The weirwood extended Bloodraven's life, but also limited the ways he could exert his power.
The Three-Eyed Crow neither ate nor drank. He was always sleeping, always dreaming, always watching.
At that thought, Gendry felt somewhat reassured.
The world originally established by the Old Gods relied on weirwoods, but now nearly everyone in the south had abandoned the Old Gods. Very few weirwoods remained, though objects made from weirwood still existed...
"The future twists and changes. I observe, I predict, but the future changes in countless ways. Even when I poured all my effort into working out tens of millions of endings, most were sorrowful. What I never foresaw, however, was this future in which you changed the course of events," the Three-Eyed Crow said.
"Now I am considering a new future," the crow said. "A world shaped by your power, Gendry the Liberator, First of His Name."
"You want to work with me, but how can I trust you?" Gendry watched the crow. The fiery aura emanating from the magic dragons kept the flock a certain distance from him.
"You are powerful, and cunning too, child," the crow cawed. "Like the Arbitrator, only a powerful, confident, cunning king is a true king. I am an apostle of the Old Gods, but I still love my brothers. If possible, I will find a balance between the two."
"What constitutes balance?"
"At least things cannot be worse than they are now. The Old Gods must retain the North, whether beyond the Wall or in the North itself. If the Cold God wins, the Old Gods will surely be destroyed."
Gendry understood that this was the crow's bottom line. Decline was the fate of the Old Gods, but that decline could not continue without limit.
"The Cold God... do the Old Gods