"Tell me the truth, Jon Snow. Are you the child of prophecy?"
"What?" The question came far too suddenly. For a brief moment, Mel felt at a loss.
"Daenerys once told me that only Jon Snow, resurrected from death, is the true child of prophecy, while I am merely like how Illyrio treated Daenerys and Viserys. They were nothing more than pawns paving the way for the 'true king.'"
Stannis's gaze was not sharp, and his tone was not harsh.
Yet his pupils were almost reflected in Melisandre's crimson eyes. His words were as direct as a blade, without the slightest detour.
"I once believed he was." Mel could not hide it, after all. The talkative Dragon Queen had already told Stannis everything.
"I was wrong," she said with a helpless, bitter smile. "You know this well. There are prophecies in the flames, but even more so, there are deceptive illusions.
The long night is endless, and danger lurks everywhere. The malice of the human heart is even more chilling than the frozen lands of the North.
The Wall lies within the domain of an alien god. My divinations were interfered with by the servants of the Cold God.
He sought to make me abandon the true child of prophecy, that is, you, and instead waste my time and effort on a follower of an alien god, thereby preventing the long night from being ended by the savior.
Fortunately, the great Lord of Light guided me out of my confusion and spared the world from falling into eternal calamity."
Do not assume Melisandre was lying. She truly believed her mistake was related to the Three-Eyed Crow.
R'hllor holds the ultimate authority over the interpretation of prophecy. If He says it is an illusion, then it is an illusion. Only the revelations He acknowledges are true revelations.
It was not that He wished to deceive Mel. If He could, He would have told her directly all the secrets concerning Jon, as well as the deviations that had arisen in the predetermined fate.
Just like Daenerys. She knew many secrets and often shared them with her younger followers. If you do not make things clear, how can they accurately understand your intent and perfectly accomplish the tasks you assign them?
Unfortunately, R'hllor had previously been too distant from the material world, making it difficult to communicate directly with His followers through thought.
As a result, much of the information R'hllor conveyed to Mel was misunderstood by her.
Prophecy itself is never wrong. What is wrong is only the interpretation of prophecy.
Stannis studied the priestess deeply and, for the moment, accepted this explanation.
Only after confirming once more his identity as the child of prophecy did he begin to ask about the "savior's set," specifically the demonic dragon mount.
"The body of the dragon soul within the horn has been dead for thousands of years. How can it be revived?"
"We have wyverns."
"Wyverns?" Stannis asked skeptically. "What use is reviving a wyvern?"
"Have you read The Unnatural History of Dragons by Septon Barth?" Mel asked.
Stannis pressed his lips together and said impatiently, "That book is very famous. I have heard of it, but its contents are absurd and heretical. It was banned by Baelor the Blessed."
"It is not absurd. The Targaryens only moved their entire family to Dragonstone four hundred years ago. When they left Valyria, they certainly did not forget the family collections accumulated over thousands of years.
Those books recorded many Valyrian secrets, such as the stoneworking techniques used to build Dragonstone, and the magical arcane arts for mining volcanoes.
They also recorded the secret of the origin of dragons.
Septon Barth once served as the keeper of the royal library and was a close friend of King Jaehaerys. He had the opportunity to access those exceedingly rare tomes.
Therefore, The Unnatural History of Dragons has great reference value.
Had Valyria not yet been destroyed, if Septon Barth had dared to publish such a book, not only would he himself have failed to survive, even the Targaryens would likely have been implicated."
"What is the point of saying this now? Those collections were long ago burned by Baelor the Blessed," Stannis said impatiently.
If you had read that book, you would not be asking all these questions now.Mel sighed inwardly and said directly, "The dragons of this era were born of blood magic. The Valyrian ancestors fused wyverns with firewyrms to create the first generation of great dragons.
After that, the first dragons bred all the dragons of Valyria.
And Vhagar, bound within the dragonbinder horn, is one of those first dragons.
Vhagar's soul, flesh, and bloodline are all half derived from wyverns.
And when the first Valyrians practiced blood magic, the object of their sacrifice was the former Lord of Fire, today's Lord of Light, the Great One, R'hllor.
So, you understand now, do you not?"
Stannis nodded slowly. The red-robed woman had made herself very clear. How could he fail to understand?
"So all it takes is a simple sacrifice to merge Vhagar's soul into a wyvern's body, reviving the wyvern into a true dragon?"
"More or less, but…" Mel's gaze drifted as she hesitated. "The sacrifice is not simple."
"It requires king's blood. I know that."
"It requires what you cherish most." Facing Stannis's suddenly widened eyes, Mel turned her head away, unable to continue.
"What do you mean?" Stannis's gaze grew dangerous.
"How did Azor Ahai forge the Red Sword of Heroes?" Mel lifted her delicate chin and looked at Stannis. "He failed countless times before he sacrificed his beloved wife, Nissa Nissa.
The demonic dragon is your Red Sword of Heroes. You, too, must forge your own instrument of salvation."
Stannis's stern expression suddenly became very strange.
"I am to sacrifice Selyse?"
If he could obtain an adult demigod dragon, sacrificing that wind-eared, long-bearded, ill-tempered wife of his, who was just as tall and burly as he was, might not be unacceptable after all.
"No," Aunt Mel's pretty face twitched a few times. How could there be such a good thing in the world?
"It's Shireen!"
"Smack!"
The slap came suddenly and fiercely. Aunt Mel's head was knocked to the side, leaving her stunned, her ears ringing. Her cheek instantly swelled into a bluish-red, bun-like lump.
She was just about to question it, but when she turned her head and saw the crimson eyes of Er Lu, blazing with a near-devouring fury, she let out a soft sigh and silently swallowed her grievance.
"Shireen is my heir. Don't even think about touching her," Er Lu said coldly, then stormed off in anger.
"Where is this?"
Aegon walked through a vast expanse of whiteness, looking left and right in confusion.
Beneath his feet were steps of white jade. Within his field of vision, there was nothing at all, only clouds drifting past him, glowing with white and golden light.
The High Sparrow leading the way ahead did not turn his head back. He said calmly, "This is Mount Heaven, the final resting place of the true souls of the Seven's saints."
"Ah, I've gone to heaven!" Aegon cried out. Then his expression changed several times as memories of what had happened before his death flooded back.
"Stannis was going to sacrifice me to R'hllor. Turns out I'm a saint, so my soul came to heaven." As he said this, a bitter smile tugged at the corner of Aegon's mouth. "That's fine. The human world had already become hell for me. Death is fine too, at least I made it to heaven."
The High Sparrow finally turned around and frowned. "You are not a saint."
"But you just said heaven is the dwelling place of saints," Aegon said in confusion.
"Yes, this is the holy heaven above, the final destination of saints. But you are not a saint."
On the High Sparrow's stern face was a thick look of disgust. The way he looked at Aegon was like someone staring at a lump of filth dropped into a pot of delicious chicken soup.
"If I'm not a saint, then why can I come to heaven?" Aegon was very dissatisfied with the old man's reaction. "Honored guide, I grew up in a foreign land, but I have always believed in the Seven. I've never done anything wrong my entire life. Isn't it reasonable for me to go to heaven?"
"You believe in the Seven, but you are not devout. You should have entered the Stranger's realm. You absolutely should not have come here," the High Sparrow said, shaking his head.
"Yet here I am," Aegon said, lifting his chin.
"That is because of Daenerys."
"Aunt Dany…" Aegon's expression turned dazed. It was a name both familiar and distant, and he had not expected to hear it again in heaven.
"What did she do?" he asked wistfully.
"She is also a saint. After her death, like me, she could ascend to heaven and become one of its administrators.
"When you were about to be dragged into hell by the evil god, she sensed what was happening to you through the Holy Knight's Seal.
"Then she prayed to the Holy Mother for help and, in the end, used her own status as a saint to exchange it for your place in heaven."
"Ah…" The answer was far too unexpected. Aegon was stunned.
"But… but is this really true?"
"Would I lie in heaven?" the High Sparrow shouted angrily.
"But I'm not Rhaegar's son, not her nephew!" Aegon covered his face, squatted down, and began to sob.
"Sigh. She said that even without a blood relationship, you still shared a bond, and she could not bear to see you swallowed by a dark demon god."
Recalling the scene of Daenerys kneeling before the Holy Mother, loudly expounding on the meaning of a "compassionate heart," the High Sparrow could not help but sigh. In kindness and selflessness, I am inferior to her.
No wonder I failed the final trial and returned to the heavenly realm before completing the mission of ending the Long Night.
"Waaah…" Upon hearing this, Aegon cried even harder.
"Huh?" the High Sparrow exclaimed in surprise.
Just then, before his eyes, the gray, rough linen clothes on Aegon's body turned into white, holy monk's robes. A faint golden radiance also seeped from the center of his brow, outlining three points of a seven-pointed star.
Then the golden light on those three points overflowed and lit up two more points.
"What's happening?" Aegon, still crying, also noticed the changes in himself.
"Not bad. You do have some spiritual insight," the High Sparrow said, his expression easing somewhat. "You have gained a new understanding of the Seven's teachings and have been promoted to a Five-Star believer. You are now only one level away from becoming a saint who can ascend to heaven."
"Five-Star believer?"
The High Sparrow pulled Aegon up from the ground and explained as they walked upward, "Based on a believer's level of understanding of the Seven's teachings, there are seven ranks in total."
In essence, it is a classification based on the amount of faith power one provides, a measure of devotion. Ordinary people are around 1.0 and are shallow believers, One Star. From 1.0 to 10.0 are true believers, Two Star. From 10 to 50 are devout believers, Three Star. From 50 to 100 are fanatics, Four Star. From 100 to 150 are intercessors, Five Star. From 150 to 200 are saints, Six Star. From 200 to 250 are holy sons, Seven Star.
Aegon's devotion had previously been relatively low, but in order to obtain the Holy Knight's Seal, he raised it above 10.0.
Recently, after the dramatic ups and downs of his life, his ascent into heaven, and being moved by Aunt Dany's noble compassion, his devotion suddenly soared from 21 points to 110, making him a Five-Star intercessor.
After hearing the High Sparrow's explanation, Aegon wiped away his tears and said excitedly, "If I work hard to become a saint, can Aunt Dany's… Aunt Dany's status as a saint be returned to her?"
"Hmm. Daenerys has no blood relation to me, but she is still my aunt."
A determined light shone in his eyes, as if he were explaining to those around him, and also calmly accepting his own identity.
(End of Chapter)
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