After a bit of a hiatus I'm returning to my Discworld/A Song of Ice and Fire crossover idea.
The main premise is, due to the events of A Thief of Time and Night's Watch, Ankh-Morpork and the surrounding is transported to Westeros roughly replacing Saltpans, approximately when Robert and the court are heading north to Winterfell. One of the side effects of the transportation is that Ankh-Morpork provides another source of magic besides Dragons.
In this scene we see one of the first signs of this.
On a side note, this scene sill have several references to Susan. I'm not completely sure about this since one of the things Susan provides is an ability to interact with the supernatural. Since one of the things I like the best about Mr. Martin's writing is the ambiguity of whether the supernatural is real or not, I'm not sure if this is a good idea.
However, since I have a few ideas for running gags, I think I'm stuck with it.
Anyway, I look forward to what you all think, and am open to suggestions!
Pylos followed the maester down the Spiral stairs. He had never been to this part of the Citadel, none of the acolytes ever did before their vigil,
He remembered the rumors, all fresh in his head from the other night when he and his friends were celebrating the successful forging of his chain at the Quill and Tankard.
"What about the glass candle?" He had asked.
"Nothing is going to happen" his friend Arman, who had only forged a single link of his chain so far, had said.“It's best just to pray."
"But... Shouldn’t I at least try?" He had asked.
“Try what?” asked another acolyte, a young dark-skinned boy named Alleras. He had just arrived in the Citadel and had already forged his first link.
“What in seven hells for? Arman asked.
Well... In the name of knowledge, shouldn't we see if it can be lit?” he asked. Arman had given him a long look but had just shaken his head. Pylos hadn't been sure why he had wondered. Like most of the acolytes, he had never bothered forging a Valerian steel link and knew magic was simply superstition, but he had attended some of Archmaester Marwyn's talks and there had been something about the history of the glass candles he could not shake.
“Think about it. According to the stories, the Valerians used them to communicate across the empire. Wouldn't that make them technology, like Valerian steel? Isn’t it the duty of the Citadel to retrieve lost secrets?”
Arman took a sip of wine. “The glass candle is your last lesson before you finally take your vows. It tells you the beauty and danger of knowledge, not to seek out more of it! Honestly, Pylos, everyone knows you have a post waiting for you in Dragonstone. Why would you want to risk that by shaming yourself now?
Pylos had sighed. Dragonstone was prestigious but isolated and not what it was before the fall of the Targaryens. Besides, from everything Archmaester Ebrose had told him about the position, he would only be an assistant to the famous Maester Cresson, While he was sure he would learn much, he was not sure how much value he would be.
"In here." Pylos shook himself out of his reverie. The maester had unlocked a large door and motioned Pylos to enter. The room was dark, but for a second the glass candle had reflected the light of the Maester's lantern. It was nearly five feet tall, Pylos looked up and ran his hand across it. Immediately he pulled it back and sucked his finger. The glass was sharp and nothing but edges. Behind him, he could hear the master sigh. Pylos could imagine him rolling his eyes
"We will see you in the morning,” the Master said and closed the door. Pylos stood alone in the darkness. The only sound he heard was the door lock. He was sure it was his imagination, but he thought he could still see the candle in the center of the pitch-black room.
He supposed he should just start his meditation now. He knew no one expected him to light the candle... But still, he had to try.
"If I am going to make a fool of myself, I'd best get it done now,” he said, clapping his hands twice.
The room shone in a light slightly brighter than the darkness of the chamber. Pylos blinked as he stared at the candle that was glowing in what was not quite a light and not quite darkness, but something far older. He looked down at his hands and clapped again… The light went out. He repeated this several times, watching the glass candle go on and off every time he clapped. Finally, he left it on, illuminating the room in the strange dark light.
He turned towards the door to summon the maester but stopped. For a moment, just a moment, he had thought someone was behind him. There’s nobody there, came a thought that was not his own. They do not expect you to succeed. They will only open the door when the sun rises. Slowly, Pylos turned back to look at the candle.
Suddenly he was in the vastness of space. There was nothing to see but stars.
There were no constellations he recognized as he studied them, he saw a small spec coming slowly towards him.
After an eternity he saw that it was a large turtle slowly through the void. No, not large, huge, the creature was larger than the world itself. Lights, a sun, and a moon, spun around it.
As it came closer he saw that on top of its shell were four elephants and on top of their backs was a vast platform.
The turtle swam beneath him and he found himself looking down on a world of seas continents and mountains.
They came towards him at an unimaginable speed and he found himself hovering over a city that was bigger and older than Oldtown. A large river cut it in half and at its center was a tower that dwarfed the Hightower.
Storm clouds were gathering. He saw two people running across a roof in one of the buildings surrounding the tower. He wanted to warn them about the oncoming storm but they were fighting. They crashed into and fell through a glass dome.
Before Pylos could react, thunder boomed behind him. He turned to see lightning shooting up from a distant house.
Before he could ask how something impossible like that could happen, he was there. It was a large workroom filled with… devices all with circular faces with sticks… arms in the center. Several people stood around another device mounted in a tall box made entirely out of crystal. Something that looked like the skeleton of a rat wearing a black robe climbed to the top of it. It raised a tiny scythe and struck it.
At once the room was filled with light and force. To Pylos, it felt as if he had suddenly moved thousands of miles. But as the light faded, nothing had changed.
Behind him, he heard the creak of a door opening. A cloaked figure walked into the room
The cloak it wore was like nothing he had seen before. It was exquisite, somewhere between dark purple and the darkest night. Somehow he knew it was velvet, with lace trimming. Only a lord could wear such finery, he thought to himself. A lord or a…
The figure pulled down her hood revealing a young but striking woman. Her hair was white, with a single black streak bedded in a sensible bun. She turned to look at him frowning. “The Maid?” Pylos asked himself.
Certainly not the Mother, he thought to himself. Her stern expression made him think of the Crome though he knew he would never dare suggest that to her. Then a final name came to his mind uninvited... Stranger.
“The Stranger is a Maiden?” Pylos whispered. “Or is she someone else? But how can that be? There are seven gods!”
“No,” the Glass Candle told him. “Eight. The true number is eight. Eight gods, eight colors, eight. Eight is the number of magic, the number of power… after all, if you push it over, lying on its side, it becomes eternity. “
Pylos looked into the flame again. The woman looked back at him. In a panic, Pylos clapped his hands. The Glass Candle went out. Whoever the Lady in Black and White with sensible lace was, when she finally met Pylos, she would want answers.
