Maester Aemon, supported by Lynn, entered the room.
His blind eyes, though seeing nothing, accurately 'looked' in the direction of the fireplace.
He could feel the heat, just as he felt it in his heart at this moment.
There, an ice-blue Dragon Egg lay silently amidst the roaring flames.
"Lynn."
Maester Aemon's voice was hoarse with age, but more than that, it held an uncontrollable excitement.
"I can feel it."
"It's… calling to me."
Lynn's heart skipped a beat.
Aemon was a Targaryen, possessing the blood of the True Dragons, so it was not strange for him to have a special connection to the Dragon Egg.
But his late-night visit was certainly not just to 'feel' it.
"Maester, it's quite late, is there something you need?"
Lynn asked calmly, but a sense of vigilance had already arisen in his heart.
Maester Aemon did not answer.
He just tremblingly reached out his hand, fumbling in the direction of the Dragon Egg.
Lynn instinctively wanted to stop him.
But looking at the old man's wrinkled face, filled with piety and longing, he paused.
Maester Aemon's fingertips finally touched the scorching shell.
At that very moment, the old man trembled violently!
An invisible connection, as if spanning time, was established between him and this Dragon Egg.
Maester Aemon's lips quivered, and two lines of cloudy old tears rolled down from his blind eyes.
"The prophecy… the prophecy is true…"
He suddenly turned his head, 'looking' at Lynn with his empty eyes, his voice filled with a nearly mad determination.
"I can hatch it."
Lynn's pupils suddenly contracted.
Hatch it?
Of course, he wanted this Dragon Egg to hatch! He dreamed of it!
Lynn knew better than anyone what it meant to possess a Dragon.
That would be the ultimate weapon, capable of overturning all of Westeros and allowing him to truly sit at the pinnacle of power!
But… "Maester, how do you intend to do it?"
Lynn suppressed the ecstasy in his heart and asked calmly.
He knew that hatching a Dragon Egg was by no means easy.
The Targaryen Dragons had been extinct for hundreds of years.
Countless people had tried and failed.
The only successful case was the future Daenerys.
And she had exchanged four lives for the hatching of three hatchlings.
Maester Aemon, what did he intend to do?
"Blood magic."
Maester Aemon squeezed these two words through his teeth.
Lynn's heart suddenly sank.
As expected!
"The ancient scrolls record,"
Maester Aemon's voice became low and mysterious.
"Dragons are the embodiment of magic, born of fire and blood."
"Ordinary flames cannot awaken a sleeping Dragon soul."
"Only flames imbued with life force can make a miracle happen."
Maester Aemon extended his hands, which were like withered branches, his voice filled with an unnerving fervor.
"And the most powerful life force is none other than the wisdom of a scholar, the blood of a king, and the blood of a True Dragon."
Lynn, of course, understood.
Aemon Targaryen.
He was not only a Maester of the Citadel, possessing the wisdom of a scholar.
He was once one of the legitimate heirs to the Iron Throne, possessing the blood of a king!
And he was a member of House Targaryen, with the blood of a True Dragon.
"You mean to…"
"Exactly."
Maester Aemon nodded.
A smile, almost of relief, appeared on his face.
"To use my blood, my life, to hatch it."
"Lynn, you received guidance from the Old Gods and found this Dragon Egg."
"And I, Aemon Targaryen, will also use my life to complete this final ritual."
"This is my destiny."
"No!"
Lynn blurted out without thinking.
Are you kidding me!
To exchange Maester Aemon's life for a potentially uncontrollable Dragon?
This deal was a terrible loss!
And if others found out, what would they think of Lynn?
More importantly, his Targaryen identity itself was a huge trump card.
How much impact could a living Targaryen Prince with a legitimate claim have in future political struggles?
Lynn couldn't even imagine!
Was his full support for his supreme status not better than a small Dragon?
He wasn't crazy yet.
"I absolutely refuse!" Lynn's attitude was exceptionally firm.
"Maester Aemon, you are far more important than this egg."
Maester Aemon seemed to have anticipated Lynn's refusal.
There was no surprise on his wrinkled face; he merely shook his head, a hint of a bitter smile in his voice.
"Lynn, you don't understand."
"What meaning is there for a hundred-year-old man, a blind old waste, to cling to life in this cold corner?"
"I can feel it; my life has already reached its end."
"If I can use this last flicker of my light to hatch this young life, to ignite the flame that can illuminate the entire Long Night…"
"That would be the greatest honor of my life."
Honor again, damn it!
Lynn felt a surge of irritation.
Do people in this world have nothing else in their minds besides honor? Ned Stark was like this, and this old Maester was also like this!
"Maester, this isn't about honor!"
Lynn tried to calm him down.
"Being alive, you can do so much more than being dead!"
"The Night's Watch needs your wisdom!"
"Wisdom?" Maester Aemon chuckled self-deprecatingly.
"Can my wisdom stop the army of Others?"
"Can my wisdom burn those undead wights?"
"No, Lynn, none of these can."
"But a Dragon can."
Maester Aemon 'looked' at the Dragon Egg.
His eyes held an unshakable determination.
"This is our only hope."
Lynn still wanted to persuade him.
Just then.
Creak—
The door was pushed open, and Jeor Mormont walked in..
He had clearly heard the commotion, a hint of confusion on his face.
"Maester Aemon, Lynn, it's so late, what are you…"
When he saw the determined expression on Maester Aemon's face and Lynn's grim look, Mormont's words trailed off.
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