Game of Thrones: Paladin of Old Gods

POV: The Beloved Daughter

Island of a Thousand Virgins.

About two hours after the Tributes were picked up...

The sunset was a few moments earlier. Faint glimmers of twilight illuminated short stretches of the sky, but the night was coming.

The carriage drawn by four pitch-black mares stopped. The draught beasts had been trained to not need a coachman to reins them.

The path at the mouth of the forest soon turned into a smooth, straight asphalt road.

As soon as the last glimmer of light fell, hundreds of lanterns hung on either side of the roadside, illuminating the way.

A straight path that lasted more than an hour.

The doors were opened by a young albino maiden auburn hair with, slightly cerulean lips and crimson eyes. The first person with an uncovered face on the island. The girl must have been just fourteen or fifteen years old at most.

"Welcome to the Isle of a Thousand Virgins, milady Malora. My name is Shanya, a humble acolyte in the service of the High Priestess, and I will have the honour and privilege of being your guide. Come, my lady, The Great Mother awaits your arrival." The apprentice introduced herself, offering a hand to help the guest down the steps of the dam-wood carriage.

The Mad Maid allowed herself to be guided. Ser Murdor followed the pair silently, keeping a distance of ten feet from the protégé.

"You must be tired and hungry. A feast of refreshments awaits you along with my mistress. There will not be much walking, milady.

Throughout the journey that will follow, I beg you to keep your eyes on the lantern. So many creatures guarding the island do not like to be watched." She warned the guide with a gentle tone and a warm smile.

"Lead the way, Shanya."

A few minutes later...

The air was warm and comfortable in the clearing. A perfectly calm and relaxing spring night. Breezes of air caressed the Mad Maid's pearl silk dress, increasing the maiden's desire to deprive herself of it to allow her skin to taste the zephyr.

The banquet was set outdoors in the centre of a royal garden decorated with statues and unknown flowers of every shade of colour arranged in the order of the rainbow spectrum. A peculiar rainbow, dark but at the same time distinct.

Black glass statues depicting naked female creatures engaged in postures and acts of lust surrounded the semi-amphitheatre open to the starry sky.

In its midst, a giant tree with black bark rose to a height of nearly one hundred and fifty feet. The blue leaves were the size of a carousel shield. Three branches, as thick as the trunk of a centuries-old oak, thinned into hundreds of smaller components as wide as saplings.

The trunk, as wide as a tower, opened at the base to form an open female mouth, and at the bottom of the entrance, an altar was raised by fourteen steps that narrowed as they went toward the top.

The figure seated on the ebony-carved throne ten feet high was semi-naked. Skin as smooth and snow-white as a rosy pearl, two skeletal black carved hands covering her bare breasts. A dark steel tiara, necklace, earrings, and anklets set with various jewels.

The thickest, most extended, straightest hair Malora had ever seen wrapped the figure like a black robe. The beautiful Sovereign creature was in appearance as young as a woman in her prime, but at the same time exuded an ancient and powerful aura that contradicted her age...

A pale loving smile accompanied by inquisitive, bright blue eyes greeted the trembling and anxious guest.

"My child... Malora, my child. You have grown so much...

Come closer, my child. Allow me, this mother, to admire all your splendour." The figure stood up, showing a face seemingly filled with love and emotion.

"Mother -- are you my mother?" The Mad Maid would punish herself in the future for this silly question, but the moment's emotion overpowered any logical thought. Her daughter's foot moved involuntarily forward.

All her life, she had hoped to know the name of her mother figure, but she had no name. Or rather, she had had far too many that she could no longer be identified with a 'common' notion.

The figure rose from her throne and abandoned the royalty of her gestures by heading with open arms toward the young creature.

The skin was soft and warm, and the scent was suave beyond belief.

"Of course I am, my child. Embrace me -- yes, like that, abandon yourself in your Mother's arms. I have missed you so much, Malora.

Malora... my Beloved Daughter." The young woman let the moment wash over her, sobbing and giving vent to her tears as The Great Mother gently stroked her head.

Seconds passed until they accumulated into minutes. Finally, when the due moment between Mother and daughter passed, the Sovereign of the Island spoke.

"Set up the banquet! Let the greatest feast of this era take place on this Island!" So ordered the Mother, causing a hundred faithful followers in her employ to bow and jerk simultaneously.

"Come, my daughter. Walk with me. I want you to tell me all that an undeserving mother let slip while raising her only true daughter."

End POV.

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POV: Author

Sacred Gardens of the Goddess, Thousand Virgin Island.

After about an hour of storytelling and love walks later ...

The gardens became tangled by elaborate labyrinths of hedges filled with flowers and carnivorous plants. However, the Sovereign of the Island was accommodating and well disposed to describe each plant's properties and peculiarities to Malora's inquisitive mind.

Shanya and three other personal handmaids of the High Priestess prepared to pick up the long hair rubbing the ground. Two other maidservants carried silver trays with ivory cups and jugs for drinks.

Ser Murdor was escorting both of his mistresses.

"Your father raised you well. I am glad of that... It will be up to me to take care of you, my daughter." Said the Mother.

"You mean... "Malora's eyes shone with hope.

"I cannot leave the Island yet, so you will stay here and train for a few years with me, Malora. Would you like to spend time with your Mother?" Sovereign asked.

"Of course I do! With all my heart, Mother! However... Oldtown, the council..." Malora interpellated the problem of her new role as a member of the High Council.

"Oh, fear not, my child. You will have eyes and ears that will represent you. But, for the good of us all, it is vital that your magical training begin as soon as possible.

Our enemies would have no qualms about taking down all possible future threats at their disposal.

You will be the most powerful weapon and shield of my and your father's legacy, Malora... You will have to learn to defend yourself and enhance your enormous potential." Great Mother.

"I will learn, Mother. I will not fail you! I will be worthy of this honour, you will see." Malora.

"Ahahah... I don't doubt it, my child. I don't doubt it...

Allow me to test your potential, if I may." The dark steel artificial nail lightly pricked the fingertip of the Mad Maid's thumb. The woman guided the finger between her lips and keyed the taste of the drop of blood.

"Mmm... yes... So much magic flows through your veins, my beloved Beloved Daughter. Yes... A powerful enchantress you will become. What a suave affinity for the magic of darkness." The epiphany of praise and smiles partially disquieted the maiden, but pride and happiness soon ousted the disquiet.

"Now tell me, Malora. Your father mentioned to me urgent matters that have arisen in the North... But, before we indulge in pleasure, let us resolve tedious duties." Great Mother.

Malora gladly and ardently went along with the request.

A snap of the Sovereign's fingers was enough to grant more intimacy and privacy to the duo.

"Ser Murdor, my valiant Knight. You may stay." The Black Knight bowed one knee to the ground in obedience and gratitude shown.

The brilliant mind of the Beloved Daughter approached to explain in full detail every detail of the High Council meeting, pointing out all the recent events that had shaken the balance of the World.

The Great Mother listened attentively to every detail, allowing the girl to speak freely while expounding any personal opinions on the matter...

The minutes passed...

"Tsz... What a bunch of inept sheep. They should have stopped the agreement with House Tallhart even before winter.

First, they kill a precious guinea pig without permission and now this...

Those brainless sheep got a little too excited by bleating a few spells. We will soon have to remind them who really guards what..." The Great Mother first showed a spark of tenebrous fury in her blue eyes.

The black pupils began to dilate, covering much of the colour of the iris.

"I agree, Mother... Grand Archmaester Embrose assured that all possible studies and research on the subject were carried out with rigorous attention to detail. Still, they could not discover the origin of the magic flowing in that acolyte." Malora.

"Your father should have brought that subject to me! Now, all that Power is scattered in who knows what icy, forgotten corner of that heath dominated by red saplings..." Great Mother.

"Do you know where that silvery light has gone, Mother?" asked Malora in astonishment.

"Vaguely, my child... My sight cannot reach the domains of the Guardian of Beauty, but even a blind and deaf novice enchanter could have perceived that huge arcane discrepancy that crashed like thunder in the North. Surely even the brat from Carcosa must have sensed it.

It is no accident that half of the Confederacy is coming to the lands of the First Men shortly after that anomaly.

I wonder if that dirty metamorphic Druid has already revealed to the Arcane Tower the unknown word of Power..." Malora involuntarily scratched her head, trying to deduce all the information she was missing.

The secrets held behind the Words of Power were arcane and divine mysteries still unknown even to the Great Wizard of the Tower, Leyton Hightower.

"What about the other 'Blessings'?" Her mother asked.

"It seems that Victarion Greyjoy and Aeron Wet Hair may have somehow escaped the clutches of the Royal Fleet. Some fishing boats in Arbor have reported the presence of a dozen sails imprinted with the golden Kraken on a black background...

We need to find out more information about these allegedly gifted ones.

We have already sent ships to follow Victarion's trail...

Bloody Snow may also possess a similar power.

Several rumours claim that the Torrhen's Square heir's sword glowed green during the final slash that nipped Denys Drumm...

Khal Drogo and the High Priestess of Dosh Khaleen are the 'Most Certain Blessed Ones.' They openly flaunt magic and miracles in front of all Vaes Dothrak, but they are also the hardest to catch.

Drogo has more than 30,000 warriors in his retinue, and the Priestess is protected day and night by hundreds of worshippers of the 'Great Mother of the Mountains'... In addition, The Iron Bank is assiduously trying to gain Drogo's favour by protecting the duo in the shadows." The Beloved Daughter.

"I see... They do look like difficult horses to tame.

And what about that miraculous 'High Sparrow'?" The Great Mother.

"It is complicated, Mother. Both the High Septon of the Baelor Temple and the Starry Sept have tried several times to make contact with the High Sparrow, but he has always refused.

We know that his healing magics emit rainbow-coloured glows of light, but we have not been able to grasp its properties.

Many followers called 'Sparrows' are protecting him at the cost of their lives. He gains the favour of villages, castles, and towns throughout the lands of the Rivers and the Valley... Many other eyes are also keeping an eye on him.

The commoners and lesser nobles love him.

We sent dozens of spies and hired dozens of mercenaries in an attempt to capture him, but it was all in vain.

Father's Astra Wisdom called a vote on a 'no action' motion and obtained a majority favour.

Oldtown cannot go against the 'Chosen of the Seven'." Explained the Beloved Daughter.

"And what do you think about that?" Great Mother.

"Personally, I approve of the decision made.

It is undeniable that we need information about these unknown 'unwanted powers.' Still, it is also true that the High Sparrow could be an excellent pawn to use should other gifted people choose to use those powers against us.

That Septon is a fanatic of the faith of the Seven; he does not tolerate other heretical faith cults in any way." Malora.

"A decision unwelcome to my mysterious seeker nature...but there is logic in what you say.

Patience. We'll just have to wait until the time is more mature.

So, my dear... It seems that an exciting tournament is coming to Westeros.

Your opinion on its possible developments? What do you think the 'Legendary Hero of the North', the proponent of all this turmoil, is up to?" The Great Mother.

"Hard to come up with a sound theory, Mother. Information is the key to a clear and proper plan. But unfortunately, we do not possess much of it.

The Braavosians must have set their sights on Torrhen's Square with too much ferocity, threatening The Watcher's protégé.

This alone may have forced the Spider Queen to erect the highest defensive barriers in the entire North. But, mother, we have no idea what happened in those lands throughout the winter.

Now that the Guardian of Love has freed Bloody Snow from his circle of protection, don't you think it's time to-" Malora was interrupted.

"No… not yet. That little boy doesn't seem to be clueless.

He pretends to be easy prey by concealing in his shadow giants ready to move mountains and oceans to protect him.

The Guardian of Beauty has branded him with its seal. And I bet the other two are also waiting for a 'Big Fish' to make a bold move... Hunting is an art that requires patience, my daughter." Malora nodded, processing each new piece of information.

"Speaking of hunting, have there been any developments regarding the search for Valgudryel's descendants? Have you been able to find the Targaryens?" Mother asked.

"Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen are still in Braavos, but their protector, Ser Willem Darry's days are numbered. Soon they must leave the Titan's abode and seek a new home." Malora was interrupted.

"You know very well, my dear, that those are not the Targaryens I am interested in...

I speak of Rhaegar's pups. I have already warned your father that the union between the descendants of Fire and Water is a problem... The womb-fruit children of Elia Nymeros Martell must be eradicated as soon as possible." Warned the Great Mother.

"Unfortunately, we could not find them, Mother. As you suggested, we have searched every temple and priesthood of the Red God without finding success...Lord Leyton also sent me here to request your help regarding this regrettable failure." The air was no longer filled with love and understanding.

Clouds of tension slowly began to gather around the Oldtown spokesman.

"I cannot-as. I have already reported to your father, track down the High Priestess of R'hllor, and you will find the Targaryens. I'm beginning to get fed up with all these failures, my dear..." The Great Mother calmed the gloomy thoughts by closing her eyes and inhaling air saturated with Magic.

"Forgive me, my child. It is not your fault. It's just that I, like you, loathe unsolved riddles... It cannot be ruled out that there may be the hand of the Guardian of Magic behind this mystery.

Tsz... That old canary has been chirping around me for ages now.

He pretends that he is a helpless celebrant forced to be locked in a cage, but in reality, he is more guarded and responsive than ever.

No matter. Let's get back to the heart of the matter... the North." The Great Mother urged her daughter to continue the interrupted main topic.

"The rout of Balon was worse than expected. House Greyjoy was almost completely annihilated.

The Harlaw Royal Family has regained the reins over the Abyssal people, Mother..." The High Priestess' nose curled for the second time in a row.

Then she gently stroked her forehead, closing her eyes.

"Mh, mh, mh... Now even the descendants of Erich V reappear on the gaming table. In the name of Magic... Rains of disaster and misfortune in a single decade. Tell me at least that Brightroar has not returned to the hands of Lann's descendants." Malora did not respond to the apparent quip from the entity who, in the past, considerably helped House Hightower wrest the sword from enemy hands.

"Before we left, we learned that Lord Tywin Lannister officially invited Helman Tallhart and his heir to the Golden Lions' abode. So within a week at most Bloody Snow will enter into negotiations with the Old Lion..." Malora.

"I see... Well, that's somewhat natural, isn't it? Soon the golden mines will run out, and the Lions are too used to the glitz and beauty.

Lord Tywin will demand a slice of what he thinks is his due." The Great Mother.

"But what if the North were to form an alliance with the descendants of the Greatest Hero of the First Men? Wouldn't it be time to intervene, Mother?" Malora asked.

"Even if such a phenomenon were to occur, alliances come and go, my dear. The Lion, the Wolf, the Stag, the Rose, the Fish and the Sun, sooner or later, will all be at each other's throats to get on the iron seat.

Why do you think the Andals allowed the Sons of Fire to rule over the continent? No empire can last forever, Malora--men will never accept a single ruler to lead them. The desire for power is ingrained in man's nature.

On reflection... perhaps it would also be a good idea to allow the 'Sand Dragons' to live a little longer, don't you think?" So reasoned the Great Mother, smiling.

"Yes, The conflict between House Martell and House Lannister is all but inevitable.

If the crown went into open warfare, we could exploit the Chaos generated to-"

"That's right, my child! Exactly! If wielded well, Chaos is the most powerful of weapons." The Great Mother grasped Malora's face with both hands, giving her caresses and looks of praise.

"And how will we harness Chaos, Malora?"

"By getting our enemies to kill each other." The Mad Maid almost had to hold back tears from emotion.

"Yes, my dear. Yes, correct answer." The Sovereign of the Island.

"But it will take time, mother. The North has grown too much in the last short period -- we cannot afford to wait long." Malora.

"Mmm, you're right... But, first, we should gather as much information as possible and figure out what the North is trying to get out of this upcoming 'Majestic Event'.

Carcosa is not the biggest threat, my dear...

The Titan still serves and will still serve as the perfect shield between the Andals and the Magicians, but these First Men are actually going the extra mile.

How then to restrain them? Any ideas?"

*****

End Chapter.

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