Welcome, friends. I am the Three-Eyed Monkey.
My sigil bears a flayed banana on a field of emerald green. A naked banana has few secrets, but a flayed banana’s got none.
It is said that a monkey who never reads lives only one life before he dies, but I have lived a thousand.
I have worn the skins of Starks when the cold winds rose and winter fell. I walked through fire in Targaryen shoes as the night came alive with the music of dragons. I chased cats in King’s Landing, rode an elk through the Haunted Forest, and soared high above vast grasslands on dark wings.
I have sailed with kraken on seas of boiling blood and swam in rivers of green fire. I unsheathed Dawn in the Prince’s Pass as seven grey riders approached on horses made of mist, donned the greathelm of Ser Robert Strong and watched, silent as a shadow, still as a stone. I forged chains in the Citadel of Oldtown and a sword in the sacred fires of the temple, searched the flames through the eyes of Melisandre, and stared right back with a thousand eyes and one.
I chilled in the black cells, the sky cells, the cells of White Harbor, and burned in the dungeons of the Great Pyramid of Meereen. I passed through the Black Gate, the Mud Gate, and the Gates of the Moon. The Dragon Gate, the Lion Gate, and the Old Gate too, closed and barred as they were. I have even stepped through the red door and stood under the lemon tree.
I have lost much and more. Fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, daughters, sons, friends and foe. Kings, trials, battles and wars, companions, a horse, and a dog. Some fingers, a hand, most of my nose, and more heads than even the North can remember. Lost blood and tears, my pride and my sanity, as well as my faith in the gods. Honor, courage, fear, freedom, the truth and love above all. I lost everything but I found something too and remembered things ofttimes forgotten.
I once wanted to write my own songs and live them. To dance with dragons, to riddle with sphinxes, and to taste the Dornishman’s Wife. To stand on top of the Wall and piss off the edge of the world. To visit the Isle that no one visits. Then, one cold winter’s day, as I brooded over my reflection in the God’s Eye, hard words of truth came to me, whispered like wind through the trees, and now I only sing the songs that better men have made.
Some say I am a dreamer. Some say a brigand, a knight, or a king. Others call me a fool, but you shall have the truth of A Song of Ice and Fire from me, I promise you. I swear it in the eyes of gods and men, by the old gods and the new.
See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Words every monkey with a third eye lives by. With two eyes you can see a story’s face. With three you can see its heart. The seeing, the true seeing, that is the heart of it. But beware, the third eye is full of a terrible knowledge.
Come and see.