Hi to all of you. Sorry for taking such a long time to update this work. But like I say, this is on a "second tier" list. I haven't abandoned. I just won't update it as fast as my other works. Sorry for all the fans of this work. But, good news. I'll post an artwork about how Hawke's dragon form looks! Follow me on Tumblr.
Now, the next update is going to be as follows!
-The Overlord Geass (One Chapter)
-The White Wolf of Winterfell (One Chapter)
-The White Lion of the Red Keep (Two Chapters)
-See you all later!
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Chapter 13
Essos, a continent as vast and mysterious as it was dangerous. No one would deny it. Essos has a long history and a bloody one at that. But among all those centuries of war and blood and forgotten ruins. Some still remember the days of glory. The days when the Dragon Lords of Valyria ruled the skies and conquest the land were indisputable. Yet, that was centuries ago, and no one remembered what a dragon looked like until now. The news of the Red Emerald Dragon lurking around Essos, flying above the Free Cities, and obscuring entire towns with its shadow, became the topic of everyday conversation.
Everyone knew about a living dragon now, in fact, for almost an entire year. Many travelled to Westeros just to witness a mythic creature coming to life. And those who saw it were marvelled by it and terrified the same. However, what surprised everyone, if not all, was that the Dragon could change its form into one resembling a human. A woman with horns and wings and a dragon-type tail. Of course, that became more of a myth or simply a rumour for those outside Westeros. It was absurd to believe such a thing existed. But it kept people talking.
But, soon enough, that'll change since the so-called Red Emerald Dragon was currently on her road trip to learn more about the strange world she was in and to discover what had happened to the magic of that place. Soon enough, she'll leave her mark on Essos, for good or bad.
However, before that, Hawke had to first find where to start.
Ah, across the Narrow Sea was Pentos, right? Mm, one of the cities built by the Valyrians. I wonder if they used magic while doing so. Hawke thought as she flew high above the sky. She could see the coastline ahead of her and the Bay of Pentos. However, now she wondered how she should approach it. Her size was quite a concern to her. If she could barely fit on King's Landing, it would not be different on Pentos. Although, she had heard the famous port city was much larger than Westeros' capital.
Still, I should be careful with how I approach things. They'll not be happy if I start wrecking things around. Hawke thought, knowing that if she did something like that, those in the Free Cities might pin the blame on the Targaryen, and war may begin. Paranoia, on Hawke's part, perhaps. But there was no love between the Targaryen and the rest of the Free Cities. Quite the bad blood going on between them. Hawke remembered hearing about how, since the fall of Valyria, the cities that survived the Doom practically took over the mantel of the "True Valyrian" heir. Every city wanted to control the other. Each one fought for the supremacy of Essos for a long time. Many came and went, filled with the desire to become kings or whatever. None succeeded, but the bad blood remained. And each city started to depart from their Valryian heritage, culturally and nationally. Each of them now had their own costumes and even coins were different, depending on their city one would hear a different tale of how Valyrian used to be. It sounded like they haven't truly given up, on that idea of being "part" of the true rulers of the sky.
That mentality reminded Hawke about the Free Marches. Each city was now so different and had its own costumes that one must think how close they were to their Varyian ancestors. If any, at all. Nevertheless, the relationship with the last descendants of the previous Valyrian families remained the same.
The Targaryen family were seen simply as another pretender that wanted to claim the ruins of an old and dead civilization. A sad thing, but Hawke recalled the same behaviour from some old families in Tevinter. So, it only remains to see how Hawke would behave now. What does she want to do? Does Pentos have anything she wants? Not really. Hawke's goals lay on the Smoking Sea, however, if there was something she could learn from those places, she'll stop by. Still, Hawke didn't want to cause problems or any misunderstanding. However, Hawke was still Hawke and wouldn't lose an opportunity to scare people and be this "scary big dragon" that the world comes to fear.
Varric did tell me I am pretty theatrical. Hawke thought, with a hint of happiness, knowing that the part of her who still loves joking and pranking people hasn't left her still. It was a good reminder she was still Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. So, with that in mind, Hawke decided just to go by around Pentos, puffing chest, sort to speak.
Everyone around Pentos saw the giant flying Dragon simply flying around. Hawke smugly looked down, watching the people running around like headless ants. However, Hawke saw something strange below as she was doing sky doughnuts. She flew down and used some buildings to rest her body. Hawke could still hear the screamings, and how many of the buildings were having a hard time trying to not fall down her weight. But she focused on the building before her.
"A Dragon! The Dragon is here!" A language was spoken, but Hawke wasn't paying too much attention to the reason why she could understand it.
"Please, help!"
Hawke heard a woman screaming in that big villa. It was clear a wealthy lord lived there. Hawke made her way in as slowly as she could. Sadly, her paws and long, thick tail damaged some buildings below. But that did not bother her. She could sense a small and faint linger of magic. Incredibly tainted and diluted. But one she could recognize.
Targaryen? Hawke thought, slowly pushing her head into the window, breaking it and causing more damage. There, she had a sense of Deja Vu as she witnessed a woman surrounded by a few soldiers. Bodyguards of sorts, the woman worriedly covered her pregnant belly. Utterly terrified of the giant dragon's head breaking the entire wall of the room with its head.
Hawke saw, and tilted her head, causing her long horns to scratch the walls. The woman looked ready to give birth.
Hawke's head couldn't fit in that enormous room, not even half of it. Yet, it wasn't needed. She sniffed the air carefully and took her time digesting it.
That woman... has Targaryen blood. But... not quite? Hawke wondered why it could be. A distant cousin? Maybe, the daughter of a Targaryen bastard? Hawke needed to figure it out. Yet, it was clear that the woman did share some slight resemblance to the Targaryen, albeit minimal. Her eyes were blue and not purple; Hawke also saw pale golden hair streaked with silver. That was enough for the Red Emerald Dragon to conclude that she may or may not be related to the Targaryen. However, now that she thought about it.
Maybe, that young woman was just one of the many Valyrian descendants left behind. It didn't matter. What mattered to Hawke was that the baby held just enough traces of magic that made her interested in him. But, as Hawke sniffed the air, she also sensed something in the woman.
She is sick. Hawke recognized the smell. It was pestilence and was around the city.
"Could it be... a plague?" Hawke's words came out as Elven, so no one could understand her. "I won't be surprised if that's the case."
The bodyguards and the woman in question were utterly terrified of the talking Dragon, speaking words they couldn't understand. Soon enough, Hawke conveyed some strange words and opened her mouth. Soon, a greenish wind appeared, surrounding the room.
Those inside there were expecting the Dragon to spit out fire. But that didn't happen. Instead, they were simultaneously met with a gentle breeze, quite cold, and warmth. A sort of strange smell of honey came later. Soon, the woman felt better, and those pains and marks of the Grey Plague on her body began to disappear. It hurt at first, like something being ripped off of their skin. But then nothing else.
Those guards inflicted by the same disease soon noticed their skin, clear as day. They couldn't believe it. Each one of those bodyguards thought they were dead. They were just waiting to die there, with the woman they were charged to protect, waiting for her to give birth and die. Now, the Red Emerald Dragon has somehow cured them of any illness.
Hawke hummed, slowly moving away. She carefully turned around, watching the people on the streets, watching her with fear and marvelled.
"Ah, this city does look quite sick... oh, my tail almost destroyed an entire avenue. Sorry."
Hawke's words made no sense for the people there, of course. But the Dragon Lady did try to apologize. So, watching the mess she made. Hawke decided to pay by flying around the city and using her newly acquired skill, Healing Breath. Quite the silly name. But Hawke was getting used to the fact that, as a Dragon. She could use her entire body to cast magic. Not only her long nails but also her tail, eyes, and even her breath.
I do hope with this, they forgive me for destroying some of their merchant stores. Hawke thought while looking at Pentos as she began to fly away.
Hawke didn't know that the woman she had just saved, and the child that soon would be born, would cause problems in the future.
Volantis, the First Daugther of the Valyrian Freehold, was holding out their annual Triarch Elections, where the three leaders of the city would be elected. It was quite the festivity, ten days of pure party camouflaged as campaigning and bribery everywhere, as the vote came out of all places and from everyone. Not that it was a bad thing at all. It was all for the sake of tradition and culture. Nevertheless, those who would become Triarch would be in charge of leading Volantis for the following year. A year that not even their feet would touch the ground.
Strange people, the Volantene were.
"My sire, we are currently ahead for the seat," a tattoed slave told his lord. A very old man has grey hair, and few teeth left. He was Malaquo Maegyr, one of the Tiger faction members of Volantis. A member of one of the few families that could be claimed to be descendants from Old Valyria and lived behind the Black Wall.
The old man wasn't concerned about the vote coming into his name. Malaquo knew he'll be victorious. He would be elected again, so Malaquo's mind focused on other, more important things.
"Has any word from the Red Emerald Dragon come to the city?" Malaquo asked, filled with excitement and intrigued.
"No, master... not at all."
"I see..."
Like everyone on Essos, he heard what happened on Pentos about the fact that a dragon bearing powerful and unknown magic could heal an entire city of the Grey Plague. The Red Emerald Dragon flew around the city, breathing some green air from above, healing all illnesses, not just the Grey Plague. After that, some began to claim that it was the work of a God, maybe one of the Old Valyrian's Gods. Who could deny such a possibility? Who could deny anything of it? That was unheard of, although the "giant dragon that speaks a foreign language" was already absurd. It added more to the list of the things the Red Emerald Dragon could do.
Nevertheless, when he heard that the Red Emerald Dragon had left Westeros, it brought down a considerable urge to meet it. Especially since what took place on Pentos was now verified as genuine. Malaquo, like many others, now believed, without a doubt, that the Dragon could change form.
The things we could do... if we had the power of a God.
Malaquo thought, with a sigh, as he stared at the city of Volantis. The first daughter and the reminder of what the Valyrian used to do. The true kings of Essos. Deep inside him, he wondered how his ancestor would react if they saw the state of the world now.
How far has the sacred Valyrian blood fallen? A question Malaquo questioned to himself, just like many others of his same blood. Inside the Black Wall, the last remnants of the Valyrian Freehold made their home. Yet, now that another day of the Triarch Election was going on. Malaquo simply went away with it. He had to stop the daydreaming of ancient times of glory that wasn't his own.
"Master, everything is ready," the poor slave stated as Malaquo sighed.
"Good," as Malaquo was about to leave for another day of festivities, bribery and vice. Like everyone around him, he felt as if everything had become quieter. The sound of the city became mute, something incredible impossible to happen. Volantis was a city that never slept. Yet it did, and then what came after was something that has never been heard on Volantins for hundreds of years.
A loud, bestially road. One that made Malaquo's skin shiver and his heart beat faster.
"Master...!" One of the marked soldiers of his screamed at him. Still, Malaquo could be told what it was. He already knew. A large smile appeared on his face as he stared at them.
"Get my elephant!" Right now, Malaquo didn't care about the Triaych Elections. The only thing on his mind was the Red Emerald Dragon.
Hawke had been flying for days now, visiting the beautiful world, sometimes just laying on top of a mountain to just bask in the view she had. But she had still found her way into the Smoking Sea. Hawke was going south, but travelling to new places took a lot of work.
But Hawke was going the right trail. She knew it by looking at the Rhoyne river.
Following this river will lead me to Volantis... then The Smoking Sea.
Hawke has gotten quite used to her dragon form. In fact, she found it more comfortable than when she was in her "human-like" form. Hawke felt more in control, more powerful. That's why, as she kept flying, the moon was setting up, and the night was starting. Hawke distinguishes a city ahead of her, far away.
It was Volantis, the city that started it all. The first daughter, as they called it. The city that proudly held the title as the greatest of all Freehold, self-proclaimed.
Hawke could sense magic in the air. It was the same as Pentos. So, that made her wonder if all the cities built by the Valyrians would have the same vague scent of magic. Just like Tevinter. Hawke looked down and could see, with her Dragon's eyes, a large festivities. A carnival of sorts. Hawke was one to take advantage of the opportunity to flex her power. But since she was a dragon, it was all fair game. Besides, Hawke could see the Veil of this world or something like what she saw back at Kings Landing on the parts of the city. Spirits walk along the extensive and sizeable black wall. Recreating whatever history was left behind on the walls.
Still, as Hawke flew around the city, the scent of magic and blood became more noticeable. It hurt her nose. The taint hit her.
I smelled some of it at Pentos, but it was barely distinguishable. But here... this city's buildings. That Black Walls reeks of Blood Magic.
Hawke thought as she decided to take a better look. Her arrival was loud and clear. Hawke's roared across the sky to let them know, she was there. Not that it was needed. Her size was enough to blow away carpets, flags, or a person if she tries hard enough. Still, it was an announcement of sorts. That she was going to visit them.
Volantis was true, a big city. Immense, definitely bigger than Pentos and King's Landing by miles apart. The countless ships coming in and out, the large and vast shore and port. The countless buildings, and streets. Definitely, a city of more than a million inhabitants. That's how big it was.
Again, Hawke's giant body had trouble adjusting itself to the city. However, as the noticeable screams became louder, many weren't truly running away from her. No, they all seemed to stay put and stared at her. How many times one would see a giant dragon, dwarfing the biggest building in Volantis? Never. Hawke prostrated herself on top of a large Tower, the biggest of all Volantis, and let her body rest on half the Port.
All the people saw the Dragon's size and simply gaped at it. The tail was long enough to go from the shore down the sea. Her wings could block the view of hundreds of people as if they were staring at a large red wall. The head of the Dragon, and the jaw, while opened, could easily fit five adult elephants and eat them whole without no issue.
Hawke's dragon form was just that large. And even she was slowly starting to believe she was growing in size. Maybe it was the magic of her being, adapting to this world, or it was something else.
Those emeralds encrusted her body. The beautiful shine it reflected. They looked like stars embedded into her. Now, the people of Volantis understood, why they called her the Red Emerald Dragon.
Hawke glanced down on the Port and saw all the people standing there on the shore and poor merchants on the small ships. Everyone looked at her; some went down to their knees and prayed. That confused Hawke, but she noticed that the tower she was resting on half of her body was quite big and had a strange scent of magic. Again, it was Blood magic but with a distant taste of kind.
What's this smell? Hawke sniffed the tower, looking around. This is way bigger than the Sept of Baelor on King's Landing. She noticed quickly. However, soon enough, down below, she started to hear a chant.
There, some kind of priestess was chanting strange words to her. The woman had incredible red hair and quite unsettling red eyes. But more than that, Hawke sensed something odd about the woman.
Slowly, Hawke's head went down, meeting the woman and those kneeling behind her. Typically, someone would run the other way, but the woman did not do so. No, that woman while shocked and nervous. There was a strange sense of excitement in her eyes. Again, the woman began to chant in a peculiar dialect as many around her began to kneel.
Now, this is quite uncomfortable. Hawke grimaced at the fact she was being considered a religious figure. But her annoyance at such a reality was quickly put aside by the fact that the woman with red hair and red eyes was different. Hawkes' dragon face frowned because the woman didn't smell human. There was some reminiscence of it, of course. But she didn't feel like a mortal.
Again, Hawke sniffed the woman and was soon met with the odour of magic, blood, fire, ashes and death. However, it reminded Hawke of those times she visited Mortalitasi of Nevarra. The fragrance was almost the same. A hint of magic with the essence of lingering spirits and some blood magic on it. Now, Hawke was utterly curious about the woman. Since she was the only being she had met so far, she honestly smelled like a magic user. Perhaps, she was a mage of sorts.
"You, where did you learn magic?" Hawke asked as the red-haired woman simply stared at her in shock. "Ah, yeah, I forgot about this."
Hawke then began to transform back into her human form. Those sun-covering wings vanished, and the large body wasn't there more. As its fire burned down an entire tree, the Dragon disappeared from sight of everyone. An leave only behind a woman of some kind.
Hawke ignored them. The reactions, she was used to them. Slowly she approached the priestess and sniffed her again. Quite a strange thing to do, but Hawke was slowly becoming less human as time passed.
"You, woman," Hawke's voice even sounded more withdrawn. It was still her voice, but it now said older. It was possible. "I smell magic in you. Blood magic, and death. Are you a mage?"
Hawke went right to the point, not trying to waste time.
The priestess seemed taken aback by the sudden question, but she smiled at the opportunity. "I welcome you... Red Emerald Dragon. Messenger of Fire and Light. My name is Melisandre, a servant of the Lord of Light."
Hawke tilted her head, confused by those strange titles, but didn't correct Melisandre.
"Amell... call Amell."
"Of course... my lady Amell," Melisandre replied quickly, and those eyes shined brightly. "I am indeed a practitioner of the ancient arts of long ago. I Learned it all on the Asshai. On the Shadow Lands."
"Asshai," Hawke muttered, knowing where she could at least find more about magic. Still, the smell didn't leave her nose. "The smell of fire and ashes... they are all over you. Why is that?"
That question seemed to take Melisandre by surprise but did not honestly shock her that much since in the mind of the Red Priestess. It made sense of sorts that she smelled as such. So, the only thing Melisandre did was smile at Hawke.
"I'm a servant of the Lord of Light. Perhaps, that's why I'm blessed to be surrounded by his glory."
Hawke found that quite creepy. But kept her opinion to herself.
However, soon enough, Hawke noticed many people arriving at the Port. Elephants were all embedded with luxurious gold and rocks. Large and arrogant, just like the people riding them. The Triarch of Volantis appeared immediately. And while the elections were still technically going. The occasion at hand needed them to be together.
Among the Triarch was Malaquo, who was about to simply jump out of his ride if need be. He saw Hawke in her human form and was stunned to speak there.
"Be wary of them, my lady," Melisandre whispered. "For they wish only their own benefit."
Hawke knew people like that already; however, what she noticed was the slaves around them, following them like lost puppies. When Rhaegar told her about slavery being a massive thing in Essos. Hawke naively thought it wouldn't be as bad as Tevinter. Yet, it seemed that it was a lie. In fact, Hawke could see that it was just as bad as Tevinter. And that definitely made her furious.
"You say your name is Melisandre..."
"I am," the Red Priestess replied quickly. "I am at your service, the fire of my lord."
Hawke had no idea of what does that mean but simply ignored it. "Those are slaves..."
"Indeed they are."
"Those marks... those tattoos, what do they represent?"
"Their job... slave warriors are marked with those stripes. Whores with a tear under their eye, and so on."
Hawke took a deep breath. Once she exhaled, smoke came out of her mouth. Her fangs were visible, and her eyes shined brightly.
"Slavery..." Hawke hissed. "I hate slavers."
Melisandre turned around and saw Hawke's eyes filled with rage. It was strange, the sensation Melisandre felt right there around her. Usually, she wouldn't mind feeling the sense of fire nearby. No, she welcomed it. But, now, around her. Everything felt so dense over her. Almost as if the air itself was becoming more challenging to breathe.
Hawke's jaw tightened, watching the fat old man approach her while being carried by his slaves. As if he were too important for his feet to touch the ground. That didn't sit well with Hawke at all.
"Welcome, glorious Red Emerald Dragon."
Malaquo exclaimed. "Welcome to the grand city of Volantis. The first daughter. The true heir of Old Valyria."
Hawke smelled the old man and almost gagged. The odour of wine and rotten teeth.
"We are so grateful to have you!"
Hawke looked past him and only stared at the many slaves with tattoos on their faces, arms, etc. Even after such a long time... I can't look past this. Fenris would truly hate being here. Hawke sneered at the fat man and wasn't keen to hear whatever he said. She walked towards him, paying no mind to everyone else and their stares.
Malaquo was still sitting on top of his small carriage, which was on top of four slaves, serving as living pillars. "I've longed to meet you... as one of the descendants of Old Valyrian. I believe that we can come to an understanding about how we can help both of us-"
"Down."
Malaquo just stared, confused, at her. Hawke simply grabbed the fat man by the head. Her palm held his bold head as if she were holding a watermelon with one hand and pushing it. Everyone just stood there, watching the Triarch being thrown to the ground. The sound of his hips breaking was loud, as were his screams.
Malaquo's slave bodyguards just stood there, dumbstruck and oblivious of what to do. One of them simply tried to strike Hawke with his spear, but it didn't do anything. As the blade simply broke the moment, it touched Hawke's skin. They'll need something more potent than iron to hurt her. And they were starting to realize it.
"Wha-what are you doing?!" Malaquo screamed and started to shout in High Valyrian, which began to make sense to Hawke. The language was easy for her to understand. Yet, she focused on the fat man underneath her.
Hawke's fury about slavers was well known back on Thedas. She hated them. Loathed them. There wasn't a word to fully describe what she felt about them.
Hawke looked around and now could see that slaves were everywhere. A city filled with slaves.
Well, then, this is genuinely like Tevinter.
Hawke needed the power to do much back on Thedas. She could not do anything but make sure to help as many of them as she could. Fenris and her would take dangerous trips to the Tevinter Imperium and free small batches of slaves. But it was just pennies compared to how many slaves were in the empire that barely changed anything.
However, here, in this world. Hawke does have the power to do so. And she'll do it.
Hawke pointed her finger at the Triarch on the ground and hissed.
"You put people on chains and marked their bodies. Maybe, I should do the same to you."
Those were the last words, Malaquo heard before a loud thunder shaded everything. Hawke's feelings about slavery would soon be heard across Essos. And nothing would stop it.