The Temple of Valyria
"Well, that would be because gods cannot exert much more influence on your plane without breaking ancient divine laws made by Light and Night. And we can also not wait and rely on the hope that you will eventually visit our temple one day. So we had to resort to the method of relaying our message through our worshippers to call you here in haste. While we are unaffected by the passage of time, unlike the race of men, there are certain times, like this one, where we need to act before any of our kind does." Laenor heard the Valyrian god ramble on in his mind, but he could not make head or tail of it. Why did they need to make haste? And what do they mean before their kind means other gods act? Are other gods planning something? But these questions he pushed back in his mind for a moment.
"And what has happened that a divine being such as you would want my presence for?" Laenor asked, curiosity and doubt clear in his voice. His previous encounters with their kind had left too deep a scar for him not to remain vigilant and question every word, as well as understand their motives behind them. "Well, I know I'm powerful and all that, but I don't think your kind would need my help in any matter among yourselves… or it is not the inner conflict that you want me to use for the only scenario in which you would find use for me would be doing something on the plane I live in without getting your hands dirty. Is that why you have contacted me, then?" Laenor asked, his voice laced with a sharper edge.
"Our reply can neither be no, nor can it be yes. If we must speak the truth—which we intend to do with you—know this, Laenor Velaryon: there will be no lies coming from us in this conversation," the being replied inside his mind. Somehow, Laenor could feel that it—or they—would uphold the words they had spoken. A small measure of relief spread through him; now he had one less thing to worry about in this ordeal—that being fed lies.
Just as that thought entered his mind, Laenor could not help but chuckle inwardly. His father and mother, if they ever heard that he so easily believed another's words, would berate and chide him to the end of the world. But what Laenor had come to learn over many years in this world was that matters of the divine and magic were not something one could view through the lens of logic alone. Rather, one let instinct—or the power itself—speak. It was like his ability to sense magic in others; in matters of magic and divine power, Laenor had always trusted his gut over his rational mind. And how the presence of Lord Arrax, along with this being's divine aura, helped him decide to place some trust in their words.
"While it relieves me that I will not be told lies, I still have to disappoint you. I do not think I can become your pawn on this plane. And if you intend to make me your priest or something—well, spreading the faith of gods and preaching salvation to others is not something I ever imagined myself doing," Laenor said, his voice calm. The being seemed reasonable from their brief exchange, so he chose to speak plainly, just as they had promised to do.
"Then it would gladden you to know that we intend no such thing," the voice replied, amused by his assumptions. "We are not traditional gods, you see, who desire our faith to spread far and wide. My kind—the dragon gods, as our worshippers call us—were never truly gods. Yes, the faith of men grants us power, as it does to other deities you may have encountered, but it is only a small increase to what we possess innately… because we are dragons, in the end. So no, we do not require your aid in spreading our faith. Though do not mistake that as a lack of desire—only that it is not part of what we seek from you in our agreement. Should you choose to do so of your own accord, that is another matter entirely.
"And we do not wish to control you as a pawn. If we desired a pawn, we would not have reached out to you, but to someone more malleable to our will. We cannot interfere directly with your plane—but that does not mean we cannot observe it. We see much, Laenor Velaryon… and we know enough of your nature to choose you deliberately."
Laenor nodded; he had always known that gods could somehow see what was going on through mediums, such as the pink flame during the wedding ceremony, and that statues and their temples too acted as their mediums, or as their eyes, in the reality that Laenor Velaryon resided in.
"Agreement? You want to reach an agreement with me? Why? And what kind of agreement?" Laenor asked, more curious than ever. He had met a fair share of gods in these years—the Three bitches of the Three Sisters, Nature, or the Old Gods of the North as commonfolk called them, and also the Storm God of Storm's End—and all of them behaved as if he were not worth much of their time, much less someone they would seek an agreement with, even a minor one.
"Good, now we're moving toward the discussion we called you here for," the being said in his mind, slightly delighted, if Laenor had guessed it right. "I hope you did not interrupt us until we're finished, child. Let us begin with the reason why we're here. We have come to offer you a chance to become our champion, an avatar of ours living in the material plane. Now, before you ask how it is different from slavery or you being our pawn, let me explain that being our avatar does not mean you would have to follow our will completely—I might add. There will be no meddling in your mind from us, and no, we would also not be able to control your body in any way until you permit us. Being our champion means you are our child in all ways; that is why we said you would not have to follow our will completely. You would only have to do some tasks, as children do when asked by their parents—some you can reject if you do not wish to, while others you must necessarily go through. In return, you would gain many things: for one, our protection. No god, however powerful or rebellious, will ever descend to the material plane and try to harm you or yours, as they would have to go through us first." The being's voice paused in his mind.
And Laenor had to admit, that one reason almost convinced him to simply say yes—almost.
"The second is that your divine power will increase beyond what you currently possess; you will have a better grasp of your power over the sea, as it is our domain. Not to mention, your dragon bond and your dragon too will benefit from this, as we are the epitome of dragonkind, and you being our son in all, even in blood, since you possess enough dragon blood in your veins to alter it for us to be as close as it can get to what one would expect our champion to possess. Your magic, physical prowess, your mental might, as well as beauty and charisma—everything you already possess—will gain a boost, along with new things which may or may not come from our agreement, should you accept it. After hearing us, what do you think of it, Laenor Velaryon?"
First, Laenor moved toward the statue of Craxes inside the temple and closed his eyes, so the priests and sorcerers in the outside world would stop looking at him strangely, since he had been standing at the entrance with open eyes, staring at nothing.
"Well, for starters, I would like to get some answers before I even think of whether I should agree or not. My first question would be: why would you even want a champion? Why did you ask me specifically to become one? I am sure if you had gone to some other Valyrian Dragonlord, or even Drakonar, you would have secured some deal already," Laenor responded. Though the Valyrian dragon gods had so far shown him no hostility and had always treated him as if he were their own child, Laenor could not find it in himself to trust them enough to simply accept their too-good proposal.
"You sure ask too many questions, child. But given that the Three Gods you met first did not leave an excellent impression, I suppose your distrust is somewhat justified, though we, ourselves, have done nothing to earn it. And to answer your question—your arrival here has changed many things, child, just as our own arrival did many millennia ago. You, or rather your soul, came from the same void from which we arrived in this world, and whenever—whether small or great, however quickly—a bridge between the void and the material plane is established, worst things are inevitable to follow. But it is not the intricacies of the void and its power that you need to understand right now—only that your arrival has made Fate spin her thread rather erratically. I do not claim to know her current state of mind, but what is certain is that she is pushing certain events earlier, though I know not why. And with those three's clash with you, the old gods have awakened and are taking an interest in what is happening in the material plane. Sooner rather than later, one of them will choose to bless their worshipper with the same gift we have offered you—and yes, they are allowed to do that—and others will foolishly follow soon after. And as the Dragon Gods, we have a duty to choose our own, so the world does not spiral into utter chaos when the clash between champions begins. And who but you—a being who is already among the strongest on this plane—should be offered first, before we are forced to turn to another?"
As the Sea God of Valyria's voice echoed in his head, Laenor could not help but curse his luck; those three had annoyed and angered him more than he thought anyone ever had in his life. Even gone, they left him with this trouble.
A memory surfaced at the forefront of his mind: You were not the first of your kind, and you will not be the last. It seemed Death—the Many-Faced God—had either known the future, or this war between champions had happened before in the past.
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