Chapter 391: Creating a Myth
Egger didn't believe in prophecies, but that didn't stop a vast number of other people from believing in them. Rather than being a foolish, indignant youth who looked down on believers as simpletons, Egger preferred to do something useful—find a way to exploit that belief.
This was precisely why he chose to name the set of reforged arrows Lightbringer instead of Egger's Arrows or Arrows of the Night's Watch. It wasn't because he thought the name was cool or because he enjoyed plagiarizing a prophecy's copyright; it was because using that name would subconsciously lead people to accept that the owner of the arrows was the legendary hero destined to save humanity. In this way, he could easily harness the existing influence of that famous prophecy for his own use, significantly boosting the confidence of the Gift's soldiers and civilians in their coming victory.
There were seventy-one arrows. Egger named them "Lightbringer I," "Lightbringer II," and so on, up to "Lightbringer LXXI," so that their authenticity could be verified and their individual ownership distinguished if necessary in the future.
However, leveraging this momentum required more than simply carving names and numbers onto the shafts. He needed to spread the word—if not to the whole world, then at least to the people of the Gift and the North: Lightbringer had manifested.
In a world with primitive communication and slow information flow, was there an effective way to let a large number of residents, not just the raven-keeping elite, learn of and accept an event?
There certainly was: a tournament.
When a major house welcomes a new high-born heir and wants to announce it; when a lord selects a legal heir and wants others to bear witness; when a regional hegemon is bored and wants to flaunt wealth or military might... or even when a noble is plotting a conspiracy or rebellion... in short, as a social activity known to everyone, the tournament of this era was a blend of a military exercise and a press conference. The combat was merely a form, an excuse, a side dish—not the goal. The true core lay in the host gathering a large crowd to convey a message.
It was just like the tournament Robert held when Eddard arrived in King's Landing to take office. The reason it was celebrated by countless people as The Hand's Tourney wasn't because the Hand wanted it or paid for it, but because the theme of the tournament was to send an important political signal: King Robert had chosen Lord Stark to be his next Hand, and anyone else with ideas could forget them.
Currently, the situation at the Gift—especially at the front lines of the Gorge—was tense, making it clearly unsuitable to recall men for a full-scale tournament. However, Queenscrown and the nearby Castle Black already gathered more than a third of the Gift's total military and civilian population. Hosting a simple archery competition here would be enough to broadcast the news of Lightbringer's birth far and wide, greatly bolstering the overall combat confidence of the human forces in the Gift.
Interestingly, even after Egger had a flash of inspiration for a good idea, Myrcella was still able to offer him a few more suggestions.
"Seventy-one arrows—that number is a bit awkward," the little princess whispered, frowning with mock seriousness as they walked back. "You'd be better off publicly claiming you forged seventy-seven arrows. That number is very sacred in the Faith of the Seven; it will surely make many believers tireless, free promoters of your story. Didn't that blacksmith master make a few sample arrowheads earlier using his own Valyrian steel? You could buy six of them to serve as 'Lightbringer LXXII' through 'Lightbringer LXXVII'—after colluding with him to make up the numbers. Then, wrap the shafts in gold to improve their appearance; countless people will surely flock to them."
Egger blinked at her. He had previously only regarded Myrcella as a cute, fallen child who needed protection, but now he realized her ability to offer advice was top-tier, and the expression she wore while thinking was unexpectedly captivating. "An excellent suggestion, but those fighting alongside me aren't all followers of the Seven. I can't concoct a lie just to please that one faction."
"You can make the story longer, adding other elements to cater to the feelings of people of all faiths," Myrcella said, immediately coming up with a new tactic after a moment's thought. "You must realize that people always believe what they want to believe. For instance, if you publicly declare that you forged seventy-seven Lightbringers with the help of a priestess of the Lord of Light, then in this story, both the followers of the Seven and the believers of R'hllor can find their own emphasis and elements worth spreading around..."
"And what about us Northerners! We believe in the Old Gods!"
Arya stomped her feet in frustration beside them, nearly shouting. This is my master; why are you constantly finding excuses to strike up conversations with him!
"Um... sorry, I almost forgot," Myrcella apologized quickly, bowing her head to think. "Then add some elements related to the Old Gods. In the faith of the Northerners and the New Gift folk, what is universally considered sacred?"
"Heart trees!" Arya blurted out. She felt threatened: if she didn't show some cleverness to attract attention, she would soon be outclassed by Myrcella in front of her master and become nothing but a stupid girl who only knew how to wave a sword. "We can say at the very beginning of the story that Master found that sword in front of a heart tree! Since Bran gave you the sword anyway, I just need to coordinate with him!"
"That makes sense," Myrcella agreed. "We can say that Lord Egger pulled the unnamed Valyrian steel sword from a heart tree that had been struck by lightning or scorched by fire, and then the destroyed weirwood appeared to him in a dream, telling him to reforge the sword into Lightbringer!"
Egger had initially listened to the two girls' discussion as if it were just fun, but as the details of the story became more complete and its content grew more substantial, his expression slowly turned serious. The more he listened, the more plausible it sounded. Wasn't this... creating a myth?
He found a mysterious, precious sword thrust into a massive heart tree and, with the help of a priestess of the Lord of Light, melted and reforged it into seventy-seven arrows named Lightbringer. Combined with what he had already decided: regardless of how the Night King's army was eventually repelled, the Night's Watch would announce to the world that Lightbringer had shot the Night King and ended the war...
All of this, when pieced together, formed a story that followers of the Old Gods, the Red God, the Seven—and even those who didn't believe in gods but had simply heard the prophecy—could find something in and would be happy to spread. It was a story capable of generating immense power in public opinion!
As long as it could be spread across the world, hundreds or thousands of years later, people would surely treat this story as a legitimate part of mythology, over-analyzing the words and details in an attempt to restore a truth that could never be restored.
"Hmph, tedious." Melisandre let out a cold snort, showing utter disdain for this wanton invention of stories and the desecration of the divine. Although she occasionally used illusions and rhetoric to achieve her goals, there was one principle she would not break: never colluding or conspiring with anyone other than high priests to act out a scene, lest it damage her own sense of mystery and power. "Fabricate as you wish, but leave my name out of it. I never participated in this discussion of yours, nor did I hear a single word."
With that, the Red Woman swept away, heading straight back to her room.
"Ignore her, she won't go around snitching. This idea is very interesting and worth refining and implementing further." Egger smiled dismissively and turned to instruct several of his trusted guards not to spread what they had heard. "It's late now. You two girls, come to my room after dinner. We'll polish and refine this story together. While the archery tournament is being held, we will spread this new myth far and wide through various means."
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