Viserys showed a timely confused expression: "Long Night? Winter? But it's clearly summer now, and the maesters say it will be a long time before the season changes."
"Appearances are always deceptive. Beyond the North, Winter is awakening." Bloodraven's voice became urgent, "You must go North, beyond The Wall. There, you can gain the power to fight the darkness."
"Beyond The Wall?" Viserys shook his head violently, like a frightened child, "No! What else is beyond The Wall besides savage wildlings, man-eating giants, and cold that can crack bones? I don't want to go to that ghostly place. I want to stay here and learn excellent swordsmanship from Ser Barristan, and become a great knight in the future."
"Swordsmanship?" Bloodraven's tone was mocking, "How can swordsmanship fight Winter? What you need is an older power. The legacy of the Greenseer can make you know all things. Although I cannot see through you, I acknowledge your bloodline, and I believe you should inherit this power and responsibility."
Here it comes. Viserys's heart stirred, but on the surface, he just blinked in confusion: "Greenseer? It sounds like some kind of forest witchcraft. I believe in the Faith of the Seven, how could I learn the ways of the Old Gods?"
"This is magic, child," Bloodraven patiently explained, "one of the oldest powers. It allows you to see through the eyes of the weirwood, to immerse your consciousness in the dreams of birds and beasts and roam with them, and even to capture fragmented reflections of the past and future cast in the river of time."
Viserys pretended to be swayed: "Magic? Like our Targaryen ancestors riding dragons? Can I really learn it?"
"Dragons are the magic of blood and fire, the ultimate in destruction and rebirth. And the Greenseer is the magic of roots and earth, the eternity of perception and memory. But tracing back to their origins, they all belong to the same mysterious source."
The raven's third eye on Bloodraven's shoulder suddenly lit up, "Close your eyes, feel this forest. Don't look with your eyes, feel with your heart, perceive everything here with the tendrils of your soul."
Viserys closed his eyes as instructed, but remained highly vigilant. He did not fully relax his body and mind to follow Bloodraven's guidance, but instead tried to perceive and mobilize the soul power from another world deep within his own soul.
At first, he felt only darkness, but as he concentrated and tried to mobilize the perception of energy deep within his soul, the world around him began to present itself in a new form:
The giant weirwood was no longer just a tree; it became a deep, warm, red and white light cluster, as if containing countless faint whispers and sighs.
That was the accumulation of memories spanning thousands of years; the warm snow underfoot, however, presented itself as a cold, almost transparent blue light cluster, like the deathly stillness of all things; even in the air, countless tiny, vibrant green light spots floated, which was the purest energy emanating from life itself.
"I... I think I saw some colors..." he murmured softly, this time not entirely feigning. This wondrous visual experience truly shocked him.
A hint of surprise flashed in Bloodraven's red eye: "Faster than I imagined. Now, try to capture those green lights with your will."
Viserys tried again to communicate with those green light spots. At first, these light spots scattered like frightened fish, but as he held his breath and concentrated, the light spots slowly began to converge towards him. A cool stream of consciousness flowed through his mind, and at the same time, he vaguely heard the chirping of distant birds, not through his ears, but appearing directly in his mind.
"Very good." Bloodraven's voice carried a hint of fatigue, "But this is just the beginning. To truly master this power, you still need..."
"Do I need to roll my eyes?" Viserys suddenly opened his eyes and interrupted, his face full of childlike curiosity, "I heard that wizards roll their eyes when casting spells. They roll their eyeballs back, leaving only the whites, and they look incredibly silly."
Bloodraven was clearly choked by these abrupt words, and even the raven on his shoulder almost lost its footing. He opened his good eye and stared intently at Viserys.
"Nonsense!" Bloodraven's voice carried an offended anger.
So he's angry, huh? It seems this old monster's composure hasn't been fully cultivated yet.
Viserys stopped fooling around and instead re-engaged his consciousness to communicate with the light spots in the air, let's call them elements for now. He merged his consciousness with the elements and reached out towards the nearest weirwood.
In an instant, a torrent of complex information rushed into his mind: a snow-covered forest, blurry figures dancing around a huge bonfire, the towering Wall glowing with a cold blue light... countless fragmented images crowded into his consciousness. He groaned, his face pale, and quickly cut off the connection.
But he knew that he had initially grasped magic, and had even cast the Green Sight.
"You..." For the first time, shock appeared in Bloodraven's red eyes, "Just now you..."
Viserys didn't wait for him to finish, immediately covered his head, and groaned with exaggerated acting: "My head hurts so much! So many voices are calling! I'm not learning anymore!"
Bloodraven stared intently at him, the red light in his single eye flickering violently. After a long silence, he slowly spoke: "Your talent is extraordinary. But this power needs guidance, otherwise it will backfire on its master. You need a complete inheritance. Go North..."
"I don't want to go North." Viserys pouted like a petulant child, "I already have a feeling for this magic. What right does a bastard exiled by his family have to command me?" Before he finished speaking, Viserys used the ability he had just learned to unilaterally cut off the connection, giving Bloodraven no time to react.
King's Landing, The Red Keep
Viserys suddenly sat up in bed, the sky outside the window faintly lit. He was drenched in cold sweat, and his temples were still throbbing, but his pale purple eyes burned with excitement.
Hey, not only was he fine, but he had benefited from misfortune, learning a bit of the Greenseer's abilities. And he had already mastered the method, so he could slowly explore these abilities on his own, without having to go North to receive the memories of past Greenseers.
Viserys looked out the window, and the excitement he felt from glimpsing the doorway to magic quickly cooled. Greenseer? He remembered Bran Stark from the original novel, who eventually sat in a wheelchair, eyes vacant, always saying "we."
Was that still Bran? He was probably already marinated by that old monster Bloodraven's thousands of years of memories, becoming a container filled with ancient stories.
"Inheritance?" Viserys twitched the corner of his mouth, revealing a hint of mockery. Nicely put, but wasn't it just finding a young body to stuff his own moldy memories into, to continue clinging to life?
He now swallowed the memories of five-year-old Viserys without much burden, after all, he was an adult. But if it were the other way around, if he were washed over by a flood of thousands of years of memories, how much of his own consciousness would be left? At that time, bearing the name "Viserys" but thinking the thoughts of a "Greenseer," what would be the difference from being dead again?
Anyway, getting the benefits now was enough.
As for those historical memories smelling of dirt and weirwood, let them be for that fool of a Stark who longed for a "great destiny."
He was quite satisfied with his current small life and the thoughts belonging to "Lin Feng" in his mind; there was no need to rush to be someone else's vessel..
Moreover, Bloodraven still held the Targaryen Family's ancestral valyrian steel sword—Dark Sister.
When he eventually counter-attacks Westeros, he must first go to him to retrieve this sword. For now, he'll just let him keep it.
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