Don't own anything.
Chapter 1
"Why should we grant you sanctuary?" said one of the archmaesters, sitting behind a long table scrutinizing Raven's every move and breath. With a gentle nudge from Azar, Raven stepped forward from her mentor's shadow.
"I am Lady Raven from Azarath. I am the sole heir of Trigon the Terrible." Gasps were heard around the room. Whispers traveled from maester to maester. Raven felt the emotions of every single person in the Conclave. Alarm, fear, dread, hostility. Among them, Raven felt a single person standing there in awe.
"I believe we demanded why we should allow you in, not reasons for why we should not. Child, your 'father' is but a myth, a bedtime story told to unruly children." Chuckles were heard around the room. Raven stood frozen, humiliated. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. She felt a familiar hand on her shoulder, a welcoming gesture from her mentor.
Raven took that as permission from Azar to show the archmaesters the truth they clearly shied away from. Looking around the room, her sight stopped on the golden armillary sphere fastened from the ceiling. Lifting a hand from inside her cloak, she enveloped the sphere in her dark energy and gently brought it down. Before it could reach the floor, Raven let it drop causing a clang to resonate around the hall. If the spectacle of her dark energy was not enough to take their notice, the smashing sound was. With her hands and eyes still enveloped in her energy, one archmaester could be heard laughing.
"I was right," He laughed some more. "I was right!" The laughter was from none other than the Citadel's resident master of magic and the occult, Archmaester Marwyn the Mage. Ignoring the animated maester, another one began to speak in wake of the recent silence. "You still have not answered our query. Why should we grant you sanctuary?"
Azar stepped up, satisfied with how her pupil had handled the situation. "A war is coming. Bigger than her, bigger than all of you. We will need each other. Without the support, we will all perish. In exchange of her safety, Azarath is ready to offer you your biggest desire – knowledge. From the known and unknown worlds."
"And what if we refuse?" Another voice chimed in.
"The Narrow Sea leaves nothing to the imagination. It is what it is. Narrow. The war will reach you in time. It might even start in your beloved kingdoms. You will also be rejecting knowledge that may aid you in the coming seasons." Azar could see them acquiesce in their decision. The price for Raven's safety was small to the Azarathians, but for the maesters it was the world.
After some muttering among the archmaesters, a decision had been reached. "Very well. She will be sent to a land far away from here. She will be pupil to one with a Valyrian link. We promise not that you will be welcomed. Your safety, on the other hand, we will do our best to keep. You leave tomorrow at first light."
The sentence had been dealt. No crime had been committed but Raven still felt guilt and unease about the situation. Azar would not be following her wherever they sent her. She must go back to protect Azarath. To protect her mother from her father. Her mother. Her father. The words raised more questions than they answered. She only saw the woman she called mother a few times through out her life. She had never met her father. She was lucky. For if she met him, only bad things would come.
As Raven laid her head on the pillow that night, she prayed for darkness. For nothingness. For no nightmares to plague her sleep.
Come first light, Raven woke up to Azar stroking her hair. "Dear child, forgive me. I tried to protect you but ultimately, I could not." Her hands picked up Raven's circlet, a small golden crown embellished with red gems. She positioned it atop Raven's head, just like she had since she first arrived in Azarath. It did well to hide the red gem on her forehead. "Azarath loves you, child. Never forget that."
All Raven could do was nod, for she knew not how to respond to such a declaration.
"You will be escorted north. I was told there is more land than populace. Ideal for an empath. One of the archmaesters will accompany you and assure your safe arrival." Azar revealed as they neared the ship that would take Raven and the archmaester most of the way. Before boarding, Azar made sure Raven's cloak was tied. "Remember you are never alone. Azarath is always with you." With those parting words, Raven walked onto the ship with an archmaester behind her. She stayed in the same position, as the ship moved farther away from the port, watching her mentor. Until she was no more but a speckle in the distance.
A figure moved adjacent to her as the ship rocked in the water. "Archmaester Perestan, at your service, my lady." Raven gave no hint of listening to him but a gentle and shy nod.
"Raven is fine. What are you archmaester of?" Her voice was soft and yet, still confident.
"History." Raven perked up at that. Her love for all things knowledge would not quiver in the face of strangers. "Interested?" All Raven had to do was look up for the archmaester to begin lecturing. She was captivated with everything he said, so much so that some hours passed before he finished. "And that is why I believe the world is forty thousand years old."
Raven was still taking in his theories. They were fascinating. Unbeknownst to her, her emotions were clearly conveyed in her indigo colored eyes. Had the maester not known her identity, he would have proclaimed her a Targaryen bastard. Yet, she was too young. All Targaryens were killed before she could have been conceived.
"May I know where we are sailing to?" Raven brought up as she watched the waves clash against the ship.
"You will see soon enough, Raven." The archmaester uttered. Their journey would be all but over when they reached land. They still had to ride to their destination. "Soon."
