A long moment later, Malora removed her hand and turned to look at William, a faint, almost imperceptible flash of disappointment in her eyes. "He is dying."
"So this is the Green Seer?" William stepped closer to examine the face. It was like a wood carving, eerily lifelike. He was puzzled by Malora's disappointment. "Didn't we come here to kill him?"
"The power of the curse has already departed. Killing him now will not lift the curse." Malora touched a ring on her left hand. "What we need to kill is that power itself, not this shell."
"The power has left?" William didn't quite understand. Could power grow legs and run away on its own?
"If a Green Seer's power is not inherited before his death, it splits into many fragments and drifts away after he dies. That bear, those ravens, and the soldiers who attacked us last night were all influenced by his residual consciousness and power. And the ghost of High Heart you mentioned probably also acquired a portion of his power."
'Consciousness plus energy... that's basically a form of plasma-based life, right?' William found this explanation easy to accept.
It also clarified something for him: no wonder the Green Seer's previous counterattacks had seemed so random and mechanical; they were just instinctual reactions from what remained.
But a new question immediately arose. "But he's not dead yet, so how did the power leak away?"
"Perhaps because he has been in this half-dead state for too long. If a Green Seer fails to perform the inheritance before death, he enters this half-dead state to prolong his life, continuing to wait for someone capable of inheriting his power."
Malora looked thoughtfully at the man fused with the root. "Actually, I've wondered about this before. After Harren the Black died, the Drowned God faith he brought was swept away. Why didn't the Green Seer lift the curse? It seems he simply was no longer able to."
Perhaps he cast the curse when Harrenhal began construction. Forty years later, when Harrenhal changed hands, he had already entered this half-dead state and could do nothing. Calculating from that, he had likely been like this for three hundred years.
Was he still trapped between life and death, unable to find release? William suddenly thought of many terrifying legends about being trapped between two states and couldn't help but shudder.
"Lady Malora, what should we do now? Continue searching for that curse power?"
"Finding it on our own is impossible now. Unless we find another Green Seer."
Hearing the first part, William's heart sank. Fortunately, Malora immediately delivered the second part. A name instantly popped into his mind: the Three-Eyed Raven.
Green Seers can know everything past and present; there's nothing they can't find. But then he hesitated about whether to tell Malora this.
That particular Green Seer lived in the Far North. Never mind the distance, based on the timeline, wights might already be active Beyond the Wall now. That's not exactly a prime tourist destination.
Moreover, the last Green Seer would likely be involved in the final battle against the Others. Taking this madwoman there... could it lead to unpredictable consequences? But if they didn't go, what about the curse on Harrenhal?
Just as William was wrestling with this dilemma, he suddenly heard Malora say calmly, "Do you want to acquire the Green Seer's power?"
'Huh? Now that's an option!'
But William was curious. "Aren't successors to Green Seers supposed to be very special?"
This Green Seer, for instance, hadn't found a successor for centuries. In the original story, the Three-Eyed Raven went to great lengths to get Bran, arguably influencing the political situation in Westeros to that end. Clearly, a Green Seer's successor must be exceptionally rare.
"That's for inheritance, where one receives the predecessor's power completely. In your case, it would be more like plunder. You might gain one or several abilities."
'Any one of them would be great.'
William grew excited. "What do I need to do?"
Malora drew the dagger from her waist, its blade reflecting a cold, sharp light. "Just move away a bit."
"Uh, alright."
Under the watchful gaze of the eye, William walked a few steps back along the path. Once separated by a cluster of roots, he could no longer see Malora.
Then, he faintly heard a piercing, mournful wail. Startled, he looked around but saw nothing.
He didn't have to wait long. Malora walked over. The eye, clutching the glowing ring, followed obediently above her head.
Malora was still holding the dagger. On its tip was a piece of dark red substance, resembling flesh and blood, dripping red droplets as she walked.
She stopped before William and offered him the dagger. "Eat it!"
William couldn't help but frown, his stomach churning. "What is this?"
"Don't be afraid. It's just wood." Malora revealed a captivating smile. "Or have you given up?"
William found the smile somewhat cruel. Looking at the "wood" that still seemed to drip blood, he sensed a certain power within it. The magic inside his own body stirred happily.
Taking a deep breath, he slowly took the dagger from Malora's hand.
'It's wood, just wood!' He squeezed his eyes shut.
The taste of blood, bitterness, and an indescribable strangeness instantly flooded his brain. Using the last shred of his rationality, he covered his mouth to keep from vomiting. Not daring to chew, he swallowed it whole.
What followed was a wave of dizzying nausea. He staggered back several steps, leaning against a root as he retched dryly, his body bent like a shrimp.
Malora watched all of this quietly, only her eyes occasionally shifting slightly.
It took William a long while to recover. Just as he straightened up, he coughed violently a few times. Sensing the state of his magic, he felt a bit disappointed. "Uh, it doesn't seem like anything's changed."
"That's normal," Malora said, walking over to him and taking back the dagger. "Find a Green Seer to guide you, and you'll feel the change then."
Ten thousand profanities raced through William's mind.
Many words reached the tip of his tongue, only to be swallowed back down. In the end, he only asked one question, "Then where do we find a Green Seer?"
"Didn't you dream about it last night?" Malora seemed somewhat surprised.
"What dream?" William suddenly thought of Malora's other identity. "The green dream?"
"There is a Green Seer in the North. He is also dying and is desperate for someone to help bring his chosen successor to him. If we help him with this, I doubt he would mind helping us with a few small favors in return."
William felt a sense of foreboding. Clinging to a last shred of hope, he asked, "Where is this Green Seer?"
"The Far North. He wants two people: Brandon Stark and Jojen Reed." The corners of Malora's lips lifted slightly, carrying a hint of mockery. "It seems you really have no talent in this area. I'm starting to worry if you'll be able to master the Green Seer's power after all."
William was stunned, his mouth agape, speechless for a long moment. It was hard to tell which part had shocked him more.