Riverlands,
North bank of the Trident, near Darry
Lord Gawain Royce
Gawain walked between the tents, glancing every now and then to the south, where a titanic golden tree grew, shining like a second sun. Because of it, despite the night, the soldiers could hardly sleep, whether because of the bright light or the very presence of this unnatural miracle.
He himself had grown up among high mountain peaks, but even they seemed tiny compared to this monster. He could not tell how big it was, for it repelled all the clouds with some invisible force, and its golden branches stretched even above their heads.
When the warrior leading them suddenly disappeared, the young Lord Royce felt that something bad had happened, or at least something unfavourable for their forces, and when their god did not return, he was already completely certain that either he himself or the other gods had fallen at the hands of the dragon.
And a few hours ago, as the sun began to sink below the horizon, their eyes were filled with a golden glow, and then they could only watch as somewhere to the south a tree of light grew, tearing through the clouds and spreading its branches for hundreds of miles around. And all this to the accompaniment of the roaring wind and the tremors.
He knew well whose power must have been used to perform this miracle. It was a monument, a testament of victory that challenged them all. Behold my power. Against this you are trying to rise. For how could one fight against someone capable of such things?
Looking once more at the camp shrouded in light, he saw several of his companions sitting on a fallen tree nearby. The powerful, grey-haired Rodmar Grafton; the slim, blond Jasper Redfort; and his brother-in-law, Eric Waynwood.
They stared in silence at the magical view stretching out in front of them, and their faces were clearly filled with worry and helplessness.
He came closer and sat down in the empty seat next to Eric. They spent a few minutes like that before Rodmar spoke, "I see you can't sleep either. Although it's hard to be surprised, that damn tree is shining like a dog's balls."
Gawain burst out laughing at this poor attempt at cheering up the atmosphere, appreciating the effort itself. "Well, we'll have to get used to it. I suspect that the tree is visible from every place in Westeros, or at least its crown."
"Hmh." Rodmar muttered, then sipped some alcohol from a leather flask and added, "The truth is, gentlemen, that we're screwed. None of our gods are capable of something like that, because they would have shown off to us poor mortals a long time ago."
"And you can see the pattern." Jasper agreed, taking the drink and taking a long sip. "Ice tree, golden tree. What's next? Fire? Air? Rainbow? This Dovahkiin must really like trees. Maybe he's really some old god of the First Men."
"But you have to admit he doesn't do anything half-heartedly," Eric said, then with a little forced laughter, added, "Can you imagine the leaves starting to fall off that thing? Each one the size of the training ground."
They all laughed, although the vision was rather terrifying.
"You don't have to worry about that. Those leaves won't fall as long as I live." Their laughter was interrupted by an alien voice from the side. Strong and demanding of obedience, but it carried a note of amusement at the moment.
At one point their heads turned to the left, where the voice had come from, and there, as if from nowhere, just a few feet away from them, stood an extremely tall man in a black cloak, which seemed to absorb the light of the tree.
Golden eyes with vertical pupils looked at them searchingly, as if trying to read them. "Don't interrupt; it was interesting to listen to you. I have time for now…"
Gawain and the others watched him in silence, stunned by the unexpected appearance of the stranger, although subconsciously they knew who they were dealing with.
His priests eventually even handed out engravings with his image. In addition, his presence itself carried something heavy and overwhelming.
The Lord of Runestone was the first to get to his feet, and his company followed close behind. However, none of them reached for weapons, because they had none with them. Even if they did, they knew it would be pure stupidity in the face of this creature.
"Lo... Lord Dovahkiin." Gawain began, bowing his head slightly.
The new god just waved his hand. "No, no... You don't have to call me lord. A god or an imperator is enough."
Although he said it in a light tone, it seemed joking. There was a certain order hidden in this sentence. They were silent, however, not knowing how to behave in this situation.
Dovakhiin sighed and then pointed to the fallen tree they had been sitting on a moment ago. "Sit with me," he said, then sat down at the very edge of it.
The lords looked at each other, and then their eyes fell on Gawain, as if expecting him to make the decision for them. The dragon must have noticed this too, for he said, "Gawain, I wish to speak for now. If I wished to harm you, I would turn this plain into a sea of fire, and there would be nothing either of you could do about it."
Gawain, realising that he was not only right but also capable of destroying them in the blink of an eye, decided to follow the voice of reason and sit down, and the others followed him.
"To lighten the mood, you may call me Neferion, or Lord Neferion if you prefer," said the Dovahkiin, but they did not feel at all relaxed. The Lord of Runestone felt as if he were sitting right next to death itself, and one wrong move or word and he might never see his beloved wife or little Percival again.
"Lord Neferion," he began, trying to choose his words carefully. "I understand that Warrior, one of the Seven, has fallen since you are here?"
A silver goblet and a stone bottle of an unknown drink materialised in front of Dovahkiin, which uncorked itself and filled the goblet, which he took in his hand and began to drink calmly, as if he hadn't heard his question at all.
Gawain felt sweat running down his back, despite the rather cold night. The other was clearly playing with them, but what his goal was, he didn't know. Whether he wanted to assess their character and composure, or maybe it was just a game for him, or a tormenting game.
A moment later, however, he couldn't hide his surprise when Dovhkiin grabbed the bottle and held it out towards him, saying, "A sip?"
When none of them reached out for the bottle, however, he only sighed and added, "Nothing will happen to you. What's more, you have the opportunity to taste a Mazte, drink from my land, where it is probably the rarest alcohol because the race that created it has not existed for thousands of years. What's more, it restores stamina and stimulates."
Hearing this, Rodmar, who was fond of various drinks, greedily reached for the bottle, taking a large sip, but immediately began to choke.
"What the hell is this!? It kicks harder than my wife... I can feel it eating my throat!" He shouted, and both Gawain and the others, unable to stop themselves, burst out laughing.
"You drank too much at once. Mazte is drunk in small sips." Dovahkiin interrupted, and his voice immediately silenced them; he immediately remembered who they were sitting here with.
"And to answer your earlier question, Gawain, no. Warrior is alive, although he now has a different title, Ebony Knight, and serves as my Champion; after all, it is fitting that every god should have one."
Young Lord Royce felt his mind stop functioning for a moment. Just a moment. What kind of power does one need to possess to make an enemy deity not only one's servant but also one's champion?
However, Dovahkiin didn't let him gather his thoughts, saying things that completely turned his idea of the world upside down.
"I sent him to deal with the Reach army. Now that the other six aspects are dead, I have to sort out this mess somehow. The Westerlands are mine, and right now my priests are heading to deal with the rebellion in the Stormlands. So really, it's you who are left."
Gawain looked at his companions; he saw the same understanding written on their faces. There was only one path from this place. The world turned upside down before their eyes. They could only hope that this new order would find a place for them.
As if reading their minds, Dovahkiin reached out his hand, in which a sealed letter appeared. Gawain looked at this divine being with surprise and hesitantly took it, examining it carefully.
The parchment was unlike any he had seen in his life; it was too smooth and thin, but at the same time, it seemed extremely durable. On the seal was an imprint of a dragon wrapped around what seemed to be a tree.
" He looked at Dovahkiin once more and asked, "My Lord, I understand that this is your seal, but why do you give me this letter?"
"This is a letter appointing you as governor of the Westerosi province of Vale, belonging from this day forward to the Great Empire of the Dawn. Or rather, a new version of it, which I have the honour of leading as God-Emperor. Hail to the Emperor! Etc., etc."
Then rising, he added, "You will gather your troops in the morning and head back to Vale. Further instructions will be given when you arrive. I will probably show up myself. As for headquarters, you may choose. The Eyrie is yours."
With a final glance at them, he added, "You may keep the rest of the mazte. And gentlemen, I hope you won't disappoint me, because you won't get a second chance."
"Leaf," he called out, but somewhere behind them emerged a small figure, which they initially took for a child, but when the tree's light fell on it, they realised that they couldn't have been more wrong. The creature could only be the legendary Child of the Forest from legends.
The creature jumped onto the Dovahkiin's back, deftly clinging to it around the neck, after which it began to rise, only to fly away a moment later.
Gawain, along with the others, stared at the now empty sky, wondering how the world had gone mad in a few months.
"What are we doing?" Jasper's uncertain voice tore him away.
He looked at him and replied with a sigh, "What do you mean? We're going back to Vale, where we have a lot of work to do if we want to show our usefulness to the new God-Emperor."