Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 308 Prophecy and Ritual

Myrcella carefully dropped the mutton at the dragon's feet, and with her hands on her cheeks, she watched the dragon devour the lamb with a vigilant look on her face.

"It's very docile," Attis stood behind her, squatted down, hugged Myrcella, and put his face against her slightly cold cheek, "as long as it is well fed and watered."

"It?" Myrcella observed carefully. "I thought a dragon could be male or female."

Attis did not know much about dragons, although he had read all the books about dragons in the Eyrie, unfortunately there were too many statements and many of them were rumors. Later, he asked Komon about the knowledge of dragons, but the latter also expressed helplessness. After all, he did not have the Valyrian necklace of mysticism certified by the Citadel.

Tyrion was the person he knew who was most interested in dragons, but they had never discussed this. Besides, Tyrion was at that time traveling west from the Lion Gate in King's Landing to Casterly Rock with the Kingslayer, who was supposed to serve at the Wall. After Casterly Rock accepted the oath of allegiance sworn by the lord of the westerlands, he insisted on sending Jaime to the Wall himself.

Tyrion is well aware of the situation he may encounter in the Westerlands, but Artis does not intend to provide much help. Kevan Lannister and Jaime Lannister both have clear attitudes. Obviously, people who know the times will not choose to go against the appointment of King's Landing during the reign of Arryn.

"Perhaps the one that can lay dragon eggs is the female dragon, and the one that cannot lay dragon eggs is the male dragon." After thinking for a moment, Attis replied.

"That's a very accurate judgment, Prime Minister." Dr. Marwyn walked over from the side of the dragon, his eyes always on the dragon. He bowed to the Duke and then reluctantly looked away, smiling at the Duke. "But I am more willing to believe what Brother Bath said."

"What's that?" Myrcella was obviously more interested and asked directly.

Marwyn rubbed his hands and said, "As you wish, Princess." He walked up to the blue dragon and pulled out the scales on its head. Attis noticed that Marwyn's palms were a dull gray, like the bubbling and wrinkled mud on its neck. He felt no pain when scratched by the hard scales, and his skin was unscathed.

"Brother Bath believes that dragons have no gender distinction. As for whether or not dragon eggs are laid to determine the gender of a dragon, it is indeed a convenient method, but it is limited to this. It is just like my dear colleague in the Citadel, the group of gray sheep insisted on dividing the winged insects in Dorne into winged and wingless ones to distinguish the latest discoveries. Tsk tsk, I didn't expect that the maester who made such a judgment just happened to see a group of winged insects with broken wings in a cave somewhere in Dorne and made a rash judgment. Little did he know that the reason these insects were like this was just because of the cruel act of a Dornish child. After hearing about this wonderful experience of this colleague, I could only write to him to inform him that this discovery is the greatest discovery in the past hundred years."

Marwyn pointed out the absurdity of his colleagues in the Citadel with sarcasm. Seeing Myrcella's eyes full of curiosity, he coughed a few times and said, "The gender of a dragon is not fluid, nor is it the common binary gender. It has no gender. As for whether it can lay dragon eggs, I prefer to say that it is just... uh, according to the dragon's will."

"The dragon's will?"

"Yes, well..." Dr. Marwyn glanced at the blue dragon again. "Son Bath wrote about his research process in detail in the book. He compared many dragons and combined it with the notes left by some careless Targaryen royals, including the diary records of dragon servants who have been with dragons for a longer time. Whether a dragon lays eggs depends on many conditions. The known conditions... First of all, of course, is the character of the dragon. Ahem, some dragons are aloof and will never lay dragon eggs. Some dragons are eager for riders. If there is no master, it is unlikely to lay dragon eggs... If this sounds strange, then it is right. Dragons are probably the closest existence to gods in this world. They cannot be compared with human habits and tendencies, but dragon riders are different. They can indeed influence the dragons themselves."

"And then there are the companions. There are many conditions for hatching dragon eggs. If there is only one dragon, it is very likely that it will not be willing to lay dragon eggs because there will be no other dragons to help it hatch..."

"It sounds more and more like a story about a weirdo." Artis regretted it as soon as he said it. So many weirdos have appeared around him. Perhaps under the planning of the bard, he might have become the biggest weirdo in Westeros.

"We need to change our thinking," Marwyn said, his eyes meaningful. "This dragon egg was found in a cave in the Mountains of the Moon. I'm afraid it was most likely laid by a sheep thief riding Castor. This dragon was often regarded as a male dragon during the Dance with the Dragons, but there is no basis for this."

As they were speaking, the red woman came to the godswood and leaned against the fence built by the gardener from King's Landing, listening thoughtfully to Marwyn's narration.

The weather was getting colder and winter was coming. Melisandre was like a natural heat source when she approached. It seemed that where she stood, the will of the Lord of Light was manifested, walking on God's behalf.

"What do you need from me?" Melisandre bowed to Artis and Myrcella before asking Marwyn.

Marwin pressed the tip of his nose until it turned red, "The time is not right..." His long sleeves seemed to be cast with magic, and anything could be put in them. Marwin groped and a long candle as black as night appeared.

Anyone who has a little understanding of scholars can tell the clue of this thing in one sentence.

Myrcella exclaimed in a low voice: "Glass candles?"

Artis walked forward and carefully examined the glass candle that Marwyn took out from his sleeve. He paced back and forth: "I remember there are only four glass candles in the Citadel, all from Valyria, one green and three black. Could this be..."

"The Prime Minister is right," Marwyn pushed his glasses above his nose, as if he had worn Myr glasses before. "Rather than letting it burn into ashes in the Citadel, it is better to shine here... Of course, this is only part of it, the rest..." He waved to Simon, the butler, who pulled the black cloth in his hand, and a longer candle appeared.

"Glass candles, can they be disassembled?" "Just like the small parts that the Myr people like," Marwyn said, "Such long things are not suitable for long journeys. When the Citadel brought them from the Valyrian Freehold that had not yet been destroyed, they were also disassembled into sections using special means. They were only pieced together when they arrived at the Citadel. Look," he pointed to the middle of the candle, "it was originally divided into two sections from here, but there is no sign of being broken, and it fits perfectly."

"Excuse me, Dr. Marwyn," Myrcella asked, stepping closer to look at the candle, "has this been approved by the Citadel?"

Marwyn chuckled twice. "What can a maester from the Citadel do? I guarantee that no one has noticed that the glass candle has been replaced with a fake one. After all, it has already burned. Putting in a real candle can also confuse the world."

As if to prove Marwyn's words, the candle, which was as black as the night, ignited a small flame on his head the moment it left his sleeve. Marwyn walked forward in the astonished eyes of everyone. The closer he got to the dead hearttree, the brighter the flame burned, until the light even covered the gloomy sky above Harrenhal, and was more eye-catching and dazzling than the lighthouse on the coast of the Narrow Sea.

"Seven Gods above..." Myrcella blurted out, but quickly shut up, glanced at the woman in red robe, and changed Seven Gods to All Gods.

Melisandre's red eyes reflected the white light produced by the glass candle. There was a faint white mist around her red robe. The godswood entered a long summer at this time, but the heat source and light source were separated. The sun was divided into two bodies, the glass candle was responsible for the daylight, and Melisandre was the warmth of the sunlight.

"New history..." Melisandre murmured to herself, looking at the white flame burning at the top of the glass candle, as if trying to peek through it for the instructions of the Lord of Light.

"I saw," all eyes were drawn to Melisandre, "the ice melted, and winter roses grew in the cracks of the Wall, blooming and never withering. A dragon fell to the bottom of the sea, with the tendrils of a sea monster wrapped around it. A blue dragon was surrounded by giant eagles, protecting the children of the forest and humans fighting side by side below. A woman riding a dragon was flying in the desert, surrounded by countless treasures. A silver-haired prince walked on the wind, holding a sword side by side with his wife."

Then she took a few steps back, "This is fake, I can't touch it..."

"What do you mean?" Atis wondered.

Melisandre reached out her hand as if to touch the white light at the top of the glass candle.

"This can be touched, the prophecy... the power of the prophecy is reaching out..."

No one knew the secret, except Marwyn, who remained silent and calm, as if he had expected the Red Witch's reaction.

"Some prophecies are the gods' conjectures and hints of wanting to control the direction," Marwyn said, as if to explain to everyone, "but it has come to this point. The glass candles are rekindled in Harrenhal, which is different from the Citadel. The flames are stronger and brighter, as if daylight is in front of us. Dragon eggs are hatched, and living dragons appear before our eyes. Eastern wizards have regained their magic, and pyromancers are no longer guild liars. The power of God, just like the Valyrians were guided by wizards in the past, has penetrated from the unknown realm through blood magic and surrounded reality..."

Marwyn looked at the dragon, then at Attis.

"Blood magic, dragons, glass candles, the Red God, and the dead heart tree," Marwyn said, "plus..." He turned and looked at Melisandre, "Tell me, Scarlet Witch, what do you see? The power of the prophecy reaches out to you. What is that prophecy?!"

"It's the young dragons around the Duke's knees. It's the blue dragons soaring in the crescent falcon flag. It's the dragon flames covering the frozen land, and countless valley riders charging into battle. It's the dragon riders riding blue dragons into the sky, followed by giant eagles behind them..."

"Chance and necessity, the gods play a role in it..." Marwyn murmured, he looked at Attis, "I need your blood."

Artis looked at Melisandre's determined and fanatical eyes, drew out his dagger, and slashed it across his palm.

Test tubes appeared again in Marwyn's sleeves, collecting the flowing blood.

"The glass candle is the carrier, the red-robed woman is the narrator, and the rich magic is the objective condition. We also need implementers," Marwin coughed awkwardly, "It's a pity that I'm just a planner, and we still need people who can operate..."

The children of the forest had already been attracted by the noise and were slowly approaching from all sides of the Godwood.

"We need practitioners of blood magic," Marwyn looked at the children of the forest, "please."

(End of this chapter)