The crew of the Lion named the island where Gerion Lannister and Rodrik Flowers lost their lives the Isle of Ashes. Emmon Frey, now the new expedition leader, stood on the bed of his cabin, thinking. He cried, now he stopped. He was afraid for his life, as he imagined that if Gerion, which was one of the finest warriors of his time, could be killed so easily, he wouldn't stand a chance. Also, he regretted Rodrik Flowers' death too. Emmon remembered how the bastard won a tourney at the Twins, defeating several Freys in the lists and eventually unhorsing Barristan Selmy himself in the final. Such a strong warrior yet mauled to death by a tiger. Tyrion entered his remaining uncle's cabin:

"Emm, are you asleep?"

"No, nephew, I'm… I was just thinking."

"About what happened?"

"Yes… And I was thinking about home. I really want to see Genna and my sons again, you know? Even though I was terribly unhappy there, they are my family. They are part of my life, part of me. I just don't want to die here. I want to go home, to see them one more time."

"I know… I'm sorry I dragged you into this. It was me that convinced you to join us."

"I don't regret anything, Tyrion. I am glad that I joined you and Gerion but I can't help it… I want to be alive after this."

"So do I, Emm…"

"So, your uncle and Ser Rodrik will be returned to Westeros if we manage to return, of course. They are currently stored into rum caskets with a mixture created by one of the Volantene crew members. He said that they would be perfectly preserved for at least three months before… you know…"

"Decaying. Say it as it is. I don't know if we'll manage to return home in three months… It's been almost a year since we left and we still need to reach Valyria…"

"Damned sword. So many sacrifices for that piece of metal. You know, after I ended the lives of those mutineers in Volantis, I thought I did the right thing. But know, seeing Gerion who was younger, stronger and healthier than me dying… makes me wonder if that isn't my punishment for killing those men. To see everyone I care about dying before fate ends me too."

"I carry the same burden you carry, Emm. When that… animal attacked us, Gerion and Rodrik protected me with their lives, even though I am a murderer. He told the red priestess to defend me and she shielded me until… they…"

Tyrion's heart was broken that he had to lie to Emmon but if his uncle knew Gerion died a hero, it would be easier for him.

"It's alright, nephew. Nobody is accusing you of anything. We all know this could be a one-way trip. Come here!"

Emmon hugged Tyrion. The dwarf needed that, a reassurance that everything will be fine even though he knew that this was false. After a few more moments spent with him, Tyrion went straight for Aerea's cabin.

"May I come in?"

"Sure, Tyrion!"

"Lady Shiera, I wanted to talk to you."

"Of course, but close the door. I don't want anyone to hear you calling me Shiera."

Tyrion closed the door and approached the sorceress.

"I have several questions for you, if you would be so kind to answer."

"Of course, ask away!"

Tyrion sat on a chair, near Aegon the Fourth's daughter. It was incredibly strange for him to speak with someone that lived more than one hundred years ago yet looks like twenty or so. Shiera modify her glamour so that only Tyrion may see her like she really was. For the others on the Lion, she was Aerea, priestess of R'hllor.

"How was life during your… youth? Past?"

"Well, I suppose a word for it doesn't exist, isn't it, Tyrion? What do you wish to know?"

"Everything… I… I read many books about the Targaryens… The Dance of Dragons, the Blackfyre Rebellions…"

"Seems you developed quite the obsession with those with dragon blood in their veins. Well in order to understand how our lives were back then, you must know my origin first. My mother was a noblewoman from Lys, Lady Serenei, considered one of the most beautiful women in the world. Her family was one of the oldest Valyrian houses in the city but because of the large amount of money they owed to the Iron Bank of Braavos, they became poor. Nobody in the Free Cities wished to help them so my mother's father wrote a letter to the King of Westeros: in exchange for the money to pay the debt to the Iron Bank, he would donate every arcane tome that existed in the family library to the Citadel of Oldtown and he would give his daughter to be married to Aegon's grandson, prince Baelor, when he would come of age. Aegon was intrigued so he sent his Hand at that time, Jon Hightower, to Lys in order to negotiate. He took the tomes and my mother to Westeros and gave my grandfather five hundred thousand gold dragons to pay his debts. However, when the Hand and my mother arrived to King's Landing, Aegon broke his promise to marry her to prince Baelor. Instead, he took her in his own bed, as his lover. Serenei impressed the courtiers of the Red Keep with her beauty and intelligence but she was also cold and arrogant. At least, that's what the others told me. I never met her as she died giving birth to me."

Tyrion always sympathized with those who lost their mothers at birth. His mother, Lady Joanna, died giving birth to him and his father would always hate him for this. He continued to listen to Shiera's story:

"I was born in the 180th year since Aegon's Landing. When my father died four years later, my trueborn half-brother Daeron, who was named by the men The Good became king and summoned all the other Great Bastards to the court. It was the moment I would meet the two most important men in my life… Aegor and Brynden, the Bittersteel and the Bloodraven. Aegor was twelve and Brynden was nine and even then, even as children, they hated each other. I remember when I was fourteen, I summoned both of them to my chambers and told them that I would give my maidenhead to the one who would bring me the most beautiful gift."

"You did this?"

"I was a foolish girl then… Convinced that I could get whatever I want just by spreading my legs… Aegor rode north while Brynden rode south. I knew nothing of them for three months until they both returned the same day to King's Landing, each bearing gifts."

"What did they bring to you?"

"Aegor brought me this necklace…"

Shiera pointed to her sapphires and emeralds necklace, a one of a kind piece of jewelry.

"…while Brynden went to the Citadel and bought back all of mother's spell books."

"So, who did you chose to… deflower you?"

"I chose Brynden… The necklace was beautiful but… Brynden brought me something else, something more valuable that a pretty jewel…"

"What?"

"Independence, Tyrion."

"Independence?"

"With my mother's books, I learned a great deal of things: foreign languages, arcane secrets, cures for diseases, even a way to bend others to my will… Until I had those books, I was Lady Shiera, the pretty bastard of the late king but then, after I learned their secrets, I became Shiera Seastar, the sorcerer, the harlot who plays with men like a child plays with his wooden soldiers, the abominable witch that made the most powerful lords of Westeros forsake their holy matrimonial vows and spurn their wives just to touch her once. With Brynden's help, I obtained power."

Tyrion was speechless.

"Of course, originally, I felt just gratitude for him, soon after, that gratitude turned into love… He was smart, he was passionate. Of course, he had to create his A thousand eyes and one persona but with me… he could be his true self. For the others in the Seven Kingdoms, he was the Bloodraven, the bastard kinslayer who ruled with spies and sorcery but for me, he was Brynden… my brother, my lover, my confidante. The only man that ever understood me, even though I cheated on him almost every day. He understood when I fucked that young Uller Kingsguard, he understood when I fucked the Red Keep's master-at-arms and he also understood when I fucked that lowborn fisherman and his daughters too. I was wild back then."

Tyrion smiled. Wild is a gross understatement. He had his share of wild women in his life but to talk with probably the woman with the greatest sexual appetite in the history of the known world… It was too much. Yet, he couldn't help but be drawn to her. For a moment, he forgot his uncle was dead.

"And… what made you go to Volantis and become a priestess?"

"Tell me, Lord Tyrion. What happens when even the most beautiful woman in the world loses everything in her life that she held dear? In the 223rd year since Aegon's landing, our… beloved nephew Maekar died and his son Aegon would become king in his stead. He was made king because of my brother's intervention in that council. Then, to secure Aegon's claim, Brynden killed that damned Blackfyre whelp and what did Aegon do? He imprisoned him! Called him a traitor and a man without honor. For protecting his king! And then… Brynden was sent to the Wall and I decided to leave Westeros… I was 53 at that time, my beauty started to leave me… I felt lost without Brynden… I sailed to Lys and I found my mother's ancestral home in ruins, abandoned for years. I decided to become a whore."

"What? Lady Shiera…"

"Yes. Who wouldn't want to fuck the daughter of a king, even an old one? Men from the Seven Kingdoms, from Essos, Dothraki, even hairy men from Ibben… I took all of them to my bed. I took a new name and I became famous across the world. But it gave me nothing… They weren't Brynden… So, I close the brothel and went straight to Volantis, hoping that a perverted Triarch would take me as one of his many concubines. But there, something else happened. I discovered something that changed my perception about life and about this world we live in. It was 242, I think… Oh, those maesters surely have strange measurements of time."

Tyrion frowned. The year 242 was the year his father Tywin was born. It was incredible for him to talk with someone who by the time Tywin was just a newborn babe, was already 62.

"And what was your… new name?"

"Irogenia."

"What?"

Tyrion couldn't believe it. Irogenia of Lys was probably the most famous courtesan in the history of the world. She was described as being young and full of life yet Shiera claimed she was in her sixties when she was Irogenia.

"Irogenia was simply everything a man wished for. It was magic. A man entered her house of pleasure and respite and there, he got what he wished for. If he wanted a young maid, Irogenia would be a young maid for them. If he wanted a fat old crone, Irogenia would be a fat old crone."

"So, you used magic to appear exactly like a man's greatest desire?"

"Maybe…"

"So… you said something happened in 242. What happened?"

"In 242, I received a letter from Brynden. He became Lord Commander of the Night's Watch in '39 and went in a ranging beyond the Wall that lasted almost a year. He told me that something evil was there that would eventually bring an end to all. If it were a letter from another, I would have burned it and call the man a fool and insane. But I knew Brynden. I knew how much he valued peace and balance. I had to help him. Finally, I had a purpose. Brynden instructed me to infiltrate the Temple of R'hllor in Volantis, in order to learn their secrets, especially those involving resurrection of the dead and the manipulation of souls. So, I created the persona of Aerea, an old crone from Braavos who had a vision of the Lord of Light that directed her to Volantis. I was quickly accepted as a novice and, after three years with them, I finally became a priestess. But then, the High Priest of the time, a man named Alarro Red-Mane, called me to his office in the northernmost tower of the Temple and asked me bluntly: Are you Shiera Seastar? I froze. I thought he would kill me but he said: I know why you are here. You are here to fight evil. To fight the minions of the Great Other. So, I give you this gift."

"What gift?"

"My youth… He gave me my youth. A body untouched by want, by need, by disease… by death… I was Shiera Seastar once again but, at the same time, I wasn't. I was now Aerea. Giving me those powers, the Red-Mane died. Since then, I travelled all across Essos hoping that I would find a way to stop that threat Brynden spoke of. When I heard he disappeared, I thought my world ended but he contacted me somehow, told me that he had to take the fight directly to the source of evil… We speak frequently, though not as often as I would like."

"How?"

"There is power in king's blood, like there is power in First Men blood. My brother has both, though my blood is more of a… purer Valyrian nature."

If someone would have told Tyrion he would take part to such discussions, he would have called that man mad and a fool. But now, the young Lannister is speaking to one of the most famous Targaryen in the history. The thought she would share her knowledge with him enticed him tremendously.

"So… now what?"

"We sail forward. We will reach Valyria soon."

After a few more minutes of discussion, one of the crewmen of the Lion who was in the crow's nest at the time started to shout:

"Land ahoy!"

Tyrion and Aerea left the cabin and went straight for the upper deck, so was Emmon Frey and captain Flowers. Tyrion took his late uncle's far-eye and looked forward. Even though the mist was thick, he was able to spot something... towers, enourmous towers, ruined by fire, black as night yet so visible! Tyrion was unable to utter but one word:

"Valyria..."