Rainbow-colored light streamed through the leaded-glass windows of the Great Sept's domed council chamber, illuminating countless dust motes dancing in the golden beams. The scent of incense filled the air, while candles flickered like stars before the statues of the Seven Gods.
The Seven are One, and One is Seven.
Arranged clockwise in a circle were the Father, the Warrior, the Maiden, the Stranger, the Crone, the Smith, and the Mother.
The gentle Mother looked down upon the world with compassion, but her statue was splattered with brown stains of blood. Her beautiful gemstone eyes had been stolen amid the chaos, leaving the Mother blind.
The Mother's expensive robes were gone. So were the Crone's gilded lantern, the Father's silver crown, and even the Warrior's gilded longsword. All had been taken during the confusion.
The candles before the Mother's statue had been knocked askew, as had those before the Maiden.
Only the Stranger, the embodiment of death, rarely received offerings. His eyes were nothing more than two black dots, silently watching the decay of life.
The Great Sept, once such a sacred place, had been transformed into a bloody battlefield.
"Kill the Sparrows!"
"The High Sparrow is harming the High Septon!"
"Drive these peasant Sparrows out! They're threatening the Septon!"
The monks of the Great Sept shouted furiously.
At first, they had lacked the courage to confront the Sparrows. But now that their numbers were overwhelming and the High Sparrow was dead, their confidence had returned.
"Kill these corrupt fanatics! They killed the High Sparrow!"
"Avenger the High Sparrow!"
The bearded Sparrows in their ragged clothing roared back defiantly. The death of their leader had driven them into a frenzy.
Some people remained rational, while others simply took advantage of the chaos to settle old grievances or steal whatever they could find.
But most were swept away by the madness of bloodshed.
Clubs and axes were swung wildly, while sharp swords sliced through flesh.
Most of the devotees wore no armor whatsoever. They relied only on their flesh and blood to withstand the violence.
The devout followers of King's Landing, along with the monks and nuns summoned by Olidor, joined the battle and soon became the dominant force.
The Sparrows fell one after another.
Bodies of Sparrows, monks, and devotees were scattered across the chamber. Severed hands and limbs littered the floor, while the severely wounded cried out in agony.
After several brutal clashes, the High Sparrow was dead.
His most loyal guards had also fallen, leaving only a handful of wounded Sparrows gathered around his corpse.
"The High Sparrow is dead!"
"The High Sparrow is dead, Mother!"
The remaining Sparrows surrounded his body, kissing his blood-soaked dark-red robes as tears streamed down their faces.
Then, suddenly, a mournful hymn echoed through the hall.
"Gentle Mother. The Mother brings the blessing of life. She watches over every wife, her smile ends all strife, gently nurturing every child."
A gray-robed nun who had participated in the fighting began reciting the prayer as she mourned the dead.
The severely wounded and other participants gradually joined her.
Their voices rose together like waves upon the sea.
Slowly, the sound became one unified chorus.
Eventually, everyone fell silent, praying to the Seven Gods and mourning their sins.
Whether they were Sparrows or younger monks and nuns of the Faith, all of them were intimately familiar with prayers to the Seven.
It was only because they had followed different paths that they had ended up killing one another.
"I am protecting you, High Septon."
Archbishop Olidor stood beside the trembling High Septon and wiped the sweat from the old man's face.
The stench of blood and death nearly made the elderly High Septon vomit.
Olidor had been right about the "storm."
The High Sparrow's followers were far too fanatical.
If they had successfully infiltrated the Great Sept, the High Septon would have fallen completely into their hands.
"Olidor, how could you...?"
The white-haired High Septon looked at him in disbelief.
"How could you allow good men and women to slaughter each other here?"
"The Seven Gods will condemn us! We have turned the Great Sept into a bloody slaughterhouse!"
"You're right," Olidor replied indifferently.
But inwardly, he cursed the High Septon for being a senile old fool.
The Sparrows' greed and influence would only continue to grow, yet the High Septon had foolishly believed that the High Sparrow was nothing more than a pawn who could easily be discarded.
Before long, the sound of hooves and heavy infantry footsteps echoed through the chamber.
A group of soldiers entered, their armor bearing various emblems—the knightly flower of House Tyrell, the runic pebble of another house, the sigil of House Thorne, and the trout of House Mooton.
The armored soldiers charged into the chamber with imposing momentum.
The onlookers and monks instinctively quieted.
Everyone knew the reputation of Randyll Tarly.
"Bloody" Tarly.
Randyll looked up at the devastated council chamber.
His eyes swept across the bodies covering the floor, the damaged statues, and the stolen treasures.
"Slaughter," he said coldly.
His gaze shifted toward the missing valuables.
"And theft."
Randyll wore chainmail beneath boiled leather armor, with a formidable gray-steel breastplate covering his chest.
The greatsword Heartsbane was strapped across his back.
As the supervisor of the Dragonpit project, Tarly had already been leading his men in the area when the disturbance occurred.
"Lord Randyll, this is truly..." Archbishop Olidor was the first to speak.
"The Sparrows carried the High Sparrow into our meeting chamber and even attempted to kidnap the High Septon."
"That's right."
The other archbishops immediately echoed his words.
"I never wanted things to turn out this way," the High Septon said mournfully, "but the High Sparrow had become far too fanatical."
"It seems we will have to conduct a trial," Randyll said.
He looked around at the devotees who had participated in the chaos.
"According to custom, a thief must have a finger cut off."
"Stealing from the Sept, which belongs to the Gods, is a crime upon a crime."
"However, given the chaos that occurred today, anyone who stole something and returns it now will receive seven lashes."
"If I discover the stolen goods myself, the punishment will be seven fingers."
His cold words immediately frightened some of the thieves.
Unable to withstand the pressure, several people stepped forward and surrendered the things they had stolen.
There were robes, jewels, religious ornaments, and even silver-threaded Septon's robes among the recovered items.
"Take them outside and administer their punishment."
Randyll's soldiers escorted the thieves to the square, where each received seven lashes.
The thefts were easy enough to resolve.
The real problem was the Sparrows.
"Please allow me to express my condolences for them," the High Septon said solemnly.
"They are merely the Mother's lost children."
He looked at the devastation around him.
Only a few Sparrows remained, clinging to the High Sparrow's corpse while singing mournful dirges.
The Silent Sisters appeared from somewhere and began cleaning up the aftermath.
"They are all lost children," Olidor said.
"Let these people be buried alongside the fallen monks."
The other monks immediately praised him.
"Bishop Olidor truly is a compassionate man."
"He has shown great mercy."
Once again, the sound of approaching hooves echoed through the chamber.
Gendry, Yohn Royce, and several others soon arrived.
By then, the council chamber had been cleaned considerably.
Only the High Sparrow's corpse remained in the center, surrounded by the last few surviving followers.
The High Sparrow's body lay on the ground while several slender and weak-looking Sparrows wept around him.
It was almost miraculous that they had survived the slaughter.
Gendry wore black leather armor beneath a yellow cloak.
Obsidian stag pins and red-gold dragon pins decorated his shoulders.
"Your Highness."
Randyll stepped aside and briefly explained the situation.
Yohn Royce, the Master of Laws, frowned.
"For something like this to happen... it is truly a scandal of the century."
Although House Royce was descended from the First Men, the Vale was not as isolated as the North. House Royce had also intermarried with the Andals over the generations.
"Indeed, Lord Yohn," the High Septon said mournfully.
Gendry looked toward the surviving officials.
"What did the High Sparrow say before he died?"
"He said that the Lannisters killed him, Your Highness," Archbishop Olidor answered.
Gendry was slightly surprised.
The High Sparrow might have been fanatical, but he certainly wasn't foolish.
To make such a statement before his death...
It seemed he was deliberately cooperating with Gendry's performance, trying to find a way to protect the remaining Sparrows.
"Your Highness," Yohn Royce said, "although I am the Master of Laws, I suggest that Lord Randyll handle this matter."
As a descendant of the First Men, he felt it would be awkward for him to interfere directly in a dispute involving the Faith.
Gendry looked at Randyll.
"Lord Randyll, you handle this matter."
"Yes, Your Highness."
The High Septon immediately stepped forward.
"The High Sparrow's assault against the Church was an unforgivable crime."
"But... considering his many years of service to the common people, I request that he be allowed to rest in the Church's crypt."
This was not a sudden awakening of his conscience.
The High Septon knew that as the man who had presided over the Faith while the Great Sept became a slaughterhouse, he could not escape responsibility.
If the Church did nothing, another group of Sparrows would inevitably appear sooner or later.
"And these Sparrows are also misguided children," he continued.
"I ask that their crimes be reduced and that they be given a chance to atone."
Before anyone could respond, one of the surviving Sparrows bravely stepped forward.
"Your Highness, the High Sparrow should not rest in some luxurious cemetery."
"We ask that he be buried beside the Kingsroad."
"He spent his life serving small villages and ordinary people."
"He belongs there."
Gendry considered his words for a moment.
"Granted."
High Sparrow.
Sparrows.
Perhaps the wilderness and the roadside were indeed where such people belonged.
Randyll turned toward the remaining Sparrows.
"You few were not the primary instigators of today's violence, but you cannot escape the crime of participating in the slaughter."
He glanced toward the High Septon.
"Considering the High Septon's intercession on your behalf, your punishment will be reduced."
"Originally, you were to receive seven lashes."
"Now, you will receive three."
Gendry nodded.
The remaining Sparrows prepared to leave and accept their punishment before carrying the High Sparrow's body away.
"Wait."
Gendry suddenly raised his hand.
He removed his yellow cloak and walked toward the High Sparrow's body.
Gendry stood silently over the corpse.
The High Sparrow had been a tall, gaunt man with a stern expression, gray hair, and countless wrinkles covering his face.
His body had suffered countless wounds.
There were dagger wounds, cuts, and injuries caused by clubs.
His body was covered in blood, yet strangely, his face had remained untouched.
Gendry stared at him for a long moment before speaking.
"For an old man like this to become a Sparrow, and for so many ordinary people to become Sparrows, is ultimately the responsibility of us knights."
"A knight's duty is to protect the weak and innocent."
"We should have protected these people better."
He gently draped his yellow cloak over the High Sparrow's body.
Perhaps you would have wanted this as well, High Sparrow.
Fewer Sparrows in the world.
The true reason Sparrows appeared was not simply because of the High Sparrow's ambitions.
It was because of the madness and hypocrisy of countless nobles and knights.
Because they were the ones who had failed the people.
"Because we are sinful, we repent."
The High Septon and the archbishops also began to pray, confessing their sins and transgressions before the Seven Gods.
"You possess true chivalry."
"Thank you for not ordering the High Sparrow's head to be cut off."
The remaining Sparrows knelt before Gendry in gratitude.
They lowered their heads and kissed the ground where he had stood.
With tears in their eyes, the surviving Sparrows eventually left the chamber.
After receiving their three lashes, they limped away and returned to collect the High Sparrow's body.
They intended to carry him back to a small village along the Kingsroad, where he would be buried among the common people he had once served.
"Where will you go after this?" someone asked curiously.
The surviving Sparrow looked back.
"The Westerlands."
"The Sparrows will never forget their hatred for the lion."
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