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208 AC
Kingslanding
Aerion Targaryen
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"You don't seem to understand." I shake my head as I look down at the High Septon as he shakes a bit in suppressed fury.
"What do I not understand... demon." He spits on the Small Councils table which I shake my head at as I slowly walk around the table.
"This is happening, you can't stop me..." He grits his teeth causing his fat cheeks to jiggle a bit all the way down to his hanging chin.
How is he this fat?
Food is pretty healthy all things considered.
He must drink a lot of wine.
"The Seven will protect us from you, your foul kind will perish under the light of their Seven-Pointed Star." I shake my head as I come to a stop and halfway sit on the table beside where he is sitting.
Looking down at him still, I can see the anger and displeasure in his eyes.
He actually believes what he is saying.
Strange.
There are no Seven.
I can confirm as much, even the starved shepherd priest Danny tortured had more 'godly' presence than even the largest statues of the Seven in the Great Sept of Baelor.
I grow more powerful every day as people pray more and more to Me and less to R'hllor.
For a month now I have been able to practically sniff out people of other faiths and their places for worship.
Faith.
I can sense Faith.
There is a tidal wave of Faith in this city.
It surges toward the Great Sept of Baelor.
But not even a drop of it reaches its intended target.
"Your Gods were created by men, they carefully crafted them to have a better hold over the people under their rule." I have already debunked a lot of the myths involving the Seven as well.
The Seven gave the Andals the knowledge to smith iron?
My Daughter in law the Mother Rhoyne showed me that was bullshit herself one night over dinner with the rest of the family.
The Seven guided the Andals away from their flatlands and mountain ranges in Essos?
The Andals fled the Dragon Lords of Valyria and went to the lands where they once found trade with the First Men and stole their castles and lands in the name of their righteous 'Gods'.
One by one I have slowly dug up the truth.
I only lack actually seeing the meeting where the people who came up with the Seven did so.
Maybe it was just one person?
It's possible, dude must have had some crazy Charisma to make it work though.
Hmm.
It could have been done with good intentions.
The core values of the Seven are not all that bad if I am honest.
There is just... to much wiggle room for scumbags to do scumbag things to those less fortunate.
I guess all religions are like that though.
That or the people in power don't actually care about what their God says...
"Lies." I shake off the rapid-fire thoughts only a moment after having spoken when the High Septon stands with a surprising amount of speed knocking back his chair. "You will not succeed." He practically growls as he juts out a sausage link finger at my chest.
"I already have." I calmly reply. "I brought you here out of respect, I needed not to even give you any, instead I could have just burned down the Sept on top of your head as Maegor the Cruel once did." I shake my head as memories of that day flash before my eyes.
It was quite something to watch with my own eyes.
Balerion doing Balerion things is always a sight to see.
A living and fire-breathing legend at one point, now he is a mythical figure of House Targaryen.
A figure that I want to see as flesh and blood again... as Fire and Blood.
"You would only prove you are a Demon by doing such." The Septon taunts while shaking his head.
"I know." I nod.
His eyes widen a bit.
"You know?" I nod back at him with a slightly wry smile.
"You brought in the sick and old as meat shields... hostages against me." His eyes widen even more and I look toward one of the open windows that shows the Great Sept in the distance.
Moonfyre circles overheard, something the Septon only now is noticing.
His fat chin wobbles a bit as his lips open and close.
"I am forging this world and all of its people into one Empire." His head turns to me as if he wants to look at me but his eyes can't tear away from the sight of Moonfyre circling the Sept. "I am willing to do anything to see my goal completed." His eyes break off from the Sept and settle on me with his pupils shrunk slightly.
"A-Anything?" I nod and he gulps.
"Anything." I set a hand upon his shoulder and squeeze it, not with all of my strength as that would turn the bone into a powder, but enough to hold him in place. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be." His face grimaces and I smile at him.
What he doesn't know is that Sept is safe for now.
I am having my Brother summon all of the Lords of Westeros to Harrenhal.
There I will tell them the truth.
I am their God, if they have a problem with that then they can fight me over it... all at once if that pleases them.
This gathering will be the true beginning of my faith spread in Westeros.
I will try to take a gentle approach.
I will show dreams of a better future.
My Priests will heal and treat the sick all over the continent.
Those who show a strong displeasure will have a chance to debate with me or even challenge me. But without a doubt... Westeros just like Essos will have only one Religion by the time I am done with it.
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208 AC
Old Town
Gerold Hightower
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"This is..." I shake my head as I read over the 'invitation' to Harrenhal where a gathering of the Lords will be held.
"The Demon is making his move, we knew he would once word reached us from Volantis." I nod remembering what I learned months ago.
A Prince jumped into flames that burned hundreds of living people like wood and he emerged unburnt.
They call him a God.
"What will we do?" I can't help but feel a deep disgust at knowing the King is going along with his Demonic Brother.
They should have all died during the Dance.
Those Dragons came up from the grave inside of the cradle of the very Demon now claiming to be a God.
It is all starting to make sense.
A foulness is upon our lands... a creeping darkness that will swallow us all if not dealt with.
"We will do nothing." My Brother, the Lord of the Hightower snorts and turns his nose up.
"Nothing?" I shake my head and lean forward. "The King has sent this invitation." My Brother looks unbothered and I get a bad feeling in my gut.
"Conspiring with the Demon will do us no good... we need to consult with the Gods... we must pray for guidance." His look turns far off and an odd gleam shimmers in the dark brown depths.
"Prayer is how you plan to deal with the Seven Kingdoms falling into the hands of an abomination?" His eyes sharpen and glare at me.
"The Seven Kingdoms have been ruled by abominations for the past two hundred years." He growls out and I slump back into my chair.
He speaks of the Targaryens as a whole.
Does he forget our own family carries their blood thanks to Rhaena Targaryen?
Something is wrong... he is acting strange.
This news is disturbing.
But not enough for him to act out like this.
"Are you unwell?" I ask while keeping my voice even and calm.
"I am as hale and strong as any other day." His gaze shifts to the door and he juts out his chin silently dismissing me.
Something is wrong.
Standing my armor clinks as I make my way around the low table and head toward the door without a word.
But as I push it open I hazard a glance back to see him glaring hatefully out the window.
Something is going on with him.
I need to get to the bottom of it.
Soon.
Thanks for reading!!!
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208 AC
Harrenhal
Aerion Targaryen
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"I am not sure if I am laying it on thick or just enough..." I mutter as I sit at the Head of the High table in the Hall of a hundred hearths.
"No one is glaring at us anymore." Mya mutters back as she enjoys her favorite foods she has been missing since we left Harrenhal.
"I have noticed, but even after meeting some of the Lords in private I still am unsure how this will turn out." I would hate to have to fly around Westeros on Moonfyre and burn down each sept manually.
It would be far simpler and less wasteful for the Lords to manage the Septs in their holdings and start the conversion themselves. They can have the Seven rooted out and replaced with my own faith icons and teachings. It will take generations before a full shift is noticeable, I fully expect people to still pray to their old Gods in their own homes and whatnot.
But the process will be started.
I don't want to have to light half of the continent on fire to make it so... but I will do what I must.
"Hmm." Squinting my eyes I let my thoughts wander. "I hope the meeting with the 'Old Gods' goes well..." I know the Old Gods of the North are at least 'real', but it's hard to tell what state they are in.
They don't even have names.
What I have come to learn is the more people believe in something the stronger it is.
How can the Old Gods be strong if their names are not even known?
They are likely wisps clinging on to the world.
Subtly glancing to the side at Mya as she munches on a Jam stuffed pastry she raises a milk chocolate brown brow at me. I smile as she looks at me in utter confusion, my thoughts shift between trying to make her the new 'Old God' and how goofy she looks with blueberry jam smeared on her lips.
"You are beautiful." She purses her purple-stained lips and then raises her chin a bit in a 'haughty' fashion.
"Of course." She responds with a clear and confident voice before her lips tremble a bit and she soon lowers her head chuckling a bit.
Goofball.
"Are you pestering Mya?" Daenerys asks from my other side and I shake my head and block Mya with my body as she attempts to nod at Danny's question.
"I am doing no such thing." Danny hums thoughtfully before turning to focus back on her own meal.
Seems everyone was missing the cooks in Harrenhal.
Hmm.
It's probably about time I renamed this castle.
Looking around I can't even picture the way it looked when I first arrived.
Sure I could check it out in the flames or a dream.
But I like the way it is now and I don't want to remember the way it was when I first received this place.
A new name would be fitting, especially with the plans I have for this place.
It's pretty much the center of Westeros and has the Gods Eye that has a river leading out into Black Water Bay.
Its perfect for a center of power on this continent, it always was.
Maybe the Gods Eye could have something built upon it once I deal with the Old Gods?
That might could be better, but that would be a more private family housing, unlike this castle where we will meet people and hold events.
It would look odd for me to host events as a 'God' in a castle named after an Iron Born Tyrant.
No.
This place needs a new name fitting the purpose it will one day serve.
I might would call it 'Dragons Nest' after having raised my own children here... but that name has been used up North.
"Hmm." Thoughtfully I hum as I look down at the large hall before me with a vast majority of Westeros Lords and Ladies sitting around enjoying their morning meal.
I will think about it.
It will be important in the future so I should not rush it.
My gaze shifts over the Lords from the Reach and I can't help but frown.
"Still no news from the HighTowers?" I ask Gwenys and she obviously knows as she leans forward and Mya leans back to let her speak directly toward me.
A small baby dragon chirps from her shoulder as it is jostled around by the sudden movement. The sight of the next generation of dragons brings a smile to my face as Gwenys soothes the chirping hatchling absent-mindedly.
"Nothing has come in, their ravens are either not reaching us or they are intentionally ignoring this gathering and all of the inquiries I have sent." I nod at her words as she leans back while turning her attention to her hatchling that is trying to climb her hair.
"Not good." I frown as I look down at the table before me.
"Will you fly over?" Danny asks and I slowly nod.
"I have to, the Lords gathered here obviously can see the HighTowers are not here... it makes us look bad if we do nothing about their refusal." I sigh and shake my head.
Oldtown has the largest population in Westeros.
Kingslanding is not far behind and here at Harrenhal the town outside is rapidly growing and is closing in on half a million people.
It would be a pity if that city had to burn.
"Maybe I can just melt down the tower and burn there Sept?" I do not need to burn the masses that may not even know what is going on, in this instance at least.
I can make an example of those causing problems and then have word spread among the people of the city.
They will be shocked most likely.
Maybe a bit angered?
But they will move on with life and go where their interests are.
Which is living.
The masses main concern is life itself.
They want to live.
Which they will, they will live in the world I will build for everyone.
One Empire.
One language.
One Religion.
One people.
Unity.
Harmony like never before seen.
Peace from now to the end of days.
There is still a lot of work to be done, mountains of work in fact.
But I can almost see the finish line.
I just need to get there... even if it means I have to drag everyone kicking and screaming.
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208 AC
Old Town
Gerold Hightower
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"Ah... you are awake." I blink open my eyes and find I am in a dark stone room with a few torches scattered about on wall mounts.
"Brother?" I ask with a hoarse voice as I spot my Brother standing on the other side of the room in a strange outfit.
There are other people... each in cloaks or hoods.
Red.
Their outfits are Red.
Stained.
A stench hits my nose and causes me to dry heave as I realizes what it is when memories surface in my mind.
Rot and Decay.
Blood and Gore.
The first and last time I smelled this was at a port city that had been raided by Iron Born.
"Brother?!" I try and stand up and find I am hanging from chains on the stone wall.
"You should have just kept your head down." He shakes his head at me and gestures for one of the hooded men to bring him something. "Everything is going according to plan... if only you did not try and find the truth... you could have lived." I gulp as he is handed a large knife made of twisted metal that looks to have been ground to an edge against a rock.
What in the Seven Hells is going on?!
"What are you doing!?" My Brother approaches me with the wicked blade, an odd look in his haunted features.
"We can't expect the Gods to do all the work... we must do our part as well... if we want them to bring salvation..." I try and jerk my arms down from the iron cuffs and the metal bites into my flesh as I do.
My panic does not seem to bother my Kin as he drags the nails of his fingers across the blade. He comes to a stop before me and looks at me with pity but also a bit of joy that flickers in his eyes.
I have never seen him like this.
This is madness.
"Know that your death will weigh on me... but will bring about salvation for all of Westeros... for all of the world." He raises the blade and I trash against my restraints.
But to no avail.
The evil blade is brought down and sinks into my chest with ease.
Pain.
Pain like I have never before felt.
But strangely enough.
It is numbed out quickly.
Instead of opening my mouth to scream.
I shut my eyes.
Tired... I have never been... this tired...
"Dream well Brother... we will all soon join you... and him..." My brother's words echo in my mind as everything turns to black.
Color fades as wisps of black spring up from nowhere and slowly wrap around everything I know.
The rancid smell in my nose turns instead into a salty scent of the Sea.
Darkness.
Thanks for reading!!!