Inside a spacious hall, two rows of bookshelves lined the walls. Several small tables were scattered about, and dozens of books lay strewn across the floor.
A girl with wild, curly hair and brown skin was hunched over a desk, writing intently while glancing at a tome open to her left.
To her right, at another small table, a silver-haired girl with noble features was engrossed in a book that appeared to be about history.
Near the scattered books, a young girl with a sickly complexion was happily picking them up one by one. She would glance at the cover, flip through a few pages, and then carefully set the book aside before reaching for another.
Beside her, a little black dragon bounded between the books, occasionally flapping its wings or flying directly above the brown-skinned girl's head to watch her write.
Bran's gaze was fixed on the little black dragon, following its movements. Just then, the dragon, which had just taken flight from the floor, stopped mid-air. It whipped its head around to stare directly at him.
*[If you dare keep staring at me like that, I'll kill you!]* A childish voice echoed from the little black dragon. Suddenly, a colossal, ferocious dragon's head materialized from the void, its immense pressure bearing down on Bran.
*Hiss!*
Bran's hand recoiled from the heart of the weirwood tree as if struck by lightning. A sudden, searing pain shot through his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe them, and when he pulled it away, his palm was covered in a wet, sticky substance. Through a crimson haze, he saw his hand was drenched in blood.
"My eyes!" Bran gasped, his voice trembling with terror.
"What did you see?" Brynden asked urgently, his own face pale. He had intended for Bran to explore the weirwood's secrets, but he never imagined it would leave him in such a state.
He had worked so hard to get Bran to accept the inheritance, to drink the weirwood seed porridge and awaken his Greenseer ability. If Bran were blinded now, and unable to walk, he feared the boy would be utterly broken—and his Greenseer talent would be wasted.
"I... I saw a little black dragon," Bran stammered, rubbing his eyes frantically with his sleeve. Only when he realized he could still see did he begin to calm down. He hesitated before adding, "And I saw that same little black dragon on the way here."
"A dragon?" Brynden's eyes widened. "But dragons are extinct!" He seemed more shocked by Bran's words than by the blood streaming from the boy's eyes.
"They've returned," Bran answered honestly. "The dragons have been reborn."
"My divine power is nearly exhausted; I could barely guide you here. To think a True Dragon has reappeared in the world... How is this possible? Tell me everything," Brynden said, trying to steady his racing heart.
Bran had only wanted to see the little black dragon he had encountered before, to understand why it had tried to kill him. He had managed to see it, but unexpectedly, the dragon had sensed his presence and struck him down. Now, his only hope was to tell the Three-Eyed Crow, Brynden, about the encounter and find answers.
"You're saying he harbored murderous intent toward you even back then?" Brynden asked, his brow furrowed after hearing Bran's account of meeting Drogon. He knew Bran's instincts wouldn't have deceived him.
A Green Seer's intuition was razor-sharp. Even if he hadn't fully awakened his powers at the time, his perceptions would never have been wrong.
"Tell me everything else you discovered after seeing him, including what you just witnessed!" Brynden insisted. He wouldn't rest until he understood why the little black dragon wanted to kill Bran.
Seeing Brynden's grave expression, Bran dared not conceal anything. This was a matter of life and death. He recounted every sensation he had felt when seeing Drogon and everything he had just witnessed.
"You say you felt a powerful pressure from him, and it grew stronger each time? How is that possible?" Brynden seemed to be asking Bran, yet he also appeared to be muttering to himself.
As a Green Seer, he was far more powerful than an ordinary priest. How could he have felt such overwhelming pressure from a little dragon? If the dragon had been fully grown, it might be possible. But it was still in its juvenile stage. How could it make Bran, a Green Seer, feel such immense pressure? It had even caused his eyes to bleed tears.
*Could it be...?* A possibility crossed Brynden's mind, but he dared not believe it. Yet, that was the only explanation for the pressure Bran had faced, and the reason the little black dragon had tried to kill him in the first place. It must have sensed something.
"The little black dragon said he'd 'again' look at him. Could there have been other Green Seers who visited him?" Bran added a reminder, noticing Brynden's expression shifting from turmoil back to normal.
"Green Seers are exceedingly rare. I was already incredibly lucky to find you before my death. How could there be other Green Seers?" Brynden said to Bran with a sigh.
There was one thing he kept to himself: if he hadn't used certain methods, he might never have met Bran, even if he had lived to his last breath.
"Then who else could have peered into the little black dragon's mind?" Bran couldn't imagine who else possessed such an ability besides a Green Seer.
Bran believed that Brynden, as a Green Seer, had also just heard about the True Dragon Rebirth for the first time, and that he probably hadn't lied to him about it.
Brynden didn't rush to answer Bran's question. Instead, he looked ahead, thought for a moment, and then said, "You should know that this world has the Old Gods and the New Gods. Besides them, there is the Lord of Light, the God of Darkness, the Many-Faced God of Braavos, the Drowned God of the Iron Islands, the God of the River Rhoyne..."
"We revere the Old Gods. The God of Darkness is also called the God of Cold, and the White Walkers you saw represent the God of Cold."
Bran never expected that not only were the old stories he'd heard from his grandmother true, but there were also so many beings he knew nothing about.
"Are they all real?" Bran still found it hard to believe everything this Three-Eyed Crow, Brynden, was saying.
Brynden glanced at Bran and couldn't help but sigh. *He's still just a child, after all. Even now, he refuses to believe they truly exist.*
"Although their followers don't possess Greenseeing like we do, some can still glimpse hints of the future through other means. Other Gods must have also sensed the little black dragon's anomaly."
"Why could he sense me?" Suppressing his shock at the existence of the Gods, Bran asked the question that had been troubling him.
"Dragons are the most powerful beings in this world," Brynden explained helplessly. "Even the gods are powerless against them. And you've only just awakened as a Green Seer—your abilities are still weak."
"But he's so small!" Bran's heart burned with resentment. Being threatened twice by a little black dragon was a bitter pill to swallow.
"He's no ordinary dragon," Brynden offered, his voice laced with a suspicion he dared not fully voice.
He worried that encountering such a formidable foe immediately after awakening his Greenseeing would leave Bran traumatized, a shadow cast over his young mind.
Seeing Bran open his mouth to ask more, Brynden hastily added, "You'll understand in time."
*Sigh...* he thought bitterly. *I'm afraid I'll never rest in peace now.*
The possibility gnawed at him, making him dread for Bran's future and the burden of the Green Seer's legacy.
"The dragon race possesses a powerful heritage," Brynden warned, fearing Bran might recklessly use his new gift. "Do not peer into their minds without caution. Some powerful beings can even interfere with reality through Greenseeing. You must be careful."
With the bloody scratch still stinging on his face, Bran could only nod silently.
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