A Game of Foresight

A/N: And here I am, back with more. Just so you know though, this chapter will deal with the last relevant development of that night with a POV shift until dawn arrives at Ironrath. Just mentioning it because my new tendency toward writing shorter chapters has ensured that it took longer than I originally planned to get to the execution of Ramsay you have all been waiting for. But after this chapter, all of the direct Light-filled ramifications I had planned that branched out from Melissandre's sacrifice are dealt with. This means that this important portion of setup and development is over and we are centering back on Jon and co in the next chapter and how they deal with the aftermath of the Battle of the Bastards since that point. Until then, I hope you find these developments interesting all the same.

And finally, by popular demand, I am adding to the lower author notes the full version of the epigraphs I started showing to you all in pieces since chapter 88. That will allow you to binge-read that part more easily as you look for clues and hints of future twists, among other things. Have fun trying to unravel them!

So, without further ado, let's get started.

A few hours later:

Southwest of Casterly Rock: The Sunset Sea

Euron Greyjoy remained seated in the wooden chair of his personal cabin, his eyes milk-white as his mind wandered elsewhere.

Soaring through the skies after skin-changing into a seagull, he looked on from the air as the imposing seat of Casterly Rock came into view.

He gazed upon the colossal fortress, full of structures that were excavated into the mountain and gold mines renowned across the world. A fortress that had never been taken by open **** before.

Then he smirked through the bird's beak, the gesture clearly odd and unnatural to any onlooker that might have been close enough to watch his borrowed form, and imagined a gigantic tidal wave sweeping the entire mountain and the nearby coastline into the sea.

"Now that would be a magnificent tribute for the Drowned God," He thought, feeling amused at the idea of personally sending the seat of those accursed, arrogant, and ill-born lions to His watery halls down below.

Then he shook his currently smaller head. "Alas, that will have to wait."

And with that, he surrendered his hold over the seagull and returned back to his body of birth. He blinked rapidly, forcing his eyes to refocus on his new surroundings. Then he took a deep breath and clenched his right hand, his fingers disliking the warm touch of the object he was holding.

"You can bring her in now," He called out.

At that, a couple of Ironborn guards brought the famed Ghost of High Heart back inside, his half-child of the forest prisoner glaring at him with her red eyes the entire time.

"Leave us," The King of the Iron Islands commanded. "And do not remain close enough to overhear if you know what's good for you," He added as a warning.

The guards nodded slowly, their bodies clearly tense at that before closing the door and walking away, their footsteps resounding over the wooden deck of the ship until they couldn't hear them anymore.

Euron then focused on his new favorite prisoner and offered her some wine. She promptly threw it away, the sound of the silver goblet clanging all over the floor of the cabin resonating in his ears.

"Hmph," Euron grunted, displeased. "And here I thought you might actually have been intrigued by the smell. That was wine made on Ibb, fermented with rare grapes found on the forests of the now-extinct Kingdom of the Ifequevron; the Essosi cousins to your Children of the Forest ancestors. Not particularly easy to find, you know."

The elderly greenseer didn't even spare the spilled wine a second glance. "What. Did. You. Do?!" She demanded to know, teeth-gritting as she practically growled at him.

The Head of House Greyjoy have her his most innocent look. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play games with me, boy." She warned. "You may have the backing of a dark god but I have been glimpsing the future since before your grandfather was even born. Long enough to sense when shifts in its currents are afoot...and to be able to tell if they are the result of someone's meddling."

He smirked at her, chuckling as he placed his closed, right fist over the table.

"Your mind is clearly still sharp," Euron acknowledged. "That's good. My ritual would benefit less from the might of a senile greenseer. But if you really want to know, I suppose I can grant you the information. Consider it compensation for your **** and imprisonment."

With that, he opened his palm and allowed the object to slide into the table.

This time, the Greenseer Monarch took great pleasure in watching the wood witch's expression, for her eyes actually widened in shock for once. She stared at it, an expression of disbelief in he gaze.

"That has to be what I felt," She whispered. "The abrupt...dam...around the foreign power of the Lord of Light cracking, with parts of his ancient might leaking through the openings like water from a partially contained river. But you couldn't have drawn in so much of that power into this crystal from so far away as soon as it was happening...unless..." Her red eyes widened as she gasped.

Euron nodded, his teeth showing as he smirked.

"Unless this was actually a broken piece of the Lord of Light's own body," He confirmed, tilting his head in amusement as he stared at her.

The Ghost of High Heart stared at the piece in, stunned. "Where did you even get something this valuable?"

"That's for me to know and for you to find out," The King of the Seastone Chair responded, laughing merrily. "Suffice to say for now that I didn't know what it was at first but after gaining my crown, the Drowned God provided some clarity. And while I still don't know all the details, now I know that this R'hllor, whatever he was, ended up becoming injured by extremely powerful dark magic thousands of years ago."

"Still, this sundered piece of his body, which was crystallized with time and/or the effects of the magic involved, became saturated with a vicious hunger," He explained. "Every time it touched the living skin of one of my mutes in the crew or of any animal I got close to it, the crystal sucked its life dry. It was quite fascinating to watch, really, and it might explain why the Red Priests of R'hllor preach the value of sacrifice so much: the origins of those misunderstandings in their faith date back to other splintered shards of their precious Lord of Light that found their way into their hands."

Then he shrugged. "All the same, after that realization, it became clear to me that it would be useful for my future plans if I could restore the Light-filled power of this shard of R'hllor's body. So, after analyzing the visions that were granted to me before heading to Deepwood Motte, I ordered a sorcerer of Yi Ti that is loyal to me to go help the armies that were moving against the precious descendant from that specific Targaryen line you prophesied about," He explained, frowning yet again as he thought of Jon "Stark". "And after the most precise instructions I could provide, to set the events in motion that would allow me to claim as much as I could from that power.

"Unfortunately, it appears that I wasn't the only one that had this sort of idea when the luminous leaks emerged from wherever R'hllor is," He continued, his tone filled with distaste. "As such, the amount of power I gathered will not be sufficient for all my plans in and on themselves. So, I will need to compliment this crystallized manifestation of the Lord of Light's might with other sources of magic to complete the ritual I intend to do. But don't you worry," He added with a grin, "I will find a way to get what I want."

The Greenseer's red gaze narrowed. "You have a sorcerer of Yi Ti that is truly loyal to you? And what could an abomination of magic like yourself want with the Light of R'hllor himself?"

Euron chuckled. "Well, to be more specific, my magical friend is more precisely loyal to an important tenet of his own religion. The fact that he and many others in his church have grown to consider me the religious figure they have been waiting for simply means I have a better reason to rely on them than usual. Never underestimate the value of fanaticism when it works to your advantage, oh great Ghost of High Heart."

The elderly woman's expression turned into a snarl, clearly angered by his words and actions. He just stared back at her with no change in his smug expression.

"As for what do I want a shard containing a piece of R'hllor light...why, I want to give it a better use, of course," He responded, in a tone that sounded like he had just said something particularly obvious.

The venomous glare expanded at the reply. "To twist it to your own purposes you mean. How dare you!"

"Say what you will," Euron said as he stood up from his chair, towering over the short half-breed. "But at the end of the day, great power belongs to those who are unafraid to take it. Those who are bold enough to openly wield it. And believe me, when your precious "Prince that was Promised" finally takes my bait and attacks the Iron Island, I will prove exactly what I mean when I show my true might to everyone watching. And no one, not him, nor his armies, nor his sorcerers, and not even his Ice Dragon will be able to stand in my way."

He stared at her, his eyes surely hardened.

"I have paid the iron price for my rule and for the powers I have come to master and no one will prevent me from fulfilling my destiny."

The Ghost of High Heart was quiet for a long moment, looking up to his face as she analyzed his words. Then, she titled her white-haired head almost imperceptively.

"Why did you bring me here?" She finally asked. "I doubt you are interested in revealing so much information out of the goodness of your heart, even if you intend to sacrifice me in your ritual soon."

"Quite right," The Greyjoy King said with a nod. "You see, I needed you to have a bit of context of my plans. Otherwise, I wouldn't be able to do what I am about to do now."

"And what is it that you are about to do?"

"Well, your latest revelation about the real identity of Eddard Stark's "son" left me wrestling with some really important questions," He began. "And I don't like the possibilities that my mind was coming up with. So, I am in need of more information. And I don't want to wait until the Seastone Chair deigns to provide those visions to me. Besides, we need something to pass the time as we continue sailing to Claw Isle, don't we?"

"As I told you before, I will kill myself before I tell you anything about this," The ancient woman replied, her time stubborn.

"I believe you would like to try," Euron said in agreement. "Which is why I decided to wait until I had used this crystal as much as I could to suck R'hllor's might that was suddenly lingering in the air. And while it is not as much as I had hoped...I can still use a small fragment in conjunction with my mental powers as a greenseer to extract the information to are hiding, even for a mind as gifted as yours."

Then he chuckled. "It would seem the Light doesn't appreciate lies in its presence, which makes it good at finding secrets hiding in the shadows. Most useful if you know how to harness that power for your own ends, wouldn't you say?"

For the first time since her capture, the Ghost of High Heart actually looked afraid. She didn't get the chance to even try to flee, however, because he raised the crystal with his right hand, pointed it at her, and, with a grunt of pain, **** a beam of light to erupt from the shard to hit her in the chest; the Greenseer screaming as the room brightened.

And probably not just because the light appeared to be corrupted, with dark shadows creeping into the borders of the thunderous bolt...

The Greyjoy King shook away the thought and gritted his teeth as the power of R'hllor resisted on his palm even as it flowed from the shard. But soon, he felt confident enough to ask the questions he sought, just in time for him to stop forcing the spear of light out of the shard.

"Now, tell me everything you know and have foreseen about the living son of Rhaegar Targaryen," He demanded as he clenched his teeth. "And then, tell me all you know about that Three-eyed Raven that foolishly rejected me as his apprentice."

And with that, his eyes had started turning milky-white like they do when warging. But before he could completely seize the powerful mind of the Greenseer before him, he managed to see his face in the mirror beside the door. And that was when he noticed something new.

His eyes had remained mostly milky white...but one was glowing with light at the center...and the other had turned as all-consuming as the dark abyss.

His human face remained frozen in a smirk as his mind finished entering the Ghost of High Heart's mind and he started getting to work. After all, he knew a solemn truth perfectly well:

At the bottom of the ocean, even light must die.

A/N: Well...that happened. It seems Euron is trying to discover things his mysterious and godly benefactor doesn't want him to know about, at least for the moment. Whatever could the entity behind the Seastone Chair's visions make of that?

Regardless, it also seems that Kinvara unwittingly ensured that Euron couldn't absorb as much power from R'hllor that had abruptly started leaking out of his cage as he originally planned. That means he is going to have to up his game and complement the ritual he plans to do with other sources of magic to get the desired-enough result. But as you could see here, he feels confident enough to be able to manage it. We will learn more about that in a future Interlude, between Story Arcs 8 and 9 so not the interlude between this arc and the next one that's coming soon.

That one will take us to Harlaw Island and some important characters from that side of the Ironborn plot start discussing recent developments concerning Euron. Regardless, we are approaching more than a few moments of pay-off now that the initial setup from Act 1 of my take is nearly done. When we get to Act 2 starting with the next arc, many plot seeds that were planted in the first 7 arcs will germinate over there so believe me when I say that I am looking forward to writing them. But like I say, in the meantime, first things first.

Now, down below is the full version of the epigraph that had left many of your wonderings in the comments. Hope this makes it a more comfortable reading. As always feel free to comment, be it about that, the chapter itself, or both. And thanks for reading yet again. You guys are great!

Epigraph for Story Arc 7:

To the last of the Prime on Planetos,

Old friend, I have spent a considerable portion of my power to ensure this missive reaches you. And for what it is worth, I hope it finds you well. Though, as you are essentially immortal, I would guess that wellness on your part is something of a given.

Even if the relative impotence caused by your imprisonment fills my words with irony.

I realize that you are probably still angry, even if the Light fills the very core of your essence. That is pleasant to know. Much as your perpetual health, I have come to rely upon your dissatisfaction with me.

It is one of creation’s great constants, I should think.

Let me first assure you that I know what you are up to. I felt the Prophetic Quake and I have tracked its source at the Wall. Furthermore, it has come to my attention that you spoke with the new cosmic player when he was still on Braavos. The winds told me, you might say.

You do not agree with my quest, and I understand that, so much as it is possible to understand someone with whom I disagree so completely.

Might I be quite frank? Long ago, you asked why I was so concerned. It is for the following reason: Once upon a time, Leaf’s human lover and the Lion of Night were some of the kindest, most promising men I have ever known.

And you saw what became of them.

Wyk, on the other hand, was among the most loathsome, crafty, and dangerous individuals I had ever met. And despite his frightening and terrible powers, he hasn’t been able to prevent the Great Other from meddling in his domain.

Ponder on all this for a time, you old Naaru, and tell me if your insistence on believing in this ascended mortal is based on a logical pattern or emotional stupidity.

Because I assure you, this Jon “Stark” will not be similarly inhibited in the end, not with the Night King’s god stirring at long last and his influence growing. The temptation of unleashing the full might of his new powers will eventually surpass the restraints of his weakened flesh.

One need only look at the aftermath of your ancient enemy’s manipulations on Yeen right after the Doom to see proof of what I say.

In case you have somehow managed to turn a blind eye to that disaster, know that Hrazef, Pantera, and Balerion are all dead, murdered when they sought shelter on Sothoryos. Presumably to prevent them from rising up to challenge his icy champion after overwhelming Westeros.

And try as I might, the Winter Queen remains elusive.

We were fortunate enough to be able to count on Azor Ahai in the first Long Night. Even more so to count on the Last Hero during the second one. But I remain unconvinced that we should risk putting our hopes in this new **** God, of all things, for the third Long Night.

Even if his ascension had a Titan’s seal of approval.

Unrestrained power has always been a problem for beings like us and despite his limits, there are simply too many ways for your so-called Promised One to reshape the wrong thing due to his limited perspective and ruin everything.

Honorable upbringing or not, his raw potential defies description and that should scare us all.

Of course, there are not that many of us left to fear these possibilities. I suppose that’s, in part, your point. After all, even the Light of your Seven closest allies has been shattered by now. Between all that and your imprisonment, enthusiastic hope must be hard to come by.

That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be cautious.

To make matters worse, the Oracle of the Weirwood has been restored; its nature god that Greenseers used to worship finally awakening in full. I would have normally rejoiced at the return of one of our brethren in these dangerous times, but it seems that he has sided with your champion too, my warnings be damned.

Even the wise cannot see all ends and that includes deities with foresight.

You have accused me of arrogance in my quest. You have accused me of perpetuating my grudge against Wyk to our collective detriment. Both accusations are true.

Neither point makes the things I have written to you unworthy of consideration.

I am being chased. Your friends from the Xenedar I suspect. I believe they're still lost, following a false trail I left for them on the island of Ibb. They'll be happier that way. I doubt they would have any inkling of what to do with me should they actually catch me.

Especially if I tell them who exactly you have been backing on this planet.

If anything I have said makes a glimmer of sense to you, I trust that you'll call them off. Or maybe you could astound me and ask them to do something productive for once.

The Void is ultimately a more dangerous threat to existence than Sargeras’ armies, after all, and like I said, the Great Other is finally stirring.

Regardless, I have never been dedicated to a more important purpose. You may find that hard to believe but despite our disagreements in the past, you cannot deny that the incredibly vast potential of this ascended mortal could easily make too much noise across the stars.

So, if we err in our judgments, the very pillars of the sky will shake with the results of the wars to come once the Third Long Night approaches...should this new god attract HIS unwanted attention to our world.

So, I ask again, R’hllor: Support me.

Do not let your faith in this clueless mortal blind you to the point you’ll let disaster consume our world. Use him to get him to release you from your prison if you must but do us all a favor and slay him the first chance you get. I've never begged you for something before in all the millennia we have known each other, old friend.

I do so now.

I truly hope this letter reached the confines of your prison and that we can reach an understanding..for our world's future may change considerably depending on what we ultimately decide.

Sincerely,

The Storm God that the Ironborn and their thrice damned Drowned God grew to fear, but better known to you as the Elemental Lord of Air native to Planetos.