The Audience

In the grand hall of the citadel, Sinclair Snow, the youthful Godking, stood upon his dais, his eyes gleaming with pride as he addressed the Ten Eyes. Each member stood before him, their unique appearance a testament to their bond and their purpose.

"My dear Ten Eyes," Sinclair Snow began, his voice echoing through the chamber, "you have done me proud. With your guidance and your cunning, you have succeeded in plunging the Seven Kingdoms into total war."

He gestured to each member in turn, his gaze lingering on their singular features—their large, piercing eyes that seemed to see into the very soul of Westeros.

"To you, First Eye, known as Aelar," he said, addressing the leader of the Ten, "your wisdom and foresight have been invaluable. You have orchestrated this conflict with skill and precision, bringing House Stark into the fray with whispers of betrayal and deceit."

Aelar bowed low, his one large eye glittering with pride at the praise of his Godking.

"And to you, Second Eye, called Malvo," Sinclair continued, turning his attention to the next member, "your mastery of intrigue and manipulation has been unmatched. You have sown the seeds of discord and chaos, drawing House Lannister into the conflict through promises of power and wealth."

Malvo inclined his head, a faint smile playing upon his lips as he accepted the praise.

"And to all the rest of you," Sinclair said, his voice ringing out with warmth and approval, "your contributions have not gone unnoticed. Each of you has played your part in this grand design."

He went on to name each Eye, praising them for their role in ensnaring their assigned great houses in the web of war. From House Baratheon to House Tyrell, each Eye had manipulated events and whispers to turn the noble families against each other, fueling the flames of conflict and chaos.

As Sinclair Snow concluded his speech, the members of the Ten Eyes exchanged glances, a sense of camaraderie and pride flowing between them. In that moment, they felt united in purpose, bound together by their loyalty to their Godking and their shared vision of a Westeros brought to its knees.

In the dimly lit chamber of the citadel, the Ten Eyes convened, their presence casting long shadows against the walls. Each Eye bore the unmistakable mark of Sinclair Snow's power—a single, piercing eye, glowing with an otherworldly light. They spoke among themselves, their voices a symphony of whispers and murmurs.

"Ah, Aelar," began Zephyr, his voice smooth like silk. "The Godking's praise must have gone to your head. Tell us, how does it feel to be the favored child?"

Aelar chuckled softly, his eye gleaming with amusement. "It is a sweet taste, indeed," he replied, his tone tinged with pride. "But let us not forget the task at hand. We have much work to do."

The other Eyes nodded in agreement, their gazes turning to the leader among them, a figure known simply as Shade. "Indeed," Shade said, his voice commanding. "Our work in Westeros is but the beginning. We must now turn our attention to Essos."

"Agreed," echoed Sable, her voice sharp and decisive. "The Free Cities are ripe for manipulation. We shall sow the seeds of discord and watch chaos bloom."

"As it should be," murmured Ember, his tone dark and brooding. "But let us not forget the dangers that lie ahead. The followers of R'hllor are strong in Essos, and they will not take kindly to our interference."

The other Eyes nodded solemnly, their expressions grave. They knew that their task would not be easy, that they would face many challenges and obstacles along the way. But they were united in their purpose, bound together by their loyalty to their Godking and their determination to protect the citadel at all costs.

And so, with their plans laid and their resolve steeled, the Ten Eyes prepared to embark on their next great endeavor, knowing that the fate of their world rested in their hands.