Garth had called the Citadel his home for most of his life. He was a bastard of a nobleman from the Reach he barely remembered his mother, as his father had sent him to the Citadel to train to be a maester. The towering walls of the Citadel became his world, and he only knew of the outside world through books. His favourites were the writings of Lomas Longstrider, he had read them more times than he could count.
As he grew older, he made his decision to leave the Citadel and travel the world, just as Lomas did. When he became a full-fledged maester, he announced his decision to his peers. Many tried to dissuade him, warning him of the dangers of such a journey, but his mind was set. He had been preparing in secret for years, and he was determined to follow his dream.
He packed his meagre possessions and left the place he called home. The first steps out were liberating, but he also felt sadness, knowing he might not return. The world was full of danger, and anything could lead to his end, but he was determined to face them head-on.
Entry One: Familiar Comforts
The Reach, my homeland, welcomed me with open arms. The lush landscapes and friendly faces offered a comforting embrace. Familiar sights and sounds surrounded me, and for a moment, it felt like I was in the safety of home.
Entry Five: Relentless Heat
The transition to Dorne was marked by an unrelenting heat that I had never experienced before. It was a stark contrast to the cool, temperate climate of the Reach that I had always known. I almost ended my journey there.
Entry Twelve: King's Landing
King's Landing, as I saw it, was the melting pot for people from all regions of Westeros and beyond. However, the first impression that lingered in my mind was the overwhelming and unpleasant smell that permeated the city. Despite its grandeur as the seat of the king, the reality of the city was far from glamorous.
Entry Fifteen: The Mountain of Gold
Casterly Rock was an awe-inspiring sight. The sheer majesty of the rock spoke of the wealth and power of House Lannister. The lands of the current Hand of the King seemed too prosperous. I half-expected gold coins to rain down.
Entry Eighteen: Balerion's Wrath
Harren's Folly was truly a monstrous sight; the place felt wrong to be in. Note to self: avoid haunted castles in the future.
Entry Twenty: Sky High
Mountains seemed never-ending; the descent down the peaks has been treacherous. And then there's the charming mountain clans, just waiting to add a little spice to the journey. Here's hoping I can make it to Gulltown in one piece without acquiring any unexpected mountain friends.
Entry Thirty: Bastion Against the Cold
I never thought I would miss the heat of Dorne, but it seems the frigid North has me feeling nostalgic about the infernal heat. Winterfell, with its ancient towers and thick stone walls, stood as a bastion against the unforgiving cold. One of Brandon the Builder's many creations, his next destination is to his greatest.
Entry Thirty-Two: The Wall
Finally, my journey through the Seven Kingdoms had ended. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could prepare me for the colossal size of that thing. The books didn't do it justice. The structure spanned the entire northern border. I wonder if the builder was trying to compensate for something.
Entry Thirty-Five: The Titan
Sailing into Braavos, I couldn't help but marvel at the colossal Titan standing guard at the entrance, a silent sentinel welcoming all who approached.
Entry Forty-Five: Valyrian Roads
I have seen the famed Valyrian roads for the first time. It is as the books describe them to be. It was the first thing I rushed to see when I arrived in Norvos. If only the roads of Westeros were like this.
Entry Sixty: The fate of the Rhoynar
I felt a great melancholy as I sailed through the ruins of the Rhoynar cities. The air hung heavy with the weight of the past as the boat sailed through the eerie silence of the waterlogged ruins.
Entry Seventy-Five: Slavery
As my journey through Essos continues, the pervasive blight of slavery has become an undeniable and haunting reality. The Free Cities, despite their grandeur and prosperity, are stained by the dehumanizing institution.
Myr, the city fascinated me with its intricate lenses and mirrors, yet the gleaming surfaces masked the grim reality of the slave trade.
Lys enchanted me with its beauty, but that beauty concealed the ugly truth of a society built on the backs of the enslaved.
In Volantis, the city's prosperity seemed to rest on the suffering of the enslaved, their silent cries drowned out by the bustling commerce that surrounded them.
However, it was in Slaver's Bay that the brutality of slavery reached depths I deemed unimaginable. The cities of Yunkai and Astapor seemed to exhale an atmosphere of misery and desperation...
Garth closed the journal as the caravan leader decided to move once more. He was three days from Meereen, having left Yunkai as quickly as he had arrived. Essos had changed him greatly and he wished to move away from here as quickly as he could.
"Maybe Yi-Ti would cheer me up" he thought with a small smile.
The caravan made its way to the city through harsh and unforgiving terrain, rocky landscapes with jagged cliffs and large boulders scattered were everywhere. Thorny shrubs clung to life in the soil, their twisted branches casting long shadows. The distant horizon shimmered with heat.
His musings were cut short when they stopped.
"Why have we stopped?" he asked one of the caravan guards.
"The road has been blocked," he replied warily.
The caravan guards were on alert. "This is a good place for an ambush," he told me as he assumed a fighting stance.
A hushed silence fell upon them, broken only by the distant cawing of birds. The air became thick with tension as the guards exchanged wary glances. Without warning, a group of bandits emerged from their concealed positions among the jagged cliffs, descending upon the caravan like moths to a flame. The caravan guards swiftly formed a defensive line, their weapons at the ready, prepared for the impending onslaught. He, along with the other travelers, huddled around the caravan.
The clash of steel echoed through the cliffs as the guards valiantly fought. Sparks flew as steel met steel, but the bandits pushed ahead, and the guards fell one by one, their swords clattering to the ground. Realizing they had lost, the remaining guards surrendered.
The bandits started stripping them of their valuables, and to his horror, they began putting them in chains. It looked like he would never make it to his next destination; his journey was to end here. He considered the fate that awaited him a life of slavery, to be sold in some market to the highest bidder.
Then, he heard a sound in the distance. It was faint, and it seemed his captors had heard it as well. In the distance, he could see a man running towards him, flapping his hands, shouting, and yelling to get their attention.
"What is that madman doing?" he heard one of his fellow travelers say.
"He wishes to join us," another one said with a bitter smile.
One of the bandits rode towards the man. Garth wanted to yell back, telling him to run away, but no sound came from his mouth. But the man slowly came to a halt; he seemed to have realized what was happening. The man retreated towards the large rocks with the bandit following. It was only delaying the inevitable, he lamented. They would either kill him or capture him. A shameful part of him wished that he would be killed, slavery as he witnessed in his travels, was worse than death.