Gerris looked up. His face was pale. “Maester? Are we… are we real?”
The book had been found in the ruins of a watchtower along the Skirling Pass, buried beneath a collapsed slate roof. A wildling had sold it to a ranger for a bag of salt beef. The ranger had given it to the Lord Commander, who had given it to the raven master, who had sent it south to the Citadel. And now it lay before them. libros de cancion de hielo y fuego
“I have seen the truth in the obsidian mirrors,” the archmaester had written. “Our world is not the only world. There are others. In one, the dragon hatched. In another, the wolf ate the lion. In a thousand more, the long summer never ended. We are but one song in a library of endless shelves. And the singers? They are not gods. They are men with ink-stained fingers, writing us even now.” Gerris looked up
But it was the final entry that chilled the air. Are we… are we real
At the top, he wrote: “The Song of Ice and Fire – A True History.”