A shadow.
Offer a shadow?
Stannis Baratheon's face, carved like stone, betrayed no emotion, yet his tightly clenched fists revealed his internal struggle.
He had spent his life believing in laws, in order, in tangible swords and castle walls.
He felt a deep-seated repulsion and disgust toward this ethereal magic.
But.
He had no choice.
That little madman Joffrey had issued an edict from King's Landing, treating him like a criminal to be humiliated at will.
His brother Renly, who only knew how to eat peaches and carrots, was massing an army at Storm's End, scheming to overthrow Joffrey and steal the throne that rightfully belonged to him.
All of Westeros seemed to be mocking him, the eldest son of House Baratheon.
He was a pitiful creature with nothing but an empty claim to the throne.
He needed power.
A power that could crush his enemies, yet remain unseen.
"My King."
Melisandre's voice echoed again, carrying a mesmerizing magic.
"What are you hesitating for?"
"Your enemies will not hesitate."
"They are carving up your kingdom and mocking your weakness."
Stannis slowly raised his head, his gloomy eyes fixed on the red-robed woman before him.
"Why should I believe you?"
"Because I can show you hope."
Melisandre stepped toward the fireplace, the flames casting a long, wildly dancing shadow of her on the floor.
"The Lord of Light is the one true God."
"He has seen your plight, and He is willing to grant you power."
"As long as you are willing to show your devotion."
Stannis fell silent.
He thought of Robert, his brother who had won the entire kingdom with a warhammer.
What would Robert do if he were here?
He'd probably smash this woman's head in with a hammer and curse her "bullshit gods."
But he wasn't Robert.
He didn't have Robert's charisma, nor his martial prowess.
He only had his indignation.
"Fine."
Stannis squeezed the word out through clenched teeth.
"I agree."
"Tell me what to do."
Melisandre's face broke into an expected smile.
"Please stand before the flames, my King."
Stannis did as instructed.
He walked to the fireplace, the searing heat washing over him, making him slightly uncomfortable.
"Now, please gaze into the flames."
Melisandre's voice became ethereal and solemn.
"Clear your mind, feel the warmth and greatness of the Lord of Light."
She began chanting softly in an ancient tongue.
Stannis couldn't understand the language, but he could feel a certain mystical power within it.
The light in the room seemed to dim, leaving only the flames in the fireplace dancing wildly.
Melisandre's chanting grew faster.
She extended her palm toward the roaring flames.
The fire licked her skin, yet she seemed to feel no pain.
Her eyes stared intently into the heart of the flames.
She was calling out.
She was offering her most devout prayers to her god, the great Lord of Light!
She prayed for the god to send down a prophecy, to guide her and her King to victory.
...
King's Landing.
Tower of the Hand.
Lynn was playing "Fight the Landlord" with Cersei and Lyanna.
He had Sansa make the cards, letting the people of this world experience it first to see if there was a market for it.
This card game was easy to understand and quick to pick up, and the two of them learned it in no time.
The loser had to take a drink.
Right now, a row of empty glasses sat before Cersei and Lyanna.
Their cheeks were flushed, their eyes glazed—they were clearly tipsy.
Lyanna giggled.
"I can't, I can't anymore."
She waved her hand, practically slumping over the table.
"Lord Lynn is too good, I can't drink another drop."
Cersei also leaned back in her chair, resting her forehead on her hand.
She hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time.
Ever since Tommen had been "rescued" by Lynn, and Joffrey had completely become Lynn's puppet, she felt her life was once again full of hope.
Even if the price for that hope was herself.
She was more than willing!
Just then.
The smile on Lynn's face suddenly froze.
He felt it.
A faint yet incredibly devout, incredibly pure power of faith, bridging across a vast distance to connect with his consciousness.
What the hell is this?
Lynn frowned.
This feeling was strange.
Like someone was frantically calling him, but the signal was bad.
Lynn closed his eyes and tried to trace the source of this power.
The next second.
His consciousness was pulled into a peculiar space.
All around was a void, with only a roaring ball of fire suspended in mid-air.
And he was that ball of fire.
Lynn: "???"
What's going on?
How did I turn into a ball of fire?
Didn't I absorb the authority of the Great Other?
I should be a block of ice!
This isn't right!
Just as his mind was filled with questions.
A woman's voice rang out from beyond the flames.
The voice was filled with fanatical devotion.
"Great Lord of Light, Heart of Fire!"
"Your servant, Melisandre, prays to you!"
Lynn immediately understood.
Melisandre!
The red priestess on Dragonstone!
Doesn't she always pray to the Lord of Light?
How did she connect to me?!
Could it be...
Lynn thought of a possibility.
Because he had absorbed the authority of the Great Other.
So his power interfered with her prayer?
No, that didn't make sense, because the Great Other and the Lord of Light were opposing entities.
Or perhaps...
He had intercepted it?
Lynn felt he had grasped the crux of the matter, but couldn't quite explain it.
However, that wasn't important.
What was important was that right now, in Melisandre's eyes, he was the Lord of Light!
A mischievous thought sprang up in Lynn's mind.
"Speak your plea, my servant."
Lynn tried to use a divine tone, projecting his thoughts across the void.
His voice echoed in that empty space, sounding majestic and grand.
Beyond the flames, Melisandre's body trembled violently.
God!
God actually answered her!
She was ecstatic; this was a rare opportunity.
In the past, the Lord of Light always showed her images in the flames to analyze herself. She had never heard such a clear response.
Seizing the moment, she quickly voiced the question that had plagued her for so long.
"My Lord, is the Prince That Was Promised, Azor Ahai reborn, the Stannis Baratheon before our eyes?"
"Will he lead us to victory against the coming Long Night?"
Stannis?
The face of that rigid man appeared in Lynn's mind.
Him? A prince?
Lynn almost laughed out loud.
A man who would even sacrifice his own daughter, does he deserve it?
But Lynn held back.
He spoke slowly, in a tone of compassion.
"Pitiful servant."
"You have misinterpreted the will."
Melisandre was stunned.
Misinterpreted?
What did that mean?
Lynn began to spout nonsense with a straight face.
"Stannis is devout, but he is not the one."
"Then... who is?"
Melisandre's voice trembled.
"The seed of fire was planted long ago in the capital of the stag."
Lynn gave an ambiguous hint.
"The true prince will emerge from winter. He commands dragons, and he will end all false kingships and be crowned King."
"Dragons... King's Landing..."
Melisandre chewed on these words.
She felt she had grasped something crucial.
Emerge from winter?
Doesn't that mean coming from the bitter cold of the North?
And King's Landing, that's the domain of the new Hand of the King, Lynn!
That Lynn came from the North!
It all connected.
Could it be...
A thought that shocked even herself surfaced in her mind.
"Then what should I do? Great Flame!"
"Let the false kings slaughter each other."
"Let their blood be the sacrifice for the new King's coronation."
"Go to King's Landing."
"Find that seed of fire and aid him."
"Only he can conquer the darkness and usher in the true dawn."
With those words.
Lynn abruptly severed the connection.
He'd played his part enough; any more and he might give himself away.
The Lord of Light probably wasn't as talkative as him.
In the Tower of the Hand, Lynn slowly opened his eyes.
"Lord Lynn, what's wrong?"
Lyanna looked at him, her face full of concern.
"Nothing, just spaced out for a moment."
Lynn smiled and ruffled her hair.
He glanced at the deeply intoxicated Cersei across the table, his mood excellent.
Fooling someone into thinking you're a god felt pretty good.
Should he start his own religion?
...
Dragonstone.
The flames in the fireplace gradually returned to normal.
Melisandre stood there, completely crestfallen.
Her face still bore the marks of profound shock.
"Melisandre!"
Stannis's voice pulled her back to reality.
"What did you see?!"
Melisandre looked at Stannis's eager face, then thought of the "divine prophecy" that had completely shattered her understanding.
She knew she couldn't tell the truth.
If she told Stannis he wasn't the prophesied one, the stubborn man would kill her on the spot.
She took a deep breath, replacing that mysterious smile on her face.
"I saw it."
"I saw your enemies turned to ash in the flames."
"I saw Renly's crown fall to the ground."
"I saw Joffrey die screaming."
"You will be the final victor."
Hearing this, a faint smile finally appeared on Stannis's rigid face.
God had told him he would win!
Melisandre watched his triumphant look.
The Red God was her faith; whoever the Red God proclaimed as the ender of the Long Night, that's who it was!
Having received a clear answer, she had no need for her own thoughts.
She turned and gazed out the window, toward the churning sea.
At the end of the sea was King's Landing.
She knew she had to go there.
She had to find the true King!
With this thought, Melisandre turned back, a strange smile on her face.
"Stannis, you are destined to be King."
"Now, I have received the Lord of Light's revelation. Please, cooperate with me."
"The shadow will help you eliminate your enemies!"