Chapter 5; Daughter of Serpents;
Characters of the chapter
Tiraen Tasvius Magister of the Tevinter Imperium, ambassador to Meereen, commander of the 5th expeditionary legion of Tevinter, formerly apprentice to Magister Cato Argos.
Morzol zo Raqun King of Meereen, elected supreme speaker for the Resurgent Masters of Meereen
Pet slave and blood thrall to Tiraen Tasvius
Selia slave to Tiraen Tasvius
Cursive/Bold text in the chapter is Valyrian.
In the city of Meereen, the great fighting pit was full of cheering citizens watching the games. This was a special day of games, arranged to host the guests from Tevinter. Consequently the flag of Tevinter was present positively everywhere around the arena and many of the fights had been arranged to themes thought to please these foreigners. In a way the day was also a statement, since a certain Queen had been known to strongly disapprove of the fighting pits for almost the entirety of her reign. Indeed this was the first time since the fighting pits had been open since her departure from the city. In this manner the reopening arranged now was an open declaration, a statement to the city and the rest of the world that there was no longer cause to be afraid of potential retribution on behalf of the Mother of Dragons, thanks to the new allies that were being celebrated today.
In the podium reserved for the most important people, two figures were sitting. One was the newest king of Meereen, Morzol zo Raqun, who had gained his position because he was the wealthiest and the most ruthless, and because all of his potential rivals had mysteriously encountered unfortunate and lethal accidents. That many of those individuals had been supportive of the previous Queen's regime or were otherwise anti–Tevinter in attitude, while the sitting king was notorious for supporting the Imperium's interests without reservation was considered a fascinating coincidence. The king was dressed according to his station in garishly ornate clothes of gold and rich purple lined with leopard fur. There were golden rings on his fingers and long, thick, golden chains adorned with many different precious gemstones around his neck. The outfit was completed with a shirt of golden chainmail meant to invoke his (sadly nonexistent) military achievements. The final result was a blunt, straightforward display of wealth, almost ridiculously so.
The person sitting to the right of the king was a woman of around twenty five years of age. She was Tiraen of the house Tasvius, an ambassador and mage appointed to oversee matters here in Meereen on behalf of the Imperium. She had the tanned complexion of a Tevinter and her shoulder length straight hair was darker than the blackest night, currently neatly combed back behind her ears. Her eyes were of the same color as her hair, dark and deep pits of shadow. Her face and body were clearly featured and harmonious, as if designed by a master sculptor, the result of a pursuit of perfection in bloodlines practiced by the nobility of the Imperium. With high cheekbones and a strong, sharp chin she had a decidedly regal look to her. Her normal facial expression was that of a quiet, patronizing amusement, an unspoken certainty in her rank and authority as well as her ability to defend it, a fact that in her mind rarely needed enforcement, if at all. Her choice in clothing was quite different from that of the king, or indeed anyone else in the arena. She was wearing a long sleeved, hooded tunic with a hem that ended just above her knees, trousers and a long cape over one shoulder covering the left side of her from view. All three pieces of clothing were made from heavy white fabric, so meticulously clean it shone in the warm midday sun. Subtle enchantments ensured that this would be the case no matter the conditions. Even if the sky would have rained pure mud, her clothes would have remained spotless.
Black was the main contrasting color used in her outfit. Black knee high boots on her legs, a black leather belt around her waist set with a single red gemstone and shoulder pads made of black leather and shiny black splints. Her cape bore the twin serpents emblem of the Imperium across its outer surface, again made in black. On her hands she had long gloves of black velvet and on her right hand she had a severe looking steel ring shaped to look like a snake with ruby eyes eating its own tail. The gloves were split from the inner side, so that she could expose her arms from wrist to elbow in two moves. Had she done so the numerous scars on her arms would have been plain to see, marking her for the blood mage she was. Her hair was unadorned save for a single silver chain so delicate it might have as well been a string of rope, twining around the length of a lock of her hair, just above her left ear. Around her neck another silver chain could be seen, part of a pendant she kept under her clothing.
Just behind Tiraen was standing a blonde elf woman in simple but adequate clothes of various shades of brown, head bowed and quiet. Leaning against the armrest of her chair was Tiraen's staff. The body of the staff was made of dark wood and the countless runes across its length, made of an alloy of silverite and lyrium, made it glow with silvery light ever so slightly. The lower end of the staff ended in a long blade of polished steel, while the upper end had been shaped into the likeness of four distinct species of snake rearing to attack, with their mouths open and teeth bared, with small rubies for eyes. Without a doubt her staff was her most prized possession, both due to its monetary value and for its ability to amplify and focus her magical powers.
In the arena the announcer was calling for a new bout to begin, and a pair of combatants ran to the arena. One was outfitted as a Westerosi Knight, the other was dressed as a Dothraki warrior. Tiraen's eyes lit up and a small smile of excitement crept to her lips as she understood what was going on.
"You've gathered our enemies to us. Now I understand why you asked me for a Champion for today." She spoke to the King in fluent but strongly accented Valyrian, a language she had seen fit to teach herself when she had been appointed as an ambassador to this place.
"Indeed" Answered the King. "I do hope you have chosen wisely, I went through the expense of finding the best fighters I could get my hands on."
"You know, I had half a mind to name myself as the champion, but then I decided that would be unfair." Tiraen said with a smirk.
"Unfair!?" The King sputtered. "I assure these men are deadly, they've spent their lives in killing other men, worthy men…"
"…and I am certain they will be impressive today" Tiraen interrupted calmly "but skilled or pitiful, strong or weak, quick or clumsy, all fighters in the world have one very specific trait in common… they have blood in their veins, and I can make it boil. What are they against that?"
The King struggled to find the words, clearly disturbed by her admission, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly. Finally with a shudder he turned back towards arena where the spear wielding champion of Meereen had walked to the arena, saluting the cheering crowds with his weapon raised high.
"Well, no matter, at least I get to show you all my newest project." Tiraen said, resting her chin against the back of her hand, following the events of the arena intently.
The King glanced at her, curiosity in his eyes. "Your…project? What do you mean?" Then he heard the assembled crowd give a collective astonished gasp, and he turned his gaze back to the arena where the Tevinter champion had just entered and it was all he could do to suppress his own gasp.
The Tevinter champion was an unnaturally huge man, so tall the tallest of other men could barely reach up to his chest and nearly as wide. His limbs were unnaturally huge as well, with oversized musculature making them the size of small trees. Despite his huge size he was clearly able to move quickly, with his movements showing the grace and agility of a lifelong fighter. He was dressed in full plate armor made of shining steel that seemed to conceal his massive form only barely. Runes glowing with blue fire adorned the edges of the plates of his armor and silver reliefs of ancient battles decorated every remaining free inch of it. A Tevinter style helm fashioned in the same manner concealed his face. Over his armor he was wearing a white tabard bearing the sigil of the Imperium on its surface. As his weapons he had a Tevinter style long sword in one hand and a Dothraki arakh in the other. As he walked with surety in his steps the other fighters and even the announcer took a wary step away from him, eyeing him with concern on their faces.
"Gods have mercy, where did you find that beast!?" The King of Meereen exclaimed.
"I made him." Tiraen deadpanned with a shrug. "Oh, not all the way you understand, I didn't birth the bastard. I just made some… alterations." She continued after noting the shocked expression of her host. Her explanation did not seem to set the king's mind at ease in the slightest:
"Alterations? What kind of alterations?"
"There were many processes, most of them rather complex and difficult to explain, not to mention things you honestly do not want to know the specifics of. Suffice it to say that he has been considerably improved from his original capabilities. The strength of three men, the endurance of five, and most of all he is completely mine, incapable of disloyal thoughts. Not to boast but I am quite proud of Pet, he is one of my finest creations."
"Pet?" The King queried.
Tiraen shrugged again "That's what I call him, because it amuses me to do so, because that is all he is now, a loyal dog. It's not the name he was born with though."
"Then what is his name? Who is he? Is he even human?" The king asked, his curiosity still rising.
"He's human alright. Well, mostly, there are a few things that… but that's not important. As to who he is, you remember the Battle of the Shattered Mind about a year ago?" The Tevinter woman replied.
The King nodded, realization slowly creeping across his features.
"And you remember that a Khal was capturedin that battle, subdued by our magic? Well, I was the one who did it." Tiraen continued explaining.
"So that is…" The King stammered.
"That it is him, yes." Tiraen finished his sentence for him.
"He does not even look like any Dothraki I have ever seen." King Morzol said, amazement in his voice
"Of course not!" Tiraen scoffed, as if insulted by the notion. "He is a Champion of Tevinter now and he will look the part, I will not have him dressed like one of the horse–savages."
In the arena the contestants looked ready to begin. The King of Meereen nodded to her, and without hesitation she clapped her hands to begin the match. And so the fight began, the Champions of Tevinter and Meereen as a team facing their Westerosi and Dothraki opponents. Just like the king had promised, the fighters were remarkably skilled and the fight went on for a long time. As the fight raged on, king Morzol spoke up yet again:
"I must say, I would never have expected you to have a creature like that. I was under the impression that you disapproved of slave soldiers."
"I do." she replied "And while I am aware that the people of my country sometimes bulk out our armies with expendable slave soldiers, as do yours, I have never considered this a wise practice. I think it is a foolish risk to empower something with the ability to kill when you can never be absolutely certain of their loyalties or your ability to control them. Take the late Magister Danarius for instance. He tried to create a potent slave soldier for himself, using some kind of ritual involving lyrium marks inscribed on the skin. Of course that inevitably backfires and he ends up dead along with his apprentice and who knows how many of his soldiers. The last I heard the filthy slave is here in Essos, interfering with our operations at every opportunity. This must sound rather familiar to you, what with the Dragon Queen stealing the unsullied of Astapor and turning them against the rest of you. Pet, however, is not the same thing."
"Is he not? He seems to be the same thing to me." The King replied, frowning.
"So it might seem, yes. However Pet is different, because when I took his mind, I made sure to take away his free will as well. Without my guidance and my magic to sustain him he has only minor capabilities to independent thought, mostly focused on combat capabilities and basic ability to take care of himself. In short he has the same mental capabilities of your average fish." Tiraen answered with a smirk.
She was about to continue her explanation but just then a sound of commotion from the crowd caught her attention. The Meereenese champion had just died, overreaching with his spear and getting his throat cut open by the warrior dressed as a westerosi, to the booing and shouts of anger from the crowd. Now facing only the champion of Tevinter, his two opponents circled him cautiously, trying to divide his attention between them. Pet remained calm, keeping his weapons between himself and his opponents, adjusting his position to keep the both of them within his line of sight. The knight moved up first. Pet blocked his blow and swept him off his feet and the knight landed on his back with a resounding crash. Pet then turned to his Dothraki opponent. He blocked his opponents attack with one blade and swept down with the other one, promptly slicing off both his hands at the wrist. His opponent's screams were cut short as pet rammed his longsword through his chest, puncturing his heart. Pet pulled his blade free and let his enemy tumble onto the sand. Pet turned towards his remaining opponent, who was now back on his feet. The said knight lunged forward, going for a stab. Pet saw the attack coming and caught the blade of his enemy with both of his. With a resounding crack the blade of the knight came apart. The knight stared at the broken stump of his sword for just a moment, just before Pet lunged forward and promptly beheaded him.
With a wide grin on her face, Tiraen stood up clapping and cheering: "Well done Pet! Glorious!" She shouted, this time in her native Tevene. Taking their cue from the Tevinter woman, the crowd also erupted in cheers. Pet turned to face Tiraen, bowing to her, then turning around and leaving the arena without saying a word.
"It seems that your Maker has favored the arm of your champion today." The King commented sourly, upset that the champion he had chosen had been felled. He was then surprised to hear his guest scoff. "You… don't follow the Maker?" He asked. It was a rare thing in the extreme to find a thedosian human who didn't worship the god of the Chant of Light, even among tevinters.
Tiaren paused, taking a moment to consider her words before answering: "No, I keep… another God."
"Which is…?" The king enquired.
"His name is only to be known by his faithful." Tiraen answered. "Not for his sake you understand, but for the safety of those that follow his will. Our faith has enemies, and we do not wish to draw their attention. One day though all the people of the world will know his name and his will. Some of us are simply privileged to serve the true god beforehand and secure his favor." She then continued.
"A true god?" The king mused, sounding unconvinced. "I have heard of many gods and faiths in my lifetime, and the one thing they all have in common is that they all proclaim themselves the true faith."
Tiraen smirked. "And how many of those faiths can say they have seen the face of their god with their own eyes and heard his words with their own ears? I have. How many can claim that their parents waged war at their god's side as I can?"
The king of Meereen gave her a long, curious look. "You make such bold claims, ambassador. What would it take to get me to know your god and judge your claims for myself?" He asked.
"It would take that you would convince me that you would not betray our confidence, that you are sufficiently loyal to our cause, that of the Imperium. Prove yourself worthy, and you might know the name of my god. Until then I will keep my silence in this matter." Tiraen replied.
King Morzol gave a forced smile, realizing that the conversation was not going to go any further today, and turned his attention back to the arena. "Well, whoever your god is, I hope he gives us his favor in the wars to come, especially the war we have planned against the westerosi." He said. "That is, if we ever get around to start that particular war." He added pointedly.
"Patience." Tiraen said sharply, masking her irritation. "The invasion you speak of will come. Your people will have their vengeance on the Dragon Queen."
"So you continue to insist. Yet I have not seen significant progress. Words mean nothing if action does not follow." Morzol said in accusation.
Tiraen regarded the King of Meereen coolly for several moments before speaking: "Has the Imperium not kept its word on every promise we have made thus far? Have we not been most generous towards you in our trading with you? The wealth of the cities allied with us has expanded tenfold since our arrival. And when your enemies came to inflict you harm, did we not take the time to train your defenders? Did we not arm them with our steel? Did we not do battle at their side, keeping faith as trusted friends and allies?"
"Certainly, but…"the King began to say.
"The Imperium shall be at the head of any assault we make against the Twin Kingdoms." Tiraen interrupted. "No other power in Essos has the strength or the will to attempt such. No other power can unite the rest of you for this war. You know this as well as any. And so it shall be the Imperium's fleets and armies that will conquer those lands, our spells that will lay them low, our soldiers first and foremost who will fight and die to see this done. All we ask of you in return is that when the time comes you stand by us and do your part as we direct you to." She said with a stern voice."I ask you to trust the Imperium, as you have done before. Trust us to keep our promise in the fullness of time, and give you the war and victory we both wish to have." She added with a more soft tone.
"As you say." The king relented after a pause to consider if it was truly wise to challenge his guest. "But surely any preparations could be for naught if our enemies choose to wield their dragon against us. I trust you have taken this problem into consideration?"
"Indeed." Tiraen agreed. "That problem is one of the primary reasons we have held back on our invasion. Once we have a reliable answer, we will have everything we need to succeed."
"Can we be certain that such a solution even exists?" The king asked.
"There are always ways." Tiraen said with confidence. "Besides, dragons aren't completely invincible. There are records of the beasts being slain, both here and in Thedas. We simply need something that will allow us to do so without wasting an inordinate amount of our military assets in the attempt. Something suited for general application, so we don't have to rely on heroes of legend to win our battles."
It was then that Selia, who a moment ago had been conversing with one of Tiraen's soldiers, placed a hand on her owner's shoulder, leaning closer to speak quietly into her ear: "Mistress, your soldiers bid me tell you that Magister Cato has arrived and requests your presence at your earliest convenience. He awaits you at your residence."
Tiraen smiled. "Good. Have word sent that I will meet with him as soon as the day's responsibilities permit me to do so. Until then, return to the mansion and see to it that all of Magister Cato's needs are attended to."
"Of course mistress, at once." Selia said before leaving, one of Tiraen's soldiers in tow.
"What was that you spoke of?" The King asked, as he didn't know the language she and Selia had conversed in.
Tiraen turned back to the King: "Your Majesty, I am pleased to tell you that a dear friend and colleague of mine, Magister Cato Argos, has arrived in the city. He is a very important man, so I strongly recommend you offer him an audience, as a courtesy. I think tomorrow evening would be appropriate, so he has time to settle in."
The king nodded, already pondering how to rearrange his schedule to accommodate this audience. It would not do to refuse a Tevinter after all.
Okay, I may have gone a little overboard with the character description here but what the hell. It doesn't happen all that often, and this one is rather important, not to mention someone who ended up coming something of a favorite of mine. I had a very specific image of her and I wanted to translate that to writing.