(Epilogue – Port Yhos: 10/29/298 AC) Ivory
Acrid black smoke crept up from the splintered wood, soiled rags, and broken bodies littering the burning hellscape surrounding her. In the distance, cries of pain and terror added to the nightmare unfolding before her. A nightmare that started at dawn and refused to relent. Her time with the pirates had taught her that kindness, and gentle hands were as dry wood, quick to burn in the fires of cruelty and violence. She bore the experience like armor, and even on the verge of freedom, she still felt fear. She still felt its burning golden eyes upon her. The barrels in which she sought refuge, seemed to barely hide her quivering withered form. In the swirling black smoke, and azure flames, she saw the crimson demoness, and her four black-armored sentinels, wading through the twisted mess of charred, mutilated corpses. She saw the creature, wearing a woman's fair face, summon lightning from her inhumanly smooth fingertips, before releasing an arcane bolt of energy at a makeshift barricade of overturned wagons, broken doors, and assorted debris from nearby fallen buildings. The barrier splintered and burned away in a violent flash, revealing, in that brief instant, a group of cowering and terrified forms being mangled by the bits of wood and metal thrown back in the blast. The woman stalked through the flames without fear or concern, only offering the barest of acknowledgement to a crying legless boy trailing bits of gore at her feet. The faint cries of which, were lost in the fiery tempest all around them. The pair of bloody stumps were the only evidence that the boy had, only moments ago, been whole.
"Fire Lord!" she heard a voice echo through the roaring flames. Turning to the voice, five individuals bearing the demoness' likeness of look, in both clothing and armor, came up beside her and presented a strange salute of palm over fist. One of the crimson warriors removed a skull-faced helm, and held it at her side, revealing a stony-face woman with a scarred face.
'Like mine,' she couldn't help but think in the moment.
"Report!" the Firewoman roared, turning away from the crawling boy. "Tell me you have located the girl?"
"Apologies, Fire Lord, but we have not. I tracked the man our spies reported to have been in dealings with the priestess, but he led me to nothing save his ship and a squad of mutes. I attempted to capture him for questioning, but he…I believe he may have had the substance. Though it felt somewhat different, but no less debilitating, I was forced to end him before he did the same to us."
"What?!" the woman hissed, then turned with gritted teeth towards the desperate boy. "Quiet!" she thundered, before running him through with a smoky black sword that shimmered in the cerulean light. The Yi-Tish sorceress seemed to relax somewhat before addressing the female warrior. "What of the priestess or the pirate holding the girl?"
"No sign, as of yet, Fire Lord," the woman stood stiffly as she spoke. "But I am confident there will be, as Commanders Lee and Meng have nearly secured the coast. So it won't be long now."
The Demoness placed a finger under her chin, as glittering goldeneyes studied the woman, before shifting out towards the area where Ivory hid. Her heart skipped a beat as twin amethysts met their topaz counterparts, before the burning yellow orbs passed her by. "Let's hope so," the disturbingly velvety voice stated, piercing cleanly through the inferno. "Continue your sweep, capture as many able-bodied men as possible. Qyburn requires more subjects. As for the rest? No witnesses. No survivors. I want nothing but ashes left of this cesspool."
"Your will be done, Fire Lord," the warrior and her retinue saluted before dashing back from whence they came.
The Yi-Tish witch stood silently, watching as the warrior woman vanished from sight, before following suit and disappearing behind the towering flames with her four dark-armored guardians. Mesmerized by the sight, Ivory froze, before she felt a familiar hand clasp around her mouth and tasted its salty sourness. Choking down her rising bile, she thrashed and woke from her nightmare. 'No,' she corrected herself. 'Not a nightmare. A memory.' Nudging the unwashed hand aside, she felt its numerous callouses scratch her parched skin. 'A pity she didn't capture you…' A hot breath caressed her naked back, but the lack of words, indicated that her 'lover' remained fast asleep. Their hurried trek across the Summer Sea had left them all exhausted, save for her. The captain of their ship, Lazorno, had not had the time to pay her mind during the chase, which was just as well, for she cared not to take more of his strikes and foul seed. Unfortunately, the past few days had seen their mysterious pursuers vanish, and now the smell of rotten onions and putrid fish permeated their small quarters aboard 'the Bloody Woman.' She remained laying on her side, hands beneath her head, eyes staring straight into a grimy mirror holding her ugly reflection. A lantern burned softly at the corner of the room, just out of her reach, and giving off just enough light to illuminate her desiccated features. Her eyes were sunken in and bloodshot, while traces of dried blood clung to her even drier lips. Around her ankles she felt the weight of the iron shackles and heavy chains binding her to the steel ring at the base of the floor near her small cot. A series of four jagged scars ran down the left side of her face, serving as a grisly reminder of her time under the tender care of the ship's former captain. 'Vargyros,' she bristled at the name, as she continued staring at the memories he had sown upon her body. A cacophony of burns and an occasional patch of unblemished skin cascaded down her left arm, while the bones within felt far older than they had any right to be. She clenched her fists, remembering the hot poker that had been used when she had been with child nearly five years ago. The experience of which had left her unable to have children. Not that she had had any wish to have them born into a life such as hers. 'I pray the Demoness captured you, Varg, you little shit,' a small smile crept onto her lips at the thought, and she tasted iron. Ivory licked away the familiar taste, her eyes keenly focused upon the dreadful mirror and the fresh welts of bruised flesh, resting around her neck and right cheek. 'What if I broke you and used the shattered glass to slit my own throat? Or the throat of this oaf?' she thought of Lazorno at her back. 'No! I have not endured, just to kill myself now,' she withdrew from the idle thought. 'I can't crew a ship on my own and those lecherous pirates would just as soon rape me to death. Though I wouldn't make it easy for them….' Ivory felt a burning rage in her chest. 'One day I'll be rid of you lot. And if you just so happen to be at my mercy, I will not show it…' As she continued staring at her reflection, the oddest sort of fascination began to boil over at her silvery white hair. While cut short, and scraggly, it still seemed to maintain a stubbornly healthy fullness that continued to baffle her even after all the torment she had suffered for as long as she could remember.
She remained motionless, deep in thought and wishing to sleep, but finding herself unable to accomplish even that. 'The night was dark,' she could tell, even behind closed doors the darkness had always held a certain suffocating weight upon her. She heard no gulls, only the soft sounds of the sloshing water against the hull, and the shouts and curses of drunk sailors manning the sails. As she shut her eyes, she heard a soft clicking against the walls of her room. Ignoring it, thinking it to be a sea creature of some sort, she nuzzled her face further into her arms, only to hear the clicking once more. Ivory glared up and swirled her head to pinpoint the origin of the sounds, rationalizing once again that it was perhaps just mere vermin. As the clicking grew closer, she realized the sounds were not within the room, but outside of it. 'Impossible,' she shook her head, looking straight up at the head of her cot, behind which was where the wooden hull of the ship touched ocean. As she stared at the spot on the wall, the room grew quiet, and for a moment the clicking stopped. Reaching out, she touched the wooden planks, and as soon as her hand felt the rough oak, the clicking resumed. She withdrew her hand, then tapped her finger upon the spot, only to receive silence as a reply. Curiosity getting the better of her, she lifted her head towards the hull and placed her ear upon the spot. Through the faint splashing of the outside waves, she heard a sucking sound upon the keel, then what sounded like a voice.
"Targaryen. Must free. Emperor needs. Greyjoy close. Trespasser distracted," it gargled in a strange tone, partially muffled by the wooden barrier between them.
Ivory drew back in equal parts shock and confusion. "Targaryen?" she asked herself, before the clicking grew to deafening proportions.
Shutting her ears, she heard the abrasive voice of the captain. "What in the hell are you doing, bitch!?" Lazorno shot up from his prone position, a hateful gaze in his partially drunken eyes, before draining away into doubt as he beheld her behind shielded ears. A series of scratching noises, rose from below them, and raced up along the hull, like rats, before a loud thump sounded above. Her 'lover' panicked and drew a dagger. "The seas were fucking clear!" he shouted, pulling up his trousers, and bolting out of the door, leaving it wide open. Ivory saw the stairs rise up from the cabin and into the starry night, just as the shouts of the rest of the crewmen began. "What are you lo…" the captain started to shout before a loud slurp silenced him and the dagger which he had drawn clattered down the steps, a severed hand still firmly grasped upon the hilt. Joining in on the choir of death, were squelching sucking noises, and metal clanging upon the deck. She rolled off the cot and inched her naked form to the door and the dagger besides, equally curious to see the cause of the commotion and determined to keep it out of the room in which she was chained. A few steps from the dagger and the chain grew taut. 'Damn,' she cursed, her eyes shooting back and forth from the dagger to the open door leading to the deck. She lay upon her stomach, and could feel her heart beating like a fist within her chest. Ivory stretched her legs and arms as far as she could, in order to reach the bloodied appendage still gripping the simple bladed weapon. The sounds overhead had suddenly ceased, and she noticed a trail of blood seeping down the steps, reflecting the soft light emitted by the quickly dimming lantern in the room. At the crest of the stairs she saw only void and the stars above. She remained silent, seeing if something would come, even as her body kept reaching for the knife. In the gloom she saw something fluttering in the air before it arched and fell straight into her room. Missing the steps entirely, the object came into the light, revealing it to be Lazorno's severed head, with the keys to her shackles lodged firmly into its eye socket.
"Gift. From Emperor. Black sails will come. Red woman will protect," the same gurgling voice she had heard through the hull, had spoken once more from beyond her sight.
"Who are you?" she questioned the blackness, and only heard the sounds of splashing water as a response. A few moments more she waited, until she felt confident that whatever had spoken to her was gone. Ivory turned towards the severed head of her former captor, and reached into its eye to withdraw a small iron key. Flicking off the ichor from the thing, she sat up and unlocked the bindings at her ankle. After throwing them off, she massaged her raw skin, and rotated her foot. Though still somewhat sore from prolonged imprisonment, Ivory steadily came to her feet and looked down at the detached skull. "They should have made you suffer more," she spat upon the mutilated face, then limped towards the knife. As she pried the weapon out of the cold dead hands of her former jailor, she couldn't help but smile. When she looked towards the mirror, she saw her face, and felt strange at seeing it so happy. "Now is not the time to smile, girl," she chastised her reflection, emaciated mess that it was, and caused the former smile to evaporate from her face, revealing the stony frown beneath. "We cannot afford happiness," her tone turned grim, and she turned away from the mirror, finding her way towards the trunk in which spare clothing was held. The ship rocked softly upon the waves, as she rummaged through the clothing, before she spotted a pair of faded black pants and a frayed, though still wearable, crimson tunic. Upon donning her clothing, she lifted the severed appendages from the floor and came up the steps to the deck. Finding it devoid of life or even corpses, she carefully stalked towards the bow of the ship, and looked out into the dark waters, before tossing out the remains of the second captain of 'the Bloody Woman.' She reclined her arms upon the wooden handrails and stared out onto the sea for a long time, feeling comforted by the breeze of the sea and smell of the salt, now that she shared the ship with no one. Turning back towards the dim light coming from her quarters, she spotted a small bag by the door, that she had not noticed before. "Hmmm," she traversed the distance between her and the bag, and looked at it before she reached down to open it. Within, were freshly caught fish and a small black stone that glittered in the moonlight. Ivory pocketed the stone and moved to ready the fish for consumption, a trait that she had long since become proficient at. "If this Greyjoy fellow or the Red Woman are not here by daybreak, I will leave," she turned towards the ocean as she spoke, staring off into the distance and hearing nothing but silence, yet knowing full well that even if she attempted to do so, the task without at least one other would prove impossibly difficult. "But I will die trying, Voice-in-the-Dark, I promise you that," she said finally, before hauling the fish below deck and shutting the door behind her.
