"Holy" water

From Darean's perspective.

From Jon Arryn being poisoned to death by his own dear wife, all the way to the final direct clash of ice and fire in the North.

Through all those years of upheaval, the Seven, who dominated religious belief throughout Westeros, had never played even the slightest useful role.

Oh, that was not entirely accurate.

A High Sparrow with outrageous audacity had turned up and stripped the reigning queen mother, Cersei Lannister, stark naked.

The men of King's Landing had briefly enjoyed a king's privileges.

But the consequence was that a "completely deranged" Cersei had stuffed wildfire beneath the Great Sept of Baelor.

With a thunderous boom.

She had blown away every last member of House Tyrell, who had seemed on the verge of a sweeping victory, in one clean stroke.

Only the Queen of Thorns remained in Highgarden, utterly losing her mind.

That had driven the entire South firmly into opposition to the Iron Throne.

The roses were admittedly terrible at fighting, but that was also the result of years of upheaval, their vassals becoming estranged and their strength being exhausted.

If the hundred thousand troops who had supported Renly back then had still been around, it would have been another story.

Back to the point.

Throughout that whole process, the Seven had done nothing but stand by, while their earthly disciples stirred up trouble.

Yet now, Darean saw faint fluctuations of magic in ordinary members of the Faith.

Hmm?

Were the Seven manifesting their power?

Puzzled inwardly, Darean showed nothing on his face.

Instead, he immediately went forward to greet them.

After all, ever since House Hightower founded Oldtown, they had been the greatest financial backers behind the entire Faith.

Whether they received dividends, he did not know.

But Darean knew perfectly well that if Baelor decided to become a septon on the spot, the Faith would at least make him a high-ranking septon. They might even stick "the Blessed" onto his name and turn him into Baelor the Blessed.

That last part was nonsense, but the general idea was about right.

The old man had even greater influence within the Faith, having been such a generous patron for so many years.

Moreover, House Hightower's armed forces effectively provided protection for the temporarily "defenseless" Faith.

After all, the term "Faith Militant" was rather too provocative and liable to bring down the Iron Throne's merciless iron fist...

Darean had barely begun construction here.

The Faith of the Seven had immediately sent over a group of devout brothers.

What was rather strange was that Darean discovered far more septas than septons among them.

And every one of them had generous curves and a knockout figure.

Tsk... what were you lot trying to do? Test an official's resolve with this?

A few images formed in Darean's head.

With considerable effort, Darean forced his eyes away from those particular places and began sensing the magic moving through these people.

It was very weak, nowhere near his own.

But it was definitely there, and its presence was stable.

Its "flavor" was different from his, too.

Taken as a whole, the sensation was exactly the same as what he had felt from Septon Derrian back then.

Darean was certain that when he first gained magical sight, these septons and septas had possessed no magic whatsoever.

Had the revival of the Magic Tide already begun having effects without my knowing?

Darean wondered.

He remembered that what had truly affected the entire world was Daenerys Targaryen hatching three dragons in Essos.

That was generally considered the sign that magic had begun to revive.

The return of the dragons had brought a tide of magic.

That was what people had always said.

Yet now, counting things off on his fingers, he reckoned Daenerys should not even have seen a Dragon Egg yet.

Then the changes before his eyes necessarily had nothing whatsoever to do with the little queen.

So what was going on?

"Euse, my lord."

The septon leading the group came before Darean and gave a septon's bow, his tone gentle.

Darean did not understand.

"What?"

With considerable patience, the septon bowed again and said:

"My lord, you may call me Euse. That is my name."

Darean nodded, then listened as the middle-aged septon who called himself Euse continued:

"Guided by the Seven, I have come to this sunlit land to bring the Lord's gospel to you and your people."

"I hope you can help us build a sept. My brothers and sisters will give your people the guidance of the Seven."

He understood what the man had come for.

Darean simply nodded again.

This was not the era he had lived in before.

Here, religion was the best tool for helping monarchs, or landed nobles like himself, govern.

But the problem was, where was he supposed to find spare hands to build these people a sept right now?

Was that thing useful?

He could not say it was not, but it was certainly no urgent necessity.

So Darean could only answer tactfully:

"Ah, of course. Dareon Hightower welcomes your arrival."

"As for the sept, speak to my steward. He knows more about the construction here than I do."

He was telling the truth, anyway. As long as they could get that miser to spare them some workers, Darean had no objection to building a sept.

At the very least, things like stability and territorial cohesion were bound to improve.

No loss either way. I wasn't the one getting a headache over it, anyway.

"Very well."

There was nothing Euse could do, either.

He looked at the bustling construction work throughout the domain behind them and felt that Darean did seem to have a point.

So the group headed toward Darean's temporary wooden hut.

As they walked, Euse seemed to spot something suddenly and abruptly changed direction.

He very nearly made Darean, who was leading the way, wrench his back.

The group went straight toward some workers who might have just sat down for a rest.

Darean frowned almost imperceptibly.

Were these people planning to simply snatch the workers away to build their sept?

That wouldn't do. Rules were rules!

Darean would not let these people do whatever they pleased just because they had the Seven behind them.

When necessary, no matter who they were, he would not hesitate to bring down the blade.

However, things did not seem to be going as Darean had imagined.

The workers, who were gulping water from wooden ladles, rose one after another when they saw Euse and the others.

Nobles could afford not to pay the Faith much heed, but for commoners at the bottom, the Faith was part of their lives.

"Greetings, Septon. Have you come here to spread the Lord's gospel?"

A reasonably well-spoken man addressed him respectfully.

Euse nodded:

"Of course. That is precisely why we have come!"

The fellow fished a little bottle out from inside the hem of his robe.

Before anyone could so much as jingle a bell, he dripped its contents into the vat of water.

"The merciful Seven grant you precious holy water. May weariness depart from your bodies."

Hmm? Wasn't holy water used to baptize believers?

Why did this feel so much like adding seasoning?

Darean's head was full of questions.

Yet when his gaze fell on the vat into which the so-called holy water had been dripped, his breath abruptly caught.

A hazy shimmer of magic was swirling through that vat of water.

The holy water really was "holy"!