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42.1% Game of Thrones: The Prophet (COMPLETED) / Chapter 32: Old Blood

Chapter 32: Old Blood

285 AC, Lys, Temple of God…

Gerold was in the meeting room with Raenar, Sargoso and Trios, again. However, there was something different because the faces of the occupants of the room, except Gerold, were full of shock and confusion.

The reason for these shocks and confusions was the head of Gerold. Instead of his shoulder-length hair, his head was bald and despite being in a closed room with just two ornamental glasses, it was shining like the morning sun.

And the silence was broken by none other than the Trios as he was shaking his sides with laughter. He held the table as he did not want to fall.

Gerold did not bat an eye as he coughed into his hand to wake them from their confusion. Indeed, Sargoso and Raenar shook their head, immediately, and tried to steady themselves.

"So why did you shave your head? Damn, I can see the sun from here!!" Trios asked urgently as he wanted to learn before they started the meeting and, of course, he couldn't stop himself from joking.

"This is a promise to myself, I won't let the hair grow on my head until the red demon gets banished from this great world," Gerold answered Trios's question with a face of steel as his mission was affected by the heathens of the red demon so he was having headaches about this matter.

The eyes of Sargoso and Raenar shined with reverence while Trios sniggered outright with mockery in his eyes.

"If the matter of my head is over, I think we should start," said Gerold while sitting on the head chair.

Raenar cleared his throat and began reporting, "I already sent men to recruit from the slums for the army and ordered the purest steel from Qohor. Blacksmiths of Lys have already begun preparing themselves to forge new equipment from those steels. Also, I sent word to Tyrosh to ask half of their blacksmiths as Your Holiness, probably, plans to use Lys for his military operations."

Gerold nodded his head but an angry light took over his eyes, "You have done right so but next time, ask me before doing anything rash." Gerold turned his head towards Sargoso and waited for him to begin talking.

Raenar meekly nodded his head while Sargoso began giving his report, "Your Holiness, as you have ordered the numbers of holy guards to be increased. With your permission, I would like to order the priests to preach about giving their lives for God in holy matters so more people would like to join the holy guards."

Gerold thought for a while and nodded his head, "You have my permission but also tell the priests to preach about evil of the red demon and minions. It would be good to prepare people for the upcoming holy war."

"Yes, Your Holiness," Sargoso answered with great resolution and a glint in his eyes.

"Raenar, did you do the thing I asked of you in the note?" asked Gerold.

"Yes, Your Holiness, if you would like it, I can bring him in?" said Raenar while standing up.

Gerold nodded his head and sipped from the wine glass while waiting and, soon, a man with hair of white and eyes of lilac entered throughout the doors. He was a middle-aged man and his face was shaved and he had sharp cheekbones. His was a like sculpted statue but there was one thing that ruined this statue. It was the twisted sword tattoo on his face. This tattoo was a symbol of him being a slave in the past as all the slaves in the known world were branded to show their role with different tattoos.

The man came beside Gerold and kowtowed to show his respect and loyalty. However, Gerold was surprised because no one kowtowed before him. Even though he was the Prophet, people only bowed their heads in reverence to him.

Gerold looked at Raenar and he helped the man to stand up.

"Your Holiness, this is Aemon Maegyr. He was one of the Old Bloods of Volantis. He will be the one that will tell us about Volantis." said Reanar.

When Gerold heard about Aemon's ancestry, he raised an eyebrow. He was surprised as the Old Blood regarded themselves superior to normal humans and seeing one of them as a slave was, probably, something that never happened before, "If he is Old Blood, why is he branded?"

The man named Aemon shook with rage and clenched his hands upon Gerold's words but still composed himself before speaking with a heavy Volantene accent, "I was captured by pirates on my journey to the Slaver's Bay. I told them I was of the Old Blood but they didn't believe me and sold me as a slave. I fought in the pits of Meeren and won my freedom. However, I didn't go back to Old Volantis, directly, as I met someone close to me on the west side of Volantis, my brother. I heard while he was talking with his friends that he was the one who gave my sea route to pirates and made them ambush me. The plan was to kill me but, instead, the pirates sold me."

Aemon scratched his sword tattoo and continued telling his story, "I went to Old Volantis, directly, to tell my father what happened. However, even after telling him, my father rejected me because of this." Aemon pointed to his ruined sword tattoo, "He said I would shame the family if this is learned by others and then he sliced my face and exiled me without even giving a dragon. In the end, my brother's dreams will come true and he will inherit the family's fortune"

Gerold eyed Aemon from head to foot and nodded his head, "Do you have any relation to Malaquo Maegyr, the one who rules as one of the triarchs and the head of the tigers?"

Aemon rubbed his sword tattoo like it was itching and looked at Gerold's eyes, "Yes, that man was my father."

"Hmm, 'was' you say?" Gerold slanted his eyes and looked at the man who called himself Old Blood.

"Yes, that man is not my father anymore. He and his spawn stole everything from me. However, the reason for me not seeing them as a family is not that. I found my faith in this age and I will not let it go just a small amount of money and power." Aemon's eyes were burning with a determined look.

"Good, then I am sure you would be willing to tell us all you know about Volantis," Gerold spoke with a big and gentle smile on his face.

Aemon bowed his head, "Of course, Your Holiness. Your wish is my command."


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