Chapter 77

(???, ???)

It was the second time he felt a disturbance.

Another divine had fallen? Or not? There was a tentative hold they still held as if they existed and yet not at the same time. Even the self-proclaimed great rival had met the same end.

He needed only to reach outwards to realize that the drowned one had left. Abandoning these ancient lands for different pastures.

Deity's weakened day by day, unable to stand the test of time, unlike him. 

To him, this proved that he was destined to bring forth his judgment upon this world, a world undeserving of life or fortune. Otherwise, why would so many influential gods fall so fast, one after the other?

Boundless joy filled at the extinguishing of the flame god, one whose very existence disgusted him to his core.

A broken slave, who only managed to escape their master's hold due to sheer dumb luck. Still, there was a wariness etched in his bones. Demanding caution and steadiness at what lies south of his ancestor's creation.

Yet, the unknown threat also excited him to a degree, to think there still existed something or someone so powerful long after the days of old. It would make defeating them and plundering their power for his own all the more satisfying.

His harsher half begged to let loose as these chains would soon fail altogether. No one was capable of stopping him. When that finally happens he will take great pleasure in bringing down the false dragon and then, whatever lies south will be unable to pose a threat to him.

With but a thought, several of his walkers awoke.

"FiND MooREeee SAcRifcEs, InCReaSee RAnKs!" He would need far more men, his intuition practically demanding it.

As a proud son of winter, he would not, could not foolishly ignore it. At his command, the awoken warriors escaped with an inhumane grace, rushing to do as commanded.

There was satisfaction in his eyes, there would be a reckoning to be paid. Whether his enemies were ready or not, was of no concern.

Winter is Coming!

…

(Brynden 'Bloodraven', ???)

In a way, he should be frightened by the recent events.

The Mudd child had managed to ascend to divinity, defeating divinity after divinity, as if fate itself decreed him its champion and the harbinger of change.

Neither the horse god nor the lord of light had managed to snuff out the bright son despite everything they had done. Their failure was a reminder of how dangerous a foe he had made himself.

An unnerving thought to be had, but not one that frightened him.

Sure, there was some regret to be had. The Targaryen bastard had hoped to break away using the child's body, escaping his imprisonment and sweeping through the continent once more. Stepping on the legacy of his failed kin and spreading his name all over.

Unfortunately, that was not the case, failure seemingly haunting his every step.

Brynden understood full well that the game was well and truly lost, he had no delusions he could defeat a god. It didn't help that he was now blind to the happenings of the South. None of his pets survived the trip, with Mudd being quite thorough in his purge.

It was a shame that Euron had failed, that boy once showed great promise. Only to lose his mind in the process, bringing out the worst in him.

Just as they had done with his failure of an apprentice, the trees no longer welcomed his presence, the ancient ones choosing to bow down to the upstart heathen rather than break. 

As they did with the Seven, they would do so with this newly arisen deity. Their precious song went with the child that should have been.

He would have loved to have seen his kin's reaction to that particular revelation. Knowing that it was the old gods and not the valyrian ones that brought them those dire warnings. Brynden scoffed at their naivete, was it a wonder they lost their dragons when they couldn't see through such an obvious ploy?

Mere tools for the gods who got ahead of themselves and let their pride rule them.

Speaking of the old gods, he sneered in disgust at their cowardice, was it a wonder their worshippers failed to keep the Andali at bay? Then again, what could one expect from the gods worshipped by these treacherous creatures below him?

Weakness practically reeking from their roots.

They would never stand up for their followers, only when it was their existence in danger would they take action. It was a man after all who pushed back the great enemy, not a god.

He did not doubt that Rhoynar would have put up a better fight. At least those ambitious water snakes had some spine in them.

Gazing at the filthy creatures with a knowing smirk, Brynden could not help but laugh out loud, ugly as it sounded. A nature deity, a god of the very land they walked on would never accept their blasphemous deeds. Their fate was sealed, and he would perish happily knowing that they wrought this onto themselves, keeping him away from death's embrace for their owl selfish righteousnesses.

Some glared at him, not knowing his thoughts but feeling his undisguised malice.

Brynden was a broken shell of a man, but even a shattered glass could harm the unattentive fool. He swore when he was first trapped in this wretched tree that he would have his vengeance, even at the cost of himself.

Now it appeared that he had the opportunity. Failure meant nothing, as far as he was concerned it was just adding a few more steps to an assured path.

While he would not be the one to bring down the sentence on them, it was his hand that helped push, even if he was unaware of what would transpire in the future.

'Enjoy what little time you have children of the forest, because you have oh so little time remaining.'

…

(Erlend Mudd, Firmridge)

While he'd loved to have shown the two sealed deities to Malora, Erlend decided to be more cautious with how he handled them.

It would not do to accidentally unleash these two in his home. Naturally, he could handle them, especially with his living flame, but no use giving himself more of a headache than he already had.

Carefully placing them in the hastily prepared storage, Erlend began carving out runes, isolating the area from all. Several wards and enchantments quickly followed suit as he meticulously did his job, as many runes appeared around him and imprinted themselves upon the walls.

He could feel Firmridge watching him curiously but didn't think much of it.

Her being involved with sealing would massively boost the safety precautions even if he isolated the area. Like Hogwarts, the living stronghold was fully capable of hiding specific rooms or chambers from the eyes of its inhabitants.

It would only do him more good if he added even more protections, no matter how weak they appeared in front of him, these two were still gods, their strength way beyond anything mortals could face.

A grown and mature Edmund might have a chance, but only by borrowing his power, and even then it would take its toll on his son.

Once done with the protections, Erlend softly incanted the famed spell. "Expecto Patronum"

While he didn't need to say it out loud, the giddiness he felt when he used this spell encouraged him to do so, if only for nostalgia's sake.

A thin wisp of green detached from his body, hovering like mist before him, beginning to take shape and appearing as a familiar creature. Her serpentine body moved with a grace that betrayed her size, staring at him with curiosity, awaiting instruction.

"Inform Melisandre that she is to take charge of cleaning up the Red Temple's remnant. Leave no fanatic alive and destroy everything that even so much as mentions the fire god."

Nodding her head in acknowledgment and with a surprising amount of sentience, the spirit swiftly escaped the room to carry his orders.

Watching the spirit form of his eldest child, Erlend knew that his patronus was far from the norm. While other corporeal patronuses showed some form of sentience, it wasn't to the point of being considered truly living. As a god, especially one so connected to life, he could faintly make out the beginnings of true life within his own.

Something that his children's guardians distinctly lacked. This could only be attributed to the influence of his divine power, as before ascending, his spirit guardian was much the same as the others.

That and her color had changed from the expected blue, so there was also that to look into.

Ah, yes the final protection, "Firmridge, would you be a dear and make sure that no one, not even my heirs can access this room?" He asked his youngest child.

In response to his request, the room glowed briefly and emotions of agreement and assurance could be made out.

Erlend nodded in satisfaction, sending the stronghold a gentle pat on its metaphorical head. It was always such a delight to interact with his latest magical child.

…

"How strong are you?" Was the first thing that greeted him upon stepping into his solar. 

Edmund looked at his father curiously, waiting for a sufficient response to his immediate question.

"Strong enough that you don't have to worry much about the popsicle in the north if that's what you're worried about." Erlend ruffled his eldest's hair in the process of answering. "You've done quite well for yourself." He praised his son.

Edmund pouted at the latter part of his answer, "I don't appreciate being saddled with so much work, Dad. At least give me a heads up before you do this again." His son complained.

Erlend shook his head, poor Ed. He'd have to get used to this real quick. As a responsible monarch, how could he possibly deny his heir the opportunity to prepare himself for when he eventually took the crown?

While the young prince didn't know what exactly his father was thinking, he suspected it was something stupid, so he did not hesitate to conjure a fireball and chuck it at his father. Knowing full well it wouldn't leave a scratch on his old man.

Erlend stared dryly at the boy, "You know, I liked this tunic." He said.

"Just have another one made." The young prince didn't care, a ruined tunic was a fair trade in his opinion.

Shaking his head at the unreasonableness of his son, Erlend sat casually on the decorative couch within his solar, his son staring at him with judging eyes for slacking off, once again.

"I should have this removed, I'm pretty sure you won't like to know what it was used for previously." Erlend jested casually.

"Dad… too much, way too much information."

It did the job though, the awkwardness steering the two away from the previous topic much to Erlend's relief.

"Cella has been throwing several tantrums lately, she found out that the Lannisters want to wed their heir to her," Edmund said seriously.

'For fucks sake.' Was the primary thought going on Erlend's head, he just jumped from one landmine to another.

"How bad is it?" Erlend asked tentatively.

"You're going to have to find out for yourself, old man. Serves you right for saddling me with all this work." The smug expression on Edmund's face was quite telling.

His lips twitched at his son's victorious smirk 'This little shit. He's just like me.' Erlend thought proudly, with a hint of despair.

It almost made him feel bad for unleashing another person just like into this world.

The key word being almost.

…

(Malora Hightower)

With Erlend back, things had finally calmed down.

With the pranks and mischief finally subsiding. Coaxing that fierce cub of his was no easy task, but her lover did eventually manage to do so after promising to create a few unique spells that personally suited Myrcella.

Now Malora was no schemer, but you didn't need to be one to know that the little lioness had fooled everyone. The girl was smart enough to realize that she'd have to get married to someone in the future and she could do a lot worse than someone like Tytos, who was but a mere baby at the moment.

Thankfully he hadn't inherited his father's stature, otherwise, the brat was likely to fall off a cliff before he could even step into their marriage bed when they were of age.

Controlling him would be an easy task for the older girl who wielded an impressive talent for the mind arts as Erlend had mentioned, and there wasn't anything the Lannisters could do about it.

Shaking her head, she wondered how the dwarven lord would feel if he knew he'd effectively thrown his son into a pit he had no hope of digging his way out of. Myrcella had all of Cersei's viciousness, but unlike her mother was intelligent enough to know how to put it to good use.

If they didn't know just how the three siblings cared for each other and how strong their bond was, Malora would have worried for Edmund and Jasper. She had to admire the sly girl, who reminded her greatly of her younger sister Alerie. 

The two were like two peas in a pod.

Mace might think he wore the breaches in that marriage, but like his mother, he had underestimated her sister, even the oaf's mistress was one of her sister's spies, and wasn't that something to think about?

Most ladies would be happy if their lord husbands could keep it in their pants, her sister on the other hand sent her husband his mistress practically gift-wrapped.

How scandalous!

Wiping the blood off her hands, Malora noted down her latest findings. The gift her lover had sent truly made her feel appreciated.

Say what you will about the Blackfyres but they were still Valyrian and their blood contained unique properties that were no doubt a result of their ancestors' bond with dragons.

It was nothing like Erlend's blood, but it by far held the highest count of magical properties, even when compared to the ancient blood of the first men.

Only Visenya's blood could be said to be superior, and that was mainly due to her unique circumstances. Naturally, she suspected her beloved first woman's true circumstances but dared not rock the boat.

Getting that woman's blood was harder than expected, it had taken a lot of favors and personally handing over the results of her hard-earned research till the dragon queen felt like giving it to her, and even then she had managed to extort from her a significant chunk of Erlend's time.

As a woman driven by research and experiments, Malora knew some sacrifices had to be made, but losing time with her beloved infuriated her beyond measure. If that lunatic hadn't frightened her, Malora would have had some choice words to say to her face.

Adding some ground dragon bone to the blood, Malora observed any reaction the blood would have to it and gave a reaction it did. The dragon bone seemed to be far too potent for the blood to handle, as many of the magical properties began to lose their luster when coming into contact with the grounded bone, which interestingly enough began to absorb those properties.

It was fascinating to see the exact opposite reaction of what had occurred with Visenya's blood. Erlend's blood on the other hand had outright rejected the intrusive component.

Noting this discovery down, Malora moved over to the Visenya's sample and found that the absorption was still in process, with little changing aside from the blood turning to a lighter shade.

Later, she planned to add some Blackstone powder onto the samples, at least once Visenya's blood completed its integration. Would it directly start attacking the cells due to the magic contained within them?

The infamous lady of Hightower was well aware of its restraining properties on magic, she just needed to make sure after all. Perhaps they could weaponize the Blackstone dust against the numerous sorcerers that were no doubt hostile to the Crown. So far its current usage was in the form of chains or collars that rendered their magic null.

Useful but greatly limited.

If she could make a weapon that could neutralize them upon contact, even if they somehow managed to catch them by surprise and got close enough, the children would be able to protect themselves by making use of this substance.

It didn't matter if it came in the form of powder or a dagger, as long as it saved their lives. Malora knew she was onto something, enough that none of the other women would be able to interrupt her time with her beloved.

Hmm… She could imagine the pleasant days to come.

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Note: To be frank, each person has their perspective of what exactly happened/is happening. So Bloodraven isn't fully correct in his assumption of the old gods, nor is he truly mistaken. No, he isn't aware of an ascendant's weakening, that is deliberately being kept in the dark by the existing pantheons.