"Witch, mind your manners," Drazenko Rogare said with clear displeasure. "My brother has already shown great courtesy by allowing you aboard this ship out of respect for the followers of the Lord of Light. Do not overstep your bounds." Drazenko couldn't understand why Lysandro had permitted this mysterious priestess to join them just as they were about to set sail. However, the heat radiating from her earlier had made it clear that if she harbored any ill intent, they would never make it to Brandyport.
"Thank you for your assistance," the red priestess replied, her expression returning to its usual aloofness. "The Lord of Light will bless you." With that, she turned and walked up the gangway without looking back. Drazenko moved to stop her, but a sharp glance from Lysandro held him back. They couldn't afford to offend a sorceress of unknown power, especially one who served R'hllor. While Lys did not worship the Red God, its followers were feared for their abilities. Lysandro didn't want to cause unnecessary trouble and could only let the priestess go.
After nearly a decade of development, Brandyport had surpassed King's Landing and Lannisport to become the third-largest port in Westeros. Soon, the harbor of Silvercrown City would overtake Oldtown to claim the title of the largest port. The red priestess's fiery eyes swept over the numerous foreign temples and the grand sept that dominated the harbor district. She couldn't help but scoff. If not for the mission entrusted to her by the Lord of Light, she might have been tempted to cast a spell and destroy these false temples. But she restrained herself and slowly entered a red temple. The moment she stepped inside, a beggar who had been huddled in a corner lifted his head, stood up, and shuffled into the sept.
A septon approached him. "Brother, it's not time for alms." The beggar shook his head and opened his mouth. The septon took one look and immediately recognized the man's identity. He quickly led him into a confessional. Moments later, a raven flew out from the sept's window.
Inside the Red Temple
The red priestess calmly watched as several red priests lit the sacred flame in a golden brazier. "I have seen the vision of the one true god. The Lord of Light has shown me that the ruler of this land is His chosen. Why, then, do the temples of false gods still stand? Why do the lies of false faiths still take root here?" The red priests exchanged uneasy glances but dared not answer.
The priestess stopped her questioning. She glanced around at the assembled clergy, then slowly stepped into the flames. The fire surged upward, and her hair and eyes seemed to ignite—no, the ruby at her throat was burning. In the blink of an eye, she vanished into the flames.
As the fire gradually subsided and died out, the red priests looked at one another, sighed, and remained silent.
Dragon's Nest, Silverblood Tower, Dragonflame Hall
This hall, located on the fifth floor of Silverblood Tower, was second in size only to the main hall. It was spacious enough to accommodate four young dragons at play.
For reasons unknown, Draezell had abruptly brought forth Samantha's *Candlelight* and Daenyra's Aurorae from the Dragonpit after watching the Kingsguard selection. He now stood calmly before a fireplace, watching as the flames inside surged violently, as if something were trying to emerge. Yet, whatever it was remained trapped, thrashing and swirling helplessly within the fire.
In the corner of the hall, Aegarax was playfully circling around Zarafax, while Candlelight lounged comfortably by the fireplace, allowing the much smaller Aurorae to rest on its back.
"Someone's trying to break into Dragon's Nest?" Ray noticed the strange behavior of the flames in the fireplace. Valar, ever the man of action, had already drawn Black Widow, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"A foolish red priestess," Draezell said, recognizing the fire-traveling technique. Bem-Throro and Malak had used the same method years ago to move between the Great Temple and his father Claelorius's secret laboratory. With a wave of his hand, Draezell separated a portion of the flames, causing them to surge upward. The red priestess tumbled out of the fire, looking disheveled.
"You have forsaken the one true god!" the priestess blurted out in a mix of Asshai'i and Common Tongue. "You have betrayed the Lord of Light's prophecy. How dare you allow the followers of false gods to thrive on lands blessed by Him!"
Candlelight lifted its ugly head, its large, watery eyes curiously examining what looked like a delicious piece of meat—especially one so rich in magic. The scent was so enticing that the little dragon nearly dropped Aurorae from its back. Quickly, Candlelight used its tentacles to secure the sleeping dragon, then turned its gaze toward the priestess, its eyes now filled with suspicion.
"What did the Lord of Light show you, priestess?" Draezell asked, his eyes fixed on the ruby at her throat. He could sense the powerful magic within it, but he was stronger. He had already mixed his blood into the fireplace flames, and the effects would soon become apparent.
"I saw you and your dragons," the priestess said, sensing something was wrong. "I saw you drawing Lightbringer in a land of demons and sin. I saw you riding a dragon to strike down another, one-eyed demon dragon. I saw the fire burning in your blood. This is the blessing of the Lord of Light, yet you have betrayed Him."
"He doesn't care," Draezell said, feeling a headache coming on. This woman was clearly a fanatic, and her fanaticism had granted her considerable power. "He doesn't care, priestess." Draezell raised his hand, and the priestess immediately felt something was wrong. The ruby at her throat burned like fire, yet she could not stop her hands from rising to her own neck and tightening around it.
"Priestess, the gods only care about the great song of ice and fire," Draezell said, his voice calm as he gently rotated his hand. He stopped Valar, who was ready to end the priestess with a single stroke of his sword, and instead let her feel his power.
The priestess felt her strength draining away. Her blood grew cold, and the light from the ruby dimmed. "Priestess, remember this: what you see in the flames is not always what it seems," Draezell said, slowly lowering his hand. The priestess collapsed to the floor, and Candlelight sniffed at her curiously before recoiling in disgust.
"What have you done, heretic who has forsaken the one true god?" the priestess asked in horror, realizing that her magic had weakened. Even the ruby, a gift from the Lord of Light, had lost much of its luster.
"This is your punishment, priestess," Draezell said, stroking his beard. "Did none of your colleagues in Asshai warn you to beware of blood Wixards? Now, tell me your true purpose."
The priestess hesitated, then suddenly found herself speaking against her will. "I saw the chosen of the Lord of Light in the flames. I hoped to spread the true faith through a powerful monarch who commands dragons. What have you done to me?"
"A simple trick, priestess," Draezell said with a smile. "The song of ice and fire has a long way to go before it begins. You're too impatient. Your god won't be pleased."
"You—"
"Tell me your name, priestess."
Draezell's finger lightly touched the ruby at her throat, as if he could shatter it at any moment.
Feeling the magic within her fading, the red priestess hesitated before finally speaking, unwillingly.
"Melisandre."