Chapter 368: Little Bear Girl

Upon hearing that there was an issue with the goods, Lyanna Mormont, who was in charge of escorting the shipment, quickly put down her ledger and ran from the warehouse door to Tyene's side.

Due to the magical conductivity of the White Spider's silk being comparable to Valyrian steel, years ago, Wright had intentionally left behind a batch of spider eggs. The White Spider could only live near the Wall and would naturally die if it ventured too far. As a result, the Night's Watch had acquired a legitimate trade: breeding White Spiders and selling their silk to obtain vast quantities of supplies.

Currently, there were two breeding bases at the Wall. The silk produced by Castle Black was handled by Winterfell for trade and transportation, while Shadow Tower in the far west of the Wall was managed by Bear Island.

This business deal was struck between Lord Jorah of Bear Island and Wright. Jorah had no brothers but five cousins, and his son served as a squire to Robb Stark. His sisters were busy at home having children, so this time, the task of escorting the goods was entrusted to 19-year-old Lyanna.

The rolls of spider silk were light and fluffy. This batch had filled 200 wooden crates, and once sold, they would need to purchase large quantities of food and weapons to be sent to Shadow Tower. If something went wrong and the supplies couldn't be delivered, the expenses would fall on Bear Island itself.

"Headmaster, is what Quaithe said true?" Lyanna asked nervously.

"This batch must be destroyed!" Tyene said through gritted teeth.

She was also upset. The buyers of this spider silk were mages hired by the lords of the Westerlands, who had planned to weave it into coarse threads and embed it in buildings to form defensive magic arrays. Now, all these projects had to be halted. The awakening of the Three-Eyed Raven's Inheritance meant that White Walkers or vampires might launch an attack, and magical defenses were being strengthened everywhere. If the Westerlands fell, the entire continent would be affected.

"I support the headmaster's decision!"

"Compared to the lack of a few defense arrays, this unknown dark magic is the real trouble."

"Yes, who knows if the defenses will even work, or if we'll be ambushed ourselves."

The Westerlands mages around them chimed in agreement.

Seeing that the dozen or so buyers had all backed out, Lyanna's face grew anxious. She drew the battle axe from her waist, hacked open one of the crates, and handed a few rolls of pure white spider silk to Quaithe. "Quaithe, can you think of a way to clear this—this dark magic?"

Quaithe made a gesture with his right hand before placing it over his chest. Immediately, a cloud of black smoke began to rise from the spider silk in Lyanna's hands. The silk did not burn, nor did it emit a burnt smell, but instead radiated pure black magic.

Seeing this, Lyanna threw the silk to the ground, tightly gripping her battle axe. Her muscles tensed, her face a mixture of confusion, urgency, and anger. It seemed she was ready to chop something—or someone—down.

Tyene stepped in front of Lyanna, looked up at her, and smiled as she said, "Is this your first setback, young one? Put away your anger and focus your energy on finding a solution."

Lyanna, wearing a thick black bear fur coat and towering over the relatively smaller mages, appeared imposing. Tyene, who was short and fragile-looking, seemed almost like a chick in comparison, her delicate white neck seemingly breakable.

Tyene's golden, fluffy hair and green lace gown, paired with her cute appearance, made her look as if she were smiling kindly at Lyanna, but the latter felt a chill run down her spine.

A cold shiver ran from Lyanna's feet to her head. Despite having the courage to charge with her axe against ten men, now, facing Tyene's gaze, she no longer dared to display any anger.

Lyanna finally understood why all the mages were so deferential to the fragile Tyene, calling her "Headmaster": "I understand. I'll have the goods moved to the port and burned immediately. All mages are welcome to supervise."

Shouting a few commands, Lyanna had the Bear Island men start moving the goods. She began issuing orders calmly, muttering under her breath, "I really don't know how Lord Wright can face Tyene with that look every day."

"Wright would hold Tyene's face and kiss her directly."

Quaithe's voice suddenly appeared behind her. As one of Bear Island's fierce warriors, Lyanna was startled by how silently he had approached. She quickly turned around and saw Tyene smiling at her from a distance, waving her delicate white hand.

"Every mage has a way to enhance their senses, young one," Quaithe said, before turning his attention to the warehouse door as though he had noticed something.

"The unknown is not to be feared; what is terrifying is when we refuse to face it! Exploring the unknown is the eternal pursuit of us mages. Since we've made a new discovery, we should organize people to investigate it," Tyene was saying as she spoke to the mages of the Westerlands.

"Some of you go to the port to supervise the destruction, while the rest write to the Night's Watch and tell them the spider silk has been contaminated by unknown magic and that production should be temporarily suspended. I will send people to the Wall to investigate the cause. As for the loss of these supplies, I will cover it for them—but only this batch."

"Headmaster, you are so kind!"

"Quaithe, let's go hunting!" A boy's shout came from outside the warehouse, followed by a heavy thud as something heavy hit the ground.

The people of Bear Island, pushing goods in and out of the warehouse, scattered in all directions as a massive, fierce black dragon head stretched through the warehouse door, constantly sniffing the air in search of a familiar scent.

"Shulvokun! Bear Islanders, step back!" Lyanna, feeling nervous and unsure of how to respond, instructed the people to move back.

She had seen dragons flying in the sky from afar before, but this was the first time she was up close. Facing a dragon head the size of a horse, with dagger-like teeth and hot sulfurous breath blowing in her face, Lyanna didn't dare to move.

"It smells like Dacey," a deep voice in the dragon's tongue spoke as the dragon head turned toward Quaithe.

Sauron jumped off the dragon's back and walked into the warehouse, approaching Lyanna. "It says you are Dacey's sister?"

Upon seeing Sauron, Lyanna finally relaxed and nodded. She knew her sister Dacey had left Bear Island a long time ago, living in Tyrosh, and was one of Princess Nymeria of Dorne's few publicly known lovers—someone who could enter Lord Wright's chambers but couldn't stay long.

"Quaithe, let's go hunting! Shulvokun says there's a shadowcat in a forest!" Sauron ran over to Quaithe and hugged her.

"I've just finished here," Quaithe said, returning Sauron's embrace.

As Sauron grew, Quaithe's black robe no longer hung loose on her, now fitting tightly with a belt that accentuated her feminine curves.

Sauron's height reached only to Quaithe's chest. Their bodies were pressed closely together, and Sauron's hands subtly moved over Quaithe's hips under the fabric—things Quaithe had taught him.

Their actions were clearly not the typical male-female relationship, and the nearby Westerosi mages and Bear Islanders were left speechless, staring.

"Sauron, this is not Tyrosh," said Tyene, stepping forward.

"Mother, I'll be careful," Sauron responded, letting go of Quaithe and bowing to Tyene, not having noticed her surrounded by mages.

"I'll take care of him. We'll camp out in the wild tonight," Quaithe said to Tyene, reaching up to stroke the black dragon's head.

A dragon's temperament aligns with that of its rider; the longer they are together, the more their personalities resemble one another. Many maester believed that dragons had genders—angry and combative dragons were male, while docile ones were female.

Perhaps Sauron's personality had affected the black dragon, or maybe it was because of the dragon's name, Shulvokun, which meant "Shadow of the Sun". Quaithe's magic was also tied to shadows, and the dragon was especially affectionate toward her.

"Go ahead," Tyene waved to them.

Sauron took Quaithe's hand, and using alteration magic, one of them gripped the thorny tail and leapt onto the dragon's back, while the other transformed into black smoke and reappeared on the dragon's back.

The thirty-meter-long black dragon slowly backed out of the warehouse and flapped its wings, quickly flying into the sky.

As the strong wind subsided, everyone in the warehouse turned their gaze toward Tyene.

Before they could ask, Tyene spoke to the mages around her: "Sauron is my son, but it was Quaithe who raised him. His personality is like my sister Nymeria, always eager to fight. Perhaps he'll even have a child with Quaithe."

"The world of mages is truly incomprehensible!" Lyanna Mormont felt her worldview shaken to the core.