I had to admit that the intertwined weirwood trees knows as The Three Singers was impressively massive. It stood in the middle of the Highgarden godswood and the entire place was lush and green, unlike the dark and dreary version back in Winterfell. However, it still had the same presence when we approached the heart tree.

When we neared the spot where people prayed, the guard Erryk hung back, as did Olenna's two grandsons, Loras and Garlan. The old woman didn't show any indication that she could feel anything come from the tree when we stopped in the spot.

“Praise be to the old gods for the miracle delivered to my grandson, Willas.” Olenna said, her voice flat. It clearly showed that she had no passion for the words or any real belief for the faith, which made me wonder why she would bother, if she didn't actually feel grateful to them. That was when I realized it was part of her image and she paid lip service to religion, in case anyone saw her.

I patted her hand on my arm and she gave me a single raised eyebrow. “I've go this.”

Olenna let out a little huff and motioned towards the massive tree as she let my arm go.

I took a single step and knelt on one knee. I pulled out a dagger and the guard hissed at me. I chuckled at his reaction and sliced the weapon across my palm, which made Olenna and her two grandsons hiss instead. They were not used to having someone mutilate themselves in front of them.

“Praise be to the old gods that still watch over us, even if most people don't want them to.” I said and flicked my hand at the nearest bulbous root.

The presence flared and Olenna caught her breath as the pressure around us increased to where a normal person could feel it. That wasn't a surprise to me, however. It was the hidden set of eyes I could now sense looking at me that caught my attention.

I pretended to ignore it as I raised my still bleeding hand, as if I was going to fling more blood, then I held my hand out towards the three-eyed raven I hadn't seen before and made my hand into a fist as my telekinesis grabbed it. Now that I was technically in contact with it, I saw the old man that had buried himself in the main heart tree all the way up north near the top of the continent.

Oh, now I see what's going on. You're using the weirwoods to extend your telepathy. I thought.

Wh-who are you? The old man asked and was nervous about me paralyzing him.

Someone that doesn't really need to piggyback on an existing network, it's just convenient. I thought. Your plan won't work with me here, you know. I've already changed things.

I don't know what you're talking about. The old man denied. Let me go before I become angry.

I had to smile at that. I'm sorry, did you just have thoughts to threaten my Arya? Someone I already promised to do everything for?

He tried to block off his mind and started to struggle with all of his psychic might as he called upon the inherent magic of the godswoods. It would have been impressive if I hadn't already met one of the Children of the Forest and saw her do the same thing.

That won't work, either. I've already given the trees my blood, completely willingly and without conditions. I thought and the magic immediately cut off and the man seemed to wilt. Unlike what you've done to them for all these years, they actually like me.

The old man screamed in frustration as nothing he did worked, not even when he called out for help from the Children of the Forest that were taking shelter inside his corrupted heart tree. I watched from his perspective as the one I met formed through the protective bramble wall around his hiding place and she held up a bloody hand, one covered in my blood.

“No!” The old man shouted and his physical body tried to move, only it couldn't. He was buried too securely inside the roots of the tree.

“Goodbye.” The Child of the Forest said as she placed her bloody hand onto the root.

The old man screamed again, only in pain this time, as the roots holding him tensed and then grew thick as they compressed themselves together. They grew healthy for the first time in centuries and the old man died as the tree came back to life, which was fitting, I supposed.

The Child turned to look at me. “Please help us. My people are starving and dying.”

I smiled at her and reached out and placed my own bloody hand onto the root near where I knelt. I agreed to the Karma Point expenditure without looking at the total and suddenly felt the connection with all of the weirwood trees in Westeros and knew where all 13 godswoods were.

You only needed to ask. I thought and found out that she was right. More than half of the trees were withering and a few of them were either dead or on the brink of death. I cranked my regeneration up to 200% of normal and focused it solely on my blood.

“What are you doing?” Olenna asked as the pressure changed from oppressive to welcoming.

“Giving back something the world almost lost.” I said and I felt my blood flow along the connection between the trees. It was moving a lot faster than I thought it should and I felt the Child 'beside' me mentally and she shared her own connection to her people and the things they created to worship the old gods.

There was a rumbling sound around me and several gasps were heard. I had to ignore it for now, because I could feel the Child of the Forest as she hugged me mentally. Her hand was still on the main heart tree, like mine was in Highgarden, and she reluctantly let her conscious join mine.

You are

Old. She thought, her mind full of surprise, then she fully embraced it. Understand! Divine! Happy!

I almost laughed as her aged mind was reduced to only emotions of joy because she felt dwarfed by my own massive amount of lives lived and my experiences on so many worlds. I tried to reassure her and all she did was share a feeling of contentment and gratitude as our combined magic and powers spread out through all of the weirwoods. They rejuvenated before they expanded and grew, which was what the rumbling near me was.

As I watched, all of the heart trees had a teleportation circle formed behind them, just like I had made back in Winterfell. When the Child of the Forest had touched the magic circle, she had also copied how it felt and shared it with her people. Since they were connected to their creations, the weirwood forests, forming the stone circles in the same places was child's play, no pun intended.

The connection started to falter and I felt my blood and magic overflow, so I made sure each of the teleportation circles was set with their location names. They had enough magic and blood to finish things up and I eased off with the sharing and let the Children take care of spreading everything out as they saw fit.

I felt another wave of gratefulness and then a set of lips on mine. I opened my eyes and the neaely solid ghostly face of the one I met smiled at me before it faded away. I needed a moment to end my self modifications and healed myself from so much exertion. When I did, I took my hand away from the root and my wound was healed and my palm was blood free.

I stood up and stared at the massive tree that had shot up a good twenty feet and the branches had spread out and created a huge canopy. It looked like a normal tree, only it was white with blood red leaves. It also had blossoms on a few of its branches, which had never been recorded in any history books or stories of the world. Ever.

How did I know that? I asked myself and realized I had shared quite a bit more than I should have with her. I briefly checked my party status and saw my list of familiars had grown by the dozens, with unreadable names of each of the Children of the Forest, with the top one briefly gaining access to my Spark of Divinity perk. Oh, that'd do it.

“What did you do?” Olenna asked, her voice soft as she stared at the massive tree that had been revitalized. She hadn't seen the tree ever look healthy and she had been alive for half a century.

“A willingly given donation meant a lot more to the caretakers of the old gods than all the bloody sacrifices given to the trees over the centuries.” I said and stepped back from it.

Not surprisingly, the presence wasn't any more prevalent that it had been and had dropped back to its normal level. I turned to see her Olenna's surprised face and those of her grandsons and her guard.

“Shall we head to the sept and share a moment of worship with the Seven that are One?” I asked.

“No!” Loras gasped and his thoughts were about having to go through another feeling of judgment. He had passed one and he doubted he would pass another. He gave his grandmother a shocked look for his outburst, turned around, and ran for it.

Olenna didn't react for a moment, then she sighed and shook her head. “He doesn't understand that I'll love him, no matter who he chooses to spend time with. As long as he does it away from where others will see him, I won't care.”

“I think that's why he fled.” Garlan said. “He's afraid if he is caught, you'll hate him.”

Olenna shook her head. “I'll hate how others will react. We have enough people against us without that as well on top of everything else.”

Garlan could only nod and stepped aside for her.

“I think we should skip the sept for today.” Olenna said to me.

“As the lady commands.” I said and bowed slightly, then I offered her my arm.

“Let's go back to my personal garden.” Olenna said to her guard and Erryk nodded. “Jon Snow and I have a lot more to discuss than I thought we did.”

I held in my laugh at that, especially after what she just saw me do. Maybe I could get away with showing off a few other things, assuming she didn't declare me a witch or something and have me burned at the stake like Lady Catelyn would. Otherwise, I think Olenna's ambivalence about religion was going to change.

*

All over Westeros, in each of the remaining 13 godswoods, the woods were magically modified to add a teleportation circle. One of the ones to not have their heart tree revitalize and grow, was the one in the Red Keep, the castle with the Iron Throne inside, in Kings Landing. The heart tree there was actually a giant oak tree and wasn't a weirwood tree at all.

The other was the godswood in the Eryie of the Vale and they didn't have a heart tree at all. The ground there was too thin and stony for a weirwood to properly lay its roots down, and was more garden than forest. Since there was no weirwood heart tree there to affect, it didn't benefit as much the others did.

Casterly Rock in the westerlands, had a godswood inside a mountainous cave. The cave expanded to not have the weirwood heart tree choking out the other trees inside the Stone Garden, which no one would notice for quite some time.

Darry in the riverlands, used to have bare black branches that reached upwards and was now lush green forest. It's heart tree reached upwards with blood red leaves and the face carved into the bark had changed from a frown to a slight smile.

Deepwood Motte, otherwise known as the Deepwood, was farther north than Winterfell. It's godswood stood at the base of the hill the small castle stood on and everyone inside could easily see the change to their sacred site of worship.

Harrenhall in the riverlands, it's godswood spanned nearly twenty acres and had many different trees inside, like pines and sentinels, a sruce tree's taller cousin. Its heart tree had a terrible face carved into its bark and looked really angry, until it changed to only show a disapproving frown to those that looked upon it.

Riverrun, also in the riverlands, had tall redwoods, old elms, a mix of forest and garden, and flowers everywhere. The previously slender weirwood heart tree with a sad face was now a hearty and thick tree with a happy face on it.

Storm's End, on the east coast of The Reach, had a solemn-faced weirwood heart tree that now had a blank face, as if waiting to see what will happen next. The small forest around it seemed to shy away from the waters, since the autumn storms were some of the harshest in the area.

The Whispering Wood, near the castle ruins of The Whispers in the northeast crownlands, had a young and slender weirwood heart tree in the middle of an overgrown and untended forest. The sound of the wind that passed through the natural holes in the cliff walls, that overlooked the narrow sea, gave the place its name.

White Harbour had a godswood full of brroding trees that were a mix of tangled roots, branches, and stone. The weirwood heart tree was a massive specimen whose expansion could not be stopped by land, stone walls, or anything man-made. The angry face had gained a smug look as it breached even more walls, broke windows, and spread out even further.

Winterfell had a godswood that was three acres of untouched forest for nearly ten thousand years. Despite its smaller size for a forest, it had a wide mix of trees, like ash, elm, chestnut, pine, hawthorn, oak, and ironwood. The melancholy face in the heart tree now had a smile and the dark pool of still water nearby, was now crystal clear and seemed to shine with its own light.

However, the biggest change was at the last location, Raventree Hall, or just Ravenhall. It was the seat of power for House Blackwood and some of the trees of its godswood were as old as the towers of the ancient keep. The colossal weirwood tree in the center, its bare branches reaching hundreds of feet into the air, could be seen from leagues away, or nearly ten miles.

That wasn't the shocking thing for the people that lived there, though. The tree had been poisoned by their rivals, the Brackens, centuries ago and had died. It hadn't had leaves on its massive branches for nearly a thousand years, and since weirwood never rots, it would eventually turn to stone over the next thousand years.

Or it would have, if the thing hadn't mysteriously sprung back to life and caused an earthquake that spread across half of the region. The giant-sized roots of the previously dead tree regained their purchase upon the land it used for basic sustenance and every single branch was covered in blood red leaves and the hundreds of crows and ravens perched on the branches were now hidden from sight.

Needless to say, everyone that was nearby any of the godswoods, witnessed the changes and word spread all over very quickly to all the smallfolk. The godswoods had spoken! The old gods were looking at them once more and many of them flocked to pay their respects. They felt that they had lived a good life and didn't mind the extra scrutiny as they continued to live their lives.

As for the various rulers of those areas, some didn't believe it, some dismissed it as a trick, and others looked upon it as a sign of things to come. One of those was Ned Stark in Winterfell. Unlike other leaders that just humored their smallfolk and their religion, he was of the North and believed in the old gods himself. There were too many things in the world that couldn't be explained without some form of faith.

He had also just received a raven from the citadel about Jon Snow and Maester Luwin arriving and just barely missed the important gathering. What the note didn't contain was any details about his wayward daughter, Arya. Neither the caretakers nor the top maesters of the citadel, cared about two girls that didn't pique their interest.

It was a surprise to learn that Jon hadn't been allowed to stay within the citadel and he left to find accommodations somewhere else. Where would he go? Would he stay nearby in Oldtown and go to the appointments every few weeks like the maesters requested? Or would he give up the whole thing and return to the North?

As far as that was concerned, it made Ned pause. Why? Because the expensive and fancy carriage that the Stark family had used for years, couldn't be found anywhere. Did the boy sell it? Abandon it somewhere? Or did he destroy it to get back at him for how he was treated? How would the boy get himself and Arya back to Winterfell without a carriage?

The worst part about the entire affair was that he hadn't laid in the same bed as his lady wife for the entire time that Arya had been missing. His loins hurt from the absence of her warmth and he doubted they would ever share the same bed again until his youngest daughter once again roamed the halls of their home.