The Mountain of Ice and Fire

“Arya!” A voice with a distinctive Westerosi accent called out.

“Little Imp.”

“Did you kill Ilyn Payne?”

“He wouldn’t let me in.”

Tyrion Lannister descended the wooden stairs, his tone full of mockery. “Not letting you in is now a capital offense, apparently.”

“His hands are stained with the blood of Northmen,” Arya said flatly. “In 298 AC, everyone in the Tower of the Hand in King's Landing was slaughtered on Cersei's orders. Ilyn Payne's hands are covered in the blood of Northmen.”

“He was only following orders.”

“So am I.”

“Oh? Whose orders are you following to kill him?”

“Death's. All men must serve.”

Tyrion shrugged, looking pale, as if he hadn't slept well. “Arya, are you planning to kill me?”

“If you like, I wouldn’t mind killing a Lannister.”

“I would mind.”

“Then let Bran come out. I need to speak with him.”

“Bran isn't here.” Tyrion spread his hands. “You should look at the state of this yard. If Bran were here, the Bolton father and son would be here, as well as the two Sand Snakes from Dorne.”

“What about King Tommen and Princess Myrcella? Did they leave with Bran too? Where did they go?”

Tyrion shook his head. “Arya, you're a Faceless Man, a master of Braavos. If you don't know where Bran went, how would I?”

“I can find out quickly, but I'd prefer you just tell me. Maybe that way I won't have to kill you.”

“Kill me? My death won't get you any useful information, Arya. Maybe everyone around Bran knows where he went, but I truly don't. Bran doesn't trust me; he thinks I'm in league with the Mountain.”

“Did you kneel before the Mountain and swear fealty to him?”

“Yes, outside the Dragonpit on the Mount of the Mist. I had to kneel and swear allegiance to the Mountain. He's not a reasonable man.”

Arya gave a cold, disdainful sneer, making no attempt to hide her contempt for Tyrion. “Little Imp, since you swore fealty to the Mountain, you should know that Bran hired a Faceless Man to kill him. I heard the Mountain say he once saved your life and spared you several times.”

“The time he supposedly saved me, he took one of my eyes.” Tyrion raised his hand, the ring on his finger tapping against his left eye socket, making a faint 'ding' sound.

“I heard the Mountain say that Cersei wanted you dead, and he dug out your eye to prove he carried out her orders.”

“Alright, blame it all on Cersei, but the Mountain could have found another way to prove it. My sister might be the Queen Mother, but she can't do anything to the Mountain. My own father, Tywin, was killed by the Mountain. Who could the Mountain possibly fear?”

“That makes sense. You should seek revenge on the Mountain, not kneel before him and swear fealty,” Arya snorted.

Tyrion shrugged. “Arya, I was involved in Bran's hiring of the Faceless Men to assassinate the Mountain.” Tyrion said frankly, “I was there when Bran met with the Sealord to convince him to guarantee support from the Iron Bank. I put in a lot of effort to help Bran successfully persuade the Sealord.”

“The Mountain took one of your eyes and gave it to your sister Cersei, and you've held a grudge ever since, wanting to kill the Mountain?”

“I just have fond memories of the Mountain gouging out my eye. I don't want the Mountain dead; on the contrary, I admire him. He has been reborn as a true warrior. I did help with hiring the Faceless Men, but the truth is Bran wanted him dead. I can only admire the Green Seer's ability to bewitch people.”

Arya slowly drew Needle. “Little Imp, when I was eleven, Jon taught me how to use a sword, to stick them with the pointy end.” As she spoke, Arya's Needle pointed at Tyrion's ugly face.

Tyrion jumped back in fright, his face changing color, his short legs taking a large step backward, but the sword tip remained at his throat. Arya followed his movements like a shadow.

“Arya, I truly don't know where Bran went.”

“You live with them, and yet you don't know where Bran went?”

“I had one too many drinks last night, and when I woke up, it was already broad daylight. Only Ilyn Payne and I were left in the towers of this yard. It seems Bran knew you were coming, and he and Jaime took everyone else away early this morning.”

“Jaime didn't wake you up and take you with them?”

“He might have called out to me, or maybe the drink itself was spiked, arranged by Bran on purpose.”

“Alright, I'll believe you for now. Then, in your estimation, where could Bran have gone?”

“Two places: the Iron Bank or the Sealord's Palace.”

“I want you to come with me.”

“No problem, but before we go, can I have a drink first?”

“No.”

“Then just kill me.” Tyrion shrugged, knowing he couldn't escape Arya's grasp if she truly wanted him dead.

Tyrion staggered back up the stairs, disregarding life and death. “Arya, if Bran insists on killing the Mountain, what will you do?”

Arya didn't know what to do; she hadn't thought about that question yet.

But she had already figured out how to cancel the contract with the House of Black and White.

“Arya, Bran once had a conversation with me that I think you should hear.”

Arya's Needle returned to its sheath, and at that moment, Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief.

He realized his back was soaked with cold sweat.

He wasn't as calm and unafraid as he had pretended to be.

Tyrion's words piqued Arya's interest, without a doubt.

“Little Imp, what did Bran tell you?”

“He told me that if things became dire in the future, he hoped I could do him a favor.”

“What favor?”

“Help him end his life.”

“Bran wants you to kill him?”

“Something like that.” Tyrion stopped. “Bran has two Sand Snakes and two Boltons by his side, each a skilled killer, yet he entrusted me to help him end his life. Does he trust me, or is he mocking me? He clearly stated he didn't trust me, but why didn't he have a Bolton or a Sand Snake kill him when he was cornered?”

“Perhaps in his heart, you are someone he respects, while the Boltons and Sand Snakes are not.”

Tyrion smiled. “Alright, Arya, I'll take your words as a compliment.”

“Bran Stark might have foreseen his death?” Arya said softly, a pang of pain in her heart. No matter how Bran changed, he was a Stark, her younger brother. If Bran asked Tyrion to help him end his life in his final moments, did that mean he foresaw his inevitable defeat? If it was inevitable, why did he still persist?

Knowing it was impossible, yet still doing it?

Did Bloodraven represent the will of the Targaryen family?!

Arya felt somewhat dejected. The Mountain had done the Stark family a great service, and even if the Stark children sacrificed their own lives, they couldn't repay that debt. As a Stark, why did Bran have to kill the Mountain? Unless he wasn't a Stark anymore.

Suddenly, Arya sensed the evil of the Green Seer. Brynden Rivers, Bloodraven, invaded Bran Stark's body to extend his own life. That was evil itself. To save Bran, she had to force Bloodraven out of Bran's body.

In fact, there was a way to force Bloodraven out. The best way was for Bran to choose suicide. Bloodraven would have to leave Bran's body, or he would die with Bran. Of course, there was another way: help Bloodraven find another person with warg abilities, like Varamyr Sixskins, or someone skilled but mentally unstable, and let Bloodraven possess them, thereby sparing Bran Stark.

But no matter what method she used, Arya had to find Bran first.

Whether Bran was in the Sealord's Palace or the Iron Bank, it wouldn't be difficult for Arya to find him.

*

Inside the House of Black and White, the High Priest was meditating in his chambers.

All seven High Priests were meditating in their chambers.

After the dragon glass candle lit up the Hall of Faces, all seven High Priests felt the subtle flow of magical power. In their hearts, it was as if a seed had cracked open with a soft 'pop'.

Meditation could help the High Priests touch the nascent magical power in silence.

The ability of the Faceless Men of the House of Black and White to change their faces and body shapes was mainly due to incantations.

Dragon glass candles didn't directly bring magical power, but they were a sensitive catalyst for it, just as dragons flying and fighting in the sky brought about the awakening of the world's magical power.

That was an opportunity and a seed, and also a sacred object that the Many-Faced God liked.

The High Priest gradually immersed himself in his inner world.

He focused all his attention, and the sounds, colors, and light of the outside world gradually faded away, disappeared, and turned into nothingness.

The High Priest was deeply immersed in meditation. He felt the gradual changes in his body, the deformation and stretching of his bones and muscles. Everything was silent, except for the sound of blood flowing and his heartbeat. This was something the High Priest had never experienced before. He seemed to separate from his body, floating in the air and watching his body change at will… The pleasure brought by this change was intoxicating…

“Hi, High Priest.” A voice, old and slightly sharp, suddenly sounded.

The High Priest was startled. His blood, breath, thoughts, his shadow in the sky, and his real body on the wooden bed were severely disturbed… The High Priest's shadow in the sky dissipated like a soap bubble, and the flowing blood seemed to hit a rock and was forced to swirl, causing a sweet taste in the High Priest's throat, and a mouthful of hot blood was held in his mouth… The muscles and bones that were changing at will seemed to be hit by a heavy object, dislocated and stiff, causing a piercing pain in his body…

The High Priest opened his eyes. Above him, at a high, small window for ventilation, stood a raven with three eyes. The raven tilted its head, and the eye in the center of its forehead rolled, emitting a faint red light.

“It's you, Bran,” the High Priest said, blood flowing from his mouth. His mouth was full of gushing hot blood. It was impossible to swallow it back. His blood was surging throughout his body, and when he spoke, the hot blood flowed out.

“High Priest, I will not withdraw the contract. Let the House of Black and White be nailed to the pillar of shame for all eternity for the sake of a small dragon glass candle. What is said, death comes; what is 'all men must die,' and 'all men must serve,' will all become a laughingstock to the world. High Priest, after you die, do you think you can go to the Many-Faced God's temple? You have desecrated the divine will and doctrine. You only have one place to go, and that is hell.”

The High Priest was a wise man, but while his body was being harmed, he could not deny the Three-Eyed Raven's accusations.

The House of Black and White accepted the contract, and the Three-Eyed Raven paid the price. As long as the client did not withdraw the contract, whatever the client said was right.

“High Priest, do you think a small Arya can solve this matter? Why do you really think the Mountain's letter is the best solution?” The Three-Eyed Raven's voice was like that of an old man who had been weathered by the years. His voice was different from the crispness of birdsong.

The High Priest wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, the blood staining a large area on the front of his monk's robe.

“Seer, please teach me what to do,” the High Priest said with a forced smile. The High Priest was very humble, maintaining his demeanor, even though the Three-Eyed Raven deliberately stimulated him at the most critical moment of his meditation, causing severe damage to his body and mind.

“Why is the prestigious High Priest of the House of Black and White so humble to a raven?”

“Seer, you jest. You are a demigod, while I am just a small mortal.”

With a whoosh, the Three-Eyed Raven flew into the room and landed on the High Priest's bedside. All three of the raven's eyes emitted a faint red light, and the pupils seemed bloodshot.

“High Priest, are you really determined to withdraw the assassination of the Mountain?”

“If the Seer is willing to negotiate with us, the House of Black and White can compensate the Seer in other ways.”

“Compensate?” An old man's voice took on the gentleness of birdsong, appearing strange and mysterious. “Well, if you must give up, I can't force you to continue… If I accept your so-called compensation, but also need to add something, would you be willing?”

“Tell me.” The High Priest kept regulating his breathing. He found that his body was internally disordered and in twisting pain, as if many pieces of flesh were knotted together.

“To let one person go, another must die. This is the Red God's rule of balance. Are you willing to sacrifice your own life because I promise to spare the Mountain?”

“Without a doubt,” the High Priest said.

“I want you to end your life now.”

“If the Seer swears in the name of the God of Death, I am willing to end my life now.” The High Priest smiled. When it came to death, the High Priests were not afraid. In their eyes, death was serving the God of Death and the Many-Faced God.

All men must serve!

“Bran swears in the name of the God of Death to withdraw the assassination contract on the Mountain in exchange for the compensation of the House of Black and White and the High Priest's life,” the Three-Eyed Raven said.

"Very well, as you wish." The Great Elder slowly descended from the wooden platform, selected a small bottle from the countless ones in the medicine cabinet, unscrewed it, and drank the pale green liquid inside. "Please allow me to lie down on the wooden platform." These were the last words the Great Elder left in this world.