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Live for herself?
She went completely still.
Over a thousand years.
She had lived for over a thousand years.
From an ignorant little girl, she had become the most devout believer in Asshai, and then the most powerful priestess of the Lord of Light.
Her entire life had been spent in service to a vague and intangible god, to a prophecy always just out of reach.
She had watched dynasties rise and crumble. She had watched heroes reach their end.
She had known friends. She had known parents who loved her.
But they were all gone.
Dust in the river of time.
Only she remained, like a ghost forgotten on the shore, watching the tides come and go, alone.
No one had ever asked if she was tired.
No one had ever asked if she wanted this. If she had chosen this eternal life, or simply been trapped inside it.
They saw her beauty. They saw her power. They saw the title , Priestess of the Lord of Light.
They revered her. They feared her. They used her.
Not one of them had ever truly cared.
And now.
This man standing before her , the man who had killed her with his own hands not an hour ago and then dragged her back from the realm of death.
He was telling her to live for herself?
"I..."
Melisandre's mouth opened. Tears spilled from her red eyes, beyond her control.
"Live for myself?"
Her voice shook.
Lynn said nothing. He just looked at her.
But Melisandre understood.
She read everything in his eyes.
A thought she had never once had in a thousand years blazed to life inside her, wild and unstoppable.
She didn't want to be the high priestess anymore.
She didn't want to be shackled by empty prophecies and hollow missions anymore.
She wanted to be free.
She wanted, just once, to live for herself.
"I understand."
Melisandre drew a slow breath and wiped her tears away with the back of her hand.
When she raised her head again, every trace of fragility and confusion was gone from those red eyes.
She looked at Lynn. Then, slowly, she knelt.
"My lord."
Her voice held something new. A calm that came from relief , the kind of relief that only arrives when a burden has finally been set down.
"You are right."
"I have lived a thousand years for the Lord of Light. Now I wish to live again." A pause. "For you. And for myself."
Lynn studied her, curious. "What do you intend to do?"
Melisandre didn't answer right away.
She closed her eyes, as if reaching inward for something.
Then, quietly, she began.
"The Lord of Light granted me four powers."
"Prophecy. Flame. Curse." A breath. "And shadow."
Her voice was soft.
"Prophecy lets me see fragments of the future in fire."
"Flame lets me command fire itself."
"Curse lets me call down punishment through a king's blood — the most vicious kind."
"And shadow lets me create assassins. Loyal beyond question. Impossible to stop."
With each power she named, something lit up further behind Lynn's eyes.
Holy hell.
This woman is an absolute treasure.
Divination. Fire magic. Blood curse. Shadow assassins.
She's a walking skill library.
"These powers have always felt like shackles." A note of disgust crept into Melisandre's voice. "Chains on my soul."
"Now I don't want them anymore."
She raised her head. Her red eyes burned.
"Please — allow me to give all four of them to you. Every last one."
"From this day forward, I am simply a woman. An ordinary woman, at your side, in your service."
Lynn's heart gave one involuntary thud.
Free skills, handed over willingly?
Don't mind if I do.
He was screaming internally. His face didn't move a muscle.
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
No hesitation. No doubt.
"This is the first decision I have made for myself in a thousand years."
"Very well."
Lynn nodded.
If she'd already made up her mind, he wasn't about to argue. He walked slowly to stand in front of her.
"Tell me how."
A smile broke across Melisandre's face. Brilliant and unrestrained.
It was the smile of someone set free. Of someone newly born.
"Extend your hand. Place it on my forehead."
Lynn did.
His palm settled gently against her smooth forehead. Warm to the touch, and soft.
"Now feel my soul."
Melisandre's voice shifted , faint now, solemn, like something older than the language she began to chant in.
The words came low and quiet at first, then filled the room.
And as they did ,
Four beams of light exploded from her body, each a different color!
Gold, for prophecy!
Crimson, for flame!
Purple, for curse!
And last , pure black, for shadow!
All four surged up Lynn's arm and flooded into him.
[Ding! Unclaimed fragments of the Lord of Light's authority detected!]
[Absorption in progress...]
[Ding! Congratulations, host has acquired new skill: Flame Divination (Beginner)!]
[Ding! Congratulations, host has acquired new skill: Fire Magic (Beginner)!]
[Ding! Congratulations, host has acquired new skill: Blood Curse (Beginner)!]
[Ding! Congratulations, host has acquired new skill: Shadow Assassin (Beginner)!]
The notifications cascaded through his mind one after another.
Lynn felt his entire body fill with four vast, surging energies, pressing into every corner of him like a tide with nowhere left to go.
When the last light finally disappeared beneath his skin, the room went quiet.
Melisandre's body swayed. All the strength went out of her at once, and she tipped backward.
Lynn caught her before she fell, pulling her against his chest.
He looked down at her.
She was different. He could see it immediately.
Her eyes, which had always been that deep, unsettling red, had faded , lighter now, less eerie, something more human flickering in them. A warmth that hadn't been there before.
The strange, untouchable aura that had always surrounded her was gone entirely.
She looked like a woman who had just come through a long illness. Weak, a little pale, undeniably real.
A breathtakingly beautiful woman.
"I..."
Melisandre leaned into him. She felt the weakness in every part of her , more than she ever had in a thousand years.
But underneath it, something else.
A lightness she had never felt before.
She was free.
She was finally, at last, not a puppet with someone else's hand on the strings.
From this moment on, she had no interest in prophecies, in doom, in whether Westeros was swallowed by darkness or saved from it. None of it had anything to do with her anymore.
She had abandoned her god.
She tilted her head up and looked at Lynn's face , so close, the face that made something in her chest settle into stillness.
A shy smile curved her lips.
"My lord..."
"From now on, I am yours."
"I have lived a very long time. If you don't mind that I am only an old woman..." Her voice softened. "I would spend whatever time remains serving you."
Lynn looked at her , the careful hope in her expression, the way she was watching him.
He smiled.
"Old woman?"
He reached out and tilted her chin up gently between his fingers.
"I really don't see it."
Then he leaned forward and pressed his forehead lightly to hers.
[Ding! Skill 'Eternal Youth' activated!]
[Link target: Melisandre!]
A warm rush of energy, full and alive, poured out of Lynn and into her.
Melisandre shuddered.
She felt it clearly , the slow pull of her life force, the quiet draining that had only just begun, stopped cold in its tracks.
The feeling of permanence flooded back into her body.
But this time, it wasn't a curse.
She stared up at him, at the lazy, amused smile on his face.
The tears came anyway. She couldn't stop them.
"A thousand years," Lynn said, his voice low in her ear, "is only the beginning."
"You're mine now, Melisandre. Lynn's."
"And if you never want to touch another war or another prophecy again, that's fine. I have a head full of interesting ideas — and I'm going to need someone to bring them to life."
➤ Next: The False God's Apostle
— .—— .—— .—— .—— .——
[FULL STORY ACCESS]
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