' Time has Come ' Part I

POV: Duncan;

Torrhen's Square.

Year 288, 15th day of the twelfth moon. Three months before the citadel informed all of Westeros of the start of spring...

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I had returned home.

I had made sure that no one but Qyburn and a few Frost Blades knew of my arrival. The next morning I would see my family again after almost two years.

I needed to resolve something long overdue first...

An appointment with voices twice as annoying as the last time I heard them.

[COME TRAVELLER... THE TIME IS NOW... COME TO US...]

This time I was well prepared.

I took off my clothes, the chill of the night could hurt me despite what I had been through in the past two and a half years.

It could be said that the Winter Guardians unit I led had been tempered in ice and fire all this time.

Bloody Snow had also been tempered in fire and ice... but at different temperatures.

Temperatures that no human mind could withstand.

I could see the reflection in my naked body in the pond.

I was lean, muscles barely above normal size but more defined than ever.

I could see muscles that should not stand out in a normal human body...

No one could develop them to that level or at least...that's what Zick said.

I approached the tree-dig, noticing the same obsidian dagger as last time.

I had checked...

No one in the castle but me could see it, much less touch it. I grabbed it and cut my right hand like the last time.

An attractive force sucked in my hand as if it were a magnet...the process began...and it was much more intense and painful than the last time.

My body vibrated and overheated as I absorbed the energy from the sacred tree with a sculpted smiling face.

That pain was nothing compared to the suffering I experienced during the first three weeks of training with Zick.

My impurities began to pour out of every pore of my skin.

I could feel it pooling inside my belly, that muddy liquid burning my insides like burning, putrid lava...

I didn't blink an eye at the discomfort I was feeling.

It was atrocious and disgusting... but also tolerable from my point of view.

The trial lasted an hour...

I barely had time to vomit, before my hand was drawn back to...

Another hour later...

' As I thought...the experience accumulated over time.

I went through a double level up. ' I thought to myself as I dipped into the pond to clean my body...

After a few mouths rinsed with mint flavored water, I dried myself with the warmth of a bonfire and towels.

I put on my dry clothes and then waited...

As expected, the same energy impulses from the first process exploded in the sky: one green, two brown, two blue, two rainbow-colored, two black, two red, and two white...

Strangely enough, there was no explosion like the first time...

The process seemed smoother and less disruptive.

I already had an idea of what those impulses might represent.

The spy cells throughout Westeros and Essos provided the information I was looking for...

Or at least some of that information.

I had asked Qyburn to pay special attention to any abnormal events in the world. Especially those involving supernatural occurrences...

Rumors from Vaes Dothrak, claim that the high priestess of Dosh Khaleen, Anha Vezhvena, has magical powers...powers that can heal and cure disease.

Khal Drogo, it seems, is blessed by the Great Stallion...

A barefoot Septon, nicknamed High Sparrow, roams the lands of Westeros performing miracles...

Wet Hair, Aeron Greyjoy, can create saltwater out of thin air...

These four pieces of information led me to a theory:

' A Cleric and a Paladin... one for each faith. ' I thought with concern.

The supernatural power of the forces that will oppose me was growing along with my own...

If this is true, it means that there are 14 individuals with supernatural powers in this world.

Green = Old Gods.

Red= Faith of the Lord of Light.

Rainbow= The Faith of the Seven.

Blue= Faith in the Drowned God.

Brown= Dothraki faith in the Great Stallion.

Black= The God of a Thousand Faces.

White= ...the Extraneous God.

Currently, I had only identified four certain ones and five probable ones...

Khal Drogo= Paladin of the Great Stallion.

Anha Vezhvena= Cleric of the Great Stallion.

High Sparrow= Cleric of the Seven.

Aeron Greyjoy= Cleric of the Drowned God.

Night King= Paladin or Cleric of the Extraneous God (hypothesis).

Melisandre= Cleric of the Red God (hypothesis)

High Priestess Kinvara= Cleric of the Red God (hypothesis)

Aegon Targaryen= Paladin of the Red God (hypothesis)

Jon Snow= Paladin of the Red God (hypothesis)

The reason I doubted Melisandre and Kinvara, was because both were ghosts hiding in the shadows...

No one had heard from the two priestesses for at least 3 years...

Between Aegon and Jon Snow, I suspected the latter more...but in any case, I had no proof.

I thought about getting rid of the High Sparrow or Aeron Greyjoy but I knew it would probably be worse...

Anha Vezhvena, the current Cleric of the Great Stallion, was not the first...

The previous High Priestess showed the same magic as the second...

She was burned at the stake a few days later. The woman died...but witnesses claimed that a brown light came out of the dying woman's body and poured into Anha Vezhvena...

If I had had the High Sparrow killed, I would only have killed an old man who has not yet done me any wrong, and I would have blessed someone else whom I did not know.

Better to face someone you know than a stranger.

I had formulated four other hypotheses for this anomaly:

1) As long as my power is in this world the other powers will not disappear.

2) We are in a stalemate ' Highlander: Only one will remain '. That is, only the chosen ones could destroy other chosen ones.

3) Power could diminish until it disappears if faith itself is suppressed.

4) A combination of the previous three...

Now, to my list of problems to be faced, I had added the item 'Holy Wars'...

After a few moments' reflections, I decided it was the moment of truth...

Statistics. ' I thought as I watched a green smoke condense in front of me...

[LEVEL: 3]

[Strength: 15]

[Dexterity: 16]

[Constitution: 16]

[Intelligence: 19]

[Perception: 17]

[Will: 25]

[Charisma: 14]

Before I could realize the information I had just read, the voices began to speak again...

[Come, Traveler...you must swear...swear...swear on your knees...]

'The sacred Oath that every 3rd level paladin must perform...' I thought, connecting the dots immediately.

Each paladin up to [2] level had no close ties to the deity they served... but at [3] level, to obtain the specific abilities of that chosen order of paladins, you had to take an oath.

I approached the God-Tree.

I did as requested and knelt with my left knee on the ground and my right knee bent in half. I also lowered my head to the ground.

[Do you, Traveller, rebaptized as Duncan Tallhart, son of Varra Tallhart and bearer of the blood of Joramun, swear that now and forever you will feed the light of life and guard its spark?]

"I so swear," I answered.

[By your blood, do you swear to protect that light from the forces that would destroy it? And that where there is the life you will resist those who would see it wither?]

"By my blood, I so swear."

[By what you love most, do you swear to keep the light in your heart?]

"By all that I love, I so swear."

[...And finally...On what you most want to protect and cherish, do you swear to be that light?

Will you be that beacon in the world when every other light fades?

Will you let your joy and courage shine in all your actions?]

"...On that which I most want to protect and cherish, I swear I will do all I can to try to be that light."

[You swore...

You swore it to us, Duncan of house Tallhart.

Remember now and forever your oath.]

"Now and Forever."

Roots slowly sprouted from the ground and wrapped around my hand...

Countless pieces of information entered my mind along with a familiar but purer energy.

The process lasted a few seconds, then the voices echoed one last time...

[Rise Paladin...

Paladin of the Gods whose names are forgotten...

Paladin of us Ancients...

arise Duncan Tallhart...

Paladin of the Old Gods.]

End POV.

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POV: Oberyn Martell;

Sunspear.

About five weeks after an oath was sworn...

Oberyn was annoyed and bored.

He had just been summoned by his brother for yet another lecture and reminder...

He entered his brother Doran's chambers.

The prince and protector of Dorne was sitting in his new wheelchair.

Over the past two years, his mild gout condition had worsened.

Doran could only stand for a maximum of three hours a day. The man tried to move around and walk as much as he could to try to stay as fit as possible.

Beside him was his loyal bodyguard and captain of the prince's escort guard, Areo Hotah from Norvos.

"Brother.

Axe lover. " Oberyn bowed to the first and nodded to the second, who was untouched by his prince's younger brother's little tease.

"Oberyn...I sent it to you two hours ago...

Why do you keep acting this way?" Doran asked in a calm but serious tone.

"Why do you try to restrain and asphyxiate my nature, beloved brother? I am a free spirit, full of love and passion...

Free spirits should not be disturbed during acts of full love...beloved brother." Oberyn.

"Our guest will arrive tomorrow.

I hope you will control that passion tomorrow.

I will say it again.

Tomorrow, you will welcome and guide our guests, offering all the hospitality and cordiality a Prince of Dorne should show.

Say it. By order of your Prince, say that you will do as I have just asked." Doran.

"Phew...Yes, brother, I will.

I will bring glory and honor to House Martell and in no way injure, poison, offend, seduce or defy our esteemed host." Doran nodded slightly, trying to think of a possible loophole for his brother in that sentence.

"House Tallhart is increasingly becoming the most influential and wealthy house in the Seven Kingdoms.

The heir of Lord Helman Tallhart is loved and revered throughout the North...

To offend, and gods save us, to injure that boy in any way will be a deep wound to the North itself...

a wound that will take its toll, Oberyn.

The North does not forget...

House Tyrell has learned those words the hard way.

'I have told you before.

I am eager and curious to meet the 'Legendary Bloody Snow' firsthand...

Could you remind me why he comes to Sunspear?" Oberyn asked, scratching his head.

"...

Oberyn Trade...

House Tallhart, wants to offer us a possible business partnership...

Our finances, they are not bright and plentiful, Oberyn...

We're losing ground in the salt trade.

Our revenue has dropped by 10% in the last two years...

House Martell needs this possible collaboration.

Let me remind you...

Every northern house that has partnered with the Tallharts... they have a bigger and more lucrative business than any of us.

The soap you love to use, the paper, your new leather armor, the alcoholic beverages you dabble in, and the new toilets and waterworks that help us not wastewater, all come from that House...

The incident at the tournament with the heir to House Tyrell has already been a blow Oberyn..." Doran concluded, recalling ''the incident'' at the tournament that had perpetually crippled Willas Tyrell during the joust a few months ago.

"I already told you!

That was an accident!

I unhorsed him and his foot got caught in the reins!

I have already apologized directly to Willas and he bears me no grudge or guilt.

It was his idiot father's fault!

He forced him to joust against experienced knights when he was not yet ready." Oberyn justified himself in a tone of annoyance and concealed anger.

Doran knew his brother was not lying.

"Nevertheless, friction with House Tyrell has flared and now Dorne buys grain from them at a higher price Oberyn...

This year's harvests were average.

We can NOT afford any more 'INCIDENTS'.

Do I make myself clear?" Doran.

"Crystalline, my prince."

End POV.

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POV: Kinvara the Red Priest;

Naath.

On the same day...

The servant of the Lord of Light looked out over the horizon towards Dorne.

She felt power flowing within her that she had not yet experienced fully.

From the balcony she could glimpse the garden, the mother of the chosen one was giving a history lesson to the two girls:

Rhaenys Targaryen [9 years old just turned] and Missandei [8 year old].

Kinvara was pleasantly impressed by the little girl Missandei. In only three months, the prodigy blessed by the flames of knowledge had learned from her The High Valyrian and The Old Valyrian...

The child was already fluent in 7 languages...

Her thoughts were interrupted by a presence behind her.

" May I disturb you for a moment, High Priestess? " A seven-year-old boy asked.

" For as many moments as you wish, Prince Aegon.

I am and will always be at your service.

What can I do to quench the doubts swirling in your mind?" Kinvara asked, extending a smile to Aegon Targaryen.

"Thank you, Priestess Kinvara...

May I ask, why my mother still won't reveal to my uncles, the identity of our ally?

Every time I try to ask her, she changes the subject or tells me I'm not old enough to know yet..." Aegon.

"...The chosen one of the Forgotten Gods will soon show himself to Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn, Sire.

Princess Elia has chosen to keep the secret, for it was I who suggested she wait and guard it.

I fear the discomfort of doubt that afflicts you, my prince, is because of me." Kinvara.

"Ah...May I ask why you suggested she wait?" Aegon.

"Because 'He who will stand by your side during The Long Night', was not yet ready, my prince...

He had needed more time.

Time to gather the necessary strength and prepare as best he could...

Your mother, she simply respected that choice." Kinvara.

The boy thought about Kinvara's words for a moment and then nodded, showing a sign of understanding.

But then another doubt popped up...one word between the lines in particular.

" Had? "

End POV.

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POV: Obara Sand;

Sunspear.

The day a welcome guest arrived...

The eldest of the 'Sand Snakes' ( sixteen years old ), was waiting at the entrance along with her two stepsisters Nymeria Sand ( thirteen years old ) and Tyene Sand ( eleven years old ).

By direct order of Oberyn, they were to be the first to welcome Bloody Snow into the palace.

Their father had promised Uncle Doran that he would in no way be able to intimidate or disturb their guest...

So Oberyn delegated the task to his daughters.

They were not to attack him but only to test the fame and glory of such an individual...

Oberyn did not want Dorne to bow to a lesser House of the North.

' The North is Dorne's enemy...' Obara thought, remembering the support Lord Stark had given to the usurper King Robert Baratheon.

Ned Stark had killed Dorne's greatest hero of the last century, Ser Arthur Dayne...along with his sister Ashara Dayne.

"Remember what our father said," Obara said to their sisters.

"Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken." The two sisters replied in unison.

The palace doors opened, and three figures, escorted by four spears and Areo Hotah, entered.

A boy in the center stood out above them all. Dressed in a white silk robe with exquisite green and silver decorative stitching, as if they were roots and branches of a plant. A blood-red symbol sewn onto his chest stood out slightly.

But the whole ensemble enhanced his well-groomed hair color, and especially his eyes.

Those eyes, which expressed gentleness and intelligence in a peculiar silvery-green, enhanced the uniqueness of this individual who was getting closer and closer.

Obara had also scrutinized the two young companions at his side, who were to be his escort.

One was at least 6 feet 3 inches tall and the other was at least half a foot shorter... but both of them expressed strength and confidence in every movement.

Those two know what they're doing... the tall one, in particular, is a good fighter. ' Obara assessed inwardly as he failed to praise the bearing of the two guards covered in exquisitely crafted studded leather armor.

A few seconds later...

"Lord Duncan of House Tallhart, Dorne welcomes you...it is an honor and a privilege to welcome the hero of the North, the infamous and legendary Bloody Snow...

I am Obara Sand, natural daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell, and these two by my side are my sisters, Nymeria Sand and Tyene Sand...

Welcome to House Martell, my lord." Obara said with a slight bow. The young warrior had used a subtle but unconcealed tone of mockery in her voice, but none of the three figures reacted or seemed to be bothered by it...

"Lady Obara, Lady Nymeria, Lady Tyene, I thank you for the warm and welcoming hospitality offered by House Martell.

I am Duncan Tallhart, son of Ser Helman Tallhart and heir to Torrhen's Square...but you may address me as 'Bloody Snow' if you wish.

These two young and promising men at my side are Commander Gellert son of Dyman and Vice Commander William son of Bradd. I would ask you, if possible, the courtesy to treat my two companions as an extension of myself if that is too much to ask...

My Ladies, let me be the first among the nobles of the North to express to you, ' Legendary Serpents of the Sands', the most heartfelt honor and privilege of meeting you.

It's not every day I get to meet three fine warriors from Dorne.

Especially you, Lady Obara...

I admire your choice at an early age to pick up the spear offered to you by your father Oberyn, that day he came to take you from your mother's arms in tears...

Tears and Lance...two fine weapons to choose from...and you, my lady, made the bravest choice in my opinion." Said with a polite and sincere tone, Bloody Snow.

The silence in the room lasted for a few seconds...

Obara Sand couldn't stop staring at that red symbol on the dress of that monster he had just unmasked...

The embroidery on the silk dress was in the shape of a winged knight wielding a two-handed hammer...

Obara couldn't stop staring at it because it represented her psycho-physical condition...

She felt as if she had just been hit by a mighty hammer...

Every part of her body trembled after hearing that being's words.

Only she, Oberyn, her mother and Nymeria, had to be aware of that part of her past... No one else had to be aware of it... she was more than certain...

'HOW?! HOW DOES HE KNOW?! WHO THE F*** ARE YOU, EVIL WIZARD?! I KILL YOU!!! YOU'RE DEAD!!! Shrieked Obara inwardly as a murderous look grew on her face.

Nymeria, sensing her sister's emotional state, intervened by grabbing her by the arm, fearful that she might perform an extreme and catastrophic act that would stain the name of House Martell for centuries...

"Lord Duncan, thank you for your praise, my lord.

Please, could you give us just a moment?

My sister is not feeling very well at the moment. Tyene!

Entertain our welcome guests during our brief absence." Said Nymeria immediately, seeking Tyene's gaze to express the urgency and delicacy that the moment required.

"Of course sister. My lords, if you will follow me...

A waiting room with drinks and refreshments awaits you. Our father, Prince Oberyn, will join us as soon as possible." Said the sweet and pretty young Tyene Sand showing a hallway with friendly gestures and tones.

"Of course my Ladies...

I hope it is nothing serious.

We wish you a speedy recovery, Lady Obara.

Please let us know if House Tallhart can help, we have good healers at our service less than a mile from the palace." Said Bloody Snow bowing his head.

"YOU! ...." Obara was interrupted and shushed.

"THANK YOU, my lord, for your helpfulness...

There will be no need, I assure you." Nymeria.

"As you wish, my ladies...

Lady Tyene, I and my companions gladly accept your guidance and hospitality, thank you."

End POV.

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POV: Nymeria Sand;

Royal Palace of House Martell, Sunsper.

Nymeria had recently dragged her screaming fury of a sister into a room as far away from the 'Gracious Guest' as possible...

After calming her sister down and swearing to her that she had never mentioned her past to anyone, Oberyn came to their aid...

After explaining the past events to him, his father, too, seemed shaken and enraged.

Oberyn hated anyone who even tried to lay a finger on his family. Perhaps asking her father for help was the wrong move...

She should have informed her uncle Doran directly... the Prince and Lord of Dorne.

A few minutes later...

Nymeria, Oberyn, and Ellaria Sand walked briskly towards the guest rooms.

Though fearful of the likely nefarious events that would soon unfold, Nymeria was also excited and intrigued by the way, her father Oberyn would demand justice.

The two women and the Prince at the head of the group opened the doors to the hall...

Oberyn approached with a leisurely step towards the three guests of honor, who were currently seated on a couch in the company of her sister Tyene.

"Lord Duncan Tallhart...

Forgive my tardiness, and let me welcome you in person to the palace.

I am Prince Oberyn of House Marte..."

The Prince's arrogantly charged words suddenly broke apart...

Oberyn was petrified by the figure a few steps away from him.

He stood motionless and silent for a few seconds before shouting...

"WELCOME! Welcome my friends! Dorne is honored to welcome you!" The Prince said in a warm and sincere tone, giving a deep and humble bow.

Then Oberyn turned to some servants and ordered:

"LET THERE BE A BANQUET! THE GREATEST THIS PALACE HAS EVER SEEN!

OUR HONOURED GUESTS SHALL KNOW ALL THE HOSPITALITY AND WELCOME THAT DORNE CAN OFFER!

MOVE!!!"....The attendants jumped in unison as they left the hall.

The only thing Nymeria Sand, second daughter of Prince Oberyn Martell, also known as ''The Red Viper of Dorne'', could think as she watched that scene was:

' WHAT THE F*** IS GOING ON? '