It had been a days journey from the last village to this one, both were filthy collections of windowless hovels made of compact mud and straw designed to keep their residents cool even in the summer's heat - no all the villages in this queer land had been such. This land this "Dorne" was certainly not Asshai, though strangers found as much welcome in this inhospitable patchwork of desert and barren coastlines as they did in the lands of the Shadow. Quaithe was clearly marked as a foreigner by her strange silken and crimson dress, her thick accent of unknown origin as far as the Dornish peasantry were concerned, and even the way she carried herself and looked.. but that wouldn't stop her from serving her Lord.
This land was not hers but she had a grand purpose for her being here, the Lord of Light shepherds all men and he had not brought her here to this far off and queer land without reason. Her mission was set clearly before her, to break up the strength of the Great Other in this land called Westeros but judging by the "sept" in every village this would be easier said than done.
As the night settled in she began to gather her supplies wood and brush to start a fire, after some time she had a fitting pile and soon it was set ablaze. She starred into the flames as they danced against the moonlight, taking a seat on the floor across from the fire she began murmuring to herself quietly in some strange tongue - prayers one might assume or something more sinister.
"The night is dark and full of terrors.." she sang aloud in the common tongue of the west - she had been practicing and she was getting better at it if only slowly. She continued from there in Asshai'i as her strange musical tongue filled the night air she became certain that some would come to hear the word of her Lord.
And she was not wrong, not long after she began she heard the rustling of weary feet all around her just outside the reach of the flame's light. "Come, step into the light my children be not afraid." The Red Woman said simply, her eyes never moving from the flames set before her. "The night is dark and full of terrors, but the Lord of Light will protect you from them all. Come find sanctuary in his embrace." With that she could hear the moving of feet, many leaving (though she expected such an outcome, at least at first) but others still came closer their faces quickly illuminated by the flames. They were gaunt and poor, their skin dark, cracked and windburnt.. this land of theirs had taken much from them but it also provided all they held dear.
She spoke for a time of her Lord R'hollor and of his mortal enemy the Great Other, she spoke of faith and patience, of the flames and the darkness. Over the course of the night the crowd listening to her shrank and grew in a cyclical rhythm, never growing too large never shrinking too small. She stood gazing into the fire but all she saw were flashes of her past and of Asshai, no it was clear she would see nothing of true importance in the flames.. not this night.
"Who.. or what are you woman?" came a timid voice from the crowd, "A temptress, a demon?" The man was old, set in his ways.. frightened. "Who I am is of little consequence.." she stated, her gaze falling on the man. "I am a Servant of the Light, a Slave to my Lord R'hollor. Many in these lands of your's have taken to calling me the Red Woman.. but you may call me Quaithe if it please you." She smiled warmly, at times she could be charming if she wished it so.
"For the night is dark and full of terrors.." She wailed once more, a few of those present fallowed her lead repeating the words. "But the fire burns them all away." She turned her gaze back upon the man who questioned her earlier, "We must all choose. Man or woman, young or old, the highest lord or the lowest serf, we all receive the same choices. We can choose the light or the darkness, never both.. may the Lord of Light deliver us from the evils of this world."
She continued with her proceedings until the dawn struck the morning sky above the village, it was time to move on from this place. "Let us rejoice." She told the few still present, most having left to sleep or go back to work. "For the Lord of the Light has once again delivered us from the darkness and unto his eternal Light, for the dawn to this night has finally come." She left soon after heading off toward the next village.. her mission was far from complete.
Another night and another village, here in this village by the sea the smell of mixed spices over hot coals and the ocean's salt air mingled to produce a strange yet somehow pleasant aroma. The Red Woman was lost in thought her eyes fixed on the flames before her as they cracked against the darkness, both parties locked in their eternal struggle. This night the flames revealed a vision onto her, if it be of the past, future, or present she could not tell but they showed her a figure.. a man both great and powerful wielding a blade wreathed in flame.. Lightbringer, Azor Ahai. She asked for more, for the context for some meaning but the gift of sight is fickle and the vision crumbled into smoke before more could be revealed.
Now with her attention fully in this world she quickly realized that she was not alone, another small group of Dornish had gathered about her flames standing just outside of the light's illumination. "Come, sit, be welcome." Came her voice, both mystic and musical. "The light grants protection to all who seek it." She stated aloud, loud enough to elicit a response from those near by.
She could hear a rustling and soon a few brave souls stepped into the light as the more fearful among them edged forward slowly, soon she had a crowd large enough to sermonize before. "Welcome. Please share my light, my life, my protection."She greeted them arms extended and eyes glittering from the flames. She gestured to the open space around the flame welcoming them to be seated. "May R'hollor grant protection and guidance to all those that walk in His light. May He guard us against the darkness and protect us from the evils of this world." Her eyes scanned the crowed looking over their faces worn and weathered some looked frightened, some hopeful, but not one among them had the look of a true faithful. "Let me tell you a story.." she began. "There was a time long ago - before the faithful kept the light of our Lord burning in our hearths and in our hearts, before the Valyarian conquest, before even the Andals or the Rhoynar came to this Westeros, when darkness had pushed against this world unopposed and threatened to consume it. It was in our darkest hour that a hero was sent forth by the Lord of Light, a hero from among us destined to fight the darkness and reclaim this world for the living - His name Azor Ahai, Son of Fire, Warrior of Light, Champion of R'hollor.." The flames crackled to life, as if voicing its agreement with the priestess' words, illuminating the Red Woman's face with a flush of light. "But to combat the darkness our Lord's champion needed a blade, but not just any blade, he needed a hero's sword forged from blood and sweat and tears - but to create such a blade takes sacrifice, the full extent of which he would not know until the end. And so he set about forging his blade, laboring for thirty days and thirty nights until it was done. And a magnificent blade he had forged however, when he went to temper it in water, the sword shattered into pieces. Despite this set back he started over again, intent on completing his divine work. The second time he took fifty days and fifty nights to forge the sword, and it was even more magnificent than his first attempt. He took greater care in tempering his blade this time, capturing the fiercest beast in all the lands he drove the sword into its heart, but once again his steel shattered to pieces. With the darkness upon them he set off with renewed purpose and began work for the third time, though he did so with a heavy heart for the Lord of Light had revealed the cost of his victory. He worked on this third blade for a hundred days and a hundred nights, forging a magnificent sword to rival any in all creation. This time, he called for his wife, Nissa Nissa, and asked her to bare her breast to him. Always the dutiful wife Nissa Nissa obeyed her husband's order and he drove his blade into her living heart, her soul combined with the steel of the sword, creating Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes." A strong wind picked up and the flames flickered in response but returned strong as before. "All men must make sacrifices in service to the Light, be grateful that He asks less of you than He does of others. R'hollor calls upon all those who seek protection from the eternal darkness to give themselves over to the Light, His light.."
"For the night is dark and full of terrors.." No response was given so she answered herself. "Lord cast your light upon us!" Still the people sat in silence. "For the night is dark and full of Terrors!" Silence once more greeted her ears. "Lord cast your light upon us!" Some of the braver peasants had begun speaking the words. "For the night is dark and full of terrors!" Yet more still answered her call this time. "Lord cast your light upon us!" Once more she decided, once more. "For the night is dark and full of terrors.." This time most all of those present spoke the words in some way. "Lord cast your light upon us!"
"Harlot! Heathen! Witch!" came a voice from outside the light, a servant of the great other to be certain. "How dare you question the rule of the Seven, of our gods , the gods of our fathers and our father's fathers." The old man looked toward the crowd. "And you, all you men were blessed in the light of the Seven!" The man was old and his voice was beginning to become heavy and breathless. "Are you all so eager to betray the gods of your fathers? Are you all so eager to spit upon your ancestors?" The old man's face was flushed red with anger and from a notable lack of oxygen.
The crowd sat in muted silence, some murmuring in discontent but never raising above a whisper. "You are afraid, aren't you old man?" came the priestess' voice, at that the naysayer shrank back a bit in fear for this woman was red and terrible and red. "They have come out here to hear the word of our Lord, the Lord of Life and Light, the Lord that protects us from the darkness and brings forth the dawn, the only lord that matters." Her gaze was ice yet somehow or another fire filled it. "You desecrate our gods, you question our way of life, you.." "I bring the word of my god to these lands, who are you to decide what others should and should not believe." She turned away from the decrepit old man. "What have the Seven ever done for you, what have they ever done for any of you. Besides take your faith and returning to you nothing, they do this because in truth these gods are no true gods simply wicked servants to the Great Other, lord of darkness, cold, and death. You have been lied to deceived and cast aside by men like this one that attempt to instil false faith into these false deities. My god brings light, warmth, even life - my God is a true God, my God is no lie.. unlike his."
The old man was aghast, he opened his mouth to speak but instead released a strange gasping sound from his lips and greeted the cold floor with his weathered face. One of the younger men rushed to his side placing his fingers to the old man's throat he pronounced him dead, an audible gasp was given off by the crowd and soon they were gathered around the man's body murmuring about the nature of his demise. Quaithe pushed through the growing circle around the man and lowered herself to him, she inspected his body and felt for a pulse.. nothing, the man was certainly dead, but with the blessings of R'hllor death needn't be the end. She began to whisper into the dead man's ear in her strange Asshai'i tongue, the whisper grew into a murmur which in turn grew into a piercing wail. Those around her grew weary but something amazing happened - the old man, who moments ago had been dead as a felled tree, drew breath once more, his eyes opened and he began to move.
She spoke softly once more into the man's ear, "The Lord of Light is forgiving, but even his patience has its limits.." With that she rose to her feet and returned to the flames. "Tell me can his Seven that are One do such a thing? Return the dead to the living?" She questioned, being answered with stunned silence, a grin slowly played itself across her face. "Let us rejoice for the Lord of Light has answered the call of his faithful, for the Lord of Light has chosen to cast aside the shackles of death once more!"
The rest of the night was spent in traditional prayer beseeching the Lord of Light to bring back the dawn once more, the audience was more proactive in their rendition now that the true power of this Red God had been show to them. The dawn was upon them soon there after and together the Red Woman and her followers greeted the sun in reverence to their God. Once the formalities were finished and her morning prayers spoken Quaithe left for the next villages, realizing that she was growing ever closer to Sunspear itself.
Quaithe sat by her flames in yet another nameless village, converting a people it seemed was a harder task than the Lord of Light would have had her believe but she was making headway, or at least she was convinced that she was. A small crowd was gathered and she was preparing show her devotion to her God, she rolled up her right arm sleeve and starred into the flames breathlessly. She began to whisper in her stranger tongue and in a single fluid motion she moved her upper arm into the bellowing flames, but instead of burning her skin or searing her flesh to the bone the flames simply enveloped her forearm. A young Septon, filled with equal parts bravery and foolhardiness, who had been watching the proceedings stepped forward. "Charlatan!" he cried, "Any who truly walk in the light of the Seven could do the same!" "You are welcome to my flame, surly you count yourself among those that truly walk in the light of the Seven?" The man gulped, he clearly hadn't expected to be called out in such a manner. "Of course.." He said as he approached the flame wearily. "I will show you the power of Westerosi gods.." His words seemed to hold more fear in them than certainty but he rolled his sleeve up all the same and sat across from her. And at the moment of truth he threw his arm into the flames, the flame answered by bellowing up with all its might, and they seemed to crackle with delight as the man screamed a most horrible scream and withdrew his arm from the fires. The Septon's arm was blackened and charred, the skin flacked off in blackish-red chunks and all from a moments exposure to the Red Woman's flame - clearly it was no natural flame that Quaithe tended to. "I suppose the Lord of Light is feeling forgiving this day.. it is rare that he would let a man keep the arm, though the night is young and prone to change." The young Septon backed away into the shadows and skulked off toward the nearest keep, surly any blessed lord would allow him use of their measter.
Before she could do anything else a relatively young woman, no more than seven and ten approached her. This woman was flanked by guards, conscripted peasants or bandits by the look of them though those things seemed to be one and the same in these strange lands. "Are you her?" came the stranger voice calm and frantic at the same time. "I do not know what she you are looking for my dear, but considering you have come to my flames I will assume I am." "Are the one they call the Red Woman?" She looked down at her garments, crimson red and flowing. "I am red, am I not?" "Do not play games with me, I am in dire need." She chuckled knowingly. "I never play games, for the world is always in dire need." She rolled her sleeve down her demonstration complete. "I am Quaithe, if that be the one you seek you have come to the right place." "Yes, yes that was your name!" The Red Woman was growing tired of this strangers antics, if she was not here to join in prayer she should never have come. "Will y- can you help me?" "That would depend wouldn't it?" "On what, coin? I have plenty I-" "No, on what it is you'd wish of me." The woman seemed distraught, but Quaithe remained unmoved. "Its my husband, he.. he.. he's dead, killed by his brother's hand in an attempt to steal our lan-" "And what would you have me do about this?" "I've heard rumors that you brought a man back from the dead, tha-" "I did nothing.." She stood gracefully running her slender hands across the flame."I beseeched the Light to aid me in casting off the Darkness, and R'hllor chose to answer my request. Nothing more nothing less." "Good, well come with me an-" "I will do no such thing, bring your husbands corpse to me, if he has passed within the last day there may be hope for him yet." "How dare you my husband is a Knight, sworn in service to Sunspear you must-" "I must do nothing! Invoke a name that means nothing here if you wish, but my answer will remain the same." The flames danced around her finger tips, as if they cherished her touch. "Bring him here and I shall anoint you both in the Light of our Lord, and after that.. well, only the flames truly know." The woman nodded and quickly mounted her horse racing back toward her lands.
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The Night is Dark and Full of Terrors (Conversion of Dorne)
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