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CHP 31: Gods of Men
🕑 Added 2024-09-02 18:27:46 +0000 UTCAs I rode back to Pinkmaiden, all around me seemed to blur as I pondered over my actions with the Lannister Host.
I had routed them... but not wiped them out in the same total fashion as all else in the Lands Between. I hadn't crushed them, destroyed all resistance and forced them into submission like Lord Godfrey... nor had I utterly hunted them down to every last man, woman and child like Messmer the Impaler, the demigod who led the crusade and genocide of the Hornsent under Marika's orders.
"Poor kid..." I mumbled, recalling the unfortunate demigod.
He was hated too, and struck from all records for simply doing what his mother had ordered him to... because a God couldn't be associated with such a ‘horrible’ thing.
That was one of the many acts that culminated in my fondness for Marika turning to resentment.
I failed to understand why I didn't destroy them all... After all, was that not the right way?
To destroy all resistance so thoroughly they wouldn't think of approaching me again?
Wasn't that the only way to peace?
It was the only thing I knew with certainty.
No... I did understand... This world had no need for such a thing because I wasn't in constant danger like before... Then, was this what I was really like when the situation didn't force my hand?
I pulled on Roach's reins before quietly dismounting and walking up to the treeline along the dirt path. Studying it for a moment, I put my hand against the tree, feeling the rough texture of the bark against the tips of my fingers.
"Little bird." I started, smiling politely, "You think I haven't noticed you follow me around?"
Cocking my head, I looked at the black crow that had been tailing me ever since I'd burnt down the Twins and the Freys.
It was discreet, and kept its distance well enough but... one could only be so discreet when no other animal even wanted to breathe the same air as me and ran away so its attempts at hiding didn't really amount to much.
With a loud cry, it perched itself on the branch above and stared down with dark eyes that gleamed with wisdom and intelligence far beyond it had any right to possess.
It watched me quietly, and I watched back.
"I don't really mind having a spectator but..." I sighed, putting my hands on my belt, "Do you think I can't find you?"
It cawed again and cocked its head.
"Are you seriously trying to play the part of the dumb animal right now? Look around, there's no wildlife around us for a good distance." I gestured to the hauntingly empty woods around us, "And, I don't really get why anyone would want to follow me of all peo-"
I was cut off by an arrow flying past my shoulder and burying itself in the tree, an inch above my hand, "How rude."
Turning around, I was met with drawn steel... and a big, shirtless man holding a woodcutter's axe. His chest heaved up and down with each breath. A few steps behind him, a skinny boy held a drawn boy, his red hair wet from the light rain.
"You should probably not keep it drawn." I commented, smiling at them as I studied the faces of my 'assailants'. A few of them wore tabards and ringed mail, with hardy features and steely eyes that spoke volumes about their nature.
"I hear it can hurt you."
They were soldiers... and common folk too.
"Deserters?"
They were largely unamused by my words but the two at the centre parted to make way for a shorter man, with red-gold hair and one grey eye, the other covered by blindfold... The scar running behind it told me that that wasn't a fashion choice on his part.
His smile mirrored my own as he lowered his dark shield and sheathed his longsword, "I would like to apologise for the actions of my men... We thought you were a Lannister scout."
"Well, mistakes happen. Karl. What brings you boys to this neck of the woods?" I smiled wryly, hands behind my back.
The man I presumed to be the leader held up two fingers, possibly a sign for his men, "Beric Dondarrion, of the Brotherhood without Banners. We had heard that a Lannister host was to march through here."
"Yep." I nodded, "But they changed their minds and won't be approaching the Riverlands for a while."
His one eye slightly widened at my words, and I took the time to look at his robed companion.
A tall, fat man with a shaved head and a face that looked a bit too smooth for a company of deserters or whatever... He was even wearing red robes and carried a sword at his waist, strapped next to a leather skin flask, reeking of wine and alcohol.
"What's a man of the cloth doing here?" I inquired curiously, "Though, I might be wrong considering the size of your belly."
He laughed at my words, "Thoros of Myr, friend. The Lord of Light decided that I'd be better off with this band of brigands."
Lord of Light?
I scratched my chin curiously.
So far I'd encountered three distinct classifications of deities.
The Drowned and Storm Gods of the extinct Ironborn. I'd felt glee and loathing in equal amounts when I attacked the Iron Islands, from the sky above and the endless sea below.
The Old Gods of the North who had no names but still carried power, power I'd felt within the ancient, deep and dark forests that sprawled in the largest of the Seven Kingdoms.
And the Seven... which I believed were less gods and more symbols than anything as I had yet to see any signs of their existence.
"Lord of Ligh-"
"Surely, you jest. What could possibly make the Lannister host change directions?" Beric cut me off with a raised voice, and I could understand where he was coming from, "Lord Tywin Lannister is not a man to change his mind."
I smiled, amused by his naive haste, "The same thing that happened at the Golden Tooth. I drove them off and paid Lord Lannister a personal visit."
In the blink of an eye, the entire mood shifted.
Beric's men grew uneasy, they were good at hiding it but... There were always the subtle giveaways.
A twitch of the finger, a minimal shift in the body, a wayward glance, a bead of sweat, their drumming hearts, a tightened grip.
The silence was interrupted by the young archer accidentally loosing his arrow. His eyes opened wide in regret and shame as the arrow flew through the air, aimed at my chest. All it really did though was lower my image of them.
I simply slapped the arrow out of the air so it didn't ruin my fashionable clothes and shot the boy an unamused look, "Told you it can harm you, young man. Be more careful."
He stammered and nodded fervently, "Y...Yes, m-m'lord."
Sighing and perhaps making up his mind, Beric approached me with measured steps, "Friend, would you mind accompanying us? I wish to hear the details of your endeavour."
It was odd that he believed me.
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes before shrugging, "Sure, why not?"
Time was the only thing I did have on my hands.
I was also quite curious about these people seeing as they barely had any reaction to me slapping a loose arrow out of the air. It meant that they'd seen something much much more unbelievable.
The merry band of brigands, as Thoros put it, led me into the forest, past ancient woods where the air howled like ancient spirits and softly caressed my skin. The rain had started picking up, and washed away our footsteps.
Most of them were too grim and serious for my liking.
Thoros walked beside me, taking gulp after gulp from his flask before he noticed me and held it out, "You want some?"
"Nah." I waved my hand, "I did want to ask though. Who's this Lord of Light?"
He stopped short, taken aback, then smiled coyly, "You'd be better off asking one of the other priests. I'm only there for the food."
I chuckled at his reasoning, before casting a glance at his belly, "I can see that, man."
He laughed as he stepped over a branch, using his thick hands to tug at his robes.
"But I don't think I can find one of you just wandering around."
I hadn't heard a single word about this so-called Lord of Light during my time here.
This was something I was unused to as the whole of the Lands Between had only ever had one major deity... Certainly, there was the Fell God of the Giants and the Formless Mother, the Goddess of Rot, even Chaos itself and so on and so forth but their following was minimal, knowledge of their existence limited to only a select few individuals.
"You could go anywhere in the world and find a red priest." Thoros started with a chuckle, "There's too many of us I'd say. Braavos, Lys, Myr, Qohor, Tyrosh, Pentos, Volantis and Asshai of course, you'll find Red Priests in all the Free Cities. The lord's influence is vast... and until recently, my faith was regretfully flimsy."
Free Cities... they came up often... and a number of people had thought I hailed either from Volantis or Braavos so I was quite curious about them. Braavos because her people had a thing for dyeing their hair into strange colours, painting their nails and what not. Volantis because her people still had Valyrian blood among them.
Valyrian blood being the blood of dragonriders... though that misunderstanding was rooted purely in the color of my hair.
"What changed?"
Thoros snapped his fingers with a grin and drew his blade, taking care to not hit one of the trees. He uttered a few words in a strange language I didn't understand, then snapped his fingers.
"Oh my..."
As I watched, his blade caught fire and heated up the air. The rain that struck it sizzled and evaporated. Thoros quickly sheathed the blade again, "Neat little thing, isn't it?"
I smiled and nodded, "A most curious thing."
"There's also the little part about resurrecting Beric."
More curious.
-
Hope you enjoyed.
Comment your thoughts or suggestions bros.
Comments
Donovan
I know right like bro I'm sorry but you're just not that guy
Bter
Lil bro was flexing with fire grease in front of a guy who can become bayle 😭😭😭
Rachel N
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