Sincerity?
That aged voice echoed in Lynn's mind, carrying cautious probing.
Seeing Lynn's body relax—
The three-eyed raven on the ground finally withdrew its humble posture.
It straightened its body, recovering some dignity befitting an ancient existence.
The atmosphere—no longer one-sided judgment and oppression.
An equality based on mutual wariness quietly established between man and raven.
"That's right. Sincerity."
Lynn's voice—calm.
He reached out, soothingly scratching the chin of Winter's left glacial-blue head. Cold scales transmitted hard texture.
That head rubbed comfortably against his palm, throat releasing faint purrs—like a strange cat.
"Since this is cooperation, you need to offer something tangible."
Lynn's gaze returned to the raven.
"My conditions are simple. Three things."
He raised one finger.
"First, I need weapons."
"The two Brynden Rivers used."
Lynn clearly felt the raven's three eyes lock onto him.
"The Valyrian steel sword—Dark Sister."
"And that weirwood longbow."
Lynn enunciated each word.
The raven's body froze.
These two weapons—Brynden Rivers' most dazzling identity symbols as Targaryen prince and Hand of the King.
The glory accompanying his life. His only connection to the past after exile to the Wall.
He loved these weapons.
Long silence.
"...Acceptable."
After a long pause, that aged voice finally forced out those words—as if exhausting all strength.
"They're buried beside my rotting bones, north of the Wall. I'll have the White Walkers deliver them outside the walls."
"Good."
Lynn's face showed no expression. He raised a second finger.
"Second matter."
"I need you to make the Night King stop all his actions."
This statement made the raven's blood-red eye flash with confusion.
Lynn ignored it, continuing.
"Not only that—I want him constantly creating wights for me."
"At designated times. Designated locations."
"So my people can harvest them."
In Lynn's consciousness—deathly silence.
The raven—as if struck by lightning—every feather exploded for an instant. It even instinctively stepped back.
It couldn't believe what it heard.
Use the undead army capable of destroying the world as... practice tools?
What does he take the terrifying Night King for?
What is this man thinking?!
"Third."
Lynn gave it no chance to object, raising his third finger directly.
"I need greensight and skinchanging abilities."
"But—" Lynn's tone suddenly intensified.
"I only want the ability to see the past. I don't want your memories. I especially don't want your millennia-old moldy, rotten consciousness polluting my mind."
Three conditions—each harsher than the last.
Each more absurd than the last.
Especially the second and third.
One—using the undead army for practice and sharpening.
The other—completely castrating the Greenseer inheritance's core.
The room fell into prolonged silence again.
Winter also seemed to sense this heavy atmosphere. Three little heads quieted, simply watching Lynn and that strange raven with differently colored eyes.
"The second condition—I cannot do."
Bloodraven's voice finally returned, carrying unprecedented gravity.
"You're oversimplifying the Night King."
"The Ice Magic within him isn't inexhaustible."
"That's power he's accumulated nearly a millennium—to march south in one stroke, bringing winter to all Westeros."
"Every wight conversion, every large-scale magic use—consumes his already limited reserves."
"Making him stop and endlessly create targets for you would completely disrupt his millennia-long plan. Expose him prematurely to everyone's view."
"Then neither of us gains anything!"
Bloodraven's voice paused, seemingly organizing words.
Trying to make this madman understand the logic.
"Though he's also me, we're two individuals—just with the same memories."
"He won't agree. I can't force him."
"As for your third condition..."
The Three-Eyed Raven's voice lost some hardness, gained some consideration.
"Separating greensight from memories... unprecedented attempt."
"Very dangerous."
"Without those memories as landmarks, you might lose yourself in time's torrent. Unable to precisely return to past nodes."
"But I can help you."
The Three-Eyed Raven's posture—very low.
"The first and third—I can agree to both."
"I believe this sufficiently proves my sincerity."
Lynn listened quietly.
He knew the other wasn't lying.
Perpetual motion machines don't exist anywhere.
The Night King's power has limits too.
"Then what are YOUR conditions?" Lynn asked.
"You went through all this trouble—offering dragon eggs, offering horns. Surely not charity?"
"I want you to unite Westeros."
Bloodraven's voice—in this moment—recovered that ancient vastness and majesty.
"I want you to sit on that Iron Throne."
"I need a unified realm. A unified army. A supreme king."
"Only then can we face the true enemy when the Long Night comes."
The Three-Eyed Raven—with that blood-red eye—stared hard at Lynn.
"The Cold God."
"That's our common enemy."
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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