"Wouldn't this change create conflict between the Faith of the Seven and the Lord of Light? It seems like both sides are fighting over the divine domain of 'light,'" Bronn said, frowning with uncertainty. "Is it even called a 'divine domain'? I don't know much about gods."
"Is the Red God the only god of light?" retorted the one-armed knight, Lancel.
The High Sparrow's expression kept shifting. Deep down, he wanted to boldly declare: Fuck you, R'hllor! The Faith of the Seven doesn't give a damn about you!
But in his heart, he understood all too well—his faith was nothing like the Red God's.
In the Faith of the Seven, unless one isolated themselves in the Great Sept and fasted for three days or more, there was no chance of communing with the Seven.
Yet Thoros, a Red Priest, drank, feasted, got drunk, and even loved brawling in team tournaments—basically gang fights with blades. A man like that, by the Faith's standards, would never be able to commune with the Seven in a lifetime.
And yet this wine-swilling, meat-devouring, blade-happy monk had somehow gained R'hllor's favor—and had even resurrected the dead multiple times.
Oh, the Seven... the ability to bring back the dead. Only the gods knew how envious the High Sparrow was of such divine power.
Even after repeated attempts to commune with the Seven, he had never been granted a single divine skill.
The Seven were real—he had no doubt about that. Every time he fasted and prayed, he received enlightenment. He never questioned this.
But the Seven felt too far removed from the real world. They couldn't bestow power to their followers. And that, was a serious problem.
With a deep sigh, the High Sparrow said, "The Church of Light is admirable, but this matter is of great importance. I must pray to the Seven for guidance. Give me three days. No—this time, I will enter seclusion and pray for seven days and seven nights."
Seven days and nights?
Will we ever see you again?
Queen Mother Cersei still needs you, Queen Margaery still needs you, and the King on the Iron Throne—both now and in the future—need you. Please don't rush off to meet the Holy Baelor just yet!
Dany was terribly worried.
"Your Eminence, please take care of your health!" said the Divine Black Dragon with sincere emotion. "The burden of protecting the true faith and resisting the Lord of Light's attempt to stain Westeros red now falls entirely upon your shoulders.
You are the Holy Son of the Faith of the Seven, the prophesied child, the savior!"
"Uh… how did I become the prophesied one?" The High Sparrow blinked in confusion, looking at the dragon's earnest expression. "I wasn't born in a land of smoke and salt. I also—"
"Your Eminence, you're confusing it with the prophecy of the foreign god. You're the Holy Son of the Seven, the prophesied child of the Faith—not of the Red God," said the Divine Dragon solemnly.
"The Seven… have a prophecy?" the High Sparrow asked in disbelief, mouth agape.
"Of course! If the Red God can have a prophecy, why can't the Seven? The Light of the Seven granted me enlightenment—I have seen the future in the flow of time. The future of the prophesied child of the Seven."
The Divine Dragon loudly proclaimed, "After the Long Summer, the stars will weep blood. A cold darkness will shroud the world. The Lightbringer shall be born in the Riverlands. He will walk the Seven Kingdoms barefoot, wielding a sword of light forged from devout faith, fearless courage, and iron will. He will banish the darkness and end the Long Night."
"Your Eminence, look! You are the Lightbringer spoken of in the prophecy!" the dragon roared with excitement.
The High Sparrow said stiffly, "But I wasn't born in the Riverlands. My hometown is west of Maidenpool, in a village near the Trident."
Damn it. Faulty intel!
Dany cursed inwardly but quickly shifted her thoughts to salvage the situation.
"Your Eminence, that's a narrow interpretation," said the Divine Dragon, feigning mild reproach. "Even R'hllor only mentioned 'the land of smoke and salt'—he didn't specify where exactly. Likewise, the Seven didn't mean the Riverlands as a political region. 'Riverlands' just means by a river. Look, weren't you born right by the Trident?"
At this point, even someone who hadn't read secret scrolls from a fish's belly or studied one-eyed statues in the Yellow River could begin to see the Light Dragon's trick.
The High Sparrow was certain that if he said he was born by a river but actually in the Dornish desert, this "wise" dragon would still find a way to make it fit.
He hadn't caught on at first—not because he was stupid.
It was just that, in this world, there had been many, many prophecies. Some were hidden, some were twisted, some tried to be broken—but no one had forged a prophecy before.
And certainly not a messianic one.
It was madness.
A flash of brilliance crossed the High Sparrow's eyes as he asked, "Why not your mother, Daenerys? Is she trying to be Azor Ahai?"
So everyone gets to be a High Septon… and everyone gets to be the Chosen One?
Not a bad deal.
"No. R'hllor's priests confirmed it. The savior from the Asshai prophecy must be a follower of the Red God, a child of sacred flame. But Mother swore she would rather die than convert to the Lord of Light," said the Light Dragon firmly.
"Ah, Sister Daenerys truly carries the spirit of Saint Baelor. No—she is Saint Baelor reborn!"
The High Sparrow's gaunt face flushed red with excitement, and he became somewhat incoherent.
The one-armed knight Lancel and several armored Warriors of the Faith all nodded in reverence and awe.
Bronn turned his head, hiding the twisted expression on his face.
"Mother said that maintaining the Faith of the Seven in Slaver's Bay already exhausted her. She lacks the qualifications, power, energy, and time to offer more help to the faithful in Westeros.
She feels deeply ashamed about it and regrets it greatly.
Ah, Your Eminence, even Mother knows that being the prophesied one is a heavy burden.
But besides you, no one else can shoulder it! Please, for the Seven, the Church, and all the people of the Seven Kingdoms—bear it."
The High Sparrow nodded in satisfaction. This was a wise and honest dragon. Simple words, but filled with profound truth.
"Tell the Dragon Queen not to be disheartened. Upholding the Faith of the Seven under the shadow of the Red God is already an immense challenge." He comforted her gently.
"Then… does that mean you agree? You agree to take up the duty of the Lightbringer?" asked the Holy Dragon.
"For the Seven, for the Faith, for the people of the Seven Kingdoms, I am willing to give my all until my last breath," the High Sparrow said with a sigh.
"However, the Lightbringer's sword requires more than just faith, courage, and will." He paused, then asked with meaning, "I wonder… what does the Dragon Queen think about arming the Church?"
"Good!" the Holy Dragon proclaimed loudly.
"Good?" The High Sparrow was stunned.
Your ancestor went to great lengths to abolish the Church's military forces, and you're saying "good"?
"Very good. The Church cannot do without its own armed force," the Holy Dragon said firmly. "Faith and will are important, but the long night is dark, and the world is dangerous. Without swords of steel, how can we protect the true faith?"
"Mother says that having the High Septon build up a militant force only in King's Landing is still too conservative. You should allow the power of the Starry Knights and the Warrior's Sons to flourish throughout the Seven Kingdoms. All idle men should join the Poor Fellows, and all noble-born sons—except the eldest—should join the Warrior's Sons."
The Radiant Dragon raised its wings high and said fervently, "You should build the Kingdom of the Seven's Light here in King's Landing—throughout the Seven Kingdoms!"
Thump thump thump—The High Sparrow was forced to retreat three steps by the fervent passion radiating from the Holy Dragon.
This dragon… is actually a fanatical believer in the Seven!
The High Sparrow was visibly shaken.
"Then… what does the Dragon Queen think of the Church judging members of the royal family?" he swallowed and asked again.
"I support it—strongly!" the Holy Dragon replied without hesitation. "Anyone guilty in the Seven Kingdoms, regardless of status, should be judged."
"The Church lacks money. Other than donations from banks and nobles, we have no formal income. I was thinking of allocating part of the trade tax and land tax for the Church's operations," the High Sparrow probed.
"No problem. I support that, and my mother will definitely support it too," the Holy Dragon responded immediately.
By the Seven… they're even giving up control of finances. This is a true believer!
"After Ser Kevan became Regent, he gave the Church a seat on the Small Council and invited me to join the royal meetings. Brother Black, what do you think?"
The High Sparrow was deeply moved. His tone grew warmer, even speaking to the black dragon as an equal.
"No!" the dragon objected loudly.
"No?" the High Sparrow was stunned.
"You must not go to the Red Keep. The Lannisters can't be trusted—you may be in danger. Besides, why does the Church only get one seat? There should be at least four: one for a Septon, one for a Septa, one for the Starry Knights, and one for the Warrior's Sons."
"Sigh," the High Sparrow stomped his foot and lamented, "Why did the Dragon Queen swear that sacred oath of 'The one who ends the Long Night shall be King'? She should ascend the Iron Throne immediately and work with me to build a divine kingdom in Westeros."
"It's fine. Even if she's far away in Slaver's Bay, Mother will issue a public statement to support the Church's efforts in King's Landing.
You go ahead boldly—do all you need to do.
In fact, I'm willing to receive your baptism and officially join the Church of the Seven," the Holy Dragon said.
"What? Baptism?" The High Sparrow was dumbfounded.
"Yes. I've been devoted to the Seven since childhood, but Mother didn't have me baptized because I was still young. Why don't you baptize me and let me become a dragon-septon?"
"A… dragon-septon?! By the Seven…"
The High Sparrow, Lancel, Boros, and all the Warrior's Sons were wide-eyed, jaws nearly falling off.
"What, is that not allowed? I've believed in the Seven since birth—I can even recite the Seven-Pointed Star!"
"But… but…" the High Sparrow faltered. Something about a dragon becoming a septon just didn't feel right—but the Holy Dragon's words did make sense.
He had wisdom, he could speak, and he'd believed in the Seven since childhood—even memorized the holy scripture.
"If I baptize you, your Church registration will be with the Great Sept of Baelor. Are you planning to stay permanently with the King's Landing Church?" The High Sparrow was both hopeful and anxious, visibly conflicted.
"No. After all, I am my mother's eldest son and must remain in Slaver's Bay to assist her. Since we're all part of the Church of the Seven anyway, why not give me dual membership?
Normally, I'll stay in Slaver's Bay. But if the Church in King's Landing needs a dragon to show up, I can come over as a temp worker."
"Dual membership? Show up as needed?"
The Holy Dragon's thinking was too modern—too much for the aging Sparrow to digest.
"What's so hard to understand? The Church of the Seven in Slaver's Bay has already prepared a position called 'Left Hand of Light'—especially for me.
Your Holiness, you can also create a title like 'Left Hand of Light' or 'Great Defender of the Light.' When the time comes to judge a queen, a dowager queen, a king, a regent, or a duke, just let me read out their sins.
With my voice, half of King's Landing will hear the proclamation.
Thunderous, majestic, and sacred—absolutely unassailable.
Also, having a dragon as the face of the Church will make believers even more awed and devout."
The High Sparrow couldn't find a reason to refuse. The so-called Left Hand of Light was offering to work for free—what more could he ask?
And, to be fair, the dragon had a point. With him as the Great Defender of the Light, the Church's prestige would skyrocket—tenfold, at least.
(End of chapter)
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