Drowned Town. As the water levels rose, the buildings began to sink away. The force for the salty seawater wore away at stone walls, reducing the homes on the outermost edge of the lagoon city of Braavos to shambles. Those left standing were left as mere rooftops or a single floor above the creeping waterline. The wealthier moved on seeking out dryer lands to make the homes, but the poor remained to hoard their belongings in the highest of places and hoped that when they fell asleep each night that they wouldn't wake underwater. Eel fights and the Gate offered entertainment, but to Robbie it was his solace.
Robbie and Donoros had been sneaking away to the drowning buildings since they were boys - it was close enough to home if anything we to go wrong but was far enough away that Abagal and Vernan wouldn't come looking for them. Back then, they had been faced with limitations, climbing into the buildings closest to the comfort of dry land. With time they grew older and stronger swimmers - with that came foolish confidence - that sent them out to deeper waters and unstable foundations. The unknown beneath the waters, swimming between the buildings where the streets once were until they found a building that was just right.
Wet hands tested the stone for stability, wiggling those he could grasp from side to side only to let them fall as they came loose. Robbie tested them one by one until each he touched remained in its place. Hands gripped at the slippery rocked, the grasp so strong knuckled paled as he hoisted himself from the depths with a rush of water. Cotton clothes became an outline of his form, leaving little to the imagination, as he climbed up onto the rooftop of the building that would continue to sink into the sea with time. Long legs sprawled in front of him, her elbows keeping him propped up to watch as shipped passed between the legs of the Titan of Braavos, each out faster than the next as storm clouds crept across the horizon. There would be no warmth of the sun to dry his clothes, only the wet discomfort as his shirt stuck to his skin.
Donoros climbed up alongside him, his face falling into a scowl as he sat down beside Robbie, a man he considered to be more of a brother than a friend. He bit his tongue for but a moment, but he could always be counted on to speak his mind. "I don't know why we couldn't have just gone to Moroggo's," his words came in a huff, a hand rising up to push his dark hair back out of his face. The cold wind left him chilled and his body ached from spending many nights at sea. Swimming to the edge of the Drowned Town had been a thrill as kids, but now Donoros wanted nothing more than an ale and a pretty girl to warm his bed.
"Too loud at Moroggo's, I can't think," Robbie muttered, his voice still sharp with tension as the anger he held towards his father lingered deep in his chest. There was a crack of lightning in the distance, a mere flash of light and the thunder too distant to be heard. Hands gripped into fists at his sides, he could feel the lightning in his bones. A raging burn that called for answers, answers he would never receive. "I've not left Braavos since I was a boy, you remember?" Robbie sighed, his eyes remaining focused on the horizon.
"We sailed to Pentos, father was to bring back wine and Ma had enough help at the Inn. It's all I've seen of the lands beyond the mountains." He was confined to knowing all the same faces, visiting all the same places - remembering all too well those he had met during his day in Pentos. It had been the most lively of places, even more so than the docks of Braavos. There were more distant travellers there, their skin ranging from the palest of whites to the deepest of browns. All their languages were spoken, much like at home in Baavos, but also became one. Robbie had lost himself on the docks, eavesdropped on exchanges trying to decode the broken language. The wealth of Pentos left him looking like a beggar child in weathered rags. He had earned scowls and shrieks, as he tore through market stalls, even going as far as to make friends with a silvery-haired beggar-boy who was looking for mere scraps to feed his sister. Robbie had been whisked away from the Pentos docks as quickly as he had arrived, and was left with nothing but wonder about the lands beyond.
Thunder rolled in with the clouds, its growl growing louder with each crack of lightning that lit up the skies. The darkness consumed them, leaving the waters below as black as night and draped in the mist of fog. Rain would take the city soon, sending beggars and sailors alike into the taverns and inns. Ma would need him soon, but he had so much more on his mind than his life in Braavos; " Dreams, do you think they mean anything?"