And for the first time in a long while, Jaben felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a way out.
"What do I have to give?" Jaben asked in a low voice.
Lynd thought for a moment, then said, "I have a department under my command called the Black Cave. It's a place where mages of all disciplines gather to conduct research into magic and alchemy. Right now, the current head of the Black Cave has lost interest in the position—she wants to focus on her own projects. So I need someone with enough strength and prestige to take over, to maintain order and prevent things from falling apart." He added, "Marwyn recommended you back then. I looked into you. But at the time, I figured the King of Asshai wouldn't be interested in taking orders. Now, things are different. What do you think?"
Jaben was silent for a moment before shaking his head with a bitter smile. "You may be disappointed. All the magic I know only works here in Asshai. Once I leave, I'm no better than those street performers pretending to be mages."
Lynd frowned. "You mean you need the power of the black stone here to use your Dark Sorcery? Without it, you can't cast magic at all?"
"No," Jaben shook his head again. "I can still cast, but it becomes unstable—sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. And even when it does, the power is drastically reduced. That's the curse of being a caster in Asshai. Not just me—everyone here."
Lynd turned to Quillor, who gave a confirming nod.
"How long has it been since you had contact with the outside world?" Lynd asked.
Both men looked puzzled, unsure why he would ask that.
Lynd explained, "Since the Red Comet appeared, with the return of dragons, the world's magical energy has awakened. It's become easier to cast spells, and the spells themselves are more powerful. In other words, if you have the ability, you can still cast magic outside Asshai. It might be weaker, but not by much. And I suspect that over time, even that gap will shrink. Eventually, casters may be able to use magic outside just as they do here."
Jaben and Quillor were stunned. With their strength, yes, they could cast magic outside Asshai with preparation, but the effects were nowhere near what they could achieve here. Now Lynd was telling them that even average mages could cast magic with ease outside? It felt like they'd spent their lives believing they held the world's rarest treasure, only to learn it was now common in every market stall.
But soon they realized what this shift meant—for the world, and for Asshai.
Asshai and Summerhall were now the two places with the most spellcasters in the world. And while Asshai's heritage was ancient, it was stagnant. In terms of growth and potential, it was no match for Summerhall. Quillor saw it clearly. So did Jaben.
"I accept," Jaben said without much hesitation. "If you can rid me of this affliction, I'll join your Black Cave and serve you." Perhaps worried that such a verbal promise wasn't enough to convince Lynd, he added, "We can seal it with a blood oath."
"That's fine," Lynd said. He trusted his loyalty trials more, but there was no rush. Once Jaben arrived at Summerhall, he would eventually have to complete the trial at the Redemption Sept anyway.
And so, under Quillor's witness, Lynd and Jaben sealed a blood oath—a bond with powerful binding force for mages.
At the moment the oath was sealed, Lynd felt a distinct foreign force try to invade his body, aiming for his heart—only to be swallowed whole by the Rune of the Nameless King.
As it devoured the blood oath's power, Lynd could clearly sense the force now rooted in Jaben's heart. And he knew, without a doubt, that he could invoke the Rune's power at any moment and kill Jaben instantly.
Jaben, unaware that his life was now in Lynd's hands, assumed—based on tradition—that the oath bound them both equally.
He asked anxiously, "When will you help me...?"
"No need to wait. I'll do it now." Lynd turned to Deltos and said, "Come, Deltos. It's your turn."