Doniphos II
2nd day of the third moon, 299 AC
Doniphos led his escort away from the temple atop his elephant, his mind still spinning from what he had seen. He had stayed at the temple the rest of the night, engrossed in Aurion's grand designs for the future. Aurion was undeniably ambitious, his visions for the city far-reaching. Despite Aurion being alone in the room with Doniphos and his guards, he never once seemed intimidated. Yet, even with his meticulous planning, Doniphos was unsure what to make of Aurion.
His tale was quite incredulous. The mysterious dragonlord who had declared himself an Emperor and disappeared, somehow resurrected four centuries after the fact. If it weren't for his dragon, Doniphos would not have believed it. Even then, Doniphos had doubts, so Aurion pulled apart the robes over his chest, exposing a terrible scar over his heart. No man could survive that wound.
Aurion claimed he had named himself Emperor to found order in the great chaos in the aftermath of the Doom, an attempt to unify the lands of Valyria. Had he not set out for the peninsula, Doniphos believed that he would have found far greater success than Volantis had. Strangely, Aurion had avoided all of Doniphos' inquiries about his expedition to Valyria.
Aurion had assured Doniphos that he had acquired plenty of wealth to aid his campaign for re-election, and he would have the support of those that followed R'hllor. And in return, he instructed Doniphos to arrange a grand melee at the Coliseum after the elections, filling the crowds with as many as possible, even the poor from the slums of Izulepsia. He also wished to have as many of the magisters of Volantis and her controlled cities attend, with all three Triarchs overseeing the festivities.
A public spectacle for him to introduce himself and claim the city with his dragon. All Doniphos had to do was encourage his co-rulers to submit. Aurion had planned to follow Doniphos' model to slowly phase out many of the outdated economic practices in employment that perpetuated slavery. "If you can free all your slaves and turn out wealthier and more efficient than before, then so can Volantis," Aurion asserted.
His host slowly approached the city once again, the morning sun rising over the horizon and gleaming over the Summer Sea. His escort of Unsullied entered the gates and passed through the West Gates district, eventually crossing the Long Bridge. The city seemed oddly subdued, its usual bustling energy dampened, and tiger cloaks patrolled the streets with diminished numbers. This time, he did not bother with all the theatrics and campaigning of before, his mind constantly returning to the golden dragon, Aegarax, as Aurion called him.
He passed the Great Plaza district, seeing the Temple of the Lord of Light, lacking Benerro's usual preaching. Was he preaching of Aurion these past weeks? How long had Benerro known of his return? The preaching of 'Azor Ahai' began with the red comet over a moon ago, but surely Aurion did not wait so long to move forth with his ambitions.
His host eventually approached the Black Walls, his eyes searching for the captain, Donio Ostos. He could not find him. Perhaps he was taking a break. "Lord Triarch Doniphos," Donio's replacement called out, signaling for the thick gates of the Black Walls to slowly rise.
Two unsullied marched ahead of his elephant. The ones bearing his empty palanquin slowly followed, and then came Doniphos. Once he had crossed past the shade beneath the Black Walls and could the sunlight of Old Volantis on his face, Doniphos heard a loud crash.
He immediately turned his head to see that the heavy black entrance abruptly crashed shut behind them, separating Doniphos from his retinue. Before he could react, a resounding horn blared, "What is-" he began before a thunderous snap filled the air, the unmistakable sound of a ballista being unleashed.
What treachery is this?!
His elephant suddenly reared back and roared its high-pitched trumpet. Doniphos frantically gripped the reigns as he was thrown back, only narrowly avoiding falling as the ropes burned into his palms. His elephant began storming forward, trampling the two Unsullied holding the palanquin. Powerless to stop the chaos unfolding around him, Doniphos watched in horror as the two Unsullied at the front of the entourage were showered with arrows, their lifeless bodies crashing to the ground.
His elephant was running away from the wall, to the Blackstone Barracks. Before even making it halfway, his elephant stumbled and collapsed forward, littered with ballista bolts. The force of the fall sent Doniphos forward, and he crashed against the hard concrete. He could hear orders from the wall as he tried to get himself to his feet, his arms giving away as he fell back down.
He lay there, writhing in pain from his shoulder as a host of legionnaires approached him, with their chainmail armor, wielding a gladius and a shield. Two legionnaires positioned themselves on either side of him, gripping his arms firmly as they dragged him through the eerily deserted streets, devoid of all life save for the numerous legionnaires. They eventually arrived at his manse, where no servants were there to receive him. Instead, it was more legionnaires and tiger cloaks that stood by as he was dragged to his bedchambers.
"Doniphos!" he heard Talisa cry out once the door was opened, and he was shoved in. He felt a small body slam into him, "Papa!" his son cried out.
"It's alright, Qavo," he muttered as he wrapped his left arm around his boy, "We will be fine."
While holding his son close, he edged closer to Talisa, who sat on their bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. Doniphos sought answers in her eyes, silently urging her to explain their dire circumstances.
"I don't know, Doniphos," Talisa stammered, her voice laced with fear. "They just came and forced us in here. They didn't kill anyone except the guards..." Her words trailed off, weighed down by the severity of the situation. Doniphos's heart sank. The Paenymion guards, unlike the faceless slaves that comprised much of the tiger cloaks, were all free men, many with families of their own.
Sitting there, looking out the window and seeing smoke in the distance, it hit him. Nyessos Vhassar. To meet Aurion, Doniphos had requested temporary control for two hundred of the tiger cloaks that worshipped the gods of Valyria.
He had been free to do so, as Nyessos had a job for the ones of the faith of R'hllor. But that would not have been anywhere near enough to seize the city like this. Somehow, Nyessos had control of what seemed like all three legions Volantis possessed.
They sat there for several hours, hearing distant shouting and screaming. Day turned to night, and hours turned to days, and Doniphos just saw more smoke and heard more screams beyond the Black Walls. He knew not what was happening, but he did his best to comfort his son and his pregnant wife.
Eventually, the door opened, and two legionnaires came in. They brought with them no food this time, instead grabbing Doniphos and dragging him out, slamming the door in front of Talisa and Qavo. They dragged him outside his manse, through the streets to Nyessos' manse. Nyessos Vhassar was standing on his balcony, tall and clad in ornate plate armor, his long silver-gold braids flowing behind him. Sheathed his back was an equally ornate sword with a golden hilt and a lion pommel.
"You like it, Doniphos?" Nyessos inquired, a wide grin stretching across his face as he unsheathed the greatsword. Yet, as Doniphos's gaze fell upon the weapon, the grandeur of the golden hilt paled in comparison to the blade itself—a long, gleaming blade of bright grey adorned with dark, folded lines. Valyrian steel. Authentic Valyrian steel.
"Archon for life, Doniphos," Nyessos declared, exuding an air of triumph. "Isn't it a wondrous thing? Control the city guard, pay off the right generals, kill the ones clinging to outdated traditions, and spare those who can assist me." He twirled the greatsword with a flourish, fixing his gaze upon Doniphos. "It would be splendid if my former co-rulers were to publicly relinquish their seats in my favor. If not... well, it would hardly be a significant loss."
He heard someone spit next to his left, and Doniphos turned to see that the old Malaquo Maegyr was being held next to Doniphos, shackled at his legs and arms. It seems they feared the toothless Tiger still had claws on him. They had no such fear of Doniphos.
"Fool!" Malaquo spat. "Triarch Horonno was beloved, and when he suspended elections, they tied him to two elephants and ripped him in half. I will joyfully watch what the masses do to you."
Nyessos chuckled, "Oh, Malaquo, I have something Horonno never had."
"And what is that?" Doniphos asked.
"A very generous friend, who sought out I! And why would he not? The richest, most powerful Triarch, now Archon! And I will bring Volantis back to its glory, better than you ever could, Malaquo!"
A generous friend? It couldn't be a coincidence. Not when Aurion had used the same phrase with Doniphos… it made sense, to confer with multiple parties within the city. Perhaps when Nyessos went on the pleasure boat a fortnight ago. But Aurion's offer indicated nothing of having Doniphos seize Volantis through such treachery, so why Nyessos?
He looked left to Malaquo, whose wrinkled face revealed nothing but a hint of confusion. So he was not contacted by Aurion.
"Renounce your titles, in the sight of the gods, and submit to me," Nyessos declared.
"Never!" Malaquo roared, pulling the guards with him as he lunged forward, "Thirty years, Nyessos! Thirty years you've stood in my path as I tried to make us an empire once more! And you have no shame, none at all?! Curse you. I shall see you in the underworld anyhow, so slit my throat and be done with it! I grow weary of your mad boastings."
Doniphos watched as Nyessos tilted his head contemplatively, though not ordering Malaquo's death.
"Ha!" Malaquo scoffed. "As I thought. You're a puppet. This is what Volantis has come to. Who is it? The Sealord of Braavos? You have no real power, Nyessos. Gold cannot buy power."
Nyessos scowled, and Doniphos was about to ask for Nyessos to elaborate on his 'friend' when he heard a roar in the distance. He had not heard Aegarax roar when he was with Aurion, yet he was certain this was the dragon. A silence fell over the legionnaires as each man looked to the sky. Coming from the south, casting a shadow over the city, was Aegarax. Rapidly getting closer with each beat of his wings.
"Gods…" he heard Malaquo mutter. He turned to face the old Tiger, and he would swear that he had never seen the old man express fear before, the lines etched on his weathered face betraying a concern rarely seen.
A few seconds passed before Nyessos looked up, a mad glint in his eye. He yelled down to the general of the second legion, Alios Qhaedar.
"Alios!" he shouted. "I want every ballista we have to aim for the rider of that dragon!"
Alios hesitated before he nodded, drawing the horn. He put it to his mouth and blew, a deep sound that signaled for the ballistae to launch their bolts. Doniphos watched the tiger cloaks on the Black Walls, who had just recently killed his own escort.
And watched as they did nothing.
"Alios!" Nyessos wailed, "Kill him!"
Alios blew the horn again, and when the ballista crew once again did nothing, even the legionnaires around Doniphos began muttering, backing away.
Aegarax was now clear in sight, and Doniphos felt his fear return as the dragon's golden scales shimmered in the light. He scrambled back with his arms, finding that the legionnaires holding him had done the same. The legionnaires holding Malaquo even pulled the man back, out of some sort of respect for the stern old man.
Nyessos must have disobeyed Aurion's instructions, believing Aurion would take care of the strife caused in his wake, and this was why he had hastened his plans. Aegarax dipped lower, opening his massive jaws, and at that moment, Doniphos truly believed it could swallow a leviathan whole. Nyessos looked behind him, in the labyrinthian halls of his manse, and then out. As light gathered in the dragon's maw, Nyessos leaped off the balcony, forty feet above the ground.
He was too late. His body was shrouded in golden flame, and so was his manse. Doniphos continued to scramble back, and the legion was in full retreat, but it kept getting hotter. It was as though his face was up to the hottest Qohorik furnace, and he had to close his eyes once the flames started turning from gold to an incandescent white.
The terrible sound of roars from above and screams from within the manse were all Doniphos could hear. After what felt like hours, the cries subsided. He opened his eyes and saw what little remained of the Vhassar manse. He had read how devastating dragonfire was, but it was entirely different seeing it with his own eyes. He read how Aegon Targaryen had melted Harrenhal, and the Vhassar manse had fared no better.
The pristine white stone, once an emblem of opulence and grandeur, was now a twisted mass of melted ruin, its foundations barely discernible beneath the rubble. The vast gardens were reduced to charred pits of dirt. The greatsword Nyessos was bearing clattered in front of the manse, the blade glowing red from the heat, though cooling by the second. One of the oldest manses in Volantis, certainly the largest, and it was utterly demolished in seconds.
It seemed many around him were gaping at the devastation the dragon had so easily wreaked. Doniphos heard a man yelp like a little girl, and many were broken out of their trances when their eyes landed on the gargantuan golden dragon behind them. Some fell on the ground as they lept back in terror. At the base of the dragon's neck sat whom Doniphos knew to be Aurion, holding onto two spikes sprouting from Aegarax. But his robes were gone, and in their place was deep black shimmering scale armor, magic glyphs folded in the gold-enameled steel. No– valyrian steel. On his head was a helmet with a radiant crown shaped like the sun atop his head, surrounding a gold-enameled valyrian steel face mask bearing an empty expression, eye sockets as black as obsidian, as though he were staring into the face of Morghul, the god of death himself.
Behind the dragon, Doniphos could see the gates of the Black Walls had been opened, and hundreds of the Fiery Hand trailed in, with two robed priests in front. Moqorro, the priest who had arranged for Doniphos to meet Aurion, and beside him shuffled the High Priest Benerro himself.
No one spoke for what felt like an eternity, every man silently praying to their respective gods, both R'hllor and the Valyrian pantheon. Many of the latter were praying to Morghul for a swift death, though Doniphos prayed to Shrykos, goddess of beginnings and ends, that Aurion could bring the change he had planned. Because Doniphos could see now, clear as day, this was the Dragonlord who had charged fearlessly into the Doom of Valyria.
The Fiery Hand came closer and stopped before Aurion. Doniphos looked around, and the legionnaires around him, so confident only minutes ago, had all bent the knee. Alios Qhaedar's men had left him kneeling alone, silently groveling for mercy. High Priest Benerro stepped forth.
"Servants of the Lord of Light!" Benerro called out, his voice carrying further than one would expect from his stature. He should not be in the Black Walls, Doniphos thought. None of the Fiery Hand were invited… unless this was another of Aurion's machinations. Perhaps in the days of Nyessos' reign over Volantis, Aurion had negotiated with the temple guards to aid him in securing Old Volantis.
"The time for deliverance has come! He is Azor Ahai returned! From smoke and salt, he was reborn to make the world anew, and his triumph over darkness will bring a summer that will never end! Death itself will bend its knee, and all those who die fighting in his cause shall be reborn-"
Aurion raised his hand, silencing the High Priest. After a few seconds of quiet, he reached up and took off his helm, resting it under his left arm. He shook his head briefly to release his hair, which had been pressed down under the weight of the helm. He looked impassively, first to Benerro, then Doniphos, Malaquo, and the smoldering ruins of Nyessos' manse behind them. He looked down at the kneeling legionnaires. They had seemed to relax after seeing it was a man beneath the mask, and not some specter of death here to claim them all.
"Citizens of Volantis," Aurion proclaimed, his voice causing many of the more distant men to lean closer, "Today, I have witnessed the chains of deception shatter before my eyes. Nyessos Vhassar, blinded by ambition, dared to betray the ideals upon which Volantis was built. He traded virtue for power, unity for chaos. He bathed this illustrious city in the blood of its own people, turned the wheels of power for his own selfish gains. Fate has brought me back to a city plagued by turmoil and corruption. But fear not, for I have delivered swift and decisive justice upon his doorstep, and he is now naught but ashes at our feet."
Aurion's piercing gaze swept across the assembled soldiers, capturing their attention, their fear slowly giving way to curiosity. "I stand before you, not as a conqueror, but as a guardian of Volantis and all her people. For my name is Aurion Varezys, and divine powers have brought me back from the ashes after four centuries of slumber. I have returned from Valyria, with a heavy heart and a burning purpose bestowed upon me."
His words carried an air of conviction, captivating the gathered soldiers, despite the lingering smoke and the still-smoldering destruction surrounding them. With each word, Aurion's presence grew more powerful, his voice resonating deep within the souls of all those who could hear. "Volantis deserves not leaders who will not cower behind walls, but one who soars above them, transcending the limitations of mortal men. Today marks the end of the four-hundred-year interregnum. I reclaim my duty as Emperor of Valyria, and with that title, I shall forge a new era of prosperity for this great city and her greater people."
A murmur swept through the assembled men as whispers of doubt and anticipation mingled. "I will restore peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new Empire, wielding these powers with wisdom and mercy." Aurion paused. "But know this. Those who stood by Nyessos Vhassar and his ilk shall be held accountable for their treachery. By my command, the lands, possessions, and shares of Nyessos Vhassar, and those who lent him your swords, shall be seized in the name of justice and restoration, distributed to those who aid in my duty. The houses of Qhaedar, Nefatis, Dhogaros, Votar, Isnardo, and all who helped Nyessos bring disorder to this city shall bear the weight of their treason. The age of complacency and decadence is dead, and from this moment forward, we shall forge a new Volantis that stands as a beacon of power and prosperity over Essos once more!"
Aurion drew a gleaming white sword and thrust it into the air. At that moment, his dragon's wings unfurled behind him, enveloping the surroundings in shadow, Doniphos could glimpse a future shrouded in fire and conquest. A future where Volantis would once again become a force to be reckoned with. First, it was Benerro's Fiery Hand, who rose their spears and cheered for Aurion. It was swiftly followed by a roar of approval that erupted from the rest of the legionnaires and tiger cloaks, the last of their fear disappearing and giving way to a newfound hope. Aurion's words had rekindled a flame within their hearts. Many had already betrayed their former traitorous commanders, Alios Qhaedar being held down and shackled before he could slip into the shadows.
Doniphos caught the violet eyes of Malaquo Maegyr. Once more, the Tiger could not be read. But there was no such restraint shown from the men, no hidden emotions. A deafening cheer reverberated through the city, the people embracing their newfound leader. In the wake of Nyessos' reign of terror, the dragon had awoken, and woe to all that opposed him.
