The Awakening of Greensight in the Godswood
The Godswood of Winterfell glowed with a cold, desolate light in the twilight, the ancient weirwood branches twisted like bones, and the red patterns on the bark, like congealed blood, felt slightly warm under the setting sun.
Bran sat on a stone platform in the center of the Godswood, the metal axles of his wheelchair sinking into the soft, decaying leaves.
His eyes were tightly closed, his eyelashes casting faint shadows beneath them—the power of the three-eyed raven was awakening from the depths of his consciousness, sweeping over the dam of memory like a tide, drawing him into the Greensight illusion.
First to surge in were the current scenes of Winterfell: Sansa stood before the armory, directing servants to inventory dragonglass weapons; her finger traced a dragonglass spear, her brow slightly furrowed, clearly worried about an insufficient number of weapons.
Jon, meanwhile, was on the training grounds, dressed in his black Night's Watch cloak, longsword in hand, instructing soldiers on techniques for killing wights; his movements were precise and steady, yet the fatigue in his eyes was undeniable—though the rebellion of the remaining Bolton forces had been quelled, the looming shadow of the approaching Others always weighed on his mind.
Bran's consciousness floated gently, like a feather skimming over the walls of Winterfell, drifting towards the snowy plains of the North.
He "saw" the Night King's army of wights gathering, their blue eyes forming a continuous expanse on the ice, like stars in the polar night.
He "saw" a section of the Wall had already collapsed, and the Night's Watch were temporarily sealing it with stones and wood, barrels of fire oil piled like small mountains in the snow.
He also "saw" Sam in the forbidden section of The Citadel, kneeling on the ground, poring over an ancient parchment scroll, its beginning adorned with an illustration of dragons battling the Others; his finger repeatedly traced the words "dragonflame burns ice."
These scenes were all within the "predetermined timeline"—after Bran became the three-eyed raven, he had seen these images countless times in Greensight: the Others marching south, Winterfell preparing for war, Daenerys's dragonflame becoming hope.
But today, as his consciousness swept across the Narrow Sea, attempting to perceive the movements of Daenerys's reinforcements, he suddenly collided with an "anomalous trajectory"—it was an aura that did not belong to this world, like a stone dropped into a calm lake, stirring ripples never before seen on the waters of fate.
Bran's eyes suddenly snapped open, the red glow of Greensight lingering in his pupils.
His breathing was somewhat ragged, and his fingers unconsciously clutched at the decaying leaves on the stone platform.
"Something's wrong," he whispered, a hint of confusion in his voice, "The timeline… it seems to have changed."
Meera, guarding outside the Godswood, heard his voice and quickly walked in, a spear in her hand, her eyes wary: "Bran, what's wrong? Did you see the Others again?"
Bran shook his head, closed his eyes again, attempting to recapture that anomalous trajectory.
This time, his consciousness was more focused, sweeping like a searchlight over every warship in the Narrow Sea, finally finding the source of that anomalous aura in a fleet sailing north—on the deck of the dragonflame, a man in a red robe was leaning over a sea chart, his finger moving rapidly across the map, marking some strange symbols, while the imp (Tyrion) beside him held a wine jug, seemingly arguing with him about something.
This man was the core of the anomaly.
Bran's consciousness delved into the dragonflame.
He "saw" the man pull a strange brass device (a monocular telescope) from his Pregnant, aiming it at the distant horizon.
He "saw" him instructing craftsmen to install metal pipes (flame-thrower nozzles) on the warship, holding a blueprint filled with gears.
He "saw" him mixing dragonglass powder into fire oil, and green flames burned in his hands without scorching his skin—these were not things that should exist in this world, not magic, nor ancient techniques, but a completely new "knowledge" that had never appeared in Greensight.
"Illyrio…" Bran softly uttered the name, which he had caught from the man's conversation with Tyrion.
This name was not in any of his known timelines; the existence of this man was like a star suddenly intruding into a galaxy, disrupting the previously fixed orbits.
2. Tracing Back the Trajectory in Greensight
To ascertain Illyrio's origin, Bran's consciousness began to trace back the trajectory of time, like flipping through a thick history book, page by page, searching for traces of this man's appearance.
He first "saw" the slums of Pentos: a young Illyrio, dressed in ragged clothes, drawing strange figures (modern geometric formulas) on the ground with a stick, surrounded by several homeless children; he was teaching them how to calculate food distribution using the simplest methods—even then, his eyes held a calmness beyond his years, as if he had already seen through the essence of the world.
Next were the red walls of Meereen: Illyrio stood beside Daenerys, holding a blueprint for an improved waterwheel, explaining to slave craftsmen how to use water power to irrigate farmland.
Daenerys's dragons circled above his head, yet they did not attack him; instead, they showed a strange closeness—dragons are magical creatures that can sense goodwill and threat, and clearly, they acknowledged the man's existence.
Then came the first interception battle in the Narrow Sea: the Golden Company's warships surrounded the Meereen fleet, but Illyrio was unusually calm.
He directed soldiers to use "flame-thrower nozzles" to ignite the enemy's sails, used "floating fire barriers" to block the enemy's attack, and even personally piloted a small boat, using a dragonglass dagger to kill the Golden Company's captain.
His tactics were not traditional charges or defenses, but full of "calculation"—utilizing terrain, weapon characteristics, and enemy weaknesses to achieve the greatest victory with the least cost; this tactical thinking had never appeared in the history of Westeros.
Bran's consciousness continued to trace back, but in the timeline before Pentos, he encountered a "blank"—like a book with its first few pages torn out, he could not see what Illyrio was like before he came to this world, only sensing a strong "external aura," as if this man had suddenly appeared in the slums of Pentos from a completely different world.
"A variable… a true variable." Bran's consciousness returned to the present.
He opened his eyes, the red glow in them gradually fading, replaced by a deep insight.
He finally understood why the previous timeline had ripples—Illyrio's existence was not part of fate, but an "external force" that broke fate.
He concentrated again, and this time, his consciousness focused on Illyrio's interaction with Arya: in the Dragonstone warehouse, Illyrio and Arya fought back-to-back, he using a dragonglass dagger against nearby enemies, Arya using her valyrian steel sword to kill distant soldiers, their cooperation unusually tacit.
On the edge of the Haunted Forest, Illyrio was listening to Arya recount the weaknesses of the Others; on the parchment in his hand, he rapidly recorded the wights' movement patterns and drew a simple diagram of a "fire oil trap"; Arya looked at the blueprint, her eyes filled with approval.
Bran's consciousness gently touched Illyrio's mind; he did not read specific thoughts, but sensed a strong "sense of purpose"—this man had come to this world not for power, nor for wealth, but to stop the invasion of the Others, to protect innocent lives.
This sense of purpose was pure and firm, as fiery as dragonflame, yet without a trace of greed or hatred.
"He will help us," Bran told himself, his voice carrying an unprecedented certainty.
The image of "Winterfell's fall" he had previously seen in Greensight seemed to blur due to Illyrio's presence, replaced by a new possibility—the allied forces successfully resisting the Others, and Westeros surviving.
3. Synchronized Greensight of Chaos in King's Landing
Just as Bran was focused on analyzing Illyrio's trajectory, a messenger from Winterfell rushed into the Godswood, holding a secret letter from King's Landing: "Lord Bran, Lady Sansa asked me to give you this; there's a rebellion in King's Landing, the common people have started to revolt due to Cersei's oppressive rule!"
Bran took the secret letter but did not open it immediately; instead, he closed his eyes, allowing his consciousness to re-enter Greensight, synchronously perceiving the current situation in King's Landing—this time, his perspective was even clearer, because Illyrio's trajectory had given him a new understanding of "variables," and also made his Greensight ability more acute.
He "saw" the slums of King's Landing: commoners, armed with farming tools and stones, rushing towards the Red Keep, their faces filled with anger and despair, shouting slogans of "Overthrow the Fire Queen."
The Kingsguard soldiers, clad in red armor, held long spears to block them, but due to their small numbers, they were gradually surrounded by the commoners; some soldiers even laid down their weapons, choosing to join the commoners' ranks—Cersei's rule had already lost the support of the people.
In the Red Keep's council chambers, Cersei stood before the iron throne, a glass of wine in her hand, but she did not drink it, merely staring blankly at the flames outside the window.
Qyburn stood beside her, his face flustered as he reported the battle situation: "Your Grace, the commoners have breached the outer city defenses and will soon reach the Red Keep!
The representative from the Iron Bank is also waiting outside; they say if you don't provide a collateral plan soon, they will immediately declare support for Daenerys!"
Cersei did not answer, she merely slammed her goblet to the floor, sending shards flying. Her eyes turned frantic, and she suddenly said to Qyburn, "Give my command! Ignite the wildfire stores in West Port! I want those commoners to know what happens when they defy me! I want all of King's Landing to be buried with me!"
Qyburn was stunned. He hadn't expected Cersei to make such a mad decision. "Your Grace, absolutely not! If the wildfire stores in West Port are ignited, all of King's Landing will be burned, including us!"
"I don't care!" Cersei's voice was sharp and piercing. "What I cannot have, no one else will! Daenerys wants to conquer King's Landing, Jon wants to reclaim the North, they won't get either! I want them to know that I, Cersei Lannister, even in death, will drag all of Westeros to hell with me!"
Bran's consciousness fluctuated violently at this moment. He could clearly perceive the despair and madness in Cersei's heart, and also the destructive danger emanating from the wildfire stores. He knew that if Cersei truly ignited the wildfire, not only would King's Landing turn to ashes, but it would also attract the attention of the Others—though the flames of wildfire were scorching, they would leave a large amount of magical residue in the air, and the Others loved to devour such residual energy.
"She must be stopped." Bran opened his eyes, his expression grave. He said to the messenger, "Immediately deliver the secret message to Miss Sansa and Lord Jon. Tell them to accelerate their preparations. Illyrio's reinforcements will arrive at Winterfell very soon. We need to unite with Daenerys's army and conquer King's Landing before Cersei ignites the wildfire!"
The messenger nodded and immediately turned to leave the Godswood. Meera looked at Bran, her eyes filled with worry. "Bran, what did you just see? Is the situation in King's Landing very bad?"
"Very bad, worse than I imagined," Bran said, his fingers gently tapping the armrest of his wheelchair. "Cersei has gone mad; she wants to ignite the wildfire stores and destroy all of King's Landing. If we don't stop her soon, not only will the commoners of King's Landing suffer, but it will also give the Others an opportunity."
"Then Illyrio's reinforcements... can they really help?" Meera asked. She had heard Bran mention the name before but didn't know how capable this man truly was.
Bran's eyes became firm. "He can. His knowledge and tactics are key to our fight against Cersei and the Others. Moreover, he and Arya have already established trust, and Arya will help him integrate into our army." He paused, then added, "I will tell Jon and Sansa the information I saw about Illyrio in my Greensight, so they can prepare to meet with Illyrio."
Four, Information Transmission and Decision Making in Winterfell
That evening, Bran was carried into the Great Hall of Winterfell. Jon and Sansa were already waiting there, surrounded by several Northern lords, all with worried expressions, evidently having already read the secret message from King's Landing.
"Bran, you called us here; do you have new information about King's Landing?" Jon spoke first, his voice deep, his eyes urgent—the rebellion in King's Landing not only concerned the situation in the South but could also affect their plans against the Others. If Cersei truly ignited the wildfire, the power of all of Westeros would be weakened.
Bran nodded, motioning for Meera to spread a parchment on the table. He extended his hand, his fingertip lightly tracing the parchment, and a green glow emanated from his fingertip, forming the silhouette of a man on the paper—it was Illyrio. "I have important news to tell you, about a man named Illyrio," Bran said, his voice calm yet carrying an undeniable force. "He is Daenerys's reinforcement commander and is leading an army on the way to Winterfell."
"Illyrio?" Sansa frowned. She had never heard that name. "Who is he? Why would Daenerys send him to command the reinforcements?"
"He is not from Westeros, nor is he from the Eastern Continent." Bran's fingertip continued to move, and the green light formed patterns like "flame-thrower nozzle," "dragonglass fire oil," and "reef tactics" on the parchment. "He comes from a completely different world, possessing a brand new kind of knowledge—this knowledge is not magic, but it can change the course of war just like magic."
The Northern lords all showed surprised expressions; some even looked skeptical. "From another world? How is that possible?" one lord couldn't help but ask. "Lord Bran, did you misinterpret your Greensight?"
"I did not misinterpret." Bran's eyes sharpened. "I saw him teaching children to calculate in Pentos, I saw him improving waterwheels in Meereen, I saw him defeating the Golden Company's fleet in the Narrow Sea with 'flame-thrower nozzles.' His tactical thinking, his weapon designs, are completely different from everything we know, yet exceptionally effective. His existence is the 'variable' that breaks fate—the vision of 'the Fall of Winterfell' that I saw in my Greensight before has already begun to change because of his appearance."
Jon walked to the parchment, looking at the patterns on it, his eyes thoughtful. He recalled Arya's previous letter, which mentioned that "Illyrio's tactics are very powerful; he can use terrain and weapons to defeat enemies." At the time, he thought it was just Arya exaggerating, but now it seemed it was all true. "What is his goal?" Jon asked. "Why is he helping us?"
"To stop the Others." Bran said, his fingertip pausing on the "Others" pattern. "I sensed his thoughts; he has no desire for power, no desire for wealth. His only goal is to prevent the invasion of the Others and protect the life of this world. He knows how great the threat of the Others is, and he knows that if we fail, all of Westeros will turn into an ice field."
Sansa looked at Bran, then at Jon, and gradually made up her mind. "If he can truly help us, then we should prepare to welcome him." She said, "We can set up a camp outside Winterfell, prepare food and supplies, and as soon as his army arrives, immediately rendezvous with them and formulate a plan to fight Cersei and the Others."
"I agree." Jon nodded. He turned to the Northern lords. "My lords, I know this sounds incredible, but Bran's Greensight has never been wrong. Illyrio's arrival is our chance, and it is Westeros's chance. We must put aside our doubts and cooperate with his army; otherwise, we have no chance of winning."
The Northern lords looked at each other, then finally nodded in agreement. Although they still had doubts about Illyrio's origins, Bran's credibility, Jon's leadership, and the threat of the Others compelled them to choose to believe.
Bran watched all of this, a sigh of relief in his heart. He knew that accepting Illyrio, this "variable," was only the first step. Next, they would need to integrate with Illyrio's army, combine his knowledge with the magic and skills of Westeros, to truly form a force against the Others.
"One more thing." Bran suddenly spoke. "Cersei has gone mad; she wants to ignite the wildfire stores in King's Landing and destroy the entire city. We must speed up, rendezvous with Illyrio's army before she acts, and then march south to conquer King's Landing and stop her mad plan. Otherwise, not only will the commoners of King's Landing suffer, but it will also give the Others an opportunity."
Jon and Sansa's expressions immediately turned grave. They knew how powerful wildfire was, and if Cersei truly ignited the wildfire stores, the consequences would be unimaginable. "I will immediately send someone to inform Arya to accelerate her rendezvous with Illyrio," Jon said. "At the same time, we will strengthen Winterfell's defenses and prepare food and weapons to ensure that we can depart immediately after Illyrio's army arrives."
As night fell, the Great Hall of Winterfell remained brightly lit. Bran sat in his wheelchair, watching Jon and Sansa discuss the specific plans with the lords, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. He knew that Illyrio's arrival had not only changed the timeline but also brought new possibilities to this world on the verge of being swallowed by winter.
He closed his eyes again, his consciousness drifting towards the Narrow Sea—the dragonflame was sailing north, Illyrio stood on the deck, holding a map of Winterfell, discussing tactics with Tyrion for after their rendezvous. Bran's consciousness gently touched Illyrio's thoughts, transmitting a signal of "welcome."
Illyrio seemed to sense something. He looked up at the northern sky, a hint of confusion in his eyes, then quickly returned to calm, focusing on the map. Bran knew they would meet soon, and soon they would fight together to protect this world.
In the Godswood of Winterfell, the ancient weirwood trees swayed gently, their red veins glowing in the night, as if witnessing this moment that would change fate. A faint smile appeared on Bran's lips—he knew that the real battle was about to begin, and this time, they were no longer prisoners of fate, but challengers of fate.