Religion is a product of the development and transformation of human society. It inevitably changes along with the course of history.
According to Engels' theory of historical materialism and the principle that religion adapts to society, the evolution of religion can be divided into three stages: the spontaneous tribal religions of primitive communities, the national religions founded by individuals during the height of slavery, and finally the world religions, which arose when empires supported and spread certain faiths across vast realms.
In this world, long before recorded history, the Children of the Forest in Westeros worshiped nameless spirits of stone, earth, and trees—what are now called the Old Gods.
Meanwhile, the Rhoynar of Essos revered the Mother Rhoyne, the Crab King, and the Old Man of the River.
All these beliefs reflected a form of animism—primitive faiths born of nature.
Among the Children of the Forest, the greenseers—shaman-like mystics—possessed powerful magic. They could commune with beasts and birds, and even see through the carved faces of weirwoods.
Such primal religions had no priests, sermons, hymns, or ceremonies, only oral traditions passed from generation to generation.
The Faith of the Seven, now the dominant religion in Westeros, is often called simply "the Church." To distinguish it from older beliefs, its deities are sometimes called the New Gods.
Though it is worship of one god, that god takes seven aspects, each embodying a virtue:
The Father embodies justice.
The Mother represents compassion and nurture.
The Warrior grants courage and victory.
The Maiden symbolizes innocence and chastity.
The Smith stands for labor and creation.
The Crone offers wisdom and guidance.
The Stranger, rarely prayed to, represents death and the unknown.
In Essos, there are as many gods as there are peoples. One may find worship for nearly any deity imaginable. In essence, this is polytheism.
Yet the most powerful and widespread faith in Essos is the worship of R'hllor, the Lord of Light—a dualistic religion of fire and shadow, light and darkness.
The High Priests of R'hllor in Volantis have long sought to spread their god's dominion across the world, transforming their faith into a world religion.
They once sent Thoros of Myr across the Narrow Sea to preach in Westeros, particularly to King Aerys II Targaryen, who was already obsessed with fire. But Thoros failed to display any awe-inspiring flame magic before the king, and the Lord of Light remained little known in the Seven Kingdoms.
Now, the current High Priest Benerro prays fervently for visions of the future, seeking the reborn hero of prophecy—the return of Azor Ahai. Whether the world after the Long Summer truly requires salvation or not, Benerro devotes himself to rallying more followers to this chosen one.
His fiery speech concluded, yet the echoes of the crowd's cries still thundered across the great square.
Through the sea of believers, the Hand of the Fiery Heart carved a path for Moqorro, leading him toward the High Priest.
Unlike his resounding voice, Benerro himself seemed quiet—tall and gaunt, his bald, milk-white face covered in flame tattoos. His eyes, as clear as crystal submerged in water, glowed faintly with a light Moqorro dared not meet.
"There are old and young horses, fiery steeds and black goats, true kings and false ones," Benerro intoned. "And I saw you—your clumsy body standing among the herd, yet without the will to ignite the fire."
For the first time, Moqorro, ever calm even in peril, felt a surge of unease gnaw at his composure.
The High Priest did not invite him into the temple.
It was as if he had already glimpsed everything in the flames—or learned all from others.
Turning his gaze upon the Black Walls of Volantis, Benerro continued:
"Within those walls, the so-called Old Blood tremble at their tables and restlessly command their slaves. Beyond the walls, in their eyes, all men are as beggars and thralls, no matter what we speak or preach. Do you not see? The Long Bridge unites the city's two halves, yet the black gates cut them apart. Since their raising, the Black Walls have silenced words. You worry too much for the temple, too much for Volantis, and too little for the Lord of Light. The more you fret, the shorter your sight becomes."
The Black Walls house the descendants of the Valyrian Freehold's noble families—the so-called Old Blood. No outsider, neither freedman nor foreigner, may enter without invitation.
As Volantis lies so close to Slaver's Bay, it became not only a vital link in the chain of slave trade but also its greatest market. On average, every Volantene freeman owns five slaves.
Even their coin reflects this duality: the honor coin bears a crown upon one side and a skull upon the other—glory for the master, death for the slave.
"Mortals must always choose," Benerro declared. "You and I, men and women, noble and lowly—we choose between light and darkness, justice and evil, the true god and the false. Yet there can only be one hero, and he must choose light, justice, and the one true god."
He lifted his gaze to the fiery red sun above, folding his hands at his waist, his voice both calm and unshakable.
"Moqorro, return to your khal. Guide him. Help him. The Lord of Light will show you the way. Remember this well: One King. One Nation. One God. Find the king, and grant him all that he asks."