Starry Sept.
The second tallest building in Oldtown after the Hightower, and the most magnificent sept on the continent of Westeros.
It has long stood as the stronghold of the Faith of the Seven.
The grand doors of the sept stood open, and the high white stone steps divided into several tiers, with large numbers of devotees passing through daily.
Nobles, knights, commoners, even beggars—
All could enter and leave the sept freely, receiving the teachings of the septons.
"Hiss—"
A thunderous roar echoed as the Glutton circled above Oldtown, spiraling around the Starry Sept.
"Hiss!"
"Hiss…"
The Sheepstealer and Sunfyre spread their wings and glided freely, flanking the massive black dragon like guardians.
To the people of Oldtown, this sight was both thrilling and unsettling.
The arrival of dragons symbolized members of House Targaryen.
The Iron Throne upheld the Faith of the Seven, even allowing the daughter of King Jaehaerys to join the order of septas.
But in times of war, the dragons should be on the battlefields of Dorne.
Yet, three dragons had suddenly descended upon Oldtown, first alarming the city's residents and now circling menacingly around the Starry Sept.
The worshippers grew anxious and gathered at the sept to understand what was happening.
...
At this moment,
Inside the Starry Sept, heightened vigilance reigned as hundreds of septons rushed out, blocking the steps before the sept.
"Hiss—"
Looking up, they saw the black dragon roaring fiercely, its massive wings blotting out the sun.
Its charcoal-black scales paired with eerie green slit-pupiled eyes, giving it a sinister and terrifying appearance—like a demon from the Seven-Pointed Star.
"Glutton, descend!"
Rhaegar, with a calm expression, guided his dragon to descend slowly, landing precisely on the steps of the sept.
As the dragon's sharp claws touched the ground, the stone steps shattered, sounding like a hammer breaking bones.
The Sheepstealer and Sunfyre circled twice before landing on the cobblestone ground below the steps.
The Glutton, being enormous, occupied most of the steps, its wings blocking all paths.
The other two dragons could only land farther away.
Rumble...
A carriage bearing the sigil of House Hightower sped towards the scene, with Mace and Otto holding onto their attendants as they disembarked, trying to maintain their composure despite the jarring ride.
Mace had no choice but to come.
Otto, on the other hand, came willingly to support his brother.
Rhaegar glanced briefly at them before turning his gaze back to the group of septons at the sept's entrance and said coolly, "I am Rhaegar of House Targaryen, firstborn son of Viserys I, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and regent. Summon your High Septon."
The septons exchanged uneasy glances, suspicion mingled with hostility.
Quite a long introduction—typical of royalty.
Seeing them remain silent, Rhaegar's expression darkened. "The crown prince is here, where is your High Septon?"
He had already shortened his introduction, yet these septons still looked as if they hadn't woken up.
Mace hurriedly climbed the steps, panting. "Your Grace, let me speak with them."
Regarding dragons, more people in Westeros feared them than revered them.
The Faith of the Seven and House Targaryen had been at odds for over a century.
Relations had improved during King Jaehaerys' reign, and Viserys had pursued mutual cooperation.
Yet, even King Jaehaerys had never been so bold as to circle the Starry Sept atop a dragon.
Rhaegar waved dismissively, sensing the hostility from the Faith of the Seven, and said casually, "I have only one request—to see the High Septon."
He had come to settle old scores, never intending for a peaceful resolution.
Suppressing the Faith of the Seven to gain the right to take multiple wives—this was his true purpose.
Not that every king needed multiple wives, but the royal family did—at least he demanded this right.
With this precedent, the Faith's authority would weaken, and royal power would surpass religious power.
Mace nodded vigorously and quickly engaged the septons in conversation.
The septons appeared highly tense, clutching tables and chairs, ready to sacrifice themselves for the Seven at any moment.
Rhaegar glanced inside the sept, where hundreds of septas knelt in rows, praying towards the statues of the Seven.
Even more monks and Silent Sisters stood in the corners, furtively observing the black dragon outside the sept.
"A considerable number—comparable to the private armies of major Riverlands lords."
Rhaegar silently assessed, recalling the now-dissolved Warrior's Sons and the Poor Fellows.
They were grassroots forces capable of bringing down an entire kingdom if they rebelled.
Even Maegor the Cruel, riding the Black Dread—Balerion—had failed to crush the Faith of the Seven completely.
Soon, Mace returned after negotiating.
Approaching the Glutton hesitantly, unsure how to speak.
Seeing his hesitant demeanor, Rhaegar grew wary and demanded sharply, "What is it? Has the High Septon passed away?"
"No!" Mace hurriedly shook his head, his face clouded. "The High Septon, upon learning of your arrival, entered seclusion in a secret chamber a quarter-hour ago and has forbidden anyone to disturb him."
"Seclusion?"
Rhaegar was taken aback, then chuckled. "The High Septon sees me as a conqueror."
At the start of the Targaryen dynasty, the Conqueror united the six kingdoms, except for Dorne, and intended to march on Oldtown.
The High Septon of that time locked himself in the inner sanctum of the Starry Sept for seven days and nights, consuming only bread and water, listening to the guidance of the Seven.
After seven days, the nearly prostrated High Septon emerged trembling.
When the Conqueror arrived at Oldtown on Balerion, the Lord of Hightower opened the city gates, and the people lined the streets in welcome.
It was all due to the High Septon's revelations from his seclusion.
In summary:
Oldtown couldn't withstand the dragons—kneel and live, stand and die.
The Faith of the Seven and House Hightower had chosen to bend the knee together.
Mace, troubled, said, "Your Grace, the Faith of the Seven is spread across all of Westeros—perhaps you could wait a bit longer."
"Do you know why I'm here?" Rhaegar asked bluntly.
Mace was momentarily speechless.
Everyone in the kingdom knows that, compared to the young King Viserys, the Crown Prince is even more opposed to the Faith of the Seven.
He is also known to have had an affair with Lady Jeyne of the Vale.
Now is the perfect time for the conquest of Dorne, and the Crown Prince has arrived, riding the momentum of uniting Westeros.
Suppressing the Faith of the Seven and seizing unspoken benefits are inevitable.
Rhaegar smiled slightly. Seeing his expression, it was clear that his thoughts were already transparent.
That's exactly right.
When faced with the armed uprising of the Faith, Queen Visenya once told her nephew, King Aenys I:
"My dear nephew, you are a fool and a coward. Tell me, who would dare offend your father like this?"
"You have a dragon beneath you. You should be riding it to Oldtown, turning the Starry Sept into another Harrenhal."
"If you don't have the guts, then let me go and roast that hypocritical clown for you."
Coincidentally, Rhaegar also had a dragon beneath him, along with the resolve to burn everything down if necessary.
There was only one purpose for this trip to Oldtown.
I have come! I will take!
Neither House Hightower, nor the Faith of the Seven, nor the Citadel had any right to refuse.
This time, not only was Manfred left speechless, but even Otto, who had rushed over, was at a loss for words.
The kings of House Targaryen were mostly strong-willed and domineering.
The weak personalities of Aenys I and Viserys were, after all, exceptions.
Rhaegar patted the dragon's back. Glutton slowly crawled forward as he spoke calmly, "The High Septon has been in seclusion for seven days and nights. I will also give him seven days and nights."
"During this time, I will temporarily reside in the Starry Sept, waiting for good news."
Glutton crawled to the entrance of the Sept, its towering back level with the building's dome, lowering itself so its rider could dismount.
Faced with the hostile gazes of the gathered septons, Rhaegar paid them no heed and dismounted at his own pace.
Turning back, he waved at Aegon and Aemond before striding toward the sept's grand hall.
The septons tensed, attempting to block the entrance with their bodies.
"Hiss—Gaaah!"
Glutton's piercing green eyes flashed menacingly as it let out a furious roar at the Starry Sept. The searing heat of its breath sent the septons tumbling, scorching their robes and burning their skin.
Screams echoed in succession.
Rhaegar remained composed, his long silver-gold hair flowing in the wind as he strode into the sept with his hands clasped behind him.
From beginning to end, he never spared the septons a second glance.
To him, they were no more than insignificant insects—blown away by a single breath, scattered across the ground in disarray.
The moment his right foot crossed the threshold, Rhaegar paused.
Manfred and Otto's hearts leapt, fearing that this ancestor of theirs was about to cause even more trouble.
But Rhaegar simply turned his head and said, "The task of eradicating the Dornish invaders falls to Aegon and Aemond. Once I have met with the High Septon, I expect to see a representative from the Citadel's Conclave immediately."
The Conclave—the highest authority of the Citadel, composed of Archmaesters—held the power to appoint and dismiss Grand Maesters.
With that, he entered the sept, choosing a corner to sit cross-legged.
Outside, only the massive black dragon remained, crouching at the sept's entrance, its eerie green eyes ever watchful.
Manfred and Hightower clenched their fists, suddenly realizing their palms were slick with sweat.
Even in this brief encounter, they had already identified many underlying issues.
Especially Otto, whose deep-set eyes were filled with astonishment, his limbs turning numb.
As he watched the Crown Prince's retreating figure into the sept, for a moment, he thought the Old King had returned from the dead.
He understood one thing very clearly—this was a statement.
Comply with his demands, and all will be well.
They could refuse—but they would not escape dragonfire.
"Roooar…"
Glutton let out a long, low growl, its vertical pupils slowly closing, like a silent guardian deity.
"Let's go."
Otto snapped back to reality, his expression grim. "We need to return and discuss this carefully. All previous plans are to be scrapped."
Manfred nodded hurriedly, and the brothers slunk back to their carriage.
—
Night fell.
Atop the Hightower, in the lord's chambers.
Manfred had taken a milk bath and now sat dejectedly at the edge of his bed.
The Faith of the Seven and Oldtown had always been House Hightower's greatest allies. In the past, he took pride in this, as it symbolized Oldtown's prosperity and vast knowledge.
But now, both had become immense burdens.
Creak—
The door opened, and Otto entered, now dressed in a simple green tunic.
Manfred glanced at him from the corner of his eye before dropping his head again.
"Aegon and Aemond will ride their dragons tomorrow to hunt down the Dornish invaders," Otto said, maintaining his composure as he tried to start a conversation.
Manfred remained sullen.
Otto observed him for a moment before speaking in a low voice, "My grandsons have grown up. They have their own ideas now."
"I knew it."
Manfred sounded utterly defeated.
After the banquet, he had asked Otto to try and win over their two nephews.
Evidently, he had failed.
"Brother, don't lose heart so easily."
Otto sat beside Manfred, his voice measured. "The Crown Prince suppressing the Faith and the Citadel doesn't directly affect our family—at least, not yet."
The blade was not yet pointed at them. As long as House Hightower remained obedient, there would be no leverage against them.
Manfred frowned, catching the implication. "Not yet?"
Otto sighed lightly. "The Crown Prince is determined to weaken Oldtown's influence. If His Majesty were to suffer an accident, and Rhaegar ascended the throne, it would be difficult for House Hightower to escape unscathed."
"The King is merely in a coma."
Mond understood the situation and wasn't too worried.
"Viserys has always been in poor health. A prolonged coma is never a good sign for anyone," Otto replied.
Mond pondered carefully. That was true, but he hesitated and asked, "Do you have a way to avoid the Crown Prince's difficulties?"
Otto responded with a question of his own: "If pirates intercept your trade routes, how would you handle it?"
"What else can we do? We clean them up when necessary..."
Mond's voice trailed off as he suddenly realized something, his expression shifting to disbelief.
"No, wait."
Fortunately, Otto quickly denied the implication and guided the conversation: "And if the enemy is several times stronger?"
Mond thought hard and hesitated before answering, "Strengthen our allies, undermine the pirates' reputation, and seek to stand on equal footing."
Back when the pirates of the Three Daughters were rampant, he had done just that by joining forces with the Lannisters and the fleet of Greenstone.
"Exactly."
Otto smiled. "The Crown Prince has won a great victory and is at the height of his fame. We should avoid direct confrontation for now and focus on consolidating our power."
"Alicent is isolated, and her children alone won't be able to make a difference."
Mond was not optimistic about their chances.
Otto shook his head and said firmly, "We were wrong before, trying to incite internal strife within the Targaryen bloodline."
"What we should truly do is strengthen the children's recognition of House Hightower, ensuring they remain tightly bound to their mother—whether she is queen or queen dowager."
As long as the children remain devoted to their mother, they will always protect her.
Mond was deeply shaken and exclaimed, "You're right! What child wouldn't want to protect their mother?"
Otto stood up, patted Mond on the shoulder, and said, "Don't overthink it. Let the Crown Prince take what he wants. The real battlefield has always been in King's Landing."
Mond drew his own conclusion: "If the Crown Prince seeks to challenge the Faith of the Seven, we can use that against him to weaken his authority."
"Heh, perhaps."
Otto's gaze was deep and unreadable as he turned his back to his brother and left the chamber.
...
The Starry Sept.
The moon hung high in the sky, and the stars sparkled brilliantly.
Rhaegar sat in the grand hall of the sept, a massive sword of milky-white, glass-like steel placed before him.