Game of Thrones: King of Magic

Chapter 21

Solomon. Braavos.

The Black and White House had many different rooms, but only two were spacious.

The first room was a half-empty hall. It was lit by small windows in the ceiling of the building and candles generously placed around the perimeter. In its center was a small pool of water, odorless and colorless. Around it were statues or symbols of the local gods.

I recognized the Drowned God, the Weeping Mistress, the Lion of Night, the Black Goat, and the symbols of the Old Gods and R'Glor in the form of a Weirwood and a burning heart, respectively.

The second room, where I was now with the "human", was under the building and was a really huge space with rows of columns stretching straight up to the ceiling and lit only by candles.

Columns with human faces on them.

I wandered between the columns and scrutinized the faces of people unknown to me, while the "man" silently followed me, as if to portray a servant.

The faces of men, women, old men and children alternated with each other, forming an eerie but mesmerizing picture.

"Valar morghulis" is a phrase used by the faceless ones of the Black and White House. A phrase that translates to, "All men are mortal." Death doesn't discriminate between people based on wealth or deeds. It simply comes and takes someone with it when their time comes. Inevitable and patient. And that's what the Black and White House believes.

My hand slowly touched one of the columns, and the next moment I felt a cold and indifferent breath. It was as if Death itself stood before me, apathetically watching and patiently waiting.

In response, I only smiled softly and stroked the statue affectionately. And then something happened that really surprised me.

The eyes of the thousand faces fixed in the stone opened and turned toward me. There was no threat, no anger, no joy or approval in them, just intrigue. They studied me while my hand made contact with the stone and the "man" knelt down.

- You do not fear death. Why? - Because this is your fourth cycle, or because you know it's your fourth cycle? Or because you know what lies beyond the boundary of life?

- Why should I fear the one who will meet me at the end, no matter what I do? As strange as it may sound, only two will accept a person no matter what they are - Mother and Death. - Taking off my hood, I replied.

- "Death's embrace is like a mother's embrace." Is that your answer, soul?

- A mother's love is boundless, as is Death's patience.

There was silence in the hall for a few moments. The flames of the candles swayed in the faint breeze that came from nowhere. A second later, they all suddenly went out, covering my vision in pitch blackness.

The feeling of stone in my hand slowly disappeared, replaced by something as cold as ice and as shapeless as fog or clouds. I stared into the void in front of me.

There was nothing up ahead that my eyes could see, but I knew it wasn't true. Out of the pitch darkness, I was being watched. Peering and sizing me up. Until I felt another hand lay on my arm, resembling the texture of thick smoke.

- You are... worthy...

A distant voice sounded out of the darkness, like a whisper or a lullaby, and then I felt the smoky hand dissolve into mine. Following this, the candles flickered again, bringing light back into the room. The eyes and mouths of the faces were tightly shut, as if nothing had happened a few minutes ago, and my hand was still on the column, bringing back the feeling of the cold stone of which it had been made.