Chapitre 128: Chapter 127: Unprecedented Change in a Century
"This..."
"This is...the Wrath of the Drowned God!"
Some of the older Ironborn, gazing at the blood-red comet above them, tremble slightly as they point at it, then fall to the ground, prostrating repeatedly.
"This is the punishment from the Drowned God for our failure to restore the old ways!"
The Iron Islands' tumultuous rebellion was thoroughly suppressed in less than a year. The Ironborn were either killed or injured, and with the events still fresh in their minds, they naturally associated the red comet with the 'Wrath of the Drowned God.'
Large groups of Ironborn, hearing these words, fell to their knees in terror, prostrating in the direction of the red comet, hoping to extinguish the Drowned God's anger.
Meanwhile, in Pyke, Balon Greyjoy, who had recently donned and removed a crown, stood in the middle of a bridge, his cheeks looking even more withered and weathered than before.
Listening to the roaring waves beneath him and the reports of his loyal subordinates, he gazed at the red comet above him and remained silent for a moment.
...
At the same time.
People all over Westeros also witnessed the red comet.
In the faraway Castle Black.
Two men of the Night's Watch, clad in black cloaks, unbuckled their belts at the edge of the world and urinated steaming yellow streams towards the lands of Always Winter.
As they prepared to head back, arms around each other's shoulders, they saw the red comet streaking across the sky with a long tail.
"What is that?"
Rustle...
More brothers of the Night's Watch emerged from their rooms in Castle Black, gazing at the blood-red comet in the sky.
Such a marvelous celestial phenomenon was rare, but the usually boastful men found themselves at a loss for words when faced with this simple question.
For astronomy was truly beyond their knowledge.
Jeor Mormont, the 997th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, had a talking raven perched on his shoulder and wore a bear fur cloak. He joined his brothers outside, squinting his weary yellow eyes at the wondrous celestial event.
"Why not call it 'Mormont's Torch'?"
An unknown brother of the Night's Watch started the joke, and all the men in black laughed heartily, understanding the meaning in a second.
"Does old Mormont's torch still work?"
The brothers of the Night's Watch teased, laughing and joking.
"Be careful, or the Lord Commander might unsheathe his 'sword' and scare you to death."
Old Jeor didn't seem to mind the joke, but a hint of helplessness crossed his weathered face. He then waved his hand and scolded them to get lost.
"Go!"
Afterward, the old man looked up again at the red comet streaking overhead.
At first, the marvelous sight was surprising, but after a few glances, it lost its charm.
The old man shook his head and returned to his room.
...
In Oldtown, at the Citadel.
In the silent corridors, hurried footsteps echoed clearly.
Tap tap...
"What?"
"How is this possible?"
...
At the same time, there were hushed whispers, as if discussing something, expressing doubt and disbelief. The swaying figure carrying the lantern gently placed it on the ground.
Clatter...
The wavering figure pulled out a heavy set of keys, inserted them into the massive keyhole, and struggled to turn the nearly rusted lock. At last, with a "click," the lock was finally opened.
Afterward, the figure took a few deep breaths, raised their hand, and creaked open the door. However, they abruptly stopped just as they were about to step inside, standing at the doorway, staring at the scene before them, and gradually opening their mouth in shock.
"What..."
It was clear that the sight before them was utterly surprising. Their shadow was cast on the wall behind them, with one hand covering their mouth, and their beard trembling.
At that moment, another figure hidden in the shadows, not illuminated by the lantern, spoke up.
"It seems like something big is about to happen."
"Let's inform the Archmaester first."
In fact, someone who has achieved a qualified accomplishment in a certain professional field can be called a Maester. If a Maester's knowledge in a certain field is considered "masterly," they will be awarded the corresponding ring, rod, and mask, as well as the title of Archmaester, to recognize their expertise.
Archmaesters are senior members within the Citadel, granted the right to sit in the Conclave. The Conclave is the governing body of the Citadel, and even the Grand Maester who advises the king in King's Landing is elected by them.
Every year, the Conclave of the Citadel elects a Seneschal by drawing lots from among those present, who will manage the affairs of the Citadel.
Now that such a significant event had occurred, it was only natural to inform the current Seneschal of the Citadel, Archmaester Ambrose, who had earned the title of Doctor in the field of medicine and possessed a silver ring, rod, and mask.
The two figures hurriedly closed the door, not forgetting to reinsert the heavy lock before rushing to the Seneschal's quarters.
However, when the two arrived at the Seneschal's room, carrying their lanterns, they found that Archmaester Ambrose was not there, and only after much difficulty did they locate him.
...
At present.
Several members of the Citadel's Conclave had gathered in Archmaester Walin's quarters, who specialized in astronomy. They were observing the sky through a strange mirror, focusing on a red comet with a long tail.
"This is a sword that slays the seasons."
"It heralds the departure of spring and the arrival of summer."
Walin, Archmaester of Astronomy and mentor to Maester Gunther, was explaining something.
However, at this moment, the door was knocked upon.
"Come in."
Subsequently, two middle-aged Maesters entered, bowed slightly, and walked up to the Seneschal. They whispered something in his ear.
"What?"
Archmaester Ambrose, upon hearing their words, was slightly taken aback. He raised his grizzled head, widened his eyes, and hoarsely, incredulously, asked:
"The glass candles are burning again?"
The gathered Archmaesters were analyzing the sudden appearance of the red comet and what omen it might bring.
No one had expected this sudden turn of events. The glass candles had been extinguished for over a century, and no one could light them again.
But now, they had ignited without the need for a flame, seemingly out of thin air.
The other Archmaesters in the room exchanged glances, knowing this was no small matter.
The four glass candles preserved by the Citadel had been brought from Valyria before the Doom, a catastrophe that occurred a thousand years ago. Although not fully confirmed, according to the conjectures of generations of Archmaesters, the glass candles might be closely related to the existence of magic.
"What on earth is going on?"
"This is a change that hasn't happened in a century."
Subsequently, the group of elderly scholars, too preoccupied to pay attention to the red comet overhead, hurried to the room where the glass candles were stored.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone