Chapter 103: The Red Priestess
Flap, flap—
A flock of ravens that had been resting on the castle's tower top suddenly took flight, soaring into the sky.
At the same time, Viserys and the maester left the courtyard together, heading for the council chamber.
...
Meanwhile, far away.
In a magnificent temple, red-robed priests could be seen everywhere, moving about the temple grounds. When they encountered each other, they pressed their palms together, bowed slightly, and then continued on their way without uttering a word.
A woman dressed in red knelt on a cushion, with a brazier placed before her. Flames danced within the brazier.
The red-robed woman sat silently, her gaze fixed on the fire in front of her.
It was at this moment—
Whoosh~
The flames in the brazier suddenly leapt, disrupting their previous rhythm. The red priestess's heart skipped a beat, and she was abruptly jolted out of her contemplation.
"What is happening?"
Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the flickering and twisting flames. Then, she seemed to see a series of images within the fire.
"This is…"
The surprise on the woman's face gradually gave way to calm. Her beautiful eyes didn't even blink as she became entranced by the images in the flames.
"So, the dragon is about to be reborn."
The red-robed, enchanting woman had just seen the figure of a silver-haired youth in the flames.
He appeared to be roasting a massive egg, conversing with a woman, and then a maester in a grey robe with a chain around his neck approached, and they exchanged a few words.
However, all the images she saw were silent, like still frames, and they eventually came to an abrupt end.
"No wonder His power is returning."
After the images ceased, the woman fell silent for a while before whispering softly.
Not only her, but other red-robed priests in the temple could also feel their connection to the Lord of Light growing stronger. Even the small-scale fire magic, which previously had a low success rate, could now be cast. Combined with their best illusions, the number of followers at the entrance of the Red Temple had recently increased considerably.
This was a miracle that hadn't been seen since the extinction of the dragons.
The followers of the Lord of Light differed from other types of magic believers, as they didn't accept the existence of magical tides. Instead, they put forth a counter argument.
They believed that dragons brought magic, not that magic brought dragons.
Because they found that when dragons existed, their connection to the Lord of Light deepened, and after the extinction of the dragons, all priests could no longer sense the presence of the Shadow and the God of Fire.
Therefore, the devout followers of the Lord of Light believed that there must be some connection between dragons and the divine.
Then, a gentle breeze blew, causing the flames in the brazier to vanish completely.
The woman's copper-red hair fluttered in the wind, revealing half of her exquisite cheek. She parted her red lips, murmuring to herself.
"It seems... the great Lord of Light has given me guidance."
The beautiful woman then rose from her kneeling position on the cushion, her loose red robe slightly tightening to conceal her fair chest.
It was as if her body contained a scorching heat that irresistibly drew the gaze of others.
"I need to go on a journey."
She then turned her eyes towards the distant horizon.
...
Far away, in the council chamber of Andaros Castle:
"Iron Islands are in rebellion, and Balon Greyjoy has declared himself king?"
Viserys sat in the council chamber, looking at the intelligence in his hands, then raised his head.
This was the significant event the maesters had mentioned: the Iron Islands rebellion had set off a storm across Westeros like a massive bomb.
No one had anticipated the quiet rebellion in the Iron Islands, which caught the Lannisters off guard and disrupted Viserys's plans.
Viserys faintly remembered that there had been a rebellion in the Iron Islands, during which Theon, who later lost his brother, became the foster son of Eddard Stark, the Duke of Winterfell.
However, he couldn't recall exactly when it happened, and he hadn't expected it to be now.
"It seems that the burning of the Sept of Baelor was not a random act; the Greyjoy family had been plotting for some time."
"So... what should we do?"
Viserys looked up at the few people in the council chamber: his Hand of the King, Sir Joffrey; Prince Oberyn of Dorne; Master-at-Arms Sir William Darry, who leaned on a cane; and a maester from Dragonstone.
"Your Grace, I believe we should take this opportunity to strike at King's Landing."
"Kill the usurper and reclaim the Iron Throne!"
Upon hearing Viserys's words, the Master-at-Arms became somewhat emotional, standing up and speaking eagerly.
His health had deteriorated significantly, and he didn't know how many more years he had left. If not for his peaceful rest at Andaros, he might have already passed away.
However, his greatest desires—to avenge his brother Jonothor Darry and help the Targaryens reclaim the Iron Throne—had yet to be realized.
Now they had settled in the Andals' homeland and began amassing power. The sudden turmoil in Westeros stirred up waves, and he believed it was an excellent opportunity to invade Westeros.
After all, there were still many nobles within the Seven Kingdoms loyal to the Targaryens. If His Grace led an army back to Westeros and called for support...
But as the old man's words fell, everyone present remained silent.
Although they had gathered some power, was it too early to attack Westeros?
"Cough—"
At that moment, the elderly knight cleared his throat and spoke.
First, he glanced at Sir William Darry, who was twenty years his junior. Yet now, with one blind eye and an impaired leg that required a cane, his white hair made him appear older than his age. Then, he continued speaking.
"If we ally with the Iron Islands and Dorne, can the three of us conquer Westeros?"
The old knight's suggestion caused everyone present to exchange glances.
The silver-haired youth in the center, dressed in simple attire and resting his chin on one hand, looked at the table with his pale purple eyes, seemingly lost in thought.
Viserys didn't speak, and everyone's gaze fell on Prince Oberyn of Dorne.
Oberyn gently stroked his soft beard and remained silent for a moment before speaking.
"Now is not the best time to attack Westeros. The alliance of the Starks, Baratheons, Tullys, and Arryns remains strong, and the Lann isters have joined them as well."
The Lannisters now had a queen in the Red Keep.
"However, just because the timing isn't perfect doesn't mean we can't participate in this war."
Oberyn's words seemed to stir the thoughts of those present. While they knew the risks of attacking Westeros at this time, they also couldn't ignore the opportunity the Iron Islands rebellion presented.
Viserys looked around the council chamber, carefully considering the words of his advisors. He knew that the Targaryens had been waiting for the right moment to strike, and this rebellion might be the catalyst needed to rally support for their cause.
"We should send envoys to the Iron Islands and Dorne, seeking to forge an alliance," Viserys finally said, determination in his voice. "If we can unite our forces, we stand a chance against the current rulers of Westeros."
The council members nodded in agreement, each aware of the challenges that lay ahead. Forming alliances with the Iron Islands and Dorne would not be easy, but it was a necessary step in their quest to reclaim the Iron Throne.
As the meeting adjourned, Viserys couldn't help but feel the weight of his family's legacy on his shoulders. Their return to power would be a long and arduous journey, filled with uncertainty and danger. But with the support of his advisors and the alliances he hoped to forge, Viserys believed that the Targaryens could rise once more and restore their rightful place on the Iron Throne.
Only time would tell if his efforts would be successful, but one thing was certain: the game of thrones was far from over, and new players were entering the fray.
...