Chapter Text
The Mother had foreseen it. Her son, and the entire realm, were in danger. Images of death and darkness swallowing all of Westeros, snuffing out life as they knew it. The dreams had been haunting her for weeks. Rising out of bed, she quickly dressed and gathered her composure. I must warn the others of the impending danger, she thought to herself as she left her chambers.
She called upon the other gods of the Seven and they met in their solar. They were all quiet as she explained the visions that came to her over the past moon. Once she was finished, they stared at her in disbelief.
“You mean to say you woke me to share nothing more than the nightmares that have plaguing you?” the Warrior questioned. “If that is all, please let me return to my chambers.”
“I promise you this is real! This is not just the nightmares of a frightened child,” she pleaded. “My son and our people are in danger!”
The Father slammed a fist down on the table. “I will not allow you to parade us around on some wild goose chase just because you had a frightening dream and now you fear for the life of your spawn, a man who shouldn’t have been born in the first place. You know it is forbidden to lay with mortals!” he spat.
“Please,” the Mother begged, searching the eyes of the other deities around the table. “This is not just about my child. This is about the people who worship us! Without them, there will be no more prayer, no more sacrifices in the name of the Gods. We will cease to exist.”
“Silence!” Everyone turned to look at the wizened Crone as she rose from her seat. “The Mother is right. I too have been plagued by these visions. I see nothing but evil, darkness, and death. The light of Westeros will disappear. And with it, we shall disappear too.”
“What can we do?” the Smith asked. “We cannot meddle in the lives of humans. It is far too dangerous. We are not allowed to tamper with the balance of light and dark. It is up to the mortals to choose between the two.”
They all sat in silence.
“What if…there was a way we could help?” came an ominous voice from the corner of the room. The Stranger came forward into the light. It had its hood up, covering its facial features.
“What are you suggesting, Stranger?” the Warrior asked.
“There is nothing in this time or reality that can help our people,” it began. “But perhaps, someone from another time can. A unique soul who can be brought to our reality.”
“We simply cannot displace a life, there has to be balance!” the Father exclaimed. “Souls cannot be yanked about without any care for lives lost and futures broken. Balance and reason must be maintained.”
“Yes,” the Mother agreed. “But, what if this soul is coming to the end of life in their current reality? Someone who’s life was ended before their time?”
The Crone rubbed her wrinkled chin, considering. “I believe that could work.”
“All in favor?” the Stranger looked around the table.
All of the Seven raised their hands.
"It is decided,” the Father said. “Mother, you shall find this soul and transport it here. They will be your responsibility. See that they don’t fail us. I would hate to bring an innocent soul here to have them fail in their mission and lose their second chance at a new beginning. Our fate, and the fate of our people, rests on their shoulders.”
The Mother nodded. “I will begin the search straight away.”
The Maiden, who had been silent up until now, and the Crone left the table to join her. “We will help you,” they said in unison. The three figures left the solar and headed for the Mother’s chambers.
***
The Goddesses had decided to meet in the forest running parallel to the castle. They walked until they came upon a clearing filled with beautiful wildflowers. Stopping in the middle of the meadow, the Mother, the Maiden, and the Crone faced each other and joined hands. Power swirled around them, causing the birds, newly awakened by dawn, to squawk in alarm and leave their perches in the trees.
“We need someone not of this time, not of this place,” the Crone began. “Someone who has a unique way of seeing people and situations, who embraces light instead of darkness, and who will not be swayed with power or greed.”
“We must find someone who possesses the strength of women,” the Mother continued.
“Someone pure and beautiful,” the Maiden finished. “Someone courageous and willing to protect the innocent.”
They raised their arms, and the morning mist thickened around them, swirling magically as if anticipating their spell. Their voices rang out in unison:
From the depths we call our power,
Hear us at this hour.
Our will is to find a unique soul,
An outlander is our goal.
Bring us a mortal,
Through our divine portal.
Her fate must mean she is free,
Her life thread broken so she may come to thee.
Her mind sharp and true,
Wiling to see the world anew.
Encroaching darkness she will cure,
Life and love are her allure.
The Maiden and the Crone became quiet and stepped away. The Mother said the final words to bring the spell to life, since this soul would be her responsibility alone.
It is her soul my thread will find,
With strength of the Mother and love I bind!
Now go! Do my will!
My command you must fulfill!
A ball of light began building in between her hands as she said the final words. The mother threw her arms wide and hurled her will, her power, and her divine magic up and into the sky. Instantly, the sky changed from a deep sapphire blue to a silver so bright that had a mortal been unlucky enough to glimpse the transformation, they would have been forever blinded by its brilliance.
The mist swirled around the Mother and then tendrils of light began to lift. Fingers of radiance snaked over her hands, thin and searching.
“Go!” the Mother shouted her command impatiently, and the threads of light lifted, and then shot off into the morning sky to disappear from this reality to times unseen and places unknown.