iron throne of ice and fire

Chapter 630 The Last Green Prophet 2
His good friends, Mela, Osa, Ado...

Just as Bran was about to ask more questions, they arrived—those short women.

At first, he mistook them for little girls, but their voices were those of women, high-pitched and sweet, with a strange rhythm he had never heard before, and a touch of heartbreaking sadness.

They were shorter than Arya, with messy brown, red, and golden hair adorned with withered flowers, and unusually large, clear eyes that resembled those of a cat.

Their skin was spotted like a doe's, and they wore cloaks made of leaves.

Then they said they were children of the forest, the early people called them children, and the giants called them squirrel people because they were small, agile and loved the forest.

A child of the forest told him that "children of the forest" in the original language refers to those who sing praises to the earth, and that they had been singing for tens of thousands of years before the ancient language of our ancestors appeared.

Another child of the forest told him that she was born in the age of dragons and had traveled through the human world for two hundred years.

Later, her legs ached and her heart was tired, so she turned around and went home.

She's over two hundred years old?!

Bran remembers trembling all over as he listened, not only from the cold, but more from astonishment.

He seemed to be witnessing the nanny's bedtime story...

……

The Three-Eyed Raven seemed to be lost in a dream, and the curious Bran couldn't help but whisper, "How many of you are there? I haven't seen any other people."

The child of the forest replied, “The others went deep into the earth, into the rocks and the trees.”

Bran listened with a puzzled look, and she continued, "Before the First Men set foot on this continent that you call Westeros, this was the home of the Children of the Forest, though our population was still small then."

"The Old Gods granted the children of the forest long lives, but not large populations, for they feared we would spread throughout the world like deer filling the forests when there were no predators."

"That was the golden age of the children of the forest; our people were like the rising sun."

"Now, the sun has set, and the children of the forest are gradually dying out, as are the giants. They are dying for the same reason as we are."

Finally, she said sadly, "In this world that belongs to humans, there is no longer any space for us to live."

Bran also felt sorrow, and he couldn't help but feel pity for the children of the forest, who, if they were human, would hate and swear revenge.

But the children of the forest only sing sad songs, not choose to fight and kill.

As Bran was lost in sorrow, Jojen Reed suddenly spoke up coldly: "Are you afraid of the dark?"

Bran blinked, then shook his head. He wanted to say he was scared, but he held back.

Apart from the occasional light from torches, the cave was mostly pitch black, darker than tar and darker than a crow's feather.

There are no sunrises or sunsets here, only emptiness and silence.

Jojan Reed scrutinized him: "You must be brave."

Bran nodded: "Yes, I will."

Jugen Reed's gaze became complicated. He hesitated, then quickly regained his extremely serious expression.

"My name is Ye Zi."

Just as Bran was about to say something more to Jojen, a child of the forest approached: "One in a thousand people are born as an alien, and the Green Prophet is born from among that one in a thousand aliens."

Bran glanced at the three-eyed raven that had become one with the tree roots: "Will I become like 'him'?"

He could not imagine that his body would grow tree roots and that he would be constantly accompanied by endless darkness.

The crippled boy imagined the Three-Eyed Raven as an omnipotent being, an elderly wizard who could heal his legs.

He hated it here; he missed his mother's kisses.

He wants to go home.

But he had to save his father.

He was a brave Stark, but he loved his family even more.

“You will never be able to walk again… but you can fly…” came the old voice of the Three-Eyed Raven. 'He' had finally woken up, and he repeated the promise.

He added, "It's time..."

Bran had thought he would be brave, but suddenly he started to get nervous. He asked, "Uh, what should I do?"

The Three-Eyed Raven seems to enjoy repeating the phrase: "Beyond the Alien, become a true Green Prophet."

Jiujian Lide silently took a step back, while the Forest Child named Leaf stepped forward and said, "The tree will teach you."

As the voice faded, another white-haired child of the forest stepped forward and handed Bran a fish-weir wood bowl with a face carved on it.

Inside the fish weir wood bowl was a thick, heavy mass of white paste, with dark red veins surrounding it.

"You must drink it."

Bran swallowed hard: "What is this?"

"These are seeds of the weirwood tree."

Bran's hands were free again. He took a deep breath and picked up the weirwood bowl. Staring at the unsettling object in the bowl, he hesitated: "If I eat this, will I become the Green Prophet?"

At that moment, the voice of the Three-Eyed Raven slowly drifted over: "It is your talent that makes you a Green Prophet... The weirwood seed can awaken your talent and unite you with the tree."

Bran's hands trembled slightly. Was his body really going to grow tree roots?

Mother……

Father……

Brother, sister, younger sister, younger brother...

Bran closed his eyes, then took another deep breath and picked up the fish weir bowl.

The first bite tastes somewhat bitter.

The second bite seemed to taste slightly better.

On the third bite, it tasted almost sweet.

It tastes like honey, like cheese, like a mother's goodnight kiss.

Bran quickly finished the remaining weirwood seeds, then paused and asked in confusion, "I... why don't I feel any difference?"

"The trees will teach you, green prophets."

As the leaves fell, the children of the forest extinguished their torches one by one, and darkness descended once more.

"Close your eyes..."

The Three-Eyed Raven seemed to whisper in Bran's ear: "Slide your body...like entering an animal's body...you must enter the roots...enter the earth...to the trees on the mountain..."

Following the Three-Eyed Raven's instructions, Bran closed his eyes, relaxed his body, and imagined himself as a tree.

Clang clang—

The empty bowl slipped from Bran's fingers and fell to the ground.

For a moment, he seemed to see the cave where they were and hear the rushing sound of the river.

Then, he instantly arrived in Winterfell. Robb was teaching Arya archery, and his father and mother were watching from a distance. He wasn't crippled...

Sansa is learning embroidery from Sister Mordan...

Jon is teasing Rickon...

The voice of the three-eyed raven suddenly pierced my ears: "What did you see..."

Bran, his eyes closed, had a dry throat, but he forced himself to say, "Winterfell, I saw my family, all of my family, and they are all well."

"You saw what you wanted to see... your heart longed for your home... once... you saw them..."

"What you see are shadows of the past... You are seeing them through the Heart Tree of Winterfell... The concept of time for a tree is different from that for a person..."

"For people... time is like a great river..."

"Trees are different...their roots grow...and they die in the same place..."

"An oak tree is an acorn...an acorns are oak trees..."

"A thousand years for humans is but a moment for weirwood... Through this method... we can see the past..."

Bran suddenly exclaimed, "Robb heard my voice!"

The world spun around, the entire Winterfell began to fade, and finally disappeared completely. Bran was forcibly pulled away by some force.

"He is dead... Do not try to revive him from the dead..."

"Child... what's past is past... we can learn from the past... but we can't change it..."

Bran was already in tears: "Is Robb dead?"

He sniffed: "Can I go see him again?"

The Three-Eyed Raven's voice drifted over slowly: "When you can skillfully use your talent... you will be able to see wherever you want..."

.........

.........

Winterfell, beneath its gates.

Tyrion, with a fawning smile on his face, tiptoed and laboriously raised his right hand upwards.

"Thank you, you're so kind, little lion."

Melisandre, sitting in the saddle, smiled gently at him, took his hand, and lightly jumped off the horse.

Once Melisandre was standing still, Tyrion naturally released her soft, warm hand and smiled slightly: "My lady, it is a great honor for me to serve as your escort."

Melisandre glanced at him briefly with her fiery red eyes, then smiled and said, "I'm honored too."

(End of this chapter)