Tyrion sat on a bench in the garden of Tregar Ormollen, pondering upon the last days. While the sun was up, he visited Lys and the nearby villages, covering almost the entire island. At night, however, he was the toy of Lady Hightower, who took an unnatural interest in him. She would whisper in his ear that her sister was a fool not to marry him, as he is a god walking among men. He felt flattered by it and the experiences were far more than pleasurable but he couldn't help but fear that during one of those couplings his seed will eventually bear fruit and Lynesse would become pregnant. How ironic would it be: a dwarf to father a son or a daughter upon a Hightower! What kind of child would it be? A tall one with the face of a dwarf, or a small one with the face of a normal man? The thoughts frightened Tyrion. He wasn't ready to be a father and he didn't want to be a father, to further the cursed line of Tywin Lannister. Life was hard for a bastard. On the Lion, he befriended Jason Hill, one of the bastard sons of Lord Brax who said that there were times when he was a child that he wished he would fall on his own sword. Tyrion's dark thoughts were interrupted by his uncle, Gerion.

"What's the matter, nephew? You are bored already of fucking that Hightower woman?"

"That woman is mad. Luckily for us, we will leave tomorrow. I hope Volantis is less crazy than Lys."

"I wouldn't say that Lady Lynesse is mad. She is rather… complicated."

"Complicated? She sucks cock like she is eating grapes, with pleasure and desire."

"Maybe her carnal desires are just her way of coping with everything. Think about it, Tyrion: she married young, a man she deeply loved but whose life was too complicated and his culture too foreign for her to adapt. And then, they were exiled and now, she has to live with that old fart in order to keep the level of luxury she was accustomed with. I am not saying she is some kind of an angel but she is a victim, a victim of her own miserable life."

"Tsk, you should have become a septon."

"Faith is not for me, especially not in beings that I don't know if they exist."

"Well, isn't just that the purpose of faith? To make you believe in things that don't exist?"

"That's the bad kind of faith. There is a good type of faith too."

"And that is?"

"Well, it can't really be defined, but you will certainly feel it, the moment it would enter your heart."

"Yes… And, did you speak with Garon?"

"I spoke with him some time ago. Tomorrow, we will leave Lys and sail towards Volantis."

"Volantis… I am curious about that temple we spoke about on the ship. The one of the Lord of Light. Do you think we can visit it while in Volantis?"

"Of course. The temple is open to everyone. Why are you so curious?"

"Well, think about it. A religion whose priests are warriors as capable as Thoros of Myr… It is something interesting, no? And Thoros is a fat drunk. If a fat drunk can move like that and fight like he is possessed by Aemon the fucking Dragonknight himself, imagine how other, younger and fitter priests can be?"

"You're right. And not just their priests. The red priestesses also possess strange powers. Maesters think that they are some kind of parlor tricks, just illusions created by plants and queer infusions but I think it's something more. We will go there when we arrive."

"Thank you, uncle."

"You know, nephew, this journey is the best thing that happened to you."

"Why, because I killed an entire pirate crew with poison?"

"Well, you said it yourself, you had to do it. Otherwise… But that's not the point. The point is you really matured… for an Imp."

Tyrion smiled. He was happy his uncle acknowledged him but he didn't feel very proud of himself. He poisoned men on the ship, then he became the sexual toy of Lady Hightower. Certainly there was a change in him, but he wasn't sure if it is a change in good.

That evening, the entire household was present at the farewell feast in the honor of the Westerosi nobles. Tyrion, Gerion and Emmon were there with Tregar Ormollen, his wife, Lady Searra, their son and of course, the prince's concubines, the most prominent of them being Lynesse Hightower. Lady Searra was the only daughter of a Sealord of Braavos who wanted to secure an important trading contract between his city and Lys so he proposed to Tregar's father that their children should be united in matrimony. Like their counterparts from the Seven Kingdoms, the nobles from the Free Cities appreciated the value of a good arranged marriage. Tregar and Searra would have one son but their life together was miserable with her husband having, as many of the Lysene princes, an entire entourage of women, from all the corners of the known world, at his disposal. Seven of those could be considered as the most valued "guests" of prince Tregar: Dorrah was a young noblewoman from Qarth who was captured and sold into slavery by the Dothraki. Tregar bought her and freed her and she remained at his palace. Naira was an exotic presence hailing from the Basilisk Isles. A well-known courtesan and paramour who shared the bed of many important people, ranging from Braavosi Sealords and Volantene Triarchs to Summer Isles princes or Westerosi lords, Naira was intelligent and seductive. Nyrriana was from Lys and was considered one of the most beautiful women in the known world. Her great-grandmother was a daughter of Daemon Blackfyre and Nyrriana possessed strong Valyrian features such as deep purple eyes and blond, almost white, hair. Urrith was from Lorath and her greatest wish since childhood was to leave her bleak city and see the world. She worked as a whore in a Lysene pleasure house until Tregar found her and brought her to his manse. The fifth woman was Margret Toyne. A descendant of the exiled Westerosi House of Toyne, Margret was the youngest daughter of Milos Toyne, the brother of Myles Toyne, the captain of the Golden Company known as the Blackheart. Another woman in this panoply of beauties was probably the most mysterious. Her name was Melia and she claimed she was from Asshai. Tregar was very interested in her, as Asshai'i were mysterious people and the only ones he ever saw were merchants. The seventh, of course, was the sword enemy of Lady Searra, Lynesse Hightower. All of them were present at the feast, all of them looking incredible. Tyrion was mesmerized by those ladies, with whom he didn't have much opportunities to talk during his staying at Tregar's mansion. But his thoughts quickly changed as he started to focus on the journey ahead, to Volantis.

"So, you are sailing tomorrow towards Volantis, right?"

"Yes, prince Tregar."

"Well, I must say I am very sad to see you leave. You have been the best of guests for me this period of time. How long do you plan to stay there?"

Gerion answered:

"Not long, a few days, perhaps. Then… unto the Smoking Sea."

Those final two words sent shivers to Tregar's spine. Many sailors from Lys tried to reach Valyria and plunder the city of its riches only to disappear, never to be heard from them again.

"Pardon me for asking, Lord Gerion, but how do you even know that the Brightroar is in Valyria? Maybe it was lost in the sea or in one of the Free Cities the lion king visited."

Tyrion took over the conversation:

"Well, the legend says that Tommen Lannister's golden fleet reached Volantis and one of the Triarchs, a man named Marqelo, helped him with ships and men. So, he must have been in the possession of the sword at that moment."

"Indeed? I must congratulate you for knowing history so well, mine is quite rusty."

"It's not like you need much history to count money, isn't it, Prince Tregar?"

"That it is, Lord Tyrion. Let's drink, shall we? You must taste this Lysene wine, it's incredible!"

Tyrion drank from the golden cup in front of him. The taste of the wine was exquisite. One thing could be said about his stay at Tregar's manse, it wasn't without its share of delicious wines. The party continued and, around midnight, Tyrion decided to leave for his room while Gerion and Emmon continued to eat and drink. In his room, he started to feel a bit tired and, after a few more moments, he started to vomit.

What… is wrong with me?

He shook terribly, holding one hand on his abdomen and the other on his chest. The burning pain was tremendous and his consciousness started to fade.

Poison?

Of course, how could he be so stupid? Did he expect the proud prince Tregar to allow him to bed his most esteemed concubine without paying for it? Poison was the Lysene way to deal with such nuisances. Tyrion would die without seeing the Long Bridge of Volantis, the Smoking Sea and the ruins of Valyria. Such a shame… He opened his eyes and he saw only darkness and he could hear only a tiny voice singing. Was he in some sort of heaven? But heaven wouldn't be dark. Is he now blind? That would be worse than being dead. The Blind Imp. It sounded awful. However, the darkness would soon dissipate and in front of him, a city would unfold, with tall buildings and towers.

Am I hallucinating?

He could only distinguish one building, one large castle that stood high above all the other homes and shops in the city, one he was very familiar to.

The Red Keep… This is King's Landing?

Darkness again. Why did he see King's Landing? But this darkness… He wanted to see the capital of Westeros again. As shitty a city it was, it was far better than seeing black. Tyrion almost begged for another light, and that light would come.

He saw a golden lion, proud and strong, holding a sword in his mouth with thousands of people bowing and kneeling before it, sitting on a hill. Tyrion looked into the valley. Another city, even larger than King's Landing, appeared in front of him, but he couldn't say which one. One thing was certain: it wasn't a Westerosi city. Golden towers, large walls and tranquil gardens adorned the city and Tyrion was at peace.

So, this is it… This is heaven, I guess? I am a lion and people love me and I rule an entire city? Far better than I deserve.

Darkness again. Why does it have to be darkness? Tyrion wanted to be lion again and to rule again but something else would unfold right before his eyes, something bright, red, hot but… pleasant, in some way.

Fire? This is fire?

He tried to fight it, to get away from fire, but instead of going further from it, he got closer.

So, it's hell... Well, I guess I deserve it, after I killed those men.

It wasn't hell, but it wasn't heaven either. The voice he heard earlier finally had a face, a pale, blue eyed face. Tyrion awoken. He was in bed, in Tregar's manse and that face loomed above him, singing in an unknown language that sounded a bit like Valyrian but it wasn't really Valyrian. The imp recognized the woman, one of Tregar's concubines.

"Ugh… Who…?"

She continued to sing and, after taking out a knife, she stabbed herself in the palm of her hand. Her blood dripped on his abdomen and Tyrion was too powerless to stop it. Finally, she was starting to speak in the common tongue:

"Lord, cast your light above me and give me strength. The night is dark and full of terror and I seek to bring a pure heart back into the light. For he is your child and I am your loyal servant. A child for another child!"

Saying this, she took again her knife and stabbed herself again, this time in the belly. Tyrion watched horrified while she bled but, surprisingly, she didn't flinch one bit.

"Lord, cast your light above me and give me strength. You are the beacon that enlightens the hearts of men in the long night and I beg you, restore the flame of this dying child."

Suddenly, Tyrion vomited again, this time a black, foul bile. He suddenly felt warm inside and he was hungry. The woman who saved him fell on a chair nearby, gasping.

"You are lady…Melia… Why?"

"I am a servant of the Lord of Light, Tyrion Lannister. The one true God knows the destiny of each man in the world and each of us have our parts to play in the wars to come."

"The wars to come? What…?"

"The Lord deemed you worthy of his protection, Tyrion Lannister. A day will come when you have to repay his unending kindness. You must reach your destination. There, you must choose."

"Choose… what?"

"You will know at the right moment. You will never see me again."

The Asshai'i woman left the room and Tyrion remained speechless. He should have died, but that woman did… something to save him? Why? He got down from the bed and walked outside the room. A servant woman appeared in front of Tyrion.

"Do you speak the common tongue?"

"A bit, my lord!"

"Where is Lady Melia?"

"I don't know any lady Melia."

"What? She is one of Prince Tregar's women?"

"I am afraid you are mistaken, my lord. I am a… servant for the Prince's ladies but there isn't a Melia their midst."

"Oh… fine…"

Tyrion was shocked. What happened? For the entirety of the time he spent at Tregar's palace, they were seven, the Prince's paramours. But now, they are six? What happened? A man's voice was heard by Tyrion:

"Nephew, what are you doing? We will leave soon, or would you want to stay here in Lys while we sail to Valyria?"

"No… Gerion, tell me, did you know a Lady Melia, from Asshai? Is one of Tregar's women."

"Now I know why you left the banquet so early last night. You came here to fuck one of Tregar's wenches, right? But no, I don't know any of them to be from Asshai."

"Blue eyes, black hair, prays to the Lord of Light?"

"No, nephew. There isn't such a woman here."

"Uncle, she was here every day, you even talked with her a few times!"

"I don't know what you drank last night but certainly it didn't do any good to your health, Tyrion. All the days I've been here, I didn't see such a woman."

"Forget about it, let's go."

The Lannisters were ready to embark the Laughing Lion.

"It saddens me to see such great guests leaving. Maybe on your journey back, you shall visit me again."

"Of course, prince Tregar."

Tyrion frowned at the merchant prince while Lynesse Hightower smiled seductively.

"Goodbye, my lords and good fortune in your travels."

"We thank you!"

The Lion exited the Lysene port. Captain Flowers and his men were ready and happy, singing a few shanties. Emmon Frey brought up the map to the cabin where Gerion and Tyrion were drinking.

"Now, we won't stop until we reach Volantis. I don't think that we will be as well received there as we were in Lys but we wouldn't stay too long, two-three days at most."

If by "well received" Emmon meant to say "poisoned", Tyrion was glad that the Volantene wouldn't treat them well. He didn't tell his uncles what happened with him because he considered they wouldn't believe him. A few hours later, Lys was only a tiny spot behind the Lion and Tyrion started to ponder at the words of the woman who saved him.

What choice would I make?