Above Harrenhal, the battle between the dragons had become utterly one-sided.
Winter and the two stone dragons controlled by the horn surrounded the largest stone dragon, which carried Stannis.
Frost, lightning, and black dragonfire wove a curtain of death.
Cracks covered its obsidian shell. Lava seeped through them, sending steam billowing upward.
Stannis's mount roared in agony, every struggle stripping more pieces from its shattered body.
Stannis sat on the dragon's back, battered by fierce winds and waves of heat.
The flames on the broken Lightbringer in his hand flickered, brightened and dimmed, then finally went out.
He watched helplessly as the enormous creature beneath him crumbled under the assault, every impact shaking him to his marrow.
He had once believed this was the ultimate power granted by the Lord of Light, a chance to rewrite his destiny.
Yet now, at the sound of Lynn's horn, that power had turned against him.
His "divine might" seemed so fragile against Winter's icy breath and lightning.
With an earth-shattering crack, the largest stone dragon could endure no more.
It broke apart in midair, obsidian fragments raining down amid splattering lava.
Stannis fell from its back and slammed into the scorched earth outside Harrenhal.
His armor buckled in several places. His helmet rolled away, exposing a face smeared with dust and blood.
The broken sword in his hand was lost entirely during the fall.
Lord of Light.
The voice in his mind that had once guided and beguiled him had fallen utterly silent.
There was no revelation, no guidance, not even a trace of mercy.
He had been abandoned...
Discarded like a tool that had outlived its usefulness.
The fanaticism that had long clouded his mind vanished the instant the stone dragon shattered.
Clarity.
An unprecedented clarity instantly restored his reason.
What did