Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next three chapters after this chapter are available on P^A^T^R^E^O^N / Boombox117
109 AC, Port Corinth
Gael POV
She could hear the discontentedness even this far away as she walked towards the twin set of doors of the room deep in the cargo-hold and she began to walk a little faster.
The guards opened the twin set of doors for her and over a hundred head swivelled towards her, the discontented noises dying down as they saw her.
She had them kept in the port, at least until she could speak with them.
Already, when she rode through the town, news had filtered that Lady Dawn and Discovery had returned and her own riding with haste did not quell the waggling tongues. Whatever news her people had brought over, she needed to make sure that it would not get to their enemies or at the very least delay it as much as possible.
Whilst Corinth was secluded and protected, it was still visited by people who often came from Lotus Port. Only a few, for only a few were willing to make that journey, but still that was plenty enough. Not only that, she didn't want the Summer Islander villagers to know either.
Which was why she had Ser Cedrick sent home anyone not of Corinth and closed the gates of their town. Truthfully, she wasn't sure when they'd reopen, and if their hopes had come true, then mayhaps they may not be opened until Aegon was back.
"My Princess" rang around as Captains Bryce and Locke went down on their knee and bowed their heads to her, which the other men followed in suit, and she smiled at them as she gestured them to stand up.
"Men of Corinth" Gael began, her expression sincere and kind as she studied their faces. They looked tired but they looked in good condition still.
"I would like to say, firstly, I am relieved to see you all return healthy and hale." Gael told them with genuine sentiment behind her voice and she let it show on her expression. Truly, she was happy to see her people return safely and whole.
Her words seemed to make the men more at ease, happier and her smile turned a little gentler as she spoke "Your journey has been difficult, I can see that on your faces, and our people owe you gratitude and more and you will be rewarded for your service. I will admit" Gael said with a pause as she looked at them with a hint of sadness. "I was beginning to lose faith that we had lost you."
"Aye, my Princess. A few times, we certainly thought we would be lost too." Captain Bryce said with a chuckle in his voice and a few of the men chuckled also whilst a few others agreed with ayes and yesses.
"But the Seven watched over us and saw to it that we came to find the lands they showed our Prince!" Captain Bryce said happily and just like that, a switch happened and the men were raucous in their celebrations.
And so were the guards that had been in the room and the guards that escorted her in. As for Gael…
She felt a weight she never thought she was carrying release from her body. She'd heard the rumours when she rode in, from the guards, that they did find land but hearing it? It was everything. Absolutely everything. And…she felt relief, sheer relief, that finally…finally, they could truly start to build their lives.
'My love…you should be here to hear this first' Gael thought to herself.
Gael raised her hand and the guards assisted in quieting the room down.
"Truly? You have found it?"
Captain Bryce lost the cheeriness and nodded seriously "Aye, my Princess." Captain Bryce looked around, towards the men, and she noticed his gaze lingered on some of them, one of them being…was it Edmyn? She noted it away as she refocused on Bryce when he spoke once more.
"It is good…no, it is great land. Kaldren says that the soil should take easily to our crops. Land's huge too. And there are islands that are as good as the mainland."
She continued to listen as Captain Bryce continued to describe the land, some of the other men interjecting and telling her their own observations and she realised she'd been listening to them speak for some time.
She stopped them and her expression fell slightly as seriousness crept in.
"We will have time to discuss your incredible findings, good Sers." Gael said before she paused slightly as she glanced at the guards and then back at the men.
"I am sure you have heard of our people going to war with the Basilisk Isles?"
Grumblings and confirmation rang around to her question.
She nodded serenely "We have many enemies, good Sers. Enemies who would see us harmed and our people killed" she said to them with a sobering note in her voice and the men looked disquieted by her words.
She moved to set them at ease. "My husband and our people will prevail over the enemies in the Basilisk Isles, of that, there is little doubt. However" Gael looked to them all. "They are not the only enemy. And that is why we must be careful that we do not let this land, a treasure that the slaver cities would love to take for themselves"
The noise rose and Gael raised her hand once more and quieted them down.
"I know." Gael said to them with a kind smile "It is not their land…it is ours and we must all do our part to keep it that way and that is why I must ask you to swear to secrecy to not disclose where these lands are and not to leave Corinth."
"My Princess, you think we would betray you?" Captain Locke asked with indignant shock and it was a shock that was mirrored by most.
"No." Gael said firmly as she shook her head before she looked them and met their eyes. "I do not believe for a moment you would betray our people nor do I believe you would betray House Targaryen" at that, there was some looks of confusion and she understood.
"Then why am I asking for this? Because of our enemies." Gael told them and it was true as well. "Many of you wish to tell your families, do you not?" she posed to them and she could see the truth of it.
"I understand." Gael said with a kind look on her face. "You wish to tell them of your great achievement that has never been achieved before. You wish to tell them of the lands you saw, the seas you braved. I understand, good Sers, and I am not taking that from you." Gael shook her head.
"All I am asking of you is to not share any details of what you have found until my husband and our people have returned from the war." Gael looked to them again.
"Think of it. Think of how excited you were to find our new land. Then think of how the rest of our people will feel." Gael paused for a moment as she looked to them and she saw that they were beginning to understand.
"Our enemies would not find it difficult to learn at that point of the location and the land itself." Gael told them.
"They could not sail the seas in their ships to get to our land, my Princess." One of the men said and there was agreement.
"Mayhaps. But it is not impossible, I imagine, to be able to get there in a carrack?"
Everyone looked to the captains who exchanged a look "It is not impossible but they would most certainly lose two or three in five if they tried. Four in five without our compasses and without the guide of our findings of the trade winds."
"And do you think the slaver cities would care? When they see lives as cheap? And should they get a hold of you out at sea in some great misfortune, would they not learn that it could be possible?"
At that, Gael could see that they were accepting of the need of secrecy, and she remained there for a little while whilst she extracted the oaths of secrecy from them.
She knew that she could not rely on them keeping their oaths, for words were wind most oft, but the prospect of losing out on their rewards and the pressure that would come from keeping silent when all others were, especially before her, their Princess and wife of their liege lord, would give them pause in loosening their tongue.
Besides, she'd also make sure that none of the men would get to leave Corinth until Aegon returned.
She'd noted a few who were reluctant in giving the oaths and she'd have them especially watched amongst them all. She did not like distrusting her own people, especially people whom had done her family and their people such a great service, but Aegon's cautiousness and cynicism had rubbed off of on her.
And when matters to securing her children's inheritance, and that of her people, she would not shirk away from doing and saying what was necessary.
She told the men that they could tell their families they found the land the Prince had been blessed visions of, though not where it was located nor the journey that it took to get there. She could not expect them to keep the secret wholly, not for moons, not from their families but she expected anything more to be kept secret.
She'd press the point further later this day to address the townsfolk to ensure that the people do not speak of the land with any outsiders. It may be moons or worse longer before Aegon and their people returned.
"Ser Uthrik." Gael called as they watched the men walk towards the town, to their wives and their families, the merriment of their voices travelling through the air.
"Yes, my Princess?" the ever-dutiful Ser Uthrik responded and she turned to the four and twenty nameday old man. He was of brown of hair and brown of eyes, with skin that was sun-beaten with features that made it difficult to say where his origins may lie.
He could as easily seem to be from Pentos as he could in sunnier parts of the Reach, and it was that ambiguity that made him someone best suited for the work Aegon needed him for.
Clever as a fox, born out of the need to survive in Kings Landing as a boy not yet grown a man when his parents had died on the road at the hands of bandits, he was a man had learnt to walk in between the lines of society.
Aegon had learnt of Uthrik not long after they'd married, after the bandits who'd killed his parents had been sent to the Wall, each with one hand, and had decided to take Uthrik into their household as a squire to one of their knights.
It hadn't taken them long to know the value of Uthrik who was raised as well as a son of a noble, having been a son of a wealthy merchant, and it was to their fortune that a man like Uthrik was one of the truest men she'd come to know.
"I will have to delay your return to Westeros" she told the man with a dour note to her voice. It was a decision she was not making lightly but the needs here were greater.
The reports that Uthrik had provided her of the status of their family in Kings Landing and in the Vale was deeply concerning to Gael and she knew it would be to Aegon too.
The surprising news of Viserys' firstborn son made it clear that they needed to change the way information flowed back to them. The long distance between the Summer Isles and the affairs of the Realm did not help matters, of course, but for them to only know the birth of Viserys' son so long after was not good enough.
Much of their information gathering of the Realm over the years was far more passive than it was in Lys or Volantis, where they were actively working in their own interests, whereas in the Realm, much of their efforts being largely concentrated towards Oldtown and securing their foundations within Kings Landing and simply keeping track of the players in the capital.
That would change when Uthrik returned to Kings Landing.
The Hightower hold in Kings Landing was growing ever so more with each day Otto Hightower remained as Hand. Viserys' steward, an Aelon Malys, a son of lesser nobility of Claw Isle, had died in 107 AC to summer fever and in his stead, a lesser noble from the Reach was chosen as Viserys' steward of his household.
Similarly, other lesser yet ignorable appointments were made to the Red Keep and in Kings Landing, from the bailiffs to the Lord confessors, slowly filling Kings Landing with men of twinned loyalties.
It bore signs that Viserys' authority, and House Targaryen's authority, was slowly being eaten away.
Uthrik would be there in Kings Landing with Selyse, and find out more about what is happening with Viserys. Viserys often threw tourneys every few years, some more extravagant than others if they coincided with a nameday or some such, and Uthrik would partake in these tourneys and learn more from the nobility that would attend.
As much as the commonfolk knew of the affairs of the nobility, it was not enough nor it was wholly credible. By obtaining credible sources amongst Viserys' court and that of the nobility closest to either the Hightowers or the nobles on the small council, they'd come to understand the situation around Viserys better.
Though…this want of hers to understand was more to quell her fears that Viserys was not as blind as he seemed to be.
"I understand, my Princess, and I agree." Uthrik said with a little smile, one that was lost moments later "There won't be a moment where the men will lose sight of them"
Gael smiled at Uthrik before she looked away from him. Whilst they'd control the coming and goings into Corinth, the farmers would still need to get to the fields and plantations whilst the Port would need its harbourmen and its shipbuilders.
Speaking of the Port…she'd need to speak with Banneth Stally, the master of Ships, and see what the status of their stores of hardwoods and copper, which was used to sheathe the bottoms of the galleon ship type.
From what the men said, getting to these new lands in anything less than the galleons was placing one's entire fate in the hands of the Seven, and she knew that they'd need to build many more of the ship type.
One ship could carry, safely, over fifty and two hundred, though a minimum of a fourth to a fifth of the people needed to man the ship. To get all of their people there…it would take far too long with their current fleet of galleons.
She winced as she thought of the cost necessary to build so many ships and the labour they'd need. She shook her head. She would not think of it today, not when there were more immediate issues to deal with as her mind returned to ensuring security.
She thought it would be achievable for some of the men of Lady Dawn and Discovery to make their escape from Corinth unless their movements were tracked. She could not see a reason why they would though, for the honour, prestige and the lands the men would receive from their own people would not be found elsewhere.
"I hope it is an unnecessary undertaking." Gael said softly.
"As do I, my Princess, but better to have wasted effort than live to regret not having provided the effort it may have needed." Uthrik said kindly.
Gael inclined her head slightly. "I can agree to that, Ser Uthrik."
Later on, when she returned to the town, passing through the before closed gate that closed once more after she was through, she paused when Ser Cedrick made his way to her. "My Princess" Cedrick bowed to her and Gael bid him to rise and speak.
"We've secured the town and visitors have all gone."
"Well done, Ser Cedrick. It is a worry off of my shoulders." Gael told him before she eyed him curiously. She noted that there was more he wanted to so. "Speak, Ser Cedrick. You have worries you wish to tell me."
"People are asking questions." Cedrick said respectively but it was clear what he was trying to say. She smiled at him.
"As expected." Gael said to him. By now, the sailors had returned and were with their families. The rest of the townsfolk were dying to know what they had found.
She added "tell the townsfolk to gather in the central square. I will address them." To not address the issue at hand would have only caused problems later and this way, she could ask them to keep discretion, in a similar way she'd asked the sailors.
Ser Cedrick nodded and bowed to her before he walked away in a rush and Gael sighed slightly. 'Return soon, my love. We need you here.' Gael thought to herself before she steeled herself and prepared the words she'd need to say to the people.
-Break-
109 AC – Lys
Johanna Swann POV
Johanna sat back in her seat as she eyed the informant keenly. "So they brought the skull of Saathos Saan to the conclave meeting?"
A ship of Corinth had arrived a day or so ago so she'd known the success of the war against the pirate King within the hour and it hadn't been difficult to understand the meaning of bringing the skull of a traitor to Lys back to Lys.
What she didn't quite know was how they'd react to it.
The conclave was not a monolith of agreement.
There were interests and counter-interests and those who simply deigned be difficult because they didn't like one other for some personal slight or familial grudge.
Divisive, difficult and treacherous.
And whilst she hadn't been a pleasure slave during the time of the treason, the tale of Saathos Saan and his betrayal was very well known and very much a collective sore point amongst the nobility and even the freedmen.
"They did." Her informant confirmed.
Her informant was a freedman who worked in the Conclave Assembly, the building from which the conclave ruled and where most of the political power, outside of ballrooms and feasts, was practiced.
He was her in-between with some of the slaves that served the conclave members drinks and food, who she'd managed to turn over six moons ago once her business with the Lorys family had come to an end, when she'd pulled out their teeth.
Figuratively. For now.
"What were their reactions?" Johanna asked intently and Ritte beside her shuffled ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but enough, and Johanna knew that Ritte was also interested in their reactions.
"Some were pleased, others…not." Her informant told her before adding the names of the conclave members who were pleased and those who were not, at least according to the servant. A few names were surprising and she let the man continue as he spoke of the rest what the servant had relayed back to her informant.
After her informant finished with all that he was told, she let him leave with a bag of gold and remained with Ritte, digesting all that she heard.
It was clear that no one was unhappy to see Saathos Saan dead.
The man had been a cause of embarrassment for Lys since he'd taken over fifty warships and thousands of men with him when he defected.
Significant gold was lost with the loss of the ships and the soldiers themselves, more than half having been slave soldiers, and it had been a blow to the prestige of Lys.
So all in all, Johanna believed that they were silently cheering at the man's demise.
Still…
It doesn't change the fact that the situation was rather…awkward for the conclave.
Saathos Saan had reached an agreement with the Triarchy, at the insistence of Myr and the indifference of Tyrosh, to which Lys had been pressured to agree on with great annoyance and as such, the act of killing Saathos Saan was not one that the Triarchy as a whole should be pleased about.
And so…
Lys was in a bind.
Johanna imagined news of the death of Saathos Saan, the traitor to Lys, would spread and the freemen and many of the nobility would be pleased to hear about that news.
Should Myr demand further action against Prince Aegon, such news would be unwelcome by many and mayhaps even cause unrest amongst some of the families.
Making an unnecessary enemy at this stage was not desired at all, especially one that more beneficial as, at the very least, a neutral trading partner.
The Mopanar family would be one of those families, who are Prince Aegon's biggest supporter…in a certain way.
Granted, her informant had said that the conclave thought such a demand from Myr is unlikely to come, especially since none of them wanted another dragonlord to join into the war of the Stepstones, which was becoming a major headache.
More than it already was.
Only a moon ago, the Triarchy had convinced Dorne into the alliance, boosting their numbers and ships in the Stepstones whilst also hiring more swellsword companies, all in a bid to wrestle control away from Prince Daemon who'd secured all but two of the islands and looked set to win the conflict and take the Stepstones in his name.
A money drain that was growing into a pit that devoured gold.
To act against Prince Aegon at this point would be the height of folly, for his victory in the Basilisk Isles bore grave tinding in the eyes of many Lysene on what may come to the Stepstones and possibility of victory should the younger brother be allowed to join with the middle son of Baelon.
And then there was the possibility that the King Viserys may well be roused from his inaction should two of his brothers join to wage war against the Triarchy.
Myr was likely wise enough to understand the precariousness of the situation and would have to sacrifice their vendetta, if only to stave away causing tensions within the alliance. Tyrosh was unlikely to remain indifferent now to their petty schemes and the Conclave would welcome the end of Myr's grievances.
And truly, Johanna wondered, what Myr hoped to accomplish and what they would now get, was honestly something Johanna did not fully understand.
At best, Myr could have hoped to damage the trading capabilities of Corinth to an irreparable state. Corinth could not be destroyed, not with two dragonriders, so all they could have hoped for was to damage the income of Prince Aegon.
Nothing more, and nothing less, and so the action of involving pirates was nothing more than a petty means of vengeance and all it did was wake the sleeping dragon.
And earn Myr an enemy that it could do well without having.
It was a childish and petty way to earn oneself an enemy. Whether Myr liked it or not, glassmaking, superior glassmaking, was being produced in Braavos.
The secret was out and Braavos, despite the blockades, was managing to find corridors in the Stepstones in which to travel her ships out from, even if the numbers were less than what they used to be.
And that was not even considering that Braavos was making hand over fist through the land trade routes to Qohor, Norvos and beyond, and its trade with Westeros.
Myr should be thinking of ways to recover superiority of its glass rather than lash out because they no longer had monopoly over glassmaking like it was doing with sending pirates to harass Prince Aegon and his people, which completely backfired.
But she didn't think Myr would see the long term, rather, she expected that Myr would do something foolish again, and cause the dragon to rear his head to the city-state. And Myr would demand support from Tyrosh and Lys in the scheme.
Whether or not the two other Free Cities would join in with the scheme and foot the bill of the scheme, whether it may be gold or men, she didn't know.
The message that came with the skull of Saathos Saan was one of friendship and such a message would not be unnoticed by the Lysene.
For all that the Lysene nobility knew that the Prince Aegon clearly disliked slavery – something that the Mopanar family blissfully ignored, which she found humorous – they also knew that Prince Aegon had been dealing with them with friendly terms regardless of the conflict that the city waged against his brother.
The trade goods of Corinth were very well welcomed and there was rarely a noble household that didn't have one of the expensively designed porcelain sets of wares.
And now this, when Prince Aegon could clearly hold them as equally responsible as the rest of the Triarchy? Johanna imagined that some were probably thinking of not turning away from the further displays of friendship.
Of course, one could also consider the skull as a warning and it was probable that some likely did think it a warning…just as some could see these overtures as weakness though she expected those be fools that were more bark than bite.
"What are you thinking in that head of yours?" Ritte asked, breaking Johanna out of her thoughts.
"A few thousand things." Johanna said a little airily and Ritte looked at her with unimpressed eyes. Johanna smiled amused before she lost it a little.
"Just thinking about what we've heard…" Johanna said honestly before adding a little ponderously "and what we should do"
Ritte hummed as she sat back. "Is there much we can do?" Ritte asked with a tilted head before she added "Mayhaps the best thing we can do, is to do nothing and simply observe."
Johanna had considered that. "More would unfold." Johanna conceded and with more unfolding, more options and paths would become apparent.
Ritte nodded slightly. "If what the informant said is true, then it is only a matter of time before interests clash." Ritte smirked. "We can use that."
Johanna traced her fingers on the arm of the chair.
"There is no guarantee of that. The war in the Stepstones has bound the Triarchy in 'eternal alliance'." As long as the war in the Triarchy was ongoing, and strong, she didn't think any of the Free Cities could stomach being the cause of the loss of face.
Plus, Tyrosh was much too much in Myr's corner at present and Lys could run the risk of facing a diarchy that was mayhaps as strong as Volantis had been when Lys had been conquered. The Conclave likely were very keenly aware of that.
"No guarantee…true." Ritte's eyes gleamed slightly "But I'm sure we can work towards unravelling the seams, no?" Ritte's tone was as mischievous as it was dangerous. Johanna liked it a lot.
"Yes…yes we can." Their route to power had depended on many, many things, and the key one of them had been the necessity for the Triarchy to end un-amicably.
The Triarchy was ruled by thirty-three magisters, eleven from each daughter, and each of these magisters had their own interests and demands. Thus far, the conflict of the Stepstones had forced these heads to pull into the same direction and she'd feared that as long as the war continued, and mayhaps years after it ended, the Stepstones would be the mud that bound the stones of the alliance together.
But…the naked hand of friendship of Prince Aegon was likely to cause some of the Lysene heads to mayhaps slightly pull in other directions. A wedge that Johanna could use to push things further apart, and should things fall in just about the right way, she could mayhaps create the right bushfire to take down the entire alliance.
Of course…eventually she'd also need Tyrosh and Myr to be distracted with something else and allow her enemies to be isolated and alone with no hope for assistance from the Tyroshi or the Myrrish.
"We need people in Tyrosh." Johanna said after a few moments. Ritte eyed her curiously and Johanna continued "We might find opportunities there to help our cause." If they could find avenues to foster discord towards Myr and Lys there, it would make fraying the alliance easier.
"It will be tough." Ritte said a little dubiously. "We don't know anyone there and trying to cause something to happen there without one of us there, well…"
"Which is why we will start slow." Johanna said reassuringly before adding "It's not like the alliance is likely to end any time soon, not when the Stepstones are still being fought over and largely in Prince Daemon's hand."
Besides, it wasn't as it would be terribly difficult to find willing local collaborators. Everyone sought more power, more wealth. They just needed to find the right men who were willing to take the risk and rise to power.
Ritte considered it for a few moments. "There are a few businesses in Tyrosh we could potentially get involved in, to start with." Ritte looked somewhat bemused and irritated, all at the same time. "I'm sure there are ailing bakeries we can take over."
Johanna laughed. Amongst many other things, Tyrosh was quite well known for its marvellous sweets and pastries, like honeyfingers. She looked to Ritte slyly.
"I could give you the duties to oversee our Tyrosh, if you're interested? I'm sure their famed artisans can fashion a tasteful wolfskin apron."
The glare that Ritte sent her was as cold as the famed Wall of Westeros and, yet, all it did was make Johanna laugh even more, even as Ritte began to form what would undoubtedly be an acidic and brutal retort.
-Break-
109 AC, Isle of Toads
The first thing Aegon noticed when he set foot on the Isle of Toads was the stillness.
A stillness that he was not quite able to adequately put to place yet it was stillness that he sensed keenly. It was not the air, though the air was humid, nor was it the sun, of blazing heat as it had been out on sea and on the other islands, and it was not the smell which was of sea and flora, no, it was simply something else.
He'd dismissed it shortly after, when he noticed none of the others had felt it, and considered it nought but an anticipatory reaction to what they were coming to see.
The second thing Aegon noticed when he set foot on the Isle of Toads, was the rumours of the people here was overblown and exaggerated, whilst at the same times the rumours had strong basis of truth within them, truths that Aegon found startling discombobulating as he caught the looks of some of the people who retreated into the wilderness beyond the beachline.
Aegon glanced at his guards who were beside and behind him, Fororlan and one of the acolytes, Dorlund, each of their expressions uneasy as they walked on overgrown paths deeper into the interior of this eerie island.
It wasn't hard to see what they thought of this…place…and its people.
The pirates they'd interrogated had said they avoided this cursed island, for fear that they'd catch whatever ailment the people of this island suffered from, and he'd, at least originally, considered it to be superstitious.
No longer did he consider it superstitious.
They made it into one of the villages some half hour from the coast, where there was a congregation of barely clothed people, young and old, by their huts, and whom Aegon had a chance to have a better, closer look of.
"May the Seven watch over us." One of the guards muttered and it was echoed by the others, all except Aegon and Fororlan who was far too preoccupied with the people here, much like Aegon was.
There was, indeed, a fishlike quality to the features of the people here, widened faces that seemed to be slightly too narrow yet at the same time, far too wide.
Skin that seemed to be faintly but noticeably murky green in pigmentation, and eyes that were extraordinarily large, too alien to be wholly human, with irises that were as black as the night, different than the dark brown eyes of men all elsewhere.
The Brindled Men that he'd come across had seemed to be more human in comparison, even if they were a vivid throwback to ancient origins and divergences.
These humans…these fishlike people, were more alien than they were and so too seemed to be their conduct which was frightful and animalistic in small but distinct ways, as they congregated and dispersed in the same way schools of fish would move any time they tried to approach these…people.
The surroundings by their huts bore no signs of farming, though they possessed hunting spears and stone tools, but in all, they seemed to be exceptionally primitive in comparison to the rest of this world.
Any attempt to try and speak with them was met with strange guttural sounds with clicking reverberations underneath it that seemed as if it was generated within their very throats like a trombone, far from what human voices should be capable of, and he found himself wishing that he had the ruthlessness to make them to talk with him.
He had so, so many questions.
What their tales and their myths spoke of their origins, what they knew of the histories of this island and Sothoryos and even the wider world but…they were as uninterested in speaking with him as they were uninterested in the sight of his dragon, who flew over him in passes, something he found so strange and unnerving.
The Brindled Men were far more talkative of their origins though they were almost as clueless as Aegon was, when it came to their origins, claiming that their people had always simply been and could share no tales of where they came from.
In the end, he decided to simply bypass them, much to Fororlan's dismay who wished to do what Aegon refused to lower himself to, and go straight to the idol that spoke of ancient legacy, of ancient might and wonder and horror, and what may provide some clues about these people and about the people of the ancient world.
A legacy that seemed to dot all corners of the Known World.
From the Basilisk Isles to Asshai.
From Asshai to the Five Forts.
From Five Forts to the Seastone chair.
The only thing that these places had in common, outside of their legends that spoke of gods, was, of course, that man was at the centre of the making of these creations.
Ancient tales remembered down the generations that breathed life into the legends of ancient man, legends that spoke of works of great wonder and horror, remembered still long after their ignoble ends, legends that spoke of titanic civilisations that fell and degraded and twisted into cursed places where evil and horror loomed and breathed and stifled.
And, as they walked further inland, the feeling that he'd dismissed earlier had reared its ugly head, the whiplash of the feeling smacked Aegon into tremendous clarity, the idea of this…place being another these cursed places being realised instantly.
As Aegon and company reached the entrance eerie ruin of a town, he walked with a presence of foreboding walking alongside him, a presence that had grown the nearer he came to this certain cursed place, a presence that was clinging onto him with terrible clinginess made of hunger and avarice, growing stronger as he neared the ruins where the ancient idol loomed but a few hundred feet away.
"Do you feel that?" Aegon asked Fororlan as he gazed upon the man and the acolyte and the other guards and saw that they were all as if they were walking on eggshells, unsettled and uneased, though, he could see that it was more innate, like the feeling one who thought he was being watched from that dark corner in the room would get.
"There is something?" Fororlan asked with a deep frown as he turned to Aegon "Is that what I am feeling?" the man asked curiously but also warily and Aegon could feel the eyes of the rest of the men on him.
'…was it truly that subtle?'
"If what you're feeling is the breeze, then yes." Aegon lied calmly as he turned back towards the approaching idol. "This far into the jungle, the air should be still. There may be an underground cavern nearby."
Inducing panic in his people about the danger they were very much in would be counterproductive right now as he glanced into his right where the wind rustled the leaves and the trunks of the tall grey brown trees, a sound that seemed to enhance the sense of danger, and Aegon was could only recall one instance when he felt such great unease, and that had been when he ventured deeper inland on the God's Eye.
There was something other here.
"I see." Fororlan said a little confused before looking forward once more.
It was clear that only Aegon truly felt the clingy hunger and avarice that seemed to pervade through the very air as they neared the idol, and he knew, then, that whatever he was feeling was deeply magical…and deeply wrong.
Aegon had been feeling more and more attunement to the magic that pervaded this world the more he learnt and the more he experimented.
He could compare it somewhat to that of developing a skill of wine tasting, whereby one could taste the intricacies of flavours within the structure of wines, and as he grew more capable in magic, so did his sense of magic attunement.
Aegon pulled on his bond with Mīsaragorn, initially for comfort, and later for greater protection as the presence that surrounded him, them, faded a little but not wholly.
Light cast down through the winding and twisting branches of the banyan-esque trees down at the ruins of this ruin of a town, a crumbling and crumbled town once filled with homes of stone and mortar, now all but rubble and broken stone, so different than what the fish-like people down closer by the coast built for shelter.
Regression. Complete societal collapse. Those were the thoughts that crept into his mind, as he thought on what could have led to these people to live no better than animals in the shadows of this ruined town that might well have, once upon a time, he thought as he looked at the encroaching jungle, been a city, a capital.
There was plenty said of Gogossos and Zamettar, a once Ghiscari city turned into a Valyrian holding that promptly was abandoned because of the general inhospitable nature of Sothoryos, even at the coast, but little was said about the Isle of Toads.
Even during the period of Valyria's Dominance, little survived of any tales about the island when they settled the Basilisk Isles thousands of years ago.
It was…odd. Almost as if it was specifically meant to remain a blank page in the history of the world. Even old Rhoynar cities that were claimed to have been cursed had tales and stories about them and stories of when the Freehold had taken to try and settle the lands of the defeated Rhoynar, only for them to die of greyscale that seemed to live and breathe within the very soil and water of the cursed lands.
And there was nothing of the sort here, not truly, he thought as they begun to approach the forty feet tall idol that sat upon a stone pedestal.
The light that cast down upon it, that touched it, was meagre but it was enough to see the idol in full detail, a crudely carved idol out of gleaming midnight black stone in the shape of a gigantic toad.
"Magnificent." Fororlan said with awe as they stopped before the idol and Aegon signalled his men to remain at full attention as he looked upon them with a hard-faced expression. They understood. They felt it. Not perhaps the malignant hunger and avarice that rolled off of the thing, but on some level?
He glanced towards the idol, looking at the ground on which it stood. The earth was cracked, dry, as if it was parched of water for years, mayhaps decades, and there was not a sight of green around it, as if the toad stone was an anathema to life itself.
Aegon glanced towards the other buildings and saw plants and trees breaking through the former foundations and walls of the homes.
Aegon returned his gaze back to the idol and he stared at the idol, his face twisting in contempt and deep wariness as he felt the flood of hunger and avarice streaming out of it with near unending waves. 'Mīsaragorn…stay close' Aegon tried to communicate with urgency in his bond. He did not like this thing. Not one bit.
His hand fell towards his dragonglass dagger that hung on his waist, though whether or not it'd be much use, he wasn't entirely sure, and wasn't that a damn pity?
Aegon remained silent as Fororlan talked with the acolyte about the oily black stone, hypothesising what it might be made of and Aegon did not contribute to the discussions, his gaze and attentions far too set on the head of the toad stone, barely blinking in the process for concern that the moment he did not watch the thing carefully would spell their doom.
The commentary of Fororlan was nothing new, however. About how the oily black stone may have been created and how it could endure for such a long time.
As always, sacrificial magic was the main culprit and he did not disagree as his face twisted ever more as the intensity of the malignant presence grew.
Some of the theories, which extended to fused stone, was the element of human sacrifice, to utilise 'life' and 'death' in such a way to power magic to bring about a life-like component to ordinarily immutable and lifeless material, like stone, and shape it using the sacrifice and fire, a symbol of life and creation and change, and shape it into permanence, harder and stronger and longer lasting than anything else.
He disagreed with this being the way fused stone was created, predominantly because he believed that dragon fire on its own was enough to bring the kind of permanence fused stone shows.
Dragon fire was the epitome of creation, borne out of the maw of a being made of magic and life and death, a creature that by all rights, should not exist and, based on its mass and its bones, should not be able to fly as easily as it could do, safe for dragons could because they were practically the living embodiment of creation itself.
Dragons exists, though they should not, just as life, with all of its variety, should not exist and yet it does. In only a few instances in infinite possibilities, life sprang out of existence through chance and change, and life begot life, miracles made manifest.
Life was a piece of magic all of its own, creation warped into the essence of every little living thing and dragons…dragons were representatives of creation at its highest order, beings that should not be possible and yet were, beings that could breathe fire that could be used to sustain yet also to destroy, and it was for those reasons that Aegon believed that dragon fire and manipulation of that breath of creation was enough to change stone into the shape and hardness he wanted.
And when he was at Dragonstone, walking in the halls made of fused stone, he never got any other feeling than that it was meant to be a citadel, as intended, as shaped into being, and should he return this very day, with his greater magical senses, he knew he'd feel the very same of the Targaryen home that he once felt distantly.
But this thing…
Aegon looked upon the idol with contempt and deep wariness.
This stone was pure wrongness.
It was as if all the negative emotions that had ever been felt by humanity was contained within the very atoms of the stone, seeping out of pores in oily blackness.
Avarice. Malice. Wrath. Madness. Black of stone holding within the blackest of that which exists in the hearts of men.
Whatever magic created this…
It was so very different than the embodiment dragon fire had, creation and destruction, two sides of the same coin, and instead, Aegon thought that it bore the embodiment of contempt for life, that life was nothing special, nothing but a tool to be used, fed upon, leaving it twisted and changed for its amusement.
Aegon noticed Fororlan edging closer to the stone and Aegon snapped his full attentions to Fororlan, the fool that he was. "Stop moving to the stone, Fororlan."
Fororlan stopped in his tracks at Aegon's harsh tone and turned towards Aegon.
Aegon met Fororlan's gaze. "Don't touch it." Aegon's voice was sharp, unwavering and Aegon glanced at the malignant thing "That thing will leave a mark on you and it is not a mark you wish to have."
Fororlan looked to him with increasing wariness as the guards beside Aegon shuffled uncomfortably. The talk of magic had been unnerving them and now Aegon's words were spooking them. Not a situation he wanted to get into. Fear could make men do all kinds of things, even to men they had great amounts of loyalty to.
"What do you mean?" Fororlan asked with a heavy frown as he stole glancing at the toad stone and Aegon was increasingly getting irate, the presence that was pressing down on them, him, playing on his irritability.
"Move away from the toad stone Fororlan…now." Aegon said harshly and Fororlan did as he bid though it was reluctant. Aegon cared not, only that Fororlan did as ordered. Everyone had taken a few steps away from the oily black idol now too.
"t is malignant, this stone." Aegon said as he turned his gaze away from Fororlan and towards the toadstone idol. "It is hungry and it wishes to feed upon you."
'It has wanted to feed on all of us the moment we set foot on this accursed isle'
The stories of the pirates that thought this island accursed were making a lot more sense. Doubtless that they once tried to make this island of one of theirs, only to meet well deserved tragedy. Aegon was beginning to think that some of those fishlike people might not have always been the natives of this island.
A chill ran down the spine of Aegon as he thought on it further, his gaze boring onto the head of the toad idol.
Could that be it? Like a malignant tumour, this idol meant to metastasize, infiltrate, changing the very being of those who were swayed under its influen-
The black eyes of the toad idol snapped towards him with suddenness, avaricious murder radiated from black crystal eyes, the ever present presence now grown to suffocating density of horrific proportions and Aegon paled with deathly whiteness under the impossible gaze and the awful, evil intent that was hung on the very edges of visual perception.
Aegon felt reality drift away from him as the radiating avarice struck him still, as if he was falling into a pit of emptiness, of nothingness, pulled towards eyes made of abyssal darkness that lie waiting at the bottom of the pit.
It was only with the will to live akin to that of a wounded wolf before a bear that knew it would die if he did not fight that he managed to shear himself out from that stillness and he clung onto that will with all that he could as he pulled at, with all of his might, on his bond with Mīsaragorn.
"Mīsaragorn!" Aegon all but bellowed out and, as he felt something around the toadstone change with devouring corrupting qualities, Aegon threw away all pretence of composure and dignity and screamed for his dragon, horror and terror seeping into his voice as he palmed his dragonglass dagger. "Mīsaragorn! Mīsaragorn, dracarys! Run you fools, run now!"
Aegon pulled at the nape of Fororlan's clothes as he turned around to run and his expression of terror and horror changed even further as black eldritch wisps exuded out of the toadstone with impossible clarity and Aegon, with deathly sense of self-preservation threw Fororlan forward, forcing him to run and bolted forward like his very life depended on it – and it very much did.
Mīsaragorn's bellow of flames had come only moments later, and he felt respite from the overbearing presence that seemed to shrink under the flames and Aegon commanded Mīsaragorn not to land on this cursed land but all of that was becoming a distant danger as Aegon noticed bulging eyes amongst the tree lines.
"Enemies beside us!" Aegon shouted out they ran on the miserable path back to the shore. One of the fish people drew near to Aegon and Aegon, in one swell movement, ducked under the grasping arms and jabbed the dragonglass dagger into the neck of the creature and he promptly let go of the dagger, unwilling as he was to waste precious seconds to pull the dagger out.
Aegon unsheathed his Valyrian steel dagger, unwilling as he was to run full tilt with a bastard sword in hand, and continued to bolt down the slopes towards the distant, seemingly a lifetime away shore. Aegon reached to Mīsaragorn and ordered his dragon far away from this hell hole.
Aegon had lost count how many fish people he had cut or killed, or how many of their party remained – a party that had been five and ten strong – the sounds of screams and shouts of his name bitterly ignored as he still felt the clinging hunger reaching out to them, and the moment the shore arrived was a moment that Aegon felt was far too long in the making.
"On the water, now, now!" Aegon bellowed out as the men by the boats were alarmed by the sight of him and his men running towards him. Aegon reached out to Mīsaragorn and he felt the agitation within Mīsaragorn and he sent out feelings of warmth and gratitude and brotherhood to his dragon and it calmed Mīsaragorn down.
Only when Aegon arrived by the boats did he notice that only eight of his people managed to make it out of the jungle and one of them that had not made it was Fororlan. "My Prince" one of the guards said with uneven breath, pale faced as the lot of them "I saw one of the creatures drag him into the jungle."
Fuck…
What the fuck was wrong with this world?
"M-my Prince…what was that evil?" another of the guards that had made it out asked him with a tremulous voice as they settled within the boat.
Dorlund, the young acolyte who survived spoke up next, his voice almost dead as he looked "That…that thing was their god."
The guards in the boat began to mutter prayers from the Seven-Pointed Star and honestly…Aegon did not blame them one bit as he sought to control his shaking hands, the cold that seeped into Aegon feeling as if it reached bone deep.
"Dorlund has the right of it" Aegon said in slight shakiness as he glanced to his men, the ache and guilt he felt at the fate of his men left behind almost overwhelming him.
He never felt as terrified as he did in that moment, the terror that thing invoked in him was almost spiritual. He had not been afraid for his life but rather his very soul.
"But he is wrong. That thing…was no god. It is a demon from the pits of hell cursed and bound to stone on the lands of the living." Aegon said grimly though it was not the complete truth. Whilst he did think the thing was bound and cursed into that oily black stone, he didn't think it was a demon…at least not with religious connotations.
No, he was beginning to think that these entities were not deities, not in the classical sense, but rather terrible products of man and their deeds.
The men muttered with agreeing notes to their voices before some of them fell into another series of prayers and Aegon looked upon their terrified visages with a solemn look, the pang of guilt of the men they left behind feeling as strong a dagger to the heart.
"Men." Aegon drew their attentions and he continued with solemnity "I failed you. I failed our men left behind in bowels of that cursed isle, may the Seven have mercy on their souls. You have my apologies."
"My Prince" one of the guards said shakily with a bowed head "Had you not told us to run when you said so, I do not think any of us would have survived that hell."
Murmurs of agreement and firm yet terrified nods were given all around by the men who had been there though Aegon's feeling of guilt never lessened.
He'd known that that place was cursed almost from the beginning. None of his people had needed to die if only he wasn't so struck and determined with finding answers to questions that he was considering may not have needed to be answered.
Aegon smiled strained before he nodded slightly before he lost and sighed heavily and said "We must not speak of this ever again to a living soul. The evil on this island, forsaken as it is by the light of the Seven, must not be revisited by any of our people." Aegon looked to his people with sharp eyes. "Is that understood?"
Aegon spoke with a sternness that took every ounce of his being to conjure up, a feat that surprised him despite the way he was so off-balance and honestly…terrified.
The agreement he gotten from his men was easy and the men who were rowing them back to the fleet were too frightened and disturbed by the discussions to disagree.
When he arrived on board of the ship, he ordered the fleet to return to Port Corinth post haste, still agitated and guilt wrought as he was, he only settled down his nerves somewhat when he arrived in the lone comforts of his captain's room.
Aegon fell into his chair like sack of meat and clutched his head in his worn hands.
What actually was this damned world?
That was more than just magic, no, that was far more than just magic. It was an entity, an entity starved yet with such power that Aegon was unsure that it could be ever be destroyed in any capacity, regardless of the magic he or anyone learned.
God…
What did these people do to create such a thing?
Aegon pulled his head out from his hands and sat back in his chair, his hand washing over his face before he stared at the door with an almost empty gaze.
He wasn't even sure that it was people who created this thing but the terribleness he felt from the thing was just a bit too human, even if it was hyper-warped.
Could it be…? Did these people commit great and terrible acts of evil in some kind of ritual that warped the very essences of themselves, and their victims, into such an entity?
No…
Aegon thought as he sighed heavily. That didn't make sense…what would be purpose of it? All actions had a root of logic in it…roots of purpose.
What could these people gain from doing whatever they did to create that entity?
He doubted he'd ever learned that reason, he thought with a sigh before Aegon cast his thoughts towards the God's Eye and the 'Old Gods'.
Aegon was sure, especially now more than ever as he thought on it, that the 'Old Gods' and this entity were of the same family, even if they were different in nature.
The presence he'd felt from them was one of watching, unwelcomeness. It had felt more personal than the blind avarice and malice he felt from this entity and he was beginning to understand what they truly were.
God…
Aegon stared at the wooden ceiling.
He really needed to work around that oath he got himself into.
Whatever the 'Old Gods' were, they may not be as malicious as this entity had been, but it is clear that these were not friends of humanity, regardless if they had been created or born out of humanity…or others like the Children of the Forest.
These things were wild, other, beyond human understanding, beyond good and evil.
A low mirthless chuckle escaped Aegon's throat. He was extremely glad he did not pursue his curiosity into the jungles of Sothoryos and set foot into Yeen.
He could only imagine what horrors that cursed place would have.
He could only imagine the things in that place had absconded away with the Rhoynar settlers to do what they will with those poor people.
Aegon grimaced as horror crept into him unwantedly with the chill of winter cold. No…he could not imagine, he corrected, and he closed his eyes momentarily as he forced himself to do away with his thoughts.
He reached out to Mīsaragorn and his dragon responded with urgency and concern, showing images of himself flying over Aegon's fleet, and Aegon smiled softly as he soothed his dragon and once more let Mīsaragorn feel his undying gratitude for coming to his rescue.
He was not sure he would have escaped had it not been for Mīsaragorn distraction, recollections of the black eldritch fucking tentacled things he'd caught a glimpse of coming to the forefront of his mind and he shuddered with the entirety of his body.
God…it was going to give him nightmares for years to come.
Aegon sighed with a slight shudder in his voice as he clenched his fists slightly.
He severely underestimated the kinds of things that hide between the crevices of this world. And that stone…that stone was nothing like fused stone.
Aegon only barely managed to resist the urge to shudder once more as he thought on that thing that was coming alive. That stone…that stone was alive in some way.
Alive in a way that Aegon did not understand and honestly…he was questioning his sanity for still having interest in understanding it. Aegon swallowed dryly.
There were more of these things in the world…and one of them was used a damn throne chair in the Iron Islands and Aegon blanched as he thought on fucking eldritch kraken monster gods hiding in the deep influencing the Ironborn.
God…
He was way out of his depth. So, so far out of his depth.
He heard a knock on his door and Aegon realised that over an hour had passed since he'd arrived in his cabin and, after he took in a deep breath, he called out to the guard to let the man in and he recentred himself…somewhat.
Dorlund was no longer pale faced though he was still shaken up, and honestly, he doubted any of them would not be shaken up for some time to come.
"Sit, Dorlund." Aegon said as he watched the young man walk further into his cabin and Aegon studied the man silently. He was amongst Fororlan's most favoured acolytes, someone Fororlan had chosen personally to be his assistant in most matters.
Dorlund was a clever man, one who could grasp most problems with an ease unfound amongst almost all of the acolytes, and Fororlan depended heavily on the man's intuition for the experiments in alchemy the Alchemists thought up.
"How are you feeling?" Aegon asked the man with inquisitive eyes.
Dorlund smiled weakly "As well as a man who came to face the gates of the Seven Hells and managed to escape from it with his life could feel, my Prince."
Aegon scoffed and his bearded face twisted into an understanding grimace. "Aye." He simply said before he sighed inaudibly. "I am sorry for the loss of Fororlan…you were close with him."
Dorlund nodded slightly and there was a shadow that fell on the man's face.
"Aye…he was my mentor. A bastard, yes, but he taught me all that I know. I will mourn his loss." Dorlund said before he shook his head and looked to Aegon.
"You do not believe it was a demon…do you, my Prince?"
Aegon smiled faintly before he shook his head. "If only it were that simply, Dorlund. No, I think it is something worse than a demon for I do not think we would have been left to deal with matters of the gods had it truly been a demon."
'If only it was a demon…at least I'd have salt and pentagrams and the like as a starting point on how to get fucking rid of them' Aegon thought half-jokingly.
"You think it's magic?" Dorlund asked with low horror in his subdued voice and Aegon could understand. For someone like Dorlund, like it had been for Aegon, magic was this wonderful mysterious forbidden thing, like the beautiful wife of your neighbour, something to be aware of but not never think of or touch.
This…event…shattered that illusion.
"I think that thing is an outcome of magic yet not of magic itself." Aegon said carefully as he studied the man's reactions "The ancient legends still remembered thousands of years later are not so mythological as we once believed." Aegon said mirthlessly as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still intent on the man's face.
One thing he was absolutely sure of…he wanted to make sure that their forays into magic never reached…whatever point those civilisations did to create such entities.
And for that to happen…he needed hate for such magicks to be institutionalised within the fabric of the Alchemists guild just like hate for all magic was institutionalised by the Citadel of Oldtown.
He did not think stopping studies into magic was going to be helpful in the long run, not when they were aware of the entities and kinds of magicks that were out there.
The Citadel of Oldtown were foolish in this regard, pushing towards a future of no magic when in the rest of the world, there were potentially dozens of places that practiced the art with terrifying ability…or bore scars of the practice in terrifying ways.
And knowing as he did that the Long Night was coming in the next few centuries, an event that had also happened in the Far East during the Empire of the Dawn as their findings were indicating, not knowing and understanding was dangerous.
As…traumatising this event had been, it was the kind of trauma that needed to scab over and rebuilt their skin into being tougher than ever.
"I need your assistance in making sure we never create that kind of thing, Dorlund." Aegon said with intensity in his voice, his face struck with utmost seriousness.
Dorlund flinched under Aegon's gaze though Aegon suspected it was more because of remembrance of the close brush to death he'd faced. They all faced.
"I…I understand, my Prince." Dorlund said after a few moments and he sighed heavily before he heaved himself upward and looked to Aegon with determination.
"I will not let the guild fall into the trappings of the past. It…It will only lead to destruction over everything and damnation. I…I know that very well now." Dorlund said with a hollow edge to his voice. Yes…yes…you do, Aegon thought grimly.
There was also little doubt that Fororlan likely dismissed Aegon's concerns and barring of investigating the potential of sacrifices in his conversations with Dorlund and likely with a few others that the man trusted somewhat.
No…Aegon thought as he watched Dorlund leave his cabin, there is nothing that can justify that avenue of magic, magic that mayhaps well had caused the doom of the mightiest of civilisations.
And, until Aegon had any kind of clue of how to destroy such things, the best they could do is simply to continue to understand magic whilst ensuring they never reach for whatever caused those things to exist.
The days after the…event…had been quiet, much needed quiet, and the weeks that followed as they travelled on the seas had lifted much of the tension and stress that had taken hold of the crew in the wake of the event.
Aegon busied himself with his journal, doing his best to forget the horror that had nearly claimed his life, though he failed more often than he would want to admit, and instead, pushed himself in the matters of the present and the future as he thought of the next steps his people should take, whilst also being in constant contact with Mīsaragorn, seeing through his eyes in still images as his dragon roamed the skies and ate from the seas and the islands, before Mīsaragorn flew back to Corinth.
And it was then, when Mīsaragorn arrived in Corinth, that Aegon noticed the oddities around the town and the port. The port was overfilled with ships, indication that his people had returned but, there were also more galleons than there should be.
And the moment Aegon realised what ships they were, a great degree of relief washed over him, happiness that his sailors had returned from the mission West.
Aegon afterwards had then guided Mīsaragorn to land in the Port by the Lady Dawn and Discovery and hope that Gael would understand that he was seeing through Mīsaragorn's eyes.
It took a little while and some panic amongst his people but eventually Gael, with Liāzmariña in tow, came and understood why Mīsaragorn was making a nuisance of himself and it was then that he learnt that the mission was successful.
Aegon had barely managed to resist the urge to laugh out loud like a madman, the relief, the vindication, the triumph, felt so overwhelming, finally casting away the shadows of the horror that was the Isle of Toads.
The days since – his ships were still over a week away from arriving at Port Corinth – had gone like a blur, the plans he'd been making over the past few weeks cast aside.
He had been coming to a point that he was deciding he should begin settlement plans of Moraq, the negativity of the Isle of Toads and the acceptance that he couldn't rely on hope and belief in his estimations when it came to the matters of the safety of his family and his people.
But now…finally…he had the final piece he'd longed for ever since and, as Aegon stood on the deck of his ship, gazing out to the open sea as they were but a few days sail away, Aegon thought on what needed to happen now.
Finding land had only ever been the very first step.
Twin roars broke him out of his thoughts and he turned towards the source and he saw Mīsaragorn, Liāzmariña and what looked like two of his sons' dragons flying.
No…he thought as he stared at the dragons, a gleam in his mismatched eyes. The true work only started now.