LightReader

Chapter 5 - Chapter 5: The Old Gods Prophecy

Hi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!

etsyshop/BHAGYSMART

Link is in my aboutHi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!

etsyshop/BHAGYSMART

Link is in my about

Maester Luwin's footsteps echoed in the empty stone corridor.

The sound was much more hurried than usual.

The maester's chain on him, those metal rings representing knowledge and reason, now clinked with his steps, making a fragmented and flustered sound.

He had just come out of the cell at the bottom of the tower.

The young deserter's words, like a ghostly whisper, lingered in his mind, refusing to dissipate.

"The Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn, he is dead."

"He was murdered."

"Soon, a raven from King's Landing will bear witness for me."

This was not the rambling of a madman.

Those eyes, that certain tone, that terrible logic that connected all the clues.

The omen of the Direwolf came first.

The conspiracy in King's Landing followed.

Maester Luwin felt a chill from the depths of his being.

This chill even surpassed the ice and snow of the North's winter!

He had to inform Lord Ned of all this immediately.

He crossed the courtyard, the cold wind whipping his grey maester's robe.

The Guards nodded to him, but he had no mind to respond.

He had only one destination.

The Godswood.

Passing through the low, black ironwood door, the outside clamor was instantly cut off.

A damp scent of earth and decaying leaves wafted over.

This was the oldest place in Winterfell.

It was also the foundation of the Old Gods' faith.

Ned Stark stood beneath the Heart Tree.

The massive weirwood, with bark as pale as bone, its blood-red leaves rustling in the breeze.

The strange human face on the trunk, weeping red sap, was like a pair of eternally watching eyes.

Ned did not turn around.

He simply quietly wiped the Valyrian greatsword "Ice" in his hand.

The blade, in the dim light, shimmered with a faint ripple.

"Maester."

Ned's voice was low, blending with the tranquility of the Godswood.

"How is the deserter's health?"

Maester Luwin walked to his side and stopped.

He could hear the faint sound of water flowing over rocks in the nearby hot spring pool.

"He is very weak, but his life is not in danger."

Maester Luwin's voice was a bit dry.

"My Lord, he..."

Maester Luwin paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully.

"He said some more things."

Ned's wiping motion stopped.

He placed the soft cloth for wiping the sword on a nearby stone and turned around.

His grey eyes looked at Maester Luwin.

Those eyes held the stillness and chill of the Northern sky.

"What did he say?"

Maester Luwin took a deep breath.

The cold air in the Godswood pierced his lungs, calming his chaotic thoughts slightly.

"He said the eye of the storm is not in the North."

"But in King's Landing."

Ned's brow furrowed slightly.

Maester Luwin's voice was even lower.

Every word seemed exceptionally heavy.

"He said... the Hand of the King, Lord Jon Arryn, is no longer among the living."

The air seemed to freeze at that moment.

Only the red leaves of the Heart Tree still rustled.

Ned's expression remained unchanged.

He still stood like a silent statue.

But Maester Luwin could feel that the atmosphere around him had changed.

It was a suffocating feeling, like a storm brewing.

"He also said."

Maester Luwin continued with difficulty.

"Lord Arryn did not die of illness, nor of old age."

"It was murder."

The word "murder" was like a stone thrown into a calm pool.

Ned's pupils suddenly contracted.

Jon Arryn.

The man who was like a father to him.

The Defender of the Vale who taught him honor and duty.

The current Hand of the King.

Murdered?

How could that be?

Robert could live a carefree life, eating, drinking, whoring, and neglecting state affairs, all relying on Arryn as the Hand of the King!

"He also said the King would soon head North."

Maester Luwin almost held his breath as he spoke the last, and most crucial, sentence.

"To invite you South, to take over the position of Hand of the King."

"And, if you are not careful, My Lord, you will also die!"

Dead silence.

The Godswood fell into complete dead silence.

Ned Stark did not speak.

He just turned around, looking back at the Heart Tree weeping blood-tears.

His hand unconsciously rested on the hilt of his sword.

"A Night's Watch deserter."

After a long while, Ned's voice sounded again, terribly hoarse.

"How does he know these things?"

"He said it was a warning from the Old Gods," Maester Luwin replied.

"The Old Gods..." Ned chewed on the word.

As a Northerner, he knew the weight of the Old Gods better than anyone.

They were not the statues of the Seven Gods in Southern churches.

They were the whispers in the wind, the leaves in the forest, the flowing streams.

They were the ancient faith etched into the bloodline of every Northerner.

The faith of the Children of the Forest and First Men.

First Men arrived on the continent of Westeros 12,000 years ago.

To resist First Men, the Children of the Forest created the uncontrollable Night King with Ice Magic, so First Men and the Children of the Forest first fought and then made peace, together resisting the Others, and then followed the Children of the Forest in worshipping the Old Gods.

6,000 years later, the Andals arrived on the continent of Westeros.

They successively defeated First Men and the Children of the Forest, driving them North, while they occupied the South.

They worshipped the Seven Gods, meaning one god had seven different forms, hence called the Seven Gods, also known as the New Gods.

Everyone in the South worshipped the Seven Gods, while everyone in the North worshipped the Old Gods.

Regarding faith, Ned, even if he had doubts, had to temporarily reserve judgment.

"The Direwolf too."

Maester Luwin added.

"Antlers piercing the she-wolf's throat, with claw marks of a lion on her body."

"Baratheon, Lannister, Stark."

"All of this is too much of a coincidence, My Lord."

Ned closed his eyes.

In his mind, the stubborn gaze of the young man on the execution platform appeared.

That young man had inextricably bound his life, the safety of the North, and the fate of the Stark family together.

He was not begging for mercy.

He was warning.

"He wants to live."

Ned's voice remained cold.

"To fabricate a sensational story to save his own life."

"Perhaps," Maester Luwin did not retort.

"If this story is true, we cannot bear the consequences."

Ned slowly opened his eyes.

He looked at the sad face of the Heart Tree.

Were the Old Gods truly warning him through the mouth of a deserter?

Or was all this merely the beginning of an even larger conspiracy?

"Have him guarded well."

Ned finally gave the order.

"Give him food and water, ensure he lives."

Ned thought for a moment, then added.

"Don't keep him confined any longer, let him out for some fresh air."

"Yes, My Lord." Maester Luwin bowed in acknowledgment.

"We wait."

Ned's voice carried a trace of unshakeable weariness.

"We wait for the raven from King's Landing."

"If he is wrong, my 'Ice' will correct this error."

"If... he is right."

Ned did not finish.

But the weight contained in those unspoken words made Maester Luwin's heart sink.

If he was right.

Then, Winter Is Coming.

A winter that would sweep across all Seven Kingdoms was about to arrive.

Maester Luwin left.

In the Godswood, only Ned Stark remained.

He reached out and gently touched the pale bark of the Heart Tree.

The cold touch brought a hint of calm to his troubled mind.

"Father."

He whispered softly.

"Brother."

"Please guide me."

The wind blew, the red leaves swayed, as if responding silently... In the tower room.

Lynn leaned against the cold stone wall, listening to his steady heartbeat.

He knew Maester Luwin would relay his words to Ned Stark, word for word.

He also knew what kind of choice Ned Stark would make.

Waiting.

This was the most precious thing he had gained for himself.

The warmth brought by hot soup and bread was repairing his ravaged body.

Strength was returning to his limbs little by little.

In Lynn's vision, the blue panel still floated.

[Host: Lynn]

[Strength: 4 (Unhealthy)]

[Agility: 5 (Normal)]

[Constitution: 4 (Unhealthy)]

[Skills: None]

[Experience: 0]

After resting, Lynn's condition had recovered quite a bit, and he estimated he would be fully recovered tomorrow!

Lynn's gaze, through the narrow window crack, looked out at the grey sky.

By this time, Jon Arryn was long dead.

Now he was waiting for the raven from King's Landing.

Come quickly.

Hi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!

etsyshop/BHAGYSMART

Link is in my aboutHi guys! I use Webnovel to promote my Etsy shop. Sorry if this story isn't very good. In my Etsy shop, you'll find many customized gift products for your loved ones. Please check it out and support us!

etsyshop/BHAGYSMART

Link is in my about

More Chapters