Next, a smiling young man flashed before me, strangely reminiscent of myself, Jaime, Tyrion, and Tywin all at once. Sunlight glinted in his golden hair, and a sly smile seemed never to leave his face. His green eyes were striking—sharp with intelligence and cunning.
"Hell of a lot of fun, isn't it?" he grinned, then vanished, erased by another burst of leaves.
A new vision followed—and a new man. Short, disproportionately broad-shouldered and broad-chested, stern of face, with a large head, a bulging forehead, and a nose bent to one side. He stood at the center of a star painted on a stone floor, glittering with cold light. Two tall candles burned beside him—one green, one black. Their edges were so sharp they looked capable of cutting flesh.
The man stares intently straight ahead. He saw me, and yet he did not.
"Who are you?" The question came in Valyrian. His hoarse voice carried both alarm and anticipation.
In the next instant, he dissolved into the greenery.
Two dragons clashed in the sky… Several young faces appeared, and I realized they were Starks, staring at me with anger and reproach… The majestic Wall loomed closer through a veil of frost… Margaery was nursing two adorable infants…
"I will find you!" someone shouted sharply in the night, and I caught the icy glint of blue eyes.
These and other, less distinct visions flashed before me. And though they all meant something, I realize they are not the most important. What truly mattered lay hidden somewhere farther away, watching to see whether I would be able to reach it or not.
The green sea tossed me from side to side, playing with me like a toy. I was hurled up and down, left and right; one fleeting vision replaced another, and my consciousness warped strangely. I perceived other people's thoughts and emotions and forgot my own.
Of all that was there, I felt only one thing—in that place I did not move, yet somehow I knew I had to go forward. Just walk, straining every ounce of will. Just walk. Was that really so difficult?
Here, it was unbearably hard. The greenery toyed with me, threw me off stride, making me forget who I was and why I was here. Why was I alive?
Just walk… One step, then another… and another… Walk… And then the greenery retreated. I found myself standing in a clearing. Before me stood a weirwood and the Elder.
"You made it through," said an impassive voice.
Looking around, I realized we were alone. There were no green people, no Jaime, no guards in the clearing.
The Elder approached and took my hand. When he stood fully upright, he was nearly a head taller than me. And once more, I was drawn into the greenery.
A gap opened in one place. In the next instant, I stood at the edge of a forest. All around rose weirwoods, and near one of them, upon a stone altar, a tall, powerfully built man was bound hand and foot. He screamed wildly, thrashing in a desperate attempt to break free.
A group of small figures nearby paid him no attention. The Children of the Forest. Behind them, forming a second ring, stood several green people—tall and majestic. They were chanting, their hands raised, a strange light shimmering upon their palms.
"That is how it all began," a quiet voice said.
Only then did I realize that the Elder was standing half a step behind me. Endless fatigue and disappointment filled his eyes.
I couldn't help but chuckle. It seems that this was how the Three-Eyed Crow had shown Bran Stark his visions. Had I become part of something similar?
The ritual continued. We watched in silence as the man on the altar stopped screaming, then—utterly spent—closed his eyes and fell still. The final words were spoken, and magic surged, shaking the entire clearing in a single violent wave. Then everything fell silent...
The air clearly reeked of dread.
A moment later, the man on the altar opened his eyes—cold, frozen, an astonishing shade of blue. And he began to laugh. Eerily. Anticipatingly…
The Children of the Forest ran around, became agitated, and started shouting something in alarm.
"Then our ancestors managed to bind him for a time," the Elder said quietly. "But in the end, he broke free."
"Why didn't he try to conquer Westeros earlier?"
"He did—many times," came the answer. "But the conditions were never right. And there were always those who prevented him from reaching his full strength."
"So what now?"
"Difficult times are coming. The Night King may become stronger than ever before. Strong enough to overcome the Wall."
"So now it's my problem?"
"You are the king," he replied. "And if you wish to remain so, you must do something to protect your lands and your people."
"And what exactly am I supposed to do?"
"Now you will be able to see through the green. I know there is still a godwood in the Red Keep." He continued when he saw me nod. "With the help of the weirwood, you will see everything you need to see and understand what is happening. And your heart will tell you what must be done."
I nodded once more, silently.
It seems someone is beginning to follow in the footsteps of Brandon Stark.
(End of Chapter)
Good day! Your support is very important.
Please donate power stones, write reviews, and leave comments. It will be a huge help!