"You want to know a great deal," came a quiet chuckle from the throne. "We will begin our story with the Night's King, for that is the most important thing you must know."
The Elder fell silent, gathering his thoughts.
"Once, long ago, people came to Westeros and began to seize lands that did not belong to them. Our younger brothers, the Children of the Forest, asked us for help. We answered their call and, far to the north, used magic to create the First Other."
I sat in silence, listening intently. The story flowed smoothly and unhurriedly. The Elder still did not open his eyes and seemed completely immersed in the past.
"Almost immediately, we realized that something unexpected had occurred—forces that exist outside this world had managed to penetrate Westeros through our magic and seize the First. That is how the Night's King came to be."
"What forces?" I asked.
"You may call them Chaos, Cold, or Destruction. They are among those forces that simultaneously shape the entire universe and seek to unmake it. Here, in Westeros, this force caught a glimpse of its true potential and now thirsts to grow stronger."
"Why?"
"To change the world according to its own nature."
"And what will this new world be like?"
"Perhaps, in some ways, it will even be better than the current order," the Elder replied calmly. "But there will hardly be any place in it for people—or for anything else."
"Why, then, has this force not manifested itself for centuries, even millennia?"
"It has. But there were always those who stood against it. Westeros was guarded, and remains guarded. For its full manifestation, the proper conditions are required. And the time — now it comes."
"Is Winter somehow connected to this?"
"Yes. Both Winter and Summer are the breath of Westeros itself. Summer is a breath full of strength. But then the warmth fades, and during particularly long Winters, what lies beyond the Wall begins to gain power. And to awaken!"
From the rest of the story, I understood one simple truth—one well known to many. In their attempt to create a new power, the green people were unable to keep it under their control. Their ritual did not unfold as they had planned. And now they were trying to correct their own mistake—and characteristically, through the hands of others.
Yet I myself was striving toward this outcome. So, in the end, everyone here was simply playing their part.
"Come to me, King," the Elder suddenly commanded, opening his eyes.
They were green—deep and wise. Golden sparks, like flecks of living light, flickered in their depths. Those eyes seemed both young and immeasurably old, as though they had witnessed every joy and sorrow this world had ever known.
I rose and took several steps forward. My people at the edge of the clearing stirred uneasily, but I raised my hand to show them that everything was fine.
"Sit by that stone and place your hand upon it," said the Elder.
Only then did I notice, to the left of his throne, a small flat stone protruding from the grass—something resembling an altar.
Stopping before it, I hesitated.
"Do not be afraid," the Elder said quietly. "Long ago, your ancestor Lann the Clever underwent a similar initiation. His blood runs unusually strong in you. You will endure it. You must endure it. The green in your eyes will help you."
I sank back onto my heels, glanced once more at my interlocutor, and placed my right hand upon the altar. At that moment, two women approached and knelt beside me.
"It will hurt, King, for nothing in the universe is given freely," the Elder said impassively. "If you are not ready, or if you doubt yourself, it is better to retreat."
"I will undergo the ritual."
"You have spoken!"
At that instant, the women on either side seized my hand with astonishing strength and pressed it firmly against the altar.
I had time only to feel the pleasant coolness of the stone.
Then the flame appeared—green, like young spring grass. Its tongues leapt upward with a threatening roar, twitching as if alive, and engulfed my arm up to the elbow.
All-consuming pain pierced my body. It felt as though needles were being driven beneath my fingernails, as though my flesh were melting like wax beneath a merciless sun, as though my arm were being flayed while I yet lived…
I convulsed and tried to wrench my arm free. The women would not let me—they held me tighter than steel shackles.
Mind-shattering greenery was born somewhere deep within my eyes. Like a maddened beast, it burst forth from the depths and flooded my consciousness.
The clearing vanished. The women, the altar, the Elder—all were gone. Only greenery remained, filling everything.
The pain throughout my body became utterly unbearable. It twisted and crushed me from within. And I screamed.
Then I realized that it was over. Or perhaps—it was only just beginning.
I found myself in an unknown place. It was as though the entire world had become this greenery, and nothing else existed. It surrounded me on all sides, and I lay within a vast cocoon.
The greenery "bubbled" around me pulsed with flashes, bursts, and flickers.
At times it resembled leaves of a great tree thrashing in a storm. At others, gaps opened within it, and through them I glimpsed human faces.
The Elder appeared first.
"Accept your fate!" he shouted—and vanished once more into the swirling foliage.
(End of Chapter)
P@treon: /SadRaven
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