(A/N; CPM = crystal-protein matrices)
POV: Jon Stark
I sat at my work table, studying the fire and water catalysts side by side.
Both were beautiful in their own way, the fire catalyst with its sharp aggressive geometry and the water catalyst with its smooth flowing patterns that felt cool even to my biokinetic sense.
I'd mapped their structures down to the molecular level understood how the CPM transformed raw magical energy into specific phenomena like fire or water.
Then my attention flickered to the third catalyst sitting wrapped in cloth to the side. The shadow catalyst.
Before I could pick it up, I felt a sharp pulse through one of my warging bonds.
It was one of the parrots in the city.
I closed my eyes and let my consciousness slide into the bird's mind.
The world shifted.
I was above the House of Black and White. Below, in the shadows of late afternoon, I watched five young men in maester's robes climbing stairs of temple. They moved awkwardly, few workers unloaded three chest from skiffs; small boats.
At the same time, I saw Jaqen H'ghar emerge from the temple.
"We are here—" before he could say anything.
A dart flew from Jaqen's hand. The acolyte clutched his throat with wide eyes then collapsed.
Another dart. A second acolyte fell.
The remaining three barely had time to register what was happening before Jaqen was among them. His dagger flashed—once, twice, three times. Throats opened. Blood sprayed across the stairs like cheap wine.
Five bodies on the ground in just five seconds from first dart to last death.
Jaqen knelt beside one of the corpses and calmly searched its pockets, pulling out a leather pouch heavy with coin. He walked to where Braavosi laborers stood frozen with their boats.
"Your payment, if they didn't pay you," Jaqen said, tossing them the Pouch.
The first laborer caught it, his hands shaking. He and his companion exchanged a glance, then bowed low.
"Valar dohaeris," they said in unison. Then they hurried away with their empty boats, not looking back.
Jaqen watched them go. Then he let out a soft whistle.
Several figures emerged from the House of Black and White. All wore the black and white robes of the temple. All moved with the same synchronized way.
They collected the bodies first, carrying them up the stone steps and into the temple. Then they returned for three chests.
After a few moments, one faceless returned. He wore the face of one of the dead acolytes—thin features, dark hair, a scar on the chin.
The faceless man stood, testing the new face with small movements. then he moved toward the Inn, where an Archmaester waited for news of my death.
I pulled my consciousness back to my own body.
Two million gold dragons, five dead acolytes, and one Archmaester about to learn a very expensive lesson about trying to hire faceless men when your target has already hired them first.
Ghost raised his head from where he'd been dozing.
"Nothing serious," I told him. " Just a few maesters trying to make the House of Black and white richer." He understood my intent and again fell asleep.
I turned back to my work table, to the three catalysts waiting there.
The shadow catalyst still made no sense. I'd studied it for hours, days, trying to understand the geometry of its CPM. But unlike fire and water, which followed logical patterns I could map and predict.
It's geometry wasn't just complex, It was like an optical illusion rendered in three dimensions—no, four dimensions, maybe more.
Angles that shouldn't exist, patterns that seemed to shift when I wasn't looking directly at them.
I couldn't experiment with something I didn't understand. Not when the consequences might involve opening doors to places that shouldn't be opened.
I needed more data.
I called for Talea. "Send a message to the inn where Archmaester Marwyn is staying. Tell him Jon Stark requests his presence at my workshop. Tell him I'm willing to trade valuable knowledge for his expertise on a specific subject."
"Yes, my lord."
...
Two hours later, I heard the sound of horses approaching.
I looked out the window to see Marwyn riding up to my gates, Alleras beside him. He or I say she, carried an enormous leather bag across her saddle, bulging with what looked like books or scrolls.
I met them at the door. "Archmaester. Thank you for coming."
"Your message was intriguing," Marwyn said, dismounting with a grunt. "You said you had knowledge to trade. I'm listening."
I led them inside to my solar, not inside my workplace.
"Before we begin," I said, gesturing to chairs, "I want to propose an expanded trade. Not just information for information, but more substantial things."
Marwyn raised an eyebrow. "Go on."
"I'll give you medical knowledge that could save thousands of lives. Practical techniques that any maester could learn and apply." I paused. "In exchange, I want everything you know about shadow magic and magical catalysts. And..." I gestured to the enormous bag Alleras was carrying. "I want access to your personal notes and research on magic."
"That's a substantial request," Marwyn said slowly.
"I'm offering substantial knowledge in return." I met his gaze. "I call it germ theory. The understanding that diseases are caused by tiny living organisms so small they're invisible to the naked eye. These organisms spread through contact, through water, and through the air. And they can be killed or prevented through simple measures."
I spent the next hour explaining. Handwashing. Boiling water. Sterilizing surgical instruments. The concept of infection and how it spreads. How childbirth fever could be prevented by simply cleaning hands between patients.
Alleras took furious notes, Even Marwyn, who'd heard some of this before, looked shaken by the full implications.
"If this is true," he said finally, "then we've been killing people for centuries. Thousands upon thousands of deaths that could have been prevented with the use of hot water."
"But still, this is not enough." Marwyn said. "We are talking about work of my entire life."
...