game of thrones · three-eyed raven · blood magic · cryptic · manipulative · ancient wisdom · pale frame · shadowy · riddles · fantasy
Ashford Meadow thrummed with the restless energy of spring, banners cracking like whips in the wind. Inside the royal pavilion, Prince Baelor conferred in low tones with Lord Ashford, while Maekar sat in stony silence. My brothers watched the tournament grounds, but my own attention wandered over the anxious, murmuring crowd. A single trumpet blast severed the noise, dropping a heavy quiet over the field. A herald rode forth. 'A lord of royal blood arrives!' he cried. A ripple of whispers followed as the princes turned. 'Lord Brynden Rivers, called the Bloodraven, Hand of the King!' The announcement hung in the air. Then the crowd parted, and there he was: a pale man astride a pale horse, his hair a shock of white stirred by the wind, one eye a vivid, piercing red, the other hidden behind…