Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord

The unique religious atmosphere of Braavos surrounded Gavin and Daenerys as they strolled along the winding paths between the temples. Each structure seemed to embody the spirit of its deity—some solemn and austere, others mysterious and cloaked in silence. Together, they painted a tapestry of faith unlike any other.

As they admired the architecture, a figure emerged from the shadows—a red-robed monk, his flowing crimson robes glinting faintly in the sunlight. His hood hung low, obscuring much of his face, yet his steady, deliberate steps exuded purpose.

Stopping a respectful distance away, the monk inclined his head and pressed his hands to his chest in a gesture of reverence. His voice was calm yet fervent as he addressed them.

"Dear Dragon King of Valyria, and noble lady, the high priest of my temple sends his sincere regards. He humbly invites you to the Red Temple."

Gavin and Daenerys exchanged a glance, their eyes mirroring a mix of surprise and unease.

Daenerys frowned slightly and looked to Gavin, silently deferring the decision to him. Gavin studied the monk for a moment, then nodded politely.

"We appreciate the high priest's invitation. We will accept it."

Gratitude softened the monk's features as he gestured toward the temple.

"This way, honored guests."

The pair followed the monk into the Red Temple, where a wave of heat and solemnity greeted them. The walls were constructed of deep, vivid red stone, their surfaces adorned with intricate carvings of fire and light—symbols that seemed to whisper tales of ancient power.

Majestic stone pillars stretched upward, wrapped in golden flame patterns that shimmered with an otherworldly glow. Above them, the dome loomed high and cavernous, its architecture awe-inspiring. Rows of red candles flickered all around, their light casting shadows that danced on the walls in a mesmerizing interplay.

The monk gestured toward their surroundings as he spoke with quiet reverence.

"This temple is dedicated to the Lord of Light, R'hllor. His flames illuminate the darkness and bring hope to the faithful. His power is boundless."

Daenerys, intrigued by the atmosphere and the legends surrounding the red priests, ventured to ask,

"They say the red-robed monks can control fire. Is that true?"

The monk nodded solemnly.

"Flame is the symbol of the Lord of Light's power. Through his blessing, we may command fire in moments of great need—not to boast, but to enact his divine will."

Their footsteps echoed softly on the passage paved with rich red carpets, the intricate embroidery of R'hllor's sigil catching Daenerys's eye. She traced its details with her gaze, captivated by the craftsmanship.

At last, they entered the grand hall. A colossal brazier stood at the center, its roaring flames licking the air with a ferocity that seemed alive. The intense heat radiating from the fire enveloped the room, making the space feel both oppressive and sacred.

Standing before the brazier was the high priest. His towering figure radiated authority, the firelight playing over his hooded face in flickering shadows. As Gavin and Daenerys approached, the high priest lowered his head in a deep bow.

Straightening, he spoke with measured tones, his gaze fixed intently on Gavin.

"Welcome, Dragon King of Valyria, and noble lady. I am Benesos, high priest of this temple. Tell me, have you heard the prophecy of Azor Ahai?"

Gavin's expression grew somber.

"I have heard fragments of it," he admitted.

Benesos nodded, his voice deepening as he recounted the legend.

"It is foretold that after the long summer, stars will weep blood, and the world will be cloaked in endless darkness. In that hour, a hero will emerge—a warrior who will draw the red sword of heroes, Lightbringer, from the fire. This champion, Azor Ahai reborn, will drive away the darkness and save the world."

Gavin tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I am familiar with this prophecy. But why bring it to me, Your Grace?"

Benesos's expression grew grave.

"Through our prayers and rituals, the Lord of Light grants us visions. In the flames, I saw the Northern Cold God stirring—its undead legion preparing to march south. I also saw your figure standing against the darkness. You may be the one destined to fulfill this prophecy."

Daenerys inhaled sharply, her gaze darting to Gavin, who remained impassive, his mind clearly racing.

Benesos stepped closer, his voice softening.

"The Lord of Light stands as the eternal enemy of the Cold God. Only by placing your faith in him can you hope to overcome this threat."

Gavin's expression hardened slightly.

"You ask me to forsake my belief in the Seven Gods and swear allegiance to R'hllor?"

Benesos inclined his head.

"The Seven are but false idols, Dragon King. There are only two true gods—the Lord of Light and the Cold God. At this critical juncture, embracing the Lord of Light is the only path to salvation."

Anger flickered briefly in Gavin's eyes.

"You speak boldly, High Priest, but your words show little respect for the beliefs of others. I will not abandon my faith on a whim. If that is your condition, we must take our leave."

Daenerys placed a calming hand on Gavin's arm and addressed the priest.

"Thank you for your explanation, Your Grace. We will consider what you've said, but we must depart now."

Before they could leave, Benesos raised a hand, producing a ruby from his robes—a gem that pulsed with an eerie, crimson light.

"Perhaps this will change your perspective. This gem contains a fragment of R'hllor's power. Touch it, and you will understand his might."

Gavin hesitated but reached out, brushing his fingers against the gem. A wave of energy surged through him—raw, immense, and tempting. For a moment, he felt as though the strength of a god was at his fingertips. Yet the unknown dangers of such power gnawed at his resolve.

He withdrew his hand and shook his head.

"I see the power you speak of, but I must tread carefully. This is not a decision to be made in haste."

Benesos sighed but bowed his head.

"As you wish, Dragon King. The Lord of Light will wait for you."

With that, Gavin and Daenerys left the temple, the red-robed monk escorting them back into the cool night. Though the air outside was refreshing, the weight of the encounter lingered heavily between them.