In the same era, there could be multiple Green Seers, but only one Three-Eyed Crow per generation.
Becoming a Green Seer depended on talent—on average, one in every hundred thousand First Men might have the potential. But to become a Three-Eyed Crow, one had to inherit the legacy of all Green Seers throughout the ages: their experiences, wisdom, memories, emotions, and will.
Was the value of converting the Dragon Queen to Buddhism even greater than that of the crippled boy from House Stark?
The Three-Eyed Crow was tempted.
"Daenerys, I've said it from the beginning—I bear you no ill will. I only wish to help you become more perfect. The sliver of divine soul I left in your consciousness did not monitor your actions or thoughts. It merely instilled the noble virtues of a great monarch: compassion, responsibility, honor, and faith."
Daenerys sneered coldly. "A great monarch's noble virtues don't need to be instilled by you. I am the greatest queen in this world. My virtues are the standard by which future rulers will be judged."
"You're truly arrogant," the Three-Eyed Crow choked for a moment.
"Arrogant? Tell me—who ended slavery? Who spent tens of millions of gold dragons to save commoners? Who, when the Iron Throne was within reach, chose instead to see the bigger picture and unite all forces against the Long Night?
Who was the first to challenge the White Walkers, even risking her life to duel them in order to test their true strength?
In the foreseeable future, I will lead humanity against the White Walkers and bring an end to the Long Night.
I heard Green Seers can observe ten thousand years of history through the weirwood trees. You tell me—who is greater than I am?"
What Daenerys said was outrageously shameless, yet the Three-Eyed Crow remained silent for a long time, unable to refute her.
In this rotten world, Daenerys was simply too un-rotten.
"And you deliberately left out the most important point—you want to keep me in Westeros. You don't want me to leave. Because what you truly covet is my dragon—not Drogon or Rhaegal, but the unborn fifth one."
The prophecy of Quaithe: A red raven lands on the brow, a mother's sight is blocked, and her child is silently taken by the white wolf.
She inherited a child from the original host, but clearly, that has nothing to do with the prophecy. As the Mother of Dragons, her dragons were her children too.
So, someone was trying to steal her dragon—this much was certain.
The question was: which dragon would the wolf steal? And it would be done silently.
Daenerys once thought it was Rhaegal. But last night, when the Green Seer struck directly with great force, Rhaegal withstood it. Because Rhaegal was already two years old, with a mature sense of self, and in moments of danger, he could consciously seek her dragon spirit for help.
Last night, in the orchard, when she placed the glass candle into her backpack, she accidentally touched the red dragon egg.
In that instant, Daenerys understood: this little creature was about to be born, and the true target of the Green Seer was him.
And then there was Jon Snow's identity—as the true Prince That Was Promised.—A true dragon must have a dragon. The prophesied hero needed one even more.
Each of the six Stark children had received a direwolf from the Old Gods, and the fates of the wolves and their masters were tightly linked.
As Ghost's master, Jon was the White Wolf.
The fifth dragon came from House Targaryen, and in theory, Jon could easily bond with it—because Daenerys already had Drogon, and a rider could only mount one dragon.
Moreover, Jon was a warg, with a soul even more gifted than hers.
Of course, Daenerys was the Mother of Dragons. If she deliberately sabotaged the bond, even a reborn Rhaegar couldn't take the fifth one.
That was where the Green Seer came in.
A sliver of consciousness lodged deep within her soul, whispering like an "evil god," never ceasing. It could change her mind, making her stay in Westeros, and even make her accept her nephew (at least that was the Three-Eyed Crow's wishful thinking—if he actually tried it, Daenerys would likely detect something wrong due to the mental contradiction and snap out of it).
Having had his scheme exposed, the Three-Eyed Crow remained calm and gentle in tone, saying, "I won't deny it. I hope you will leave the fifth dragon for the true prophesied one. He needs it more than you do.
Daenerys, the gods have arranged everything. Fate is already written. Your mission is to bring dragons back to the world—it doesn't mean all dragons must belong to you. There are three—"
"Screw your 'three heads of the dragon'!" Daenerys roared, cutting him off with forceful clarity. "Listen carefully: a dragon has only one head, and that's its own head. Not mine, not the prophesied one's, and certainly not some Targaryen's.
The will of a true dragon cannot be twisted or overridden.
My dragons are my children. No one will ride them and strut around as dragon knights. After me, there shall be no more dragon riders."
"Skreee—!" Rhaegal roared proudly in the direction of the weirwood, a human-like firmness in his eyes: Apart from Mother, he would never accept another rider!
The Three-Eyed Crow seemed stunned by her declaration, his usual calm tone faltering as he said urgently, "Dragons cannot be without riders. A wild dragon without a rider is a disaster."
"Skreee—!" Rhaegal roared again in fury, his call echoing toward the weirwood. The leaves—shaped like blood-stained hands—rustled loudly.
"You see? My dragon is different. He's smart," Daenerys smiled.
"Daenerys, regardless of how deeply you misunderstand me, I still want to help you." With a sigh, the Three-Eyed Crow extended an invitation: "Do you wish to receive the full inheritance of the Green Seers? I can teach you. I will give you all my experience and power."
Daenerys's expression turned odd. If not for the last sentence, she might have actually been tempted. But accepting his inheritance meant becoming the next Three-Eyed Crow, her personal will diluted to near nonexistence. What would be the point of such power?
"Do you even remember your original name?" she asked.
"—"
The Three-Eyed Crow sank into memories.
A long, long silence.
"Brynden Rivers," he whispered softly.
Dany didn't react right away. She merely nodded and asked curiously, "Since you're a riverlander, how did you become a greenseer?"
A skin-changer must first have First Men blood and worship the Old Gods. Everyone knows that south of the Neck there are descendants of the First Men, but no longer any followers of the Old Gods.
"Rivers" is the surname of river-born bastards. A three-eyed crow from south of the Neck makes no sense.
"You don't know who I am?" Brynden asked in surprise.
"Why should I recognize a bastard?" Dany replied, even more puzzled.
With equal parts pride, sorrow, and anger, the Three-Eyed Crow ground out, "I am the Blood-Raven, a duke of the realm!"
"The Blood-Raven…" Dany frowned, thinking hard. Suddenly her expression changed. "You're King Aegon the Unworthy's bastard? Seven hells—you're a Targaryen, and you became a greenseer?!"
Remember Baelor the Blessed, who locked his sisters away in the Maidenvault? When Baelor and his cousin Aegon IV were born, it was as though the gods played a joke. Baelor renounced desire and became a saint, while every craving Baelor cast off poured into his cousin—making Aegon the first rake in Targaryen history.
Saint Baelor shunned women; Aegon had countless lovers and countless bastards.
Worse, on his deathbed Aegon the Unworthy legitimized every one of those bastards and placed them in the line of succession after his trueborn heir, Daeron II.
He gave bastards inheritance rights!
Next came the Blackfyre Rebellion, rivaled only by the Dance of the Dragons in ripping House Targaryen apart.
Robert Baratheon also sired bastards, but he was indiscriminate—the mothers were mostly commoners or whores. Lowborn mothers pose no threat to a king's trueborn heirs—though Robert had none, awkwardly enough.
Aegon was different: he was choosy, high-minded, bedding daughters of great houses—one mistress was even Baelor's betrothed, Daena, the princess locked in the Maidenvault.
Because their mothers were highborn, six of Aegon's bastards were called the "Great Bastards."
Terrifyingly, these Great Bastards had claims to the throne.
Inevitably, Daena's son, Daemon Blackfyre, raised the dragon banner in revolt, and the Blackfyre Rebellions began, lasting a century.
Brynden Rivers was one of those Great Bastards.
Damn, the man rose to a ducal title.
Yet Brynden never sided with the rebel bastards; he personally shot Daemon Blackfyre and Daemon's twin sons, ending the First Blackfyre Rebellion and earning the hatred reserved for a kinslayer.
Later he broke sacred vows and killed another nephew. Aegon V—Dany's great-grandfather—condemned him to death. Brynden chose the Wall, taking the black with Maester Aemon, and even became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch.
Fifty years ago, he disappeared on a ranging.
Everyone thought he was dead!
If Dany remembered rightly, this ancestor five generations removed was now about 125 years old.
Even old Aemon would call him "grandfather." (Aemon himself was already 102.)
"You've been watching Westeros the whole time? In the North you spy through weirwoods; in the South, where there are none, you use great ravens. Last time in Dorne your real target was Prince Doran Martell," Dany said, her expression complex.
"I was waiting for you. Westeros keeps no secrets from me. The ravens were prepared for you. Before you ever set foot on this land I knew you would come, when you would arrive, and where you'd land," the Three-Eyed Crow replied.
"If you're so powerful, why was House Targaryen destroyed?" Dany sneered.
"I know everything, but I do not meddle lightly in the quarrels of the Seven Kingdoms."
"You are a Targaryen!"
"My duty is to guard Westeros, not to serve the Targaryen dynasty. From the moment I donned the black, I had no family, no name—only the Wall to defend. You should know the Night's Watch vows," Brynden said calmly.
"And you dare quote those vows to me?" Dany shot back. "The most important line is eternal neutrality. Yet you took sides—because of some prophesied child you struck at me."
The Three-Eyed Crow fell silent again. At length he sighed. "Winter is coming. Only the child of prophecy can end the Long Night. You cannot know how dearly I wished you were that child, but you are not.
"The vow of neutrality exists to secure every lord's support in guarding the Wall. I do not cling to rules and oaths; my conscience is clear."
"Splendid—very noble!" Dany laughed. "By that logic—if neutrality is only for the lords' favor, and you've deliberately attacked me—does that mean House Targaryen is no longer bound to aid the Night's Watch?"
(End of Chapter)
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