Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 268: Scenes from the Past

266. Scenes from the Old Days
Moqorro followed the Duke into a side room of the Hall of Hundred Hearths. The walls were very old, and one could even see murals from the time of Harren the Black. The crossed silver chains were broken, and most of the four-part pattern on the base had peeled off. Only the black paint of the longship had not completely disappeared. Moqorro remembered that this longship symbolized the Iron Islands.

He looked around a few more times. Although this place was old, it must have been renovated by the craftsmen under Duke Attis. The ritual vessels, displayed flowers and decorations were all new and must be of great value.

The Duke dismissed his personal guard and looked at the only small window in the side room, which could peek outside through the dense lattices.

"If Evan Arryn is given some time, perhaps Harrenhal will also have tunnels and secret rooms as interconnected as those in King's Landing," said Artis.

Judging from the Duke's tone, there seemed to be some sarcasm in his voice.

"Where is the woman in red?" asked the Duke.

Moqorro did not want to delay things, so he replied: "We were trapped in a fog before we landed on the Thousand Faces Island. It was a strange fog, with faces everywhere, including faces on the fish beams. Melisandre and I wanted to pray to the Lord to light a fire, but..."

A few beads of sweat trickled down his asphalt-colored forehead, and he seemed to still feel a chill in his head as he recalled the scene at that time.

"But the crows that came out of nowhere, a black mass of crows, used their wings to put out my lord's flames," said Moqorro. "Melisandre seemed to be struggling to fight against this force, but it was impossible for the two of us to continue. She seemed to have a... I don't know how to explain it. I can only say that before encountering the fog and the crows, Melisandre's connection with my lord was strong, and the temperature of her body was almost a manifestation of my lord's will, but..."

"This connection has been taken away." Before Maqiro finished speaking, his mouth suddenly opened slightly, and the black pupils that occupied most of his eye sockets were suddenly replaced by whites that rolled up.

Attis was slightly stunned. He walked forward and reached out his hand to touch the red-robed monk. "Maqi Luo"

The moment his fingers touched Maqiro, the sound of a crow's wings flapping filled his ears. Attis turned his head slightly and saw a crow standing on the candlestick in the house. The fire on the candle went out quietly, leaving only a cloud of smoke.

Its scarlet eyes met Attis's eyes, but unlike ordinary ravens, this crow had a small eyeball rolling on its forehead, as if scanning Attis and the surrounding environment.

The smoke swirled, stretching out white arms in all directions, with branches entwined around the outstretched arms. Attis saw a tree with a human face with tears of blood carved into it like a knife. It was a weirwood.

Attis stroked his sword. He was used to this kind of trick. The Red God, the crows in front of him, and even the weirwood seemed to be more willing to play tricks on people's minds.

The three-eyed raven soared into the sky and flew over the weirwood trees. Attis looked in the direction it was flying.

The deep woods and green pond are surrounded by several twisted and thick ancient trees, with towering branches and tops that stretch as far as the eye can see.

Dozens of short humanoid creatures appeared at one end of the pond, with vigilance in their eyes, their hands tightly grasping spears and daggers made of unknown materials. Their dark skin was hidden by skirts woven from leaves, and their lively eyes were embedded in their beautiful faces.

Wild beasts, crows, and various birds of prey hidden in the bushes, some of which could not even be identified as what kind, stood by the dwarf humans like guardians.

Son of the forest? Such words flashed through Attis' mind.

When he looked closer, he saw several humans standing by the pond, with bronze swords that were very eye-catching.

The leader of the Children of the Forest stepped on the water and pointed at the pool. Attis realized that it was not a pool, but a huge map. He frowned and looked at the outline.

This is clearly a map of Westeros.

"The forest and the weirwood," the child of the forest said a few words.

Attis frowned. It was not a common language, but he could hear it so clearly.

Bronze weapons, he looked at humans again. It was the ancient language of the ancestors.

"Coasts, prairies, mountains, swamps," said the ancients.

Attis understood that this was an oath, an oath signed by the Children of the Forest and the ancestors after years of war, and the location was on the Thousand Faces Island.

The oath stated that the vast forests in Westeros belonged to the Children of the Forest, and the coasts, grasslands, plains and even swamps and mountains belonged to the ancestors of the outsiders. They vowed not to cut down weirwoods anymore, and even later changed their previous religions and beliefs to believe in the natural gods worshipped by the Children of the Forest.

Suddenly, the three-eyed crow flapped its wings a few times, and the smoke was dispersed, turning into countless flying snowflakes in the sky.

Scenes appeared in Attis's eyes, the Great Wall, the White Walkers, the Children of the Forest and the First Men shared the same hatred for the enemy.
Deep in the forest, the weirwoods wept blood. Rows of humans knelt, their chests pierced by daggers and spears, and their blood flowed on the roots of the weirwoods. The weeping of the children of the forest shook the ground. The infants were placed in cages woven with garlands and hung on the branches of the weirwoods. The blood that flowed down was the blood of the infants, the infants of the children of the forest.

The scene changes to show broken reefs, deserts, plains, and castles sinking to the bottom of the sea. One by one, the ancestors are squeezed by the swirling sea water, their flesh and blood are mutilated, and they sink to the bottom in despair.

In a trance, Artis pulled away from his thoughts, and Maqiro was panting, his face covered with sweat.

"The Children of the Forest, the Children of the Forest, ahem!" said Moqorro. "The Children of the Forest have taken Melisandre away. They wish to negotiate with you, my lord! They wish to negotiate with you!"

The smoke cleared, and Artis' attention was focused on where the Three-Eyed Raven had been before.

A black feather.

Moqorro stepped forward and said, "The Child of the Forest left it to me as a gift for you. Why is it here?"

Artis swallowed dryly. He was confident that he could not lose to anyone in Westeros in battlefield games and court contests, but he had no means to deal with these scenes, the so-called Children of the Forest, the Old God and the Red God, as well as the goblins and White Walkers outside the Wall.

Dragon. He thought of the azure dragon egg that had been placed in the furnace hanging on the ceiling of the Hall of Hundred Furnaces.

The magic that the crow had just presented to him was probably the dark magic "Hammer of Seawater" that the Children of the Forest used to break Dorne's arm thousands of years ago. He had read relevant records, some saying that it was to sacrifice a thousand human captives to the weirwood, and some saying that it was to use the blood of the children of the forest for the sacrifice.
Now it seems like it's both.

Suddenly realizing something, Attis felt frightened and shuddered at the chill.

High tide on the Trident River.
He looked at Moqorro. "I will go to the island, like the First Men did."

This is an adventure, someone in Attis's heart whispered.

You are in a powerful position, just one step away from the Iron Throne, so there is no need to take risks.

The White Walkers might just be a lie, and the image that just appeared might just be a trick of the liar.
Attis shook his head. "It's settled." He said firmly.

The sequence of scenes just now: the oath, the fight against the long night, and the destruction of the Wall of Dorne.
The former is the purpose, the latter is the strength and also the bargaining chip.

Logic returned to human diplomacy, and Attis calmed down. This did not violate his cognition and common sense, and it was still a game on the card table.

I hope so, he sighed inwardly.

(End of this chapter)