I've got a present for you! šŸŽ

And it's over 8,000 words long!

The Smoking Sea

298 AC

All was quiet on the ship.

No one had spoken a single word. They all knew what was about to happen.

Mormont expertly steered the Waking Serpent on the light waves. The water was still. The winds were light. Everything seemed to be calm.

At least for now.

The journey to Lys had been rather uneventful. And it had been the same with Volantis. Except with the latter, Starag Mormont had gotten thoroughly annoyed with the hot sticky heat that permeated the air. So had the rest of his crew for that matter, men who had been accustomed to the harsh winds and cold climate of the North.

Now, in the early morning, after they'd left the massive harbor at Volantis, Mormont watched as the sun rose far in the east, directly ahead of them. It would soon climb high in the sky, hanging overhead the ruined citadel that was their destination.

He'd seen Jon out of the corner of his eye standing by the first mast. Those gray eyes had flashed violet as they scanned the coastline of the hallowed citadel. This had once been the ancient home of his ancestors. Jon was likely the first Targaryen in hundreds of years to ever have come home to Valyria.

The young man- for Mormont had soon found it inappropriate to call him a boy after the Stepstones- had grown quiet and solemn after their talk. Mormont knew that something within him had died. Perhaps the last shred of childhood innocence that was bound to him.

Since then, Jon Stark had tirelessly worked long hours with the men. Hauling, fishing, lifting. He'd gotten up at the same time as Mormont and Arthur, and had sparred with them before dawn.

Mormont was proud of him. After all, not many boys his age would ever hear the same words as he had that day. And fewer still would never have accepted them or understood them the right way.

Jon had even contributed to the planning- in what small ways he could- of the long haul of their journey. The day before, Mormont and the others had spent hours pouring over old maps of the peninsula itself. They compared it with the more modern maps and were briefly mixed up on where they'd land and make camp. Judging by the fact that none of them knew what to expect, they had all agreed that they would probably be sleeping on the Serpent just to make things simpler for them.

Simple was nice. Simple made things run smoothly. Simple kept you alive.

Their target was the western coastline of the main island of Valyria. They weren't very interested in the sister cities on the peninsula. Well, except for Marwyn, of course. He'd wanted to know all he could about them.

But they couldn't afford to stay for too long. After all, outstaying their welcome on Valyria would probably be met with some kind of painful death that Mormont didn't care to find out more about.

That wouldn't do at all.

Starag Mormont watched on as they passed by the first island in the chain. It was a border of sorts. One that told him that the moment they passed by, they would be traversing the Smoking Sea itself.

It was not really anything like he'd expected. A light layer of mist had begun to rise, but that wasn't anything to get nervous about. The water was not boiling with unimaginable gusts of heat and gas, and neither was it moving in the slightest.

Everything was still.

Even the mountain that resided far in the distance ahead of them. Over the fog, he could pick out the largest volcano he'd ever seen. Its nine brothers were not at all as imposing as the permanent red glow and fumes of smoke that flowed from its peak like a great chimney.

Marwyn had spoken of the Fourteen Flames; a wide chain of volcanoes that had once extended across the full peninsula of Old Valyria. Before the Doom, all fourteen of the mountainous clusters of ash and magma were visible above the surface.

Now, about four links of the volcanic chain had been submerged into the Smoking Sea. Hence the bone-chilling name of the waters that the Waking Serpent now sailed on.

They continued sailing further into the wide-open gap of misty water. Though Mormont had steered to the right since he figured sticking closer to land would make the men less nervous than they already were.

He was right. The mist had grown thicker in a matter of minutes, and soon enough everyone was put onto the defensive. Even the sun was hard to spot in this damnable fog.

How soon would their ship be pulled under by a Kraken? What kind of terrifying monster was lurking in these depths waiting for them? Had it known they were coming? Had it smelt the flesh from across the bay in the harbor at Volantis?

Or was there simply nothing? Just his imagination running wild, perhaps.

Any moment now, Mormont half expected to see massive, groping tentacles reach up and grip the ramparts of his ship, to snap the masts in half like they were twigs over a crackling fire, to pull him under in a matter of seconds. Never to be seen again.

This place had a reputation for disappearing adventurers. Anyone who came here looking for fortune or treasure had never returned. Not a single person. The Targaryen girl didn't count for obvious reasons. She was practically dead already.

The next big island had soon come into view, as the towers that had been built upon it were visible even through the fog. That was the second island they'd need to pass. After that, there was a third, much smaller one waiting for them. By now the sun was up, and it was time for breakfast.

Briefly, Mormont wondered what his family were eating back in Bear Island. Whether or not they'd be eating some kind of roasted meat along with fresh duckling and grilled potatoes. Throw in some fried bacon and creamy eggs and-

Grrrrrrrrrgh. He glanced down at his flat stomach. It had rumbled demandingly. He'd skipped breakfast today. Mormont wanted to be mentally sharp, and he couldn't let his mind be clouded by food when he had a whole crew of men to look after.

Climbing up the stairs to his right, Arthur had given him a nod in greeting. Mormont reciprocated in kind and looked back out to the growing fog that surrounded them. The sun had soon disappeared from the sky. Now, it was all just a curtain of grey and darker grey hanging above them. Shit.

A crucial detail needed in their exit plan had gone missing in the blink of an eye. If all else failed, at least they could tell what direction they needed to go in by using the sun as a guide. Of course, however, it was nowhere to be seen.

It was not long until the third and final island had revealed itself in the mist. It was a small blot of land, and Mormont thought he heard something dragging slowly across the rocky slopes. It sounded completely unnatural, yet entirely deliberate at the same time. It had sent chills down his spine. He decided to willfully ignore it and keep facing forward.

The crew followed his example. Though a few of them had also noticed a nerve-breaking pause followed by the next-seemingly inhuman- drag of something heavy across ancient rubble and soil, they said nothing. Nobody saw what the source of the damn noise was. It was too foggy to see twenty feet ahead. And not a single soul on Mormont's crew made a sound as to inquire about it as they passed by the third island, leaving it behind with that blasted dragging noise.

Going by memory, Mormont knew that after the third island, the sea would open up into a yawning gap that led down the western coast of the main city and led further down towards the south.

It was perhaps that they were not as alone as they'd previously thought. First, there had beenā€¦ Whatever that had inhabited the shoreline of that third smaller island. And now, Mormont looked to Arthur, who nodded slowly to the water below them.

Down below, Mormont hadn't seen anything save the blindingly fast ripple of something big darting in the depths. He didn't know for sure what it was, but a Kraken would've been a safe assumption.

Yet so far, it seemed that none of the creatures in this place had paid them any mind. Mormont had no doubt it was likely because of their calm and laid-back entrance that they had to thank for that. Most adventurers were troublesome, loud, and uncouth. When they were treading foreign lands, they wanted the earth and sky to know their bravery. More often than not, more ears would be listening. The owners of those ears usually had a vote on whether or not those adventurers would actually leave alive.

The day had seemed to have gotten shorter, even with their early head start on the peninsula. It was starting to get dark by the time they arrived by the western ridgeline of Valyria. They kept moving further along it until they found the remains of a great bridge which now sloped down into the waters below them.

They'd found their target. But Mormont wasn't about to leave his ship, which was the only key out of this land in plain sight. Besides, he and the men needed a location where they'd be able to at least get a few hours of shut-eye.

Mormont sailed a little bit further down the coast and soon came across a decently sized cove that dented into the side of the main island. There were cliffs hanging high above the private beach of pale sand and blotchy brown dirt. And there were also a few other pathways giving further access to the island. It would make a good shelter from prying eyes and potential predators.

Mormont had gone inside it and angled the Serpent so that it was facing out towards the entrance of the cove at all times. If they needed to get away quickly, then he'd afford them that chance.

If they had to escape, they'd take the better route and head down towards the southern coast, leaving the peninsula in almost half the time. They'd cross that bridge if or when they came to it.

Every single man on his crew was on edge. Nervousness. Anticipation. Excitement. And even fear. All of the emotions broiled into one chaotic mess that might've made other men who were far less experienced go over the edge.

As it stood, Mormont decided they would hold no fires. Fires invited drink and revelry. Fires invited noise and distraction. They were not here for such things. They'd absolutely draw attention to them that way.

More men were put on night watch that night than any other before it. It still did not help Mormont sleep soundly, however. There was something nagging him in the back of his mind. It had been too easy to just sail right into the heart of Valyria without even a single incident. But how else could he explain it to Arthur or Jon? To Marwyn, Sigmund, or Wendel? It was a feeling, and feelings were wrong on occasion.

So why had this one been tearing at him from his gut?

The next morning, the sky had turned red.

He and the crew had all eaten a silent and cold breakfast. Not a single word was spoken and every man knew that on some level, this part of the job was going to be particularly miserable.

Before, it had been sunshine and rainbows. They'd been at the finest establishments throughout the Free Cities of Essos, experiencing exotic foods, customs, and plenty of beautiful women.

Now, there were no women within hundreds of miles. There was no joy or smiles to be found in the misty air, in the sunless sky, or even in the feeling of solid ground upon their feet. This was when the real work had begun and everyone knew it.

Everyone had eaten light. They had to have energy but also remain on high alert. There was no telling what was waiting for them in the city of Valyria itself.

Mormont decided to take a search party onto the land. He'd only take a small number. Ten or so able-bodied men. Arthur came along with him. And so did Sigmund.

They would be a preliminary scouting party. First, they had to get a proper idea of the place and what was inside the grand citadel just up the ridge and further into the mainland.

But if they were able to bring something back? All the better.

They took the small rowboat from the Serpent to the shore in a matter of minutes. Even from that far away, it was fairly easy for the men on the Serpent to see the rowboat. Still, Starag did not feel entirely comfortable keeping the boat half in the water. He'd ordered it to be beached further into the cove for safekeeping.

Then, they'd begun to make their way up the rocky slopes and over to the fallen bridge. It used to be one of the famed dragon roads, the passages that provided quick and safe transport for merchants and their goods to all of the cities on the Valyrian Peninsula. No doubt it would prove convenient for Mormont's own purposes- provided some of it was still in decent condition.

As they climbed higher, the fog had lessened. Eventually, once Mormont was standing on the choppy dragon road leading right into Valyria, he could finally see things much more clearly.

Wordlessly, he and his scouting party had continued down the dragon road. They passed by numerous white cliffs and plenty of human remains. Some had been bones. But othersā€¦

Starag Mormont watched both horrified and fascinated as he sawā€¦ people. Humanoid statues of ash-stone had stood watching the volcanos in the far distance. Others leaned on each other, while others had tried to get away as fast as they possibly could. Their faces and bodies were absolutely disfigured and unidentifiable. It was like they'd been frozen in stone.

They pressed further down the dragon road and eventually found themselves by the western entrance to the city of Valyria.

Even as old as they were, the walls still stood tall and imposing. They were almost identical to the black stone walls Mormont had seen on Dragonstone. Dragonlord architecture was built to last, it seemed.

Despite this, the large gate that had once decorated the black stone was malformed and looked as if it had been hit with something so abnormally hot that the metal had melted onto the ground and stayed there in a pool of blackened steel. Probably Valyrian Steel. How the smiths of Qohor would weep.

By now the pool had since hardened. It was likely to stay that way. Mormont stepped onto the surface of Valyrian Steel and found it easy to walk across. He continued further and scanned further beyond the gateway.

There were no flowerbeds or trees. Anything that once lived there was now dead. Besides some overgrown vegetation and weeds, there was naught else.

What's more, is that there were probably dozens-even hundreds of the ash-people who had once been proud citizens or slaves who had lived in Valyria. Might even be that some of them had once been Dragonlords, too. They took on all kinds of poses. Each with its own story.

Mormont had seen many of them kneeling on the ground and praying, having practically fused their hands together in an attempt to make good with their gods before the coming Doom wiped their souls away from the face of the earth.

Others had clutched at their loved ones in firm hugs and embrace. Some were laying on the ground, holding their knees and crying into their hands. And then there were the ones who had been hit while they'd been running away. Their fused stone bodies were still positioned so that it looked like they were running from something.

He and Arthur shared a glance with one another. This was something else. A whole new world that both of them had heard of many times over, but neither of them had ever seen with their own eyes.

"What horror could cause this?" Sigmund had asked quietly. He stood in front of one of the running stone people and stared. It did nothing back.

Mormont glanced around them as if to see if anything else had heard the wildling's utterings. Nothing had answered, though.

"The Doom," Arthur said lowly. "Those," he pointed towards the north. To those of the Fourteen Flames that still stood above the surface. "Had erupted all at once. The city and the people never had a chance. Fire and ash had fallen from the sky and had filled their lungs. They'd died in the blink of an eye."

Sigmund had nodded, his curiosity sated. But Mormont could hear the man gripping his axe tighter in his hands. No doubt, this was far beyond his range of expertise. Far different from hunting walrus and conducting a good raid on another tribe of Free Folk.

They'd continued further down the main road until they hit a fork. There were more of these stone people in their inanimate forms. But there was no sign of where they ought to go next. Mormont would've flipped a coin, but he was averse to causing even the slightest bit of noise. Instead, he simply opted to choose the road to the right, heading towards the south quarter.

Soon enough they entered a large bazaar-looking area. Or at least it looked similar to the bazaars of Pentos or Volantis. There had likely been stalls lining this place by the hundreds or even thousands. Merchants from all over the world used to come by and ply their trade here.

What about the poor sods who had only come to visit when the Doom fired off? Never even had a chance.

Yet perhaps there was something among this rubble that could prove useful. Something he could take back to the crew today. Provide them with an early victory, and instill the hope that they were in fact getting closer to accomplishing their goal and going home.

A part of Mormont desperately wanted the same thing. The other, more professional side of him had shaken his head and was indifferent. Whether or not they found something today or tomorrow or even a week from now, they'd find it. The Professional didn't leave until the job was properly done.

Just then, Mormont stopped dead in his tracks as he heard something scraping in the huge bazaar. The hollow sound had echoed for yards and into the whole bloody market itself, the sounds bouncing off the stone buildings and tiles and roads. It was something sharp scraping against stone. And it had to be incredibly sharp, too. Almost like someone had stabbed at a grindstone with a Valyrian Steel blade.

Mormont didn't wait to figure out what it was. They were out in the open and they needed to hide. Now! He nodded to a nearby trading post and pointed past the doorway.

His men understood perfectly. They too had heard the sound, and more than a few of them had paled as it still continued to echo throughout the empty bazaar. It seemed to be getting louder and closer.

They quickly filed inside and quietly made their way up the stairs to the second floor. There was old furniture that looked on the brink of collapsing into dust. Still, it provided viable shelter for all ten of them.

Mormont looked out the window while keeping himself as out of sight as possible. Arthur and Sigmund were doing the same, peeking their heads just enough to see what was potentially hunting for them.

Mormont's eye had wildly scanned the bazaar for any sign of the source of the grinding metallic noise. He couldn't find it, though. Which only made him strain harder and harder to find it.

Then, he saw it.

Lurking beneath the black stone hood of a corner shop, he'd seen it lurch back and forth in its purposeless forward stride. It was a tall and lanky thing, perhaps nine feet tall or more, and plenty stone heavier than Mormont. Its skin was shriveled and malformed, so tight that it stretched hard against a full cage of boney ribs and an abdomen that was far too thin.

Despite its thin legs, the thing had large, densely muscled arms that were as long as the creature's entire body length. They stretched down and jutted out into enormous bony hands that were about five times larger than Mormont's own. That, and the ends of the large fingers had terrifying spikes for claws that might've been spearheads if Mormont didn't know better.

The damn thing's face had revealed it to be a monstrosity. It was by all counts a human skull, but there were bleeding red eyes that scanned the bazaar idly as it mozied along. And there was still marrow and muscle attached to its jaws and neck.

What the fuck is that?! Damn thing didn't have a right to be alive!

He heard the gulps of several of his men from beside him. Sigmund had opened his mouth, but then quickly closed it shut. Arthur only watched in stony silence, but even now, Mormont could tell that now the man was definitely not ready for something like this.

The grinding sound had continued. It was caused by the creature's claws dragging against the black stone ground, indirectly sharpening its claws in case it came upon fresh meat. Us.

However, it didn't seem as if the accursed creature even knew about them, much less had seen them. It had slowly and leisurely taken its time roaming the opposite end of the bazaar. After damn near an hour, the thing had gotten out of sight, and the sound of claw grinding against stone had begun to cease.

Mormont listened closely, putting his ear to the ground as the noise died completely. Now was as good a time as any to get out of their shelter.

He got up and drew Longclaw. His men had also echoed his action, quietly drawing their own blades. Then he nodded down the stairs and gestured for them to follow.

Mormont had looked down both sides of the street before stepping quietly out of the trading house. The coast was clear, and the creature was nowhere within sight. He just hoped that it hadn't seen them. Or worse, that it wasn't still lurking around in the shadows, waiting to cut them all down with those terrifyingly long claws.

An inner voice was screaming at him to call it a day. To leave and start making their way back to the ship. But Mormont knew he'd come there for a reason, and he wasn't about to let the day go without claiming the first victory over Valyria.

He scanned the bazaar with a wild lightning blue eye, looking for a lead to latch onto. Something or someplace that would have what he was looking forā€¦

It was doubtful there would be anything of use in the lower city levels. But perhaps higher up into the citadels? Especially in the higher reaches of the crumbling towers and grand cathedrals of the ancient Dragonlords?

Yes. It made sense. Among the still-standing skyscrapers and topless towers, there would absolutely be remnants of the rich people that had used to inhabit this hallowed killing ground. They simply needed to go to those places.

"There." Mormont had whispered to Arthur as he pointed to the nearest of the topless towers in the distance.

Arthur nodded and gripped Dawn just a bit tighter than before.

Mormont waved to the men behind him to follow him. They'd held their nerve and kept silent.

He measured the distance between the bazaar and the nearest keep. It was likely a mile-perhaps two. They'd need to be careful and light on their feet most of all if they wanted to eat dinner later that night.

Mormont led them through the opposite end of the bazaar, walking down a long corridor street of paved black stone that led deeper into the heart of the city. Soon enough, they found a much wider road that split into four different directions. Perfectā€¦

The architecture had begun to get much more sophisticated. Now there were narrow slots and curved bell arches decorating several of the homes. Mormont suspected that these once belonged to citizens who were "well-to-do". Perhaps the wealthier class that did not own any dragons, but happened to have trading connections across the Valyrian Empire.

As soon as Mormont had turned the next street corner, however, he had ground to an immediate halt as he saw what lay before him.

Perhaps twenty yards away was a massive jaw and bony snout that had to have been about forty feet high. The bone elongated into two large empty eye sockets which had glared down at Mormont with a black iron gaze.

The bones of a dragon. The biggest he'd ever seen.

"By the Strangerā€¦" He'd heard Arthur mutter from his side. Sigmund had seen it all. He practically watched the black dragonbone corpse with the unbelievable reverence of a five-year-old.

Mormont was the first to recover. He continued walking along, carefully placing one foot in front of the other. The others followed behind him.

The width of the skull had easily taken up the width of the street and more. They'd had to duck underneath the sharp jawline of dragonbone in order to pass by.

As Mormont touched the bone, he wondered how it could still manage to be warm after all this time. It had been eons since this magnificent creature had died, probably cast down by the magma rock that had come from the volcanoes. It must have been incredibly hot if even a dragon of this size could not withstand it.

"The dragon skulls in the Red Keep are a fraction of this size. Even that of Balerion." Arthur noted from behind him.

"Hard to think they grew them this big." Mormont had agreed. It was absurd. It had to be. To think the Dragonlords had such power at their fingertips made Mormont wonder why anyone would believe that gold or armies could prove one's strength.

What was an army compared to a titanic beast of untold power? Of a dragon that could cast shadows over millions of people in the blink of an eye?

Nothing. There wasn't a single thing that any man could do to stop it.

They'd continued the rest of their way in silence. More effort was exerted as they made it past the skull and began traversing underneath the skeletal black spine and further into the rib cage of the once great serpent.

The wings had been stretched out across the rooftops of multiple buildings high above them. Mormont estimated they were almost a kilometer in total length. He had a good feeling that even this long-deceased monster was not the biggest of them all in its time.

It was by the end of the tail that they'd come upon their destination. At the base of the tall, slender tower of blackened stone was a fortress of wide circular walls made of the same material. Leading away from the main street was a paved walkway of obsidian that led up towards the large shining smoky gates of the place.

Seeing his prize, Mormont had stepped forward.

THUMP.

He stopped midstep. He glanced down at his feet. Had his footstep really been that loud?

THUMP.

Starag Mormont felt a pit in his stomach drop. Fortunately, it hadn't been him. Unfortunately, it was probably something much larger, and much more dangerous.

He glanced down both sides of the street. He heard the noise again. THUMP! It was getting closer from the right lane of the road. And he and his men were standing square in the middle of it!

"To the fortress!" He whispered harshly to the men behind him and made quickly for the obsidian walkway, taking care to make as little noise as possible.

THUMP! Whatever it was, it was getting closer still. But it seemed to be going at the same pace. He didn't care. As long as he and his men made it to cover.

They quickly made it up the shining ridge of dragonglass, climbing the polished stairs with hastened fear. Luckily, there was a guard tower standing just outside the gates. Mormont burst inside, quickly looking around for any other creatures. It was clear.

Inside there was an old table of ebony. It was still perfectly functional. There were also about six chairs or so surrounding it. Even then, everything was still layered with centuries worth of dust.

Coming in behind him, the rest of the men had flooded the old room. Arthur closed the door shut behind them. Meanwhile, Mormont had gone up the stairs to the second floor.

There were old tattered beds, six of them. The sheets and blankets were long eaten away by moths and other bugs. Yet the frames of the single beds had still held true, as they were also made of ebony. There were also cracked windows on either side of the room, giving a view of the street and of the front of the fortress.

THUMP! Mormont nearly flinched, crouching down and getting closer to the window that faced out towards the street. His skin crawled, and he felt his palms begin to sweat as he waited and watched the street corner with bated breath.

By the Old Godsā€¦ He'd given a silent prayer as soon as he saw the thing. That was how he could best describe it. It wasn't anything like the bony creature they'd seen in the bazaar. This one was much bigger and much more horrifyingā€¦

Coming out from around the street corner was a massive shape of dark green scales, tough bronze skin, and black fur. It stood on two reptilian legs with webbed feet and jagged jet-black claws. In spite of this, it had a great hairy ape-like torso, rippled and bulky with raw muscle. With its shoulders, it had also been similarly mammalian until they soon split off into two different pairs of long suckered tentacles that snapped out at the air around it. And to cap it all off, the demon had two identical ape-like heads. Both with a pair of glaring yellow eyes and large, uneven teeth that was rotted and stained with decayed flesh.

The demon must have been ten-no, fifteen feet tall. It was an absolute monstrosity. Something that did not belong to this world at all. Mormont wished he'd never even set eye on the damn thing. Its mere image would burn in his mind until the day he died.

Had this demon also come from beneath the Fourteen Flames? Just as the dragons had so long ago? Or had it been a result of the terrible experiments with blood magic that the Valyrians had ushered unto their slaves? Both scenarios had seemed more than likely. Nothing about this thing made sense. Two heads? Ape-like body? Reptilian legs? Tentacles for arms?

Mormont had nearly laughed upon seeing the next appendage. It was a long scaly scorpion-like tail that whipped leisurely at the ground. Occasionally it would bump into one of the stone people and break the ash statues into tiny shards of dust.

Mormont almost imagined what that tail would do to a man. Just how powerful was it to casually break stone? It could probably snap bone just as easily. Either way, Mormont did not intend to find out.

The demon had strolled leisurely down the street as if it were on its way to the market to see the newest goods and wares that had arrived the day prior. Like it was a menial task that it often took pleasure in. The carelessness with which it carried itself maddened Mormont to no end. It knew that it was the biggest and worst thing in town as it thumped along down the pathway of black stone. Why would it ever be afraid of them if it had seen them?

Mormont wondered just how many other eldritch horrors were now roaming the dead city he'd come to pillage. How many others like this demon were there? And how many of them knew that he was there?

Behind him, Arthur had slowly come up the stairs. Mormont turned his head to look at the other man, but Dayne was already peeking out of the window. Arthur nearly stopped breathing upon seeing the huge entity that was now passing by the tailbone of the gargantuan dragon's corpse. It lumbered over the bone easily.

Mormont felt an inkling of relief when it continued down the street. The feeling was so overpowering that he almost didn't hear its footsteps come to a sudden halt.

Both he and Arthur had frozen. Slowly, Mormont turned back to look out the cracked glass window. What he saw nearly made his heart stop.

The demon had now turned its torso towards the fortress and in their direction. Even from fifty yards away, Mormont could hear both of those ape-heads snorting and sniffing the air for the fresh scent of man-flesh. It was wondering where the meat was, and probably why it was even hiding at all.

Mormont looked to Arthur. "Did you see any way we could open the gate?"

"No, but a place like this ought to also serve as a gatehouse." Arthur surmised. There were faint traces of hope in his voice. Like he'd wished what he was saying turned out to be true. Mormont couldn't blame him. "What do you think? Will we have to make a run for it?" He asked.

Mormont knew that if the demon got any more interested, then it was very likely that the only thing they could do was to run. Retreating inside the fortress would be their best option on hand. "We may not have a choice." He said quietly.

Outside, the demon had managed to pick up more of the new scent. It smelled the permeating fear and terror that it had caused with its appearance, and somehow, Mormont could tell that the demon enjoyed it. There was a sentience about it that he'd not seen in any other creature before.

It had backtracked its last few steps, tracing their scent from the tailbone of the dragon skeleton all the way to the dragonglass walkway. It got closer.

Mormont and Arthur shared a look and both nodded in understanding. Starag would find the lever that opened the gatehouse-if there was one, and Arthur would go inform the men of the situation. They got to work within seconds.

Mormont scoured around the other side of the room, remembering that the tower had a third floor from his brief memory of its outside appearance. He quickly found the ladder which led up to the next floor.

He cringed slightly as the aged ebony wood wheezed under his weight. Still, he managed to make it to the top rather quickly.

Hunched over a strange-looking desk was a skeleton, the first human bones he'd actually seen in Valyria. Its arms were spread out among the contents of the desk, with one of its hands being held over a small circular button. There was also a small table in the corner with something shiny on it.

Mormont knew they were coins, but he didn't have time to grab them. He'd looked around for a lever, but there was none. Not a single thing. Desperation had begun to creep into his mind as the thumping began to pick up again, this time it was coming towards him.

The desk! He'd gone up to the desk and pushed aside the skeleton. Just to the right was a smaller window, but it was large enough for him to see the Valyrian Steel gate and black stone fortress walls.

After a few seconds, though, Mormont knew this wasn't a desk at all. It was some kind ofā€¦ device. A console. It reminded him briefly of a distillery, what with its various stone knobs and switches that had highlighted letters in High Valyrian underneath them. Probably powered by old magic or whatnot.

He'd remembered which button the skeleton had its hand over. Mormont prayed to his gods once more and then pressed his finger down onto it.

The cold stone had sunk into the console easily. Suddenly, it grew warm on the end of Mormont's finger and glowed a dim red. Just outside the window, the gate had rumbled softly for a few moments, and then the Valyrian Steel spikes had begun to ascend.

Below, he heard the guardhouse door quietly sigh open. Arthur had gone outside and waved up at him. Starag waved back and gave a thumbs up. The operation was a go.

As the men filed out of the house and edged quietly towards the gate, the loud thumping of the demon had stopped. Mormont could almost imagine its twin heads looking at the now opening gate with an intensely curious gaze. Why was it raising up? Who had caused it?

Mormont didn't stop to think about the chances of his plan going off without a hitch, he just knew that if it was going to succeed, then they'd need to be fast. Faster than the demon could ever be, and definitely out of reach of those wicked grasping tentacles.

The large gate of Valyrian Steel had now gotten high above the heads of his men. Arthur led them inside, past the black metal edges and behind the stone walls of the fortress. Now, they'd all glanced back, wondering where exactly their leader was.

Every minute that passed felt like an eternity. The demon hadn't made a single noise. And the gate was raising inches per every second. He'd need it to be high enough for him to push the button and make a mad dash to get behind the gate just in time for it to close on the demon.

Bam! The gate was fully raised. Now!

Mormont jammed his finger into the button again. The gate had shuddered once more and was now descending. He didn't bother taking his time. He practically jumped down the rabbit hole to the second floor and made a mad dash towards the stairs.

Outside, he heard the thumping start up again. This time it was louder and quicker than before. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! Gods, it was getting closer and closer. He could hear the damn beast climbing up the obsidian steps yards at a time!

Mormont ran down the stairs and practically jumped out the door. The Valyrian Steel gate was nearly a quarter closed by now. More than enough room for him. Now it was just a matter of speed and timing on his part.

Would the demon catch up to him in time? It was much larger than him, and could no doubt cross a greater distance than he could. Regardless of his speed, the damn monstrosity would have no trouble getting close enough to pluck him with its tentacles. Then he would be finished.

Run! Run! Run! His brain was screaming at him. Run and don't look back!

The gate was halfway closed as he crossed the distance of the courtyard. Behind him, the overbearingly heavy stride of the demon had gotten louder. He could hear its excited breath from both of its smacking and hungry mouths.

Mormont had nearly dove forward by the time he crossed the threshold of the gate. It was far too low for the demon to squeeze through. And those Valyrian Steel spikes at the bottom were sharp enough to bite through even the dragonstone itself.

Just as the gate had shut, Mormont felt something slimy grapple and pull at his leg and another slink up and latch onto his chest. It pulled at him gently, testing the yield it had, seeing whether or not the meat was good and tender.

Mormont could imagine the signals the tentacles were sending back to the brain. 'Yes. It's good to eat.' And the twin ape brains send a correlating message back to the grasping arms. 'Then get it.'

Suddenly, he heard swords being drawn as his men charged forward, led by Arthur and Sigmund. As Mormont was being pulled backward, they ran towards him with their weapons raised, ready to save their commander.

Mormont soon heard the sound of steel stabbing and slashing into flesh. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the demon grunting and snarling from the other side of the Valyrian Steel gate. Both of the ape-heads couldn't fit their mouths between the square gaps of the gate, but the slick tentacles had wormed their way through.

Mormont screamed when he felt the suckers on his chest begin to pull at his torso. He began seeing red. Gods, it was going to tear his heart out! A searing hot knife had plunged and pulled at his chest. He could barely breathe as the pain intensified one hundredfold in a matter of seconds.

All of a sudden, the pain had ceased. The tentacles had let loose from Mormont's chest and leg, and now flopped and flailed on the ground helplessly like a fish on land.

He felt more than several pairs of hands and arms pull him away from the gate and up on his feet. Mormont turned around and saw the cut tentacles lay motionless on the black stone, and the milk-white edge of Dawn stained with brown-black blood.

The demon lurched backward and let out a terrifying, pained roar from both of its snarling mouths. "RRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!" The sound that emitted from its twin heads had nearly made Mormont stumble backward and clutch his ears. It was an unspeakable howl. One that he'd never wished to hear again.

Arthur stepped carefully away, and soon all of them had widened the gap. Now, even the other tentacled arm was not long enough to grasp at them.

Mormont saw the fresh wound on its left arm. There were two identical stumps where the tentacles had once been, but the stumps burned with shimmering white steam.

Strangely enough, however, all the other cuts and stab wounds on its body had begun healing. Where the steel blades had cut open its flesh, they now closed in a matter of seconds. It had regenerated itself in an instant.

Normal steel doesn't seem to workā€¦ He'd surmised. His eye found the two steaming stumps from where Arthur had sheered off the tentacled arms. They hadn't healed.

Even the demon itself seemed to notice this fact. Two pairs of yellow eyes had stared wildly at its left arm and then back at Arthur, and the pale white sword in his hands. It quickly decided to withdraw and step away from the gate.

Then, it opened its mouths. Both heads had spoken as if they were humans, talking in a language that none of the men present could understand. Its voice was deep and biting as if it were talking down to a lowly peasant that had come to beg for food and alms. The hateful yellow eyes burned at the Sword of the Morning, and it seemed the demon was giving him one last petty insult in parting.

Finally, it snarled and lurched away back towards the obsidian pathway. The thumping sound of its steps had begun to cease. Out of sight.

Mormont let himself inhale a fresh breath of air. The overwhelming pressure on his lungs had ceased, but the scar was still there. He looked down at his shirt and soon found that the fabric had been torn and there were circular markings where the suckers had been.

"Are you alright, Starag?" Sigmund had asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. There was worry in the stoic wildling's dark blue eyes.

"I am." Mormont nodded. Though he doubted he'd ever forget it. Most men would've drunk themselves to death over such an experience. If they even survived that is.

Arthur sheathed Dawn. He stepped towards him and grasped him firmly in a tight embrace. Mormont reciprocated the hug just as warmly.

When they separated, Arthur smiled. "Can't let you die just yet. Rhaenys would have my head."

Mormont had felt incredibly relieved. Arthur had cut the thick tension in the air just as well as he had cut those wriggling tentacles off the demon's arm.

They'd gotten an hour's rest in the main courtyard of the fortress. A reprieve from the monstrosity they'd all just barely managed to survive.

Mormont knew they all would rather spend the night aboard the Waking Serpent rather than inside the fortress itself, so he'd gotten them upright and searched for a similar console to the one found inside the guardhouse.

In the square black stone courtyard, there was a small passage that led deeper into the dragonstone wall. They'd soon found an office that led to a small barracks. It was in this office that they found the console.

Mormont wasn't about to press the familiar red button all over again. For all they knew, the blasted demon had simply gone into hiding and was potentially waiting for them on the other side of the Valyrian Steel gate. And the terrifying proposition of it somehow climbing the nearly fifty-foot-high stone walls had also convinced him to proceed with the search.

The appearance of the courtyard itself had given the impression that it was not a fortress but was in fact an estate. Regal columns and archways decorated with gargoyles and stone dragons were lined inside the inner courtyard. Deeper still was a tall hallway with a curved ceiling. It led into the estate.

Mormont had placed himself and Arthur at the front of the party, and he'd positioned Sigmund towards the back to cover them and watch their flank. He'd tell them if there was anything they'd missed or if the demon had come back to kill them. He'd put Arthur in the front because it seemed that Dawn had proven effective against these creatures.

Would Valyrian Steel have the same effect? He'd asked himself as he held Longclaw tighter. It was, by all means, a magical weapon, but it had come from the same cloth as these monstrosities. He was at a crossroads on that end.

They proceeded further down the hallway until they came across what seemed to be a reception room. At the end of which were two identical ebony doors.

Even the Dragonlords had receptionistsā€¦ He'd snorted to himself and pressed on. The door opened with a casual sigh, revealing the darkness that had been held within.

How many years had it been since these doors were opened? Mormont nearly forgot that he'd been one of many to come to Valyria over the last few centuries. How many of the others had made it this far?

He'd sheathed Longclaw and had taken out his matchbox from his coat pocket. It was the best they could do for the moment. He'd struck a match and nodded for Arthur to follow him.

Mormont stepped carefully, not wanting to move too quickly, and put out the light. Thankfully, however, he'd scanned the walls and had soon found a torch sconce. He took the dusty metal handle and wiped it clean. Then, he'd torn off the tattered remains of his shirt and stuffed it into the middle of the metal circle. In a few moments, Mormont held a freshly crackling torch.

The torchlight had lit up the room they'd found themselves in. It was cylindrical, Mormont found. Though oddly enough, there was no other doorway leading deeper into the tower, and when he looked up, all he saw was inky darkness staring back at him.

The walls were small bricks of black stone and there were ten identical pillars made ofā€¦ brimstone. Five on either side of the wide circular room. Mormont could smell the sulfur, but he'd never seen red brimstone before.

The whole place screamed lobby to him. The reception area was where visitors would be omitted. This room would be the place they'd be collected and taken further inside.

"What's this?" Arthur had asked. Mormont found the Sword of the Morning in the torchlight, and what he was looking at.

Sticking out of the floor in the center of the room, was a large hand made of dragonglass. On it was a massive book and an ornamental dagger made of Valyrian Steel. There were strange glyphs and runes on the blade in a dialect that Mormont didn't understand one bit.

He hovered the torchlight over the book while Arthur cracked it open, blowing the dust off the old pages. How the damn thing hadn't been worn away by age was a mystery. Then again, Mormont had stopped being surprised the moment he'd set his eye on not one, but two different abominations that same day.

However, Mormont could clearly identify that the book was written in High Valyrian. While he knew bits and scraps of the language, it certainly wouldn't be enough. "Can you read it?"

"No." Arthur shook his head plainly. "Now I'm wishing I hadn't blown off those Maester lessonsā€¦" He muttered.

Mormont snickered. "Swords and girls, hmmm?"

The Sword of the Morning was unapologetic. "No remorse." He managed a light grin. The levity was needed after they'd faced down the monstrous demon that had chased them.

Mormont looked past the book and down into the palm of the huge dragonglass hand. Carved into the open palm was the outline of a much smaller hand print. A human hand.

With the curiosity of a child, Starag Mormont had knelt down and pressed his free hand into the open slot. It barely fit, with Mormont's hand being a bit too large. It was likely that the Dragonlords hadn't any children who were as big as he was.

After a few moments, nothing happened. Mormont pulled his hand back from the slot and dusted it off on his coat. He chalked it up to him not being a Dragonlord himself, or anyone related to them.

Waitā€¦ He looked at the knife and the hand print in the dragonglass palm. Then back at the book. He had his suspicions, but he didn't know for sure.

There was one thing Mormont was absolutely certain of, however. This place definitely held some kind of hidden prize within. It was an egg waiting to be opened, to reveal the golden yolk inside of it. A newly married woman waiting to give her maidenhead to her husband. A chest praying to be unlocked by a worthy adventurerā€¦

Mormont came to a decision. "Take the book and the knife." He ordered. "Perhaps Marwyn can make sense of it." He turned to the men who had been idly inspecting the room.

"Let's get out of here."