The Tartered Dragon - Aegon, Son of Baelon

by mootjeman7

An man from our world is reborn in the world of ASOIAF and decides to make the best out of it through adventure yet it never is that easy, even for a third prince. OC-SI - Overlaps with HOTD.

27. Chapter 25

Trado - Love the review! There will be reaction POVs throughout the next parts of the story :]

UzuShiro - Gracias (love google translate, lmao)

1 - Yes, it was rough...I hope so too (strange thing to say about a character you're writing but Uthrik is a favourite of mine) and what Aegon is asking of his butchermen is brutal too. All kinds of terrible things...

pari34161 - asking for spoilers there! I can unequivocally say though that Aegon - or his children - won't be fighting against family.

LordDarkness89 - ;]

EndOfTheGlory - Personally I think there is probably a great many stories like this...most of which are forgotten in the annals of history. One of the greatest however that is remembered, is of course Alexander the Great. If even half of his speeches and his treatment of his men was true, then that was the kind of leader and inspiration that I would have loved to pick up a sword for.

coldblue2015 - RE the last point... ;))))))))))))

Jxgod - Haha, thanks. I watch youtube vids of great speeches on repeat to get the feelz and write whilst the feeling lingers !

boredasf13 - For sure...there is no justification. Not really. But ultimately, it happens, and unfortunately, cold calculus is brutal. Always has been...always will be. We are quite terrible beings, we are, and ASOIAF is in a world that is a mirror of our own history (and Martin's bleak opinion of humanity). I wish it wasn't so.

6lakH2O SA - Thank you for your review! I am honoured that I am in your favourites. I don't think I'll write a AGOT era SI fic, it'd be so exhausting (lol) and there are so many already. I like being a bit unconventional.

Pan-san the Panda - "You're Seven namedays old, Aegon! Why haven't you taken Andalos in the name of the Seven yet!?"

horizonte XY - His people definitely believe that. The Summer Islanders probably do as well to some extent. More will know as more information about him is revealed.

Everyone else, thank you for your reviews and comments, I always read them even if I don't respond to them. As always, please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think.

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

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Mid to Late 112 AC – Elamaerys

Castorys POV

Shouts of 'heave' and 'pull' and 'push' and 'last blocks' rang around him in the quarry, his eyes surveying all around him.

Compared to the stone, granite quarries, this marble quarry was largely untouched in comparison as he eyed the less than a moon old scaffoldings before he turned to eye the huge iron wedge like tool that was half as tall as a man, a tool the builders and scholars had come up with.

Many of the quarries were as 'virgin as the Maid', and so they needed to cut into the ground and make very large holes and valley-like areas so that it is was easier to work around.

With dragons around, one of these scholars had the bright idea to use the dragons carry the iron wedge to the site at the end of a very thick and strong rope and men would hammer the iron wedge into place before unhooking the rope and then hammering it into the ground and chipping large blocks of stone or granite or marble, speeding up the quarries in producing.

He and brothers did this a few times a week, more if there was time – and the dragons were not tired – though he did more than his brother did. Only really because Gaelithox preferred this than carrying stone blocks to the riverboats, which they did to double or triple the amount of stone that was being transported to the city ground.

Plus, creating a kind of road towards the river was rather important and creating a channel that directly led to the river was what they trying to do at the same time.

There was even a larger wedge that only Liāzmariña was strong enough to carry and place, so mother sometimes also helped with the chipping off larger blocks.

To be truthful, if mother wasn't so busy with managing the colony and caring for his younger siblings, he could her helping out a lot more. Their dragons helped save a lot of time and it increased the rate of building of their home.

He eyed the scaffoldings, of which there were six now. The miners had only been here a moon, and with their dragons, they'd already created a small valley like area. It was a good thing that marble was a softer type of rock than granite.

It was a good thing that marble was a lot softer than granite or the stone quarries

He heard a soft growl and he turned his head towards the noise and he saw Shrykos who was fifty feet from him and Gaelithox, his thick black and grey hedgehog like horned head raised slightly, growling at one of the men who got too close to the tempestuous dragon as he tested the strength of the line that connected the net.

Valarr patted the scales of his dragon in almost a scolding way and he smiled wryly when he saw Shrykos huff before he laid down his draconic head onto the ground, though, his eyes followed the fearful man who'd backtracked a lot and was scuffed across the head by one of the quarry overseers

He didn't need to hear what the overseer was saying the man. It was well known that Shrykos was not a 'friendly' dragon like his mother's dragon Liāzmariña which can stand to be around people with no real problems.

Though it mostly because the bond between mother and Liāzmariña was very strong and the dragon was not young any more like his and his siblings' dragons were.

His eyes veered towards the net nearby Shrykos which was being loaded up with an large wooden crate filled with blocks of marble stones.

The crate was heavy, very heavy, about four times the weight of a strong man, and it was about the limit that their dragons could controllably and comfortably carry towards the river which was about a fifth of a league westward.

And the dragons couldn't do it more than two or three dozen times a day nor could they do it two days in a row. Well excepting Tyraxes who could carry a crate thrice the weight of a man. The dragons grew tired and hungry and irritated by the labour so they had to make sure they had a new easy flight and hunt every other day.

None of the brothers really minded that at all. It was great. They got to see so much of Elamaerys, from the jungles over the mountains in the east, to the teal coasts by the white sand beaches on the eastern northern side of the land.

Hopefully he could get to fly to Draconys and to the 'Seven Ladies' soon when Admiral Bryce was going to take some of the silk weavers to scout the islands ideal locations to have another silk worm colony going there.

"My Prince" Castorys heard and he turned towards the call and he saw the tired silver-haired man named Corlin in cloths caked in powdery stone.

"Yes Corlin?" Castorys asked curiously.

He was a man that used to have a shop in Corinth that cut and shaped gemstones and diamond into jewellery. For now, he was overseeing and working in the marble quarry until the city had finished its second phase in two years' time.

A lot of people were having to do new kinds of jobs, a lot of being dirty and hard work. But, it was working quite well, especially since everyone had a role to play in getting their city built.

It also helped that everyone knew what their payment would be once the jobs were done, on top of earning good wages for their current jobs.

Those who made and wanted to make a living in the city would have their shops built along with their homes along with one-off payment of coin whilst those who wanted to farm would have two hundred acres with the promise they could increase their lands provided they worked for it by labouring to build the city for a longer period.

Those who wished to remain in the city and their business, also had this option to extend their labouring period but for them, the exchange would be a larger one-off payment of coin.

The farmers, the ones who already had been given their allotment and were producing food, were also granted a choice, to increase their allotment in exchange for labour or a longer duration of selling their crops at a reduced pricing.

As it was at the moment, their family was 'paying' the farmers for their produce, paying for the food their people had at no cost to them.

Although, for now, the majority of the wages were being 'deferred' until the city had finished phase two, when the sewage system, bathhouses, latrines, twelve to fourteen thousand homes, the city hall and so on, were completed.

The incentives that father, mother and the council came up with was working very well, where even knights were more than happy to do a labourer's work knowing that they were going to receive more lands and coin than they'd ever expected if they were still in Westeros, at least that was what the few older knights had said.

He supposed that it also helped, a lot, that Elamaerys was seen as a special place, the promised lands that they were guided to by the Father of All, The-One-Who-Brought-The-Seven, with mother and father seen as the shepherds of their people.

Though, he wondered how much their family would have left from their vault, which contained all of the wealth of Corinth excepting what father had taken with him to war. There were millions gold and silver coins stored in their home.

Later, when phase two was finished, they'd increase in getting more of the roads, lighthouses and even a few villages, a bit further downstream closer to the mouth of the river, built, and they'd have to get offer more incentives, or larger pay, to get it all done.

He knew that father knew that they would be burning through a lot of coin in getting the colony up and running and he expected it was part of the reason, a small part, of why he was fighting in Slaver's Bay.

He wasn't worried though. Mother and Edwyn were keeping a close eye to the ledgers and it wasn't as if they couldn't make up for it by just selling land since all of Elamaerys belonged to their family anyway.

"The last cuts of the blocks are taking a little longer than expected." Corlin said, drawing Castorys out of his thoughts and he looked towards the sun and saw that the sun was going to set in no more than two hours from now.

Getting the crate to the riverboat wouldn't be an issue for the journey was not more than a sixth of an hour nor would the flight back to the city ground take long but for these people, the journey back would take several hours on riverboat.

He turned back towards the man. "I can take whatever is available now." Castorys said to the tired man, not wanting the men to journey in the dark.

"As long as the blocks can fit in the crates, it'll be fine. They'll find a use for the odd-shaped blocks, I'm sure." Castorys said with a sure nod.

He'd seen the design of the Sept. There'd be a lot of shaping of stone to be done to get those arches and those carvings made.

Corvin smiled and bowed his head towards Castorys. "Thank you, Good Prince."

Not long after the man began to order the men to get the stones loaded into the crates, Valarr and Shrykos took flight, grey wings storming up a small white dust cloud in the process, claws firmly gripping onto the hook-like ends of the net, and he could see the dragon being more forceful in the use of its wing muscles.

He eyed the dragon and his brother until and after they disappeared beyond his sight. Their dragons had gotten stronger over the past six or seven moons.

Before, they could only do a dozen trips and with lighter crates. Now, though it wasn't quite twice the weight, it was near enough one and a half times that weight, and twice or thrice the amount of trips they could do compared to the beginning.

It was amazing to see, how strong they were getting. And, if Polaerys and the dragonkeepers were right, their dragons were also growing faster than they had been before. And he could believe it. After all, he thought Gaelithox was growing quicker but initially, he thought mayhaps it was because his dragon was maturing.

Mayhaps it was a combination of both.

Truthfully, this whole thing was proving to be a boon beyond his expectations. From wanting to be important and useful to the building of their lands and their people, only to find that his efforts were being rewarded by Gaelithox growing faster and stronger than before.

It was like the Gods were pleased and were thusly rewarding them for it.

It was great and mayhaps, in a year's time, they'd even double or triple the weights of the crates they were carrying, increasing the building of Elamaerys further.

Polaerys was keeping an eye on all of the dragons' growth rate in his journal, and he smiled a little wryly at the thought of Polaerys' journal…and that of his own and that of Valarr's.

Father's journal writing and journal keeping had inspired them to keep their own journals too although Valarr's journal was more of a picturebook full of maps and scribblings in comparison to his or Polaerys' more precise writings.

A little while later, Gaelithox's serpentine neck craned towards the men, some of his neck scales looked like polished gold as some of them gleamed when the sun hit those scales at a certain angle, traces of impatience and annoyance creeping through their bond.

"Calm." Castorys murmured as he patted his dragon's scales. Gaelithox was not as tempestuous as Shyrkos but he too had his limits and when his dragon was really irritated or angered, he could be difficult to calm.

Gaelithox craned his serpentine neck more and met Castory's gaze with his slitted rose-coloured eye, a colour that matched his belly and his wings. "Won't be long before we're back home. Last lift today." Castorys said to his dragon and his dragon huffed, small embers of gold exiting his nose, before he craned his neck away and wearily watched the men put the crate into the net, and Castorys snorted lightly at the act.

Gaelithox was not a dragon that liked to be overly active, not like Shrykos although it seemed like Valarr's dragon was more the exception than the rule, given that Tyraxes was as mellow as Gaelithox was, and he knew that if it wasn't the bond that they shared, Gaelithox would be a lot more difficult to get to do things.

Soon enough, the crate was secured in the net and he guided Gaelithox, through the bond and through his hands on his scales, to the net. Gaelithox knew what to do and he huddled over the net as he walked on his claws and hind legs before the claws on his hind legs found purchase on the hook-like ends of the net.

Gaelithox growled lowly before he extended out his wings, a wingspan of more than forty feet wide, and began to beat his wings, gusts of wind were wrought and dusts were sent away as Gaelithox beat and beat his wings, until they were airborne.

When they were dozens of feet above the ground, the number of beats lessened to a more stable rhythmic amount, and he felt Gaelithox more at ease as they continued at a pace and strength that he liked.

The climb was always the most tiring part of a dragon's flight. Once they were airborne, they were as comfortable as they were as if they were roosting on land.

As they flew towards the river, he turned his gaze towards his left, towards the south of Elamaerys. These parts of the lands were mountainous though, not far in the distance, in the valleys that one could just about see this far high, you could see thousands of acres of trees that stretched far into the horizon.

He and his brothers had flown around there, noticing those trees were more alike to the red trees found further north but when one went beyond the small range of mountains to their immediate south, towards the stretch, the lands turned wetter and were like the jungles on the western coast of Elamaerys on the other side of the mountains.

That was the farthest they'd been, though, he knew the scouts and the cartographers had gone further than that, who explained that the jungles got very dense some five and hundred leagues southwards, some five leagues further southwest from the ends of the river.

There was another mountain range beyond that dense jungle too, a mountain range said to wall off Eastern Elamaerys from the rest of the continent.

Much of Elamaerys was mountainous, very mountainous, but it seemed their city and the western side of the lands were likely going to be lands that were going to be settled the most in the centuries to come, and it wouldn't surprise him if the islands, particularly Draconys, would have more people than there would be in the interior of the lands.

To be truthful, he thought it would take a long time before the southern lands were explored properly. Elamaerys was a big land. It took many weeks for Admiral to complete a whole journey around the lands. From what the men were saying, they believed Elamaerys be five or six times as large as Jhala, maybe more than that.

Soon enough, he was at the camp at the banks of the river where there were four riverboats waiting, one already filled and another to be loaded with the two waiting on the men to return from the quarry, Shykos not far away from the men.

He guided Gaelithox to land not far from the bankand the crate made a thump as Gaelithox carefully placed it down whilst he was still beating his wings and moments later, his dragon touched down onto the ground fully, and he guided Gaelithox towards where Shrykos was resting some hundred feet away from the men.

His brother was on the ground too, likely having been stretching out his legs and after Gaelithox furled into himself not far from Shrykos, he climbed down from his dragon's back and walked towards Valarr.

He eyed Shrykos curiously before he looked towards his younger brother. "How long does he need to rest?" he asked Valarr. They each made thirty-one trips like this today and each time, the dragons needed a little longer to get their strength back before they travelled the longer distance back to the city ground.

"I think Gaelithox could do with a bit of rest as well." He added as he glanced at his dragon who had snaked around itself, his eyes closed. He could feel his dragon being tired but not overly so. Usually when he'd tired out his dragon too much, he could feel it. Now, even as he looked asleep, he was far from feeling like that.

Valarr turned to look at Shrykos, a considering look on his almost twelve nameday old face. His brother was growing taller each day, catching up on him and Polaerys. There was only ten moons difference in age between them.

"Mayhaps half an hour." Valarr considered before he turned to look towards the sun. "We should still make it up before night." Valarr said before he eyed Gaelithox "Though mayhaps we need more time with the way Gaelithox is at rest."

"He's fine." Castorys said wryly. "You know how he can be." Gaelithox wasn't a lazy dragon but he was definitely preferred to take it easy, unlike Shrykos.

Valarr laughed before he grinned. "Yeah, I know." Valarr said before he dropped down to the ground and leaned back on his arms. "We might as well also rest."

"I'll go speak with the men first." Castorys answered as he began to walk away. "At least to them know that they can go as soon as the crate is loaded." No riverboat went alone, if they could help it, especially around these parts where the river was a bit more dangerous compared to the river by the city ground.

If one of the riverboats sank, there'd be another one to pick up the men. The riverboats were not exactly the best built ships – and they were more used to building wider and much larger ships – mostly only to be able to bear a load and carry men and goods, so they were being cautious for now.

He spoke the men for a little while and watched as two of the riverboats left to back to the city ground whilst the two others remained. He wondered if they'd come across the last river boats of the day from the stone quarries that were much nearer to the city ground.

Polaerys was at the Lyndos quarry, one of the most productive quarries, even without the aid of Tyraxes, which was only three leagues from the city ground and close to the river too.

Usually they worked together at a mine but with things progressing very well and very quickly, they wanted to start begin gathering the materials for the Sept of Elamaerys and other important buildings.

He returned to his brother and their dragons and saw Valarr staring up at the sky as he laid on his back. He had a strange thinking look on his face, the same one that he knew his brother had when he was bothered by something.

"What's bothering you?" Castorys asked as he sat down beside his brother.

"Not bothering." Valarr said with a shake of the head. "Just…thinking." He said with a glance towards Castorys from the corner of his eyes.

Castorys hummed as he eyed his brother curiously. He didn't push and instead, he leaned back on his arms, his eyes turning towards the sunset.

It was beautiful here. Quiet too. To be honest, much of Elamaerys is quiet. Only really when one went towards the coasts where lizardlion-like creatures and large skinny birds with colourful feathers and strange large furless beavers dwelled was there much animal life.

It didn't use to be like that, from what Admiral Bryce and the first settlers had said. During the night and sunset, the forests and the land seemed to come alive with noises from animals and the like.

Birds bigger than men. Strange lions and strange bears. Nothing like that was heard nowadays at the city ground, or even in the farms at the edges of civilisation. Though he figured that was mostly because of the rangers and the hunters who still managed to bring back every day new pelts and meat.

He wondered what kinds of beasts and mysteries existed beyond the areas they claimed and made their own. To be truthful, it was something that excited him.

Valarr might be the most adventurous amongst them, although he couldn't be sure that status would remain given that Solonys and Breannei were growing up to be little troublemakers themselves, but there was a streak of adventure in Castorys too.

He wanted to learn everything there was to learn about Elamaerys. Why it's so quiet. Why the Gods had found it fit to leave it untouched for their people to find it.

He looked away from the sunset and towards the river. When father was back, he'd ask if he could spend some time away to explore Elamaerys with his brothers.

They remained quiet for some time as they sat by each other, quietness that was broken after Valarr spoke up. "I was just thinking…" he trailed off and Castorys turned to look at his brother, who now bore a frown on his face.

"Do you think I'll be the one to marry Valaena?"

The question surprised Castorys. It would be many years before they had to think about that. "I don't know." Castorys admitted. They knew that one of him, Polaerys or Valarr were going to marry Valaena though the girl was only eight namedays at the moment, younger as she was by four and five namedays.

"Why are you thinking about that?" Castorys questioned curiously.

Valarr turned his head towards Castorys. "I was just thinking about the future and you know…the thought passed through my mind." Valarr said with a shrug.

He continued "And well…I realised that you definitely won't marry Valaena." Valarr said with a heavy frown. "You're the heir, the future Archon and Head of our House." Father had explained his plans for Elamaerys and their family to the brothers, and the rest of their people knew of it too.

He knew that people were disappointed that father wasn't going to be King although most people still thought of him like that, and mother the Queen too, but he also knew that once things were established, people would get used to it. His brothers were already used to the idea, of being part of a kind of dragonlord council that was only of their family, with people like Edwyn and Ser Cedrick helping their family rule like they were now.

Valarr continued "Your marriage will be important to Elamaerys and I think father has something in mind for you."

Castorys had thought about it. Who he'd marry. It was part of their duty, to marry as their parents wished. He knew that Breannei was someone he could be made to marry. He furrowed his nose slightly at the thought. Whilst she was not their sister, they all saw her as their sister, and not their cousin.

It would be strange, to marry her, and stranger still, to marry Rhaena. He couldn't imagine it. Though father never spoke of it, he knew that their family has strange ways where they married siblings to each other. Their whole family line, his grandparents on one side being the siblings of his mother and then the other side being the parents of the other side and his mother, was…confusing.

"Father wouldn't want me to marry someone from Westeros. Not unless it was one of our cousins." Castorys said finally. Valarr hummed and nodded after a moment.

"Father doesn't like the nobles there." Valarr agreed. "But I think father does want a connection beyond Elamaerys so it wouldn't surprise me if he considered that as a reason to marry you to some lord's daughter." Valarr added.

"Mayhaps." Castorys remarked as he thought about it. "Or he could marry me to a daughter from a Essosi wealthy family. A family who can give us something we might need." 'Like people' he mused to himself. Elamaerys was very big and as much progress as they were making, they definitely more people to come.

"Mayhaps." Valarr conceded "But anyway" Valarr waved it away "So that means it's either me or Polaerys and I think it's probably wise marrying Breannei to Polaerys."

"You say that because you don't think you have the patience to deal with Breannei." Castorys said wryly and Valarr.

Breannei was like a fiery storm, active and demanding and very sure of herself, which was funny to see a seven nameday old little girl to be but yes, he could see that being difficult if she was a woman.

"Aye." Valarr said seriously before he eyed Castorys. "I think Polaerys definitely has the patience for Breannei if she gets worse than she already is." Valarr paused for a moment "And I think I wouldn't really love her. If we were forced to marry."

"How would you know that?" Castorys asked with raised eyebrows "Mother always says that love is something that grows." Castorys looked away from his brother and looked towards the sleeping Gaelithox. "If you're against it now, you'll just salt the earth before anything ever grows in it."

Valarr made a noise of frustration and then he clicked his tongue before he sighed.

"Mayhaps." Valarr conceded and they went quiet for a long little while.

"And you think you would be better suited to Valaena?" Castorys asked, ending the silence.

"Mayhaps." Valarr said with a shrug. "I do think it would be better. If I was forced to choose." Valarr remarked.

Castorys shook his head and he looked towards the sun one more time before he spoke up. "Anyway" he said as he got up and he extended out his hand to his brother. "Time to go." Valarr made a face before he took the hand and got to his feet.

"Besides, you shouldn't think about this now. We're only two and ten and three and ten namedays old and the girls are younger still. It will be many years before we have to marry anyone." Castorys told his brother and Valarr nodded, seemingly a little at ease.

He paused for a moment as he eyed his brother. "You said you were thinking about the future…before you started thinking about marriage." Castorys stated. His brother blinked for a moment before he answered.

"Oh." Valarr looked a little sheepish. "I…uh…I was thinking about the ports."

Castorys was surprised and his eyebrows raised. "The ports?" he asked confused.

"Well…you know how Elamaerys, the city, sits in a pretty bad place for ports? Well, I was thinking about how much effort it might take to just…you know…break the land a bit further in some areas and kind of" Valarr shrug his shoulder a little uncomfortably before he continued "move the ports further inland once the cleared land is drowned by the river. Like this." He said before he took out his Valyrian steel dagger and began to draw onto the hard ground.

It was moments later that he saw Valarr drawing out the city as they knew it from the sketches and the models, and he saw what Valarr meant with the edges of the river banks on the far side of the city at an area outside of the city boundaries moved much, much further inland.

"Looks like a weird bowl." Castorys commented as he stared.

"Yes!" Valarr commented "And some outside sections will be used for loading and unloading whilst other sections inside of the bowl will have shipyards inside to build sections of the galleons or carracks or whatever." Valarr paused for a moment before he continued.

"In one of father's journals, the one about shipbuilding, there was a section about something called assembly line, where different portions of an object are made separately before being put together, which father remarked was a principle that could be applied to shipbuilding." Valarr said brightly as he stood back up.

"I was thinking about this being something I could try, you know?" Valarr said with a shrug before he turned a little quiet "What do you think?"

Castorys eyed his brother. "I didn't know you had interests in things like this." He was surprised by this side of his brother. He was far more carefree than all of them so to see this side of him was…surprising. He never mentioned having interests in shipbuilding or other things like it, only his dreams of wanting to explore the seas and the skies.

Valarr smiled a little. "I didn't know either." Valarr said with a small laugh "I've been thinking a lot about what I want to do…you know once we're older." Valarr looked away slightly from Castorys' gaze. "I don't think it's right if I just do everything I want when I know you and Polaerys will help mother and father with everything."

Castorys smiled and he brought his arm around Valarr's shoulder "You should have said all this later when Polaerys was amongst us. You would have broken him."

The brothers laughed together at that and after they stopped Castorys continued "You know you don't have to give up your dream…you know." Castorys said a little gently and Valarr looked to him. He continued "We know very little about the waters we're surrounded by." That had been the initial idea that Valarr shared with them…that he'd map out the world around them.

"I know" Valarr said with a nod "And I will…I just think that I can't always do that. Creating and building something like this would probably be something I would like to do for a while."

Castorys smiled. He was happy for his brother. He knew that Valarr wasn't too keen on ruling as Castorys and Polaerys were so him having a goal like this…

"I think it could work." Castorys said finally "It probably needs a bit of work but between us and, mayhaps, with father and the builders, we could make it work."

"You'll help?" Valarr asked curiously.

"Why not? I'm also curious about this assembly line that father mentions. He hasn't mentioned in the journals I've read." He paused for a moment. "Mayhaps they are in the others." There were three more journals he'd yet to read. 'Economics and Trade', 'Diplomacy' and 'Patience and Endurance'. He was only half way through 'Leadership' too...

He guessed it may be in the Economics and Trade journal rather than the others, if it was there at all…

"You can read the shipbuilding one if you want." Valarr said with a shrug.

"Thanks. Probably later though." Castorys said with a smile as they separated. They often shared their journals, especially Polaerys' journals about magic.

"Alright, let's go…we've been here long enough, I think." Castorys said as he eyed the sun. It wouldn't be long before the men from the quarry were back at the ships as well. Valarr agreed and soon enough, they were both in the air on their dragons.

The journey took a little while, their dragons flying slower and less tiringly, though they still arrived well before sunset. He gazed upon the city ground.

The easterly side of the river was largely untouched whilst the westerly side, for near enough a league, was also largely untouched save for a few small buildings, like the temporary Alchemist Guild's building where most of the Alchemists were, and the long trenches that ran through the ground, some of which was already lain in with concrete and stone to make it waterproof, trenches that would become the sewage system.

They were making good progress with the sewage system. Already they'd lain in several leagues worth of sewage ways into the city ground.

There were several more leagues worth of trenches still needing to be lain in with concrete and stone however it took a lot of effort and preciseness to ensure that the sewage channel floorings were at an strong but not too strong of an incline so that water and piss and other filth easily flowed towards the ends of the sewage and out into the river.

It was only when you looked farther away, that you could see buildings…homes.

At the outskirts, still leagues away from the river, you could see the houses. They'd achieved their target of thousand homes in phase one already even though there were still four moons to go until the end of the year, something that greatly pleased everyone.

One of the homes also functioned as a school whilst the school was being built, which was happening in the countryside too. Soon enough, the gierūli district, 'the first gathering', would also host a 'constabulary' building, a kind of city-guard but one that would be more spread out in the city, and a proper healer-house.

Beyond this first district, another league away, there was a much larger settlement, all living in cabins or in concrete homes, and in between that settlement and the gierūli district was their manse. Most of their people still lived there now but slowly…that slowly was changing, especially with the home sharing.

The homes alongside farming families taking other families into their already built homes was reducing the number of people in the cabin settlement.

And he'd see to it that this time next year, it would be all gone.

He could see Liāzmariña clearly, along with Tyraxes, at their walled manse. There wasn't much of a stable for the dragons. Not for his, Valarr's, Polaerys' or mother's dragon. Only the younger dragons, Tyria, Stormfyre and Lysia had were located in a concrete square bare building that was large enough to fit them.

They were young and at night, it could get quite cold so they needed to be kept warm with pits of fires.

The older dragons were more or less fine and he never felt discomfort from Gaelithox even when it got really cold at night. And fortunately, the weather during the day was very warm anyway, only a little colder than that of the Summer Isles, so they had little concern about it all long term.

Especially when they build their fortress on the mountain that overlooked the city ground.

It was somewhat funny, the way it all was. Their dragons were more like members of the family than they were, well, dragons. Yes they were outside but they lived so close to their homes, inside of the manse' walls, so much so that you could hear them sleep from within the manse if you listened carefully enough.

He smiled a little amusedly at the memory of Solonys saying that it sounded like they were snoring.

Yes…he mused to himself as their dragons landed a little ungracefully, his eyes falling onto Liāzmariña and Tyraxes who were both looking at them, the dragons were really part of their family.

The dragonkeepers, some of whom, along with their families, stayed in the other small building attached to the manse along with a few of the guards, arrived as he and Valarr climbed off of the backs of their dragons.

"My Princes. Your lady mother awaits you at the dining room." The elderly dragonkeeper said with a bow of the head and soon enough the dragonkeeper guided the dragons towards the farthest side where the dragons would have a little more space to rest.

During the time father had been here, they'd begun to build the exterior walls around the manse for the dragons so that no 'accidents' could happen, the building having finished less than a moon after father had left. People could be stupid in their curiosity or well, just in general, after all.

They walked inside, passing by two of their house-guards who stood at the entrance way, and made for the dining room. It was very small, this manse, in comparison to that their old home in Corinth.

As they walked into the dining room, he was greeted with the sight of his siblings and Lady Daemera, Ser Aethan Celtigar's wife, along with Vaera and Valaena, and of course their mother.

They'd already started eating, it looked like, and after getting a distracted greeting from the children, his mother spoke up. "Sit." She said with a smile, gesturing them to their seats.

"Ah, you've started without us." Valarr remarked as he sat down though he quieted down when he was served a plate full of spiced chicken and vegetables. Castorys sat next to their mother, and was served a plate too.

He missed some of the Summer Islander dishes. A lot of the food nowadays was very boring. He hoped they'd soon begin to grow spices instead of only nutritious foods though he was disappointedly expecting that it would still be a while.

"Return home on time then." Rhaena said with a stink-eye before she stuck her forkful of food in her mouth.

"Rhaena." Mother warned and Rhaena wisely kept herself quiet.

"I'm sorry little sister." Valarr said with a mischievously sly smile "I was a little busy fighting a monstrously large terror bird that had feathers of all kinds of colours." Valarr sighed excessively before he eyed the still stink-eyed looking Rhaena though there was a glimmer of curiosity. "I was going to give you a few that I won from the terrible bird but now…I don't think so."

"You lie." Breannei piped up "The terror bird feathers are always dirty white!"

"How do you know?" Polaerys interjected, and from the look on his twin's face, he could tell he was wanting to pile up on teasing their younger siblings. He must have suffered them a bit too long then, Castorys thought wryly.

His siblings bickered, or rather were being teased by Polaerys and Valarr and he heard his mother asked, quietly, "Any problems at the quarry?" and he turned to look towards his mother and he smiled gently at her before he shook his head.

"No problems…we met our quotas." Castorys told his mother before he asked "Anything interesting happen?" he asked with a wry smile on his face.

His mother laughed before she looked at him amused. "Much of the same." She told him and he understood what she meant.

Mother ruled in father's name so everything that happened on Elamaerys was for mother to know…and decide.

Fortunately, a lot of the work, the planning, the schedules, the people who were responsible for individual projects and building and so on, were all working as intended, allowing mother not to be overwhelmed with the colony.

Edwyn and Ser Cedrick helped mother a lot, as did the civil and administrative servants who, despite being trained for more 'bureaucratic' and 'administrative' roles, were very able in aiding that everyone had what they needed for their tasks, which, for now, mostly about ensuring things were made or arrived on time.

He spent a little more time speaking with mother, about a bit of everything, including secret hints about father's call in a days' time, though that conversation petered out by the end of dinner. His younger siblings and the Celtigar girls were taken away by the servants, readied for sleep, and soon he left mother alone with Lady Daemera, and went on to his room.

Mother and Lady Daemera had become better friends, he mused to himself, since father and Ser Aethan had left. Lady Daemera even helped mother with some tasks as well, that was mostly related to the keeping of the ledgers and the books.

He wasn't sure what to make of her though. He could tell that this was not easy on her, to come here and live so differently than what she was used to in Westeros.

After all, she was half-Sunglass and half-Darklyn, her father being the Lord of Duskendale, a town that was only third to Driftmark and Kings Landing in the Crownlands.

From Duskendale to Claw Isle to Corinth and now this middle-of-nowhere?

Early on, he thought he could see the look of regret on her face. He'd wondered if she'd regretted the matches? Even though no one told him, he could tell that marrying someone from their family was seen as something beyond important. So much so that they would agree to move to a virgin land in the middle-of-nowhere.

Still…he hadn't seen such a look on her face recently. He hoped it was because she was getting used to it…

He'd washed his face and parts of his body with a washcloth before he settled himself on his bed, a journal in hand and the candlelight flickering beside his bed.

He'd read most of the journals father had made for him. Books about philosophy and strategy, one's own perception and the perception of others, how to speak with people, how to get people to agree with you, court intrigue…there was a lot.

He stared at the journal. He'd not spoken with father since he'd left for Slaver's Bay. None of his siblings had. Only mother spoke with father once every few days.

Though his younger siblings were told that father's glass candle was 'too far away' for it to work. For himself, Polaerys and Valarr, they were told the truth.

That father couldn't be distracted whilst he was at war. Mother had told him so and he'd seen the look on her face as she'd said so. It was saddened. Not for them…but for father.

He'd known that war was an ugly thing but only then, did he realise that father was going to kill a lot of people to help the slaves in Slaver's Bay.

He clenched his fists slightly. 'Be well father and come back as you promised.' Castorys thought to himself. He knew that father was fighting for the prosperity of Elamaerys, both long term and short term. Fighting to gain wealth for their family and Elamaerys and also fighting to make sure they had allies in Essos. Real allies.

Father had written on the necessity of Elamaerys having long term strategic relationships with other peoples, even if they did not need it militarily, explaining that absolute isolationism is unhealthy for a people.

Having Liberty Bay as an ally, or at least friendly cities, would ensure that Elamaerys, long term, wouldn't be closed off to new ideas and economically, and importantly wouldn't be closed off to 'the happenings' of the Known World.

'The happenings' was a term that father used a lot in his journals, when he spoke about the prospect of Elamaerys being isolated and it seemed to be the main thing that father was worried about when he spoke about isolated…

He shook his head and he let off a sigh as he opened the journal, forcing himself to stop thinking about anything else but the journal. He'd laxed in his readings over the past moons, focusing more on his training and his other duties…

"Guiding Progress…" he murmured as he read the title of the chapter and he continued "Progress. A simple word that, to me, holds entire worlds in meaning…" and so Castorys fell into his reading.

'Progress.

A simple word that, to me, holds entire worlds in meaning.

It means the fruition of ideas, the fruition of hard work and togetherness…

The fruition of a people.

Thoughts that are expressed into ideas, that express human aims, that are realised through human will and hard work and collaboration…

All of this culminates into the possibility of changing the very world.

We have seen such examples, my son, in history.

One such example is when the Summer Islanders first discovered the presence of 'others' through contact with the Ghiscari, they began to have imagine.

They began to have ideas.

They began to bring those ideas into realisation.

And so, they began to explore the world in ways that very few peoples have accomplished. Then and since.

Such is the way of progress, and history is rife with such examples.

However, for most peoples, progress is not taken to mean, or actioned, in such grand scales.

For most people, it is by far simpler and smaller.

For most, the idea of progress is having the means of providing security for loved ones and to oneself, namely food, coin and safe dwelling.

For knights, progress, can be taken to mean to earn oneself glory, land and a son to build on what he achieved.

For lords, progress, is to rise above your current station. Through fortune made or by the misfortune of the nobility around you. Often times, it is very same thing.

For every walk in life, progress is the definition of walking towards a better future. For themselves. For their family.

And, what I want you to ask yourself is this…

Why are people wishing for the exact same progress as people, supposedly, thousands of years ago had also wished for themselves?

The same families farm. The same families butcher meat. The same lords rule.

The same ships, unchanged for thousands of years, are built.

Ideas and knowledge remains the same as it has been for thousands of years.

So why has progress stopped? Why does it stop?

Repeatedly throughout history?

Why do people and societies and civilisations simply…stagnate?

The Summer Islanders, once again, are a perfect example to use. Many, many years later, mayhaps as much as six thousand years or more if history records are to be trusted, the Summer Islanders are no different now than they were back then.

The First Men too remained the same for thousands of years, with bronze swords and bronze arrows, never once learning of the iron and ways of steel that was all around them, not until it was shoved into their chests and cut off their heads.

The Andals did not do much to progress either, taking what the First Men had and adding to what they already had.

Valyria was no different, to a certain degree.

At a certain point, progress is halted and stagnation takes root.

This is repeated throughout history and all peoples.

Nothing has changed fundamentally for over a thousand years as I write this today.

So…my son. My descendants.

Why?

There are no simple answers.

Mayhaps there has just been a general lack of luck.

Or mayhaps the lack of opportunities and circumstances could be to blame.

Or mayhaps malicious interference is in play.

Mayhaps it is all three.

What can be said, however, is that Elamaerys can be the spark that changes everything, should it continue on the legacy of myself, my wife and my children.

Elamaerys can be the pillar of progress this world needs to escape this nightmarish stagnation.

That is my greatest dream, my son. To see Elamaerys lead a new age. To the moon and the stars, a long lost dream that one day our descendants will see happen.

I am sure you have gathered from my writings in this chapter that I cherish progress.

My love for progress is strange and unknowable to most people, I understand, but the easiest way to understand it is that progress, to me, is a benchmark for how well I and my family have guided my, our, people.

It will be our legacy, my son. My descendants.

If I see the son of a butcher become a merchant of acclaim, I find myself satisfied.

If I see the son of a knight choose to become a discoverer, I find myself satisfied.

If I see the son of a farmer choose to be a scholar, seeking to find new scientific truths about Gods' world, I find myself satisfied.

It means that the cracks in the wheel of this nightmarish stagnation are beginning to form and that is far more important than you, or I, can understand, I suspect.

In any case, I will end this foreword to the rest of this 'Guiding Progress' chapter on this note.

We have the capacity to imagine and dream and think wondrous things. We must only allow ourselves the opportunity to make those imaginations and dreams and thoughts into reality.

And that will start by making knowledge and opportunity available to all of our people.

-Break-

Late 112 AC – Braavos, Essos

Sallen Baerros POV

The crashing waves came to a slow as the looming titan beckoned before them, a titan that was awash with mist and misery at its feet, looking like an indomitable god amongst men, amongst all other gods, the Titan who loomed over the world.

It was a wondrous sight, Sallen mused, one that the Braavosi saw each time they gazed at their north from their homes, their harbours, the image of safety, the image of their patron, their north star, the one who guided their way.

Sword raised above a helmeted head, clad in bronze armour.

Proudly defiant, fiery in spirit.

A hero god, a hero image.

A bastion to emulate.

And yet…

The image was as much a lie as the titan was.

Its roots, its feet, were black granite, firm and solid, true, yet its very centre, its chest, its heart, was as hollow as Braavos was in its promises and its meaning.

The sole truly Free City, they call themselves, yet, not even in their campaigns against Pentos did they rouse this defiance this Titan stood for, had made been to stand for.

They've had several instances, the most recent in 86 AC during the Braavosi-Pentoshi war, to force change onto Pentos but they always stopped short at doing so. The 86 AC war was a total defeat for Pentos yet Braavos had not pressed further, too content to receive war reparations in coin and deals than they were beginning, forcing, the process of change into Essos.

They were pragmatic like that.

Like they'd been in the centuries since the Doom, even when Volantis was reduced to a shadow of its former self for the past century whilst Braavos alone had grown mighty in wealth, influence and, most importantly, militarily.

As they passed between the legs of the titan, three generations worth of labour, a growing smirk make its way on his face. Braavos prided itself on its history…on how it was founded. A city built by slaves. A city that had its wealthier patrons look after their lesser well off brothers and sisters.

'Yes you have much to be proud of but now…now it was time for you to pay tribute. Time for you to pay your due. One way or another.' He thought to himself.

For too long had Braavos kept a 'There is nothing we can do…we're only one city out of a dozen. We're outnumbered and alone' attitude whilst at the same time, they ensured through the world of coin and debt, and thus through power and influence, that they had no single rival capable of up-ending the carefully chaotically laid cevasse board that was Essos.

Only a few times did they depart from this strategy when the game had pushed them into corners, where assassination was not a ready solution, like their wars with Pentosh and the war with Volantis, and now, he thought as their fleet of ten sailed towards Chequy port, now they would be pushed into another corner, one of his making.

As his ship and the other nine ships were made to dock at the Chequy port, the ships soon being subjected to inspection, he glanced around at the busy port before him, a port that bore sails and sigils from lands all over the Known World.

It was a curious thing, the way Braavos managed to centre themselves as the hub of commerce despite its faraway location from the rest of Essos.

They were not known for its metalwork, they were not known for their laces or carpets or dyes or any other such luxury goods, only recently having grown to establish a bastion of industry in the form of glasswork, yet for centuries, it was comparable to Volantis in terms of how much commerce passed through its ports.

And it was solely because of its industrious people who traded far and wide, which, in turn, brought sailors and merchants to this city, many of whom belonged to lands north of the Stepstones, which in turn, of course, also made it easier to fuel the industriousness of the Braavosi people.

Ships, they say, in Braavos, are as plentiful as lover's pox is in Volantis, and more plenty is the means to which to obtain the coin for the ships.

As much as a tribute to how easy it is to make one's own fortune in Braavos as it is to the financial might of the Iron Bank which rules, in more ways than one, all of the financial institutions that dwell in this city.

And through the Iron Bank, he thought as he watched the customs officers board his ship…did the wealthiest and most powerful families rule Braavos.

Some time later, one of the customs officers, the three others having gone below deck to check their wares, stood in front of him with a small book in one hand and a quill in another. "Order of business?" the custom officer asked in a bored tone, his eyes equally as bored.

"I am an envoy on Prince Aegon Targaryen's behalf." Sallen said as he reached into his pocket, the corners of his mouth ticking upward at the startled look, and he brought out letters bearing the Prince's three dragon-headed maroon and blue seal.

Though the Prince had changed the flags of their sails – though theirs was nondescript to avoid any undue attention – this was still his personal seal.

The first letter was for the eyes of the representative of the Sealord, the other, directly addressed to the Sealord, as was normal custom.

"I see." The custom's officer said before he turned and shouted at one of the officers at the piers to come up and not long after, the custom's officer, after having read the standard letter, sent the runner on his way towards the Sealord's Palace.

Presumably.

"Will you be staying on deck?" the custom's officer asked and Sallen shook his head.

"Most of the crew will remain on deck. I and a small contingent will stay at an estate in Crescent Moon district. It is on the street across from the Sonny-wise alehouse." They were five hundred strong but only eighty, twenty of them guards, would come with him.

The custom's officer nodded "The Sealord is a busy man. I doubt he'll be able to see you right away." Sallen smiled politely at that as the custom's officer paused for a moment before he spoke further. "One of my officers will remain with you as you make port at the Purple Harbor to take your location should it be needed."

Sallen nodded his confirmation and soon enough, they were making way towards Ragman's Harbour, the place where all foreign ships were allowed to dock.

He never liked this harbour. It was poor and filthy, and it was part of the reason why they had the Prince buy an larger estate where they could rest if they were staying for any time longer than a few days.

In any case, he thought as he began to walk into the city proper, happy as he was to leave behind the smell and dirt of Ragman's harbour, his eyes casting onto the serpent boats that passed by him in the canals, Braavos was a strange city.

No doubt it was one of the better cities to be in, if you were commoner, but affluence and wealth spoke as loudly here as they did elsewhere.

For all of their hate and wariness towards Kings, the Braavosi wealthiest families tightly controlled the city in ways that resembled their sister cities.

The Sealord himself – a position that directed military and foreign policy of Braavos – was almost never someone who did not hail from a prominent family and when it comes to the policies of the city and the public in general, the Keyholders of Braavos – who once again are only those of from the prominent families – were the ones who could vote on such matters.

It did not matter if you were a landowner or if you were wealthy.

As long as you were not from these select three or four dozen families, families that to be truthful did rise and fall as fortunes and fortune did, the chances of political success were exceedingly low if one was anyone else.

Power, after all, no matter your origins, was not to be shared with others more than was needed, no matter if you were against slavery or not.

Of course…

It did not mean that the people of Braavos had no power…that was far from the truth. The Braavosi were fierce in their own way…and they were far more visibly against slavery than these families. And that would be key.

They arrived at the estate in the Crescent District, a small manor-like home not unalike that of the estates in Kings Landing or elsewhere, and their party of eighty quickly settled in after they were greeted by the servants and the master-scribes.

"How long do you think it will take for the Sealord and the Keyholders to grant us a meeting?" Arvin, his subordinate, asked curiously as they, and the rest of the men, dined amongst themselves though he and Arvin sat a little further away from the rest.

"It depends on if they wish to play games." Sallen said amused to his young protégé before he took a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

"And I suppose it depends on how curious they are about Prince Aegon's offer?" Arvin asked slyly and Sallen gave the young man an amused look which answered his question.

The men that had come with him knew of the importance of the mission…and how important it was to gain Braavos as an ally. The men Sallen had requested a meeting with, were exactly the kinds of people that needed to say yes to the offers.

The Keyholders of Braavos he requested to meet with alongside the Sealord, were also the most influential Keyholders of the Iron Bank.

Politics and coin were swapped with the same hand, in this city.

And fortunately for the success of their scheme working, these heads of families were also those who greatly profited from the glassmaking deal that Prince Aegon negotiated with the Keyholders and the then Sealord Aenarris.

There was not a wealthy estate or manor or palace, that did not have Braavosi glass in their halls and rooms. Even in Westeros, such splendour was sought after, especially with the way that much of the Red Keep was said to be gleaming with crystal clear glass, including the Red Keep sept which had its painted glass replaced with almost translucent coloured glass, something that he would expect to be replicated in the sept in Oldtown and in the other cities of Westeros.

That, coupled with Prince Aegon's success in general and of course the discovery of lands beyond the known world, all but guaranteed that Prince Aegon's offers would be seriously heard and once he was in the room…

He simply had to draw them in, entice them…sell a future to them.

Four days passed before they were told the request has been accepted, longer than he thought, and, he guessed, the more interested and curious they might be in the 'mutually beneficial' deal.

It didn't matter. It suited them just fine to be truthful.

"You know what to do." Sallen said to the men as he eyed them. They had made their presence known to many establishments, that they were men of Elamaerys, the Prince's men. The other men that stayed behind would do the same at the ports.

"Yes, captain."

He nodded at them as they left, and he watched them go with an intense look on his face. They would be the push he might need to get them to agree to this.

He walked up marble steps to the formidable looking bank. There were few buildings like this in the world, he mused to himself. Imposing. Daunting.

Almost regal in a way.

'I should make sure the Trader's Guild in Elamaerys would be modelled after the Iron Bank.' He mused to himself, a hint of promise interlaced in his musings.

Once he was in the Iron Bank, the token that had been delivered to him was handed over to the guard, and soon enough, he and his escorts were walked into the heart of the Bank.

"Stay here." Sallen said to Arvin and the other men as they arrived at huge hall, an arched hall with a ceiling so high one could fit the masts of ships with room to spare to the limits, that led to, presumably, the famed council room.

There was points of conversation that he did not necessarily want his subordinates to hear at this moment in time. Once he'd gotten the agreement, they'd be invited back in to assist on the finer details.

The ironwood looking doors creaked open in front of him and he was invited in by one of the guards, or officers, he wasn't sure, and, as he walked into the room, his steps clacking and clanking on the marble flooring, and he was greeted with the sight of seven faces behind a long gleaming dark wood table that was shaped in a 'T' symbol, with all of them right beside one another and a lone, single, chair at the end of the 'T' like table.

'I like this…I should have such a table' he thought to himself rather impressed. It gave an air of superiority and severity that he quite liked.

Sallen arrived at the end of the table, his gaze lingering on the faces in front of him, a gaze broken when he heard a face on his left.

"Presenting Sallen Baerros, Envoy of Prince Aegon Targaryen" was announced by a short and thin man who stood at the sides.

The man then went on to name the faces that were present.

From the left: Keyholders Nakio Antaryon, Jaqarro Prestayns, Garros Otharys, the Sealord Tregario Phassolis, Keyholders Joriphos Pranelis, Sireah Torone and Neyessoquo Reyaans.

All of the Heads of families he requested were present. Good.

"Esteemed Keyholders." Sallen said as he inclined his head slightly before his eyes went towards the man in the middle, the man who bore the sea-blue shield pin on his right side of the chest, the symbol of the Sealord. "Sealord Tregario Phassolis."

He took a seat moments later and Sallen smiled at the servant girl as he took the offered glass of red wine from her, his glance following her for a half a moment before he turned back at the sharks before him.

"We were surprised to hear of an request to meet with us on the behalf of Prince Aegon." Sireah Torone, a buxom dark-haired woman who looked to be past her better years yet remained good morsels of her past beauty, began.

"We would have thought that it would be the last time we'd hear of Prince Aegon after this fascinating news about lands in the West." Neyessoquo Reyaans remarked in a way that enticed explanation.

"Elamaerys, I believe, is the name of these lands, dear Neyessoquo." Sealord Phassolis said with a smile to Reyaans. "But yes…" Sealord Phassolosis trailed off as he turned to meet Sallen's gaze. "I would have thought so too, unless, of course, it is not as wonderful as it is rumoured to be."

"You are well informed." Sallen said with a smile though privately, he wondered if he should be concerned that they even knew the name of Elamaerys. There were only a few places in the Known World that knew of that name…

Lotus Port, Omboru and mayhaps a few more Summer Islander Princes and Princesses, Claw Isle, and likely, now, the Red Keep.

Given the proximity of Westeros, he was more sure than not that their information came from Claw Isle…or the Red Keep…or worse, elsewhere in Westeros. It wouldn't surprise him though.

The last time he spoke with Seleyse, on Claw Isle, he got the impression that she was not impressed how…leaking the Red Keep was. He was not privy to that side of things, but he did get the impression that Seleyse knew far more than she ought to and if she, a multi-brothel owning 'madame', knew that much, well…

"But there are no concerns about Elamaerys. Most of our people have relocated there and it will soon be a place that will marvel all that lay their eyes upon them." Sallen said with a pleased smile "I'm looking forward settling down there, in time, of course." Sallen made a show to look around at the ceiling and walls. "Hmm. I may have been inspired what I wish my home to be like in the past few moments."

He kept his tongue about how 'wonderful' Elamaerys was. There was no need to expand on the new lands. Vagueness and mystery would serve Elamaerys well, that he agreed wholeheartedly with Prince Aegon.

'Mystery would make goods made in Elamaerys all the more luxurious after all.'

"I would caution you on that." Nakio Antaryon said and Sallen turned to meet his gaze and he saw showings of amusement on his aged face. "As marvellous as such a large and immaculate space is, it is terrible during winter times. Our ancestors unfortunately did not think to install a hearth in many of these rooms."

"I'm grateful for the sound advice." Sallen said with equal amount of amusement on his face before he grew serious, his eyes trailing across the expression of the assembled powerful men…and woman. "If you are curious about Elamaerys, I am sure that I can share a few things about the new lands once we have completed our…discussions." He said with heavy emphasis on discussions.

"Of course." Jaqarro Prestayn, a younger brown-haired man, said with a glint of curiosity in his eyes "The…discussions. To be truthful, we are surprised that you, given your…importance to your Prince, would be the one to set foot here for these discussions – details of which were left unexplained in the letters" Prestayn said with a pointed note in his voice and Sallen only smiled placidly at that.

The letter requesting to meet to hold 'discussions about offers that would be of interest' was purposely vague to ensure they were as interested and off-kilter as possible.

Prestayn continued "so close to many who would not pass up the chance to collect your head."

That was true…there were some in this city that may know of the old bounty on his head. It was why he had a rather large escort of skilled men.

"Ah." Sallen said with a soft chuckle as he leaned back in his chair, his right leg rising before he crossed it over his left. "I do tend to stick to more Eastern ports." He said with an amused smile adorned on his face.

"Though I assure you, it is not for fear of some pittance of a bounty."

"Not many would call thirty thousand gold coins a pittance." Neyessoquo Reyaans said with a shadow of a smile on his face.

Sallen made a show of surprised offense on his face.

"That little? I warrant at least five times that amount." He said as his face twisted in a wry half-grin before he lost as soon as it appeared and he continued after a shrug. "My avoidance of the ports of northern Essos is purely accidental, I assure you. My talents were needed in Yi-Ti and beyond in the Far East." before he smiled at them as he laid the glass of wine to rest in his lap.

It wasn't surprising that his old friends and family back in Norvos were not letting the grievance go though he was surprised that they increased the bounty on his head. He wondered when they did that…

"As interesting as my troubles in my ancestral city are" Sallen said in a leading tone as he met the eyes of those in front of him. He wasn't concerned that they teased at that particular old scar.

It would be beneath these Braavosi to orchestrate his demise…even if he was to potentially upset them with his daggers.

"Yes. Your request to meet with all of us specifically about a…undescribed offer from your Prince." Sealord Phassolis said as he clasped his hands in front of him.

"An unusual request."

"Yes, I imagine so. You have my gratitude for accepting the request, esteemed Keyholders. Sealord." Sallen said with an inclined head as he eyed the people in front of him.

"No gratitude needed." Joriphos Pranelis, an elderly thin grey-haired balding man, said smilingly, before the man eyed Sallen with a particular look that he did not like. "Such an interesting request bearing the seal of our acquaintance requires such prompt acceptance."

'It took you four days for you to arrange this meeting…'

"Acquaintance?" Sallen asked curiously as he trailed the rim of the wine glass with his finger "I had not known that my Prince was a…notable acquaintance of yours." Sallen then forced his eyes slightly wider. "Ah…yes…of course. The glass industry." Sallen looked across the faces of the people in the room.

"The glass industry must be doing well if Prince Aegon warrants the enviable status of acquaintance." Sallen smiled thinly.

"Unimpressed with the phrasing?" Garros Otharys, a middled-aged rotund man, asked curiously with a gentle placid smile and Sallen drank of his red wine when Otharys continued. "One could perhaps call Prince Aegon our partner in the glass industry but I believe such usage of words are not to be used lightly."

"I agree." Sallen interjected as he settled the glass in his lap. "Partners, partnership, are heavy words." He said before he chuckled lightly. "It means something. Like marriages, mayhaps, which one can even call a partnership of a kind."

"One could also use the heavy word as a substitute for alliance." There was a gleam in Otharys' eyes when he said that.

"Mayhaps not alliance though certainly it would not be opposed." Sallen said with a similar smile. "It is the hope of Prince Aegon that by the end of this meeting, there will be an understanding along those lines."

"Is Myr the target of this…alliance? Is that why you're here, Sallen Baerros?" Sealord Phassolis questioned. "To ask for our aid in your coming war with Myr? With the Triarchy?"

"It would be disappointing if that were the case." Sireah Torone enthused as she eyed him intently "We've already entangled ourselves in such an affair with a Targaryen and it left us quite disappointed. We're not eager to entangle ourselves with another again."

"I'm surprised you consider the War for the Stepstones a disappointment, Lady Torone" Sallen said with a raised eyebrow. "After all, it did its purpose for you, did it not? Myrrish sea-trading was disrupted long enough for merchant ships to fill in the gaps, and subsequent usurpation of the share, in the global trade of glass."

That comment certainly earn him some looks. "I'm surprised you know that much." Sealord Phassolis commented, his eyes scrutinising Sallen heavily.

Thank the heavens for the glass candles. The master-scribe Payten that was stationed in Braavos, after every quarter of the year, left for Kings Landing to meet with Seleyse, under great deal of secrecy, who in turn would inform Prince Aegon of the status of his account in the Iron Bank.

Through that, and through quite substantial amount of guesswork with how targeted the Braavosi were being, did they come to the conclusion that the motives of the Braavosi was entirely to subsume the glassmaking industry.

Prince Daemon's war was nothing more than a means to their goals.

"Prince Aegon pays attention to many things, including to his income from his share of the glassmaking industry. He has a talent for numbers and details." Sallen said in explanation.

As a significant owner of the whole glassmaking industry, of which there were now dozens of small scale producers, near enough all being owned by the families in this very room – the former Sealord Aenerris' shares were bought to service the debt owed by the family, thanks to its incompetent, and now dead, successor – Prince Aegon was privy to the profits made by these companies.

Though he wouldn't be surprised if the Braavosi expected that given the…distance between Prince Aegon and Braavos, the news of such profitmaking was rather…hard to come by. Prince Aegon certainly was not privy to such information elsewhere, not even in Lys where an affiliated bank to the Iron Bank – in reality it was wholly owned by the Iron Bank – was how Prince Aegon conducted his affairs with Braavos, nearly all of his business being transferring coin from his account to the slavers in purchase of the Lysene portions of their population over the years.

Sallen met the eyes of Lady Torone.

"And no, I am not here to seek a military alliance against Myr…or the Triarchy. No…" Sallen said with a small smile growing, shifting away from the topic of how well informed they were. "I'm here to offer you a deal that will see you all wealthy and venerated beyond measure."

"Bold claims." Lady Torone responded though Sallen did not miss some of the Keyholder's shift in their bodies. "And what is this deal that would, as you say, 'see us wealthy and venerated beyond measure?'"

Sallen smiled and he drank the rest of his red wine in one fell swoop before he placed the empty glass on the table, his legs uncrossing, his expression shifting to one of serious countenance, his eyes trailing across the interested faces at the other side of the table. "As we speak, my Prince is waging war against the Slaver's Bay cities. By now, moons after I'd set sail, I expect Astapor and Yunkai have fallen to the Prince. Possibly Meereen now too. If not, it will happen in less than a moon."

This…he could see, caught them off guard though only a few showed it clearly.

"That is…unexpected." Sealord Phassolis remarked carefully after he'd shared glances with a few of the Keyholders.

Sallen wondered how much of those looks bore other meanings beyond surprise. From what he could see, some of the faces had been rather…displeased. He could not quite tell if it was because it was affecting the landscape of Essos or if it was because quiet interests some of these families had in Slaver's Bay.

Neither he or Prince Aegon were sure if they had interests there or not.

Perhaps he'd glean on it depending on where the questions went towards. Of course…it wasn't quite to satisfy their curiosities but rather how much more they'd have to offer to avoid…sourness from creeping into the negotiations.

Sourness that could actually see him dead.

He knew that they wouldn't admit it openly, if they did have quiet interests in Slaver's Bay, for any Braavosi having particular dealings in the slave trade, even if it was tangential, would find themselves, at best, ostracised and at worst…

"I imagine so." Sallen said with a thin smile, his mind refocusing as he met the gaze of the Sealord a he continued. "Prince Aegon was meticulously careful about the secondary target of those who also have earned his – and our people's – ire." Sallen said as his face shifted into a more hard-faced look.

"Your Prince has succeeded." Otharys said in grim note as he glanced at the Sealord. Sallen wondered if the grimness in his tone was because of surprise. The likes of Braavos, the Iron Bank, did not allow themselves to go unawares about the affairs of Essos west of the Bone Mountains…or Westeros for that matter. "Myr hired half a dozen sellsword companies in wait of the attack…your attack."

"Amusing, is it not?" Sallen said with a wry thin smile, observing them closely.

It probably wasn't.

They were likely not used to not receive any word about such a large happening, even if it was distant and not really within their sphere of influence.

"Myr is a distant thought presently…as you can expect with this war." Sallen finished and he could tell that they were filing away that comment for later.

As he wanted. If they didn't ask him any further on this today, they would still remember this comment…just as they would remember how vindictive Prince Aegon could be when slighted.

"…Ire?" Antaryon only asked after there was several long moments of silence.

"The slaver Saan was paid by Myr to attack our ships, yes, but it was to the Slaver cities, who we have proof of knowing about the planned attacks prior hand, that our people were sold to." Sallen explained with a hard look.

He'd read the letters from Saan and the grim fates that awaited his merchants and the sailors. He'd rarely been as angry as he had been then.

"Our commiserations." Prestayns offered and there was no emotion or sincerity in his voice as he said so. Not that he expected any.

Sallen inclined his head in acceptance. He continued, the smile on his face not quite sinister but far from friendly and warm. "my Prince has taken offense to that and has since decided that Slaver's Bay is due for a change."

"…Change?" Antaryon asked though from the look on his face, he already knew what the answer would be.

"What better way to revenge at those who enslaved our people because it amused them by destroying what these people cherish the most?"

"You speak of conquest under the guise of ending slavery and the Masters." Lady Torone stated, her voice flat but there was sharpness in her eyes when she'd spoken. Disapproval…? Possibly. Probably.

The others likely shared the same sense of disapproval. He'd have to dissuade them from thinking along those lines even if it rankled at him that they could be so…difficult. Especially if there was more involved in their disapproval.

Sallen shook his head. "No conquest under guise but liberation in deed." Sallen said with a smile as he opened up his body somewhat. "Prince Aegon has no desire to rule over the people of Slaver's Bay when they have long been denied choices of their own." Sallen leaned forward slightly, the smile on his face growing as he trailed his eyes across the faces of the Keyholders and the Sealord.

"Plus…it would be rather hard to rule over these lands with hostile neighbours when one is half a world away." Sallen said with a thin smile, deliberately pushing the conversation towards a direction that forced these people to think of the problems that would be encountered when it came to managing Slaver's Bay.

"No…these cities will entirely be Free Cities. Like Braavos." Sallen said firmly.

"And the previous rulers of these…cities? What is to become of them…in this circumstance?" Joriphos Pranelis questioned though from the look of his face, he already accurately guessed at the answer.

Sallen paused for a moment as he took in the intent faces that peered at him and he blandly smiled, a kind of smile that one would give as if to humour someone.

"Like Old Valyria met its end in the Doom, the end times of the last vestiges of the Ghiscari way of life has come."

"Last vestiges?" Antaryon pushed and it was a question laden with meaning.

"There cannot be liberation if the last vestiges remain in place." Sallen said with a thin smile, grimness in his voice and a heaviness about his body language.

They understood what was left unsaid but still he continued.

"You yourself have found that out from the Free Cities since the Doom have you not? Still now, a century since their heavy defeat, Volantis still harbours beliefs that it is Old Valyria's heir." Sallen said with a shake of the head before he eyed them all pointedly. "No…change does not come without force. This time, it simply won't be the blood of formerly chained peoples spilled."

Some of the Keyholders exchanged looks as a long silence fell.

"And what" Sealord Phassolis began, breaking the silence as he eyed Sallen astutely "do you, does your Prince, expect from Braavos?" the Sealord leaned in. "If what you claim is true, that Astapor, Yunkai and possibly Meereen have already fallen to Prince Aegon, what possible need could you have of Braavos?"

"Support." Antaryon said simply, the rotund man drawing attention to himself and Sallen saw his countenance change from how he'd been before. "You want Braavos' support in ensuring their…liberation." Antaryon expression twisted into a gentle smile, not one of mocking or condescension but one that was almost strangely playful but it was far from sincere.

"Just so." Sallen confirmed with an incline of the head and he watched as the Heads of the families exchanged looks amongst themselves and with the Sealord.

"And how" Garros Otharys began, breaking the silence, "would you foresee us supporting your Prince in his conquests? Coin? Ships? Our army?" Otharys asked with narrowing eyes.

Sallen only smiled at the accusation in the man's questioning.

"We have no need of coin for the Good, the Wise and the Great Masters had it in spades." Sallen said with a hint of malicious satisfaction creeping into his voice, something that did not go unnoticed. "We have no need for ships for we have plenty of our own and, by the time the liberation has ended, enough of the newly freed shipwrights, even if it is generous to call them so given their subpar education and experience, will be able to pick up on the Corinthian art of shipbuilding in the years to come." Sallen said as his eyes swept across the faces of the men – and lady – present.

"Nor do we have a need of your army for ours will balloon to consist of tens of thousands – should there be a need for it." Sallen smiled thinly "After all, the taste of freedom is rather a taste that one can easily grow to want to die for." His thin smile twisted slightly into a smirk "a feat that is rather easily accomplished given that Prince Aegon is an exceptional orator."

"…We see." Lady Torone said after a moment's pause, her eyes never veering away from Sallen's. "Then, excuse me for being blunt" Lady Torone said in an admittedly somewhat disarming smile. "What do you need Braavos for?" She swept her hand across in a beautified motion "You want not our coin, or our ships, or our volunteer army. What is it that your Prince wants?"

"Prince Aegon wants your expertise." Sallen said bluntly as he sat back in his chair, letting a few moments pass as he met the eyes of every single person opposite him.

"Or rather, the Prince wants all the expertise Braavos has to offer to aid these former slave cities. Your builders, your scholars, your tax officers, your captains, and much will be needed to increase the possibility of these cities surviving into the next generation." Sallen said, slightly impassioned as he spoke, his eyes working hard to read as much as he could of these people.

They were remarkably hard to read when they wanted to be, and in this instance, they were certainly trying. Still, he got the sense that they were understanding of what he meant with wealth and veneration…given their own networks in the very sectors that he named.

He continued when none made any effort to speak, though he spoke with calculation and calm forbearance.

"For have no doubt, no matter how much you doubt the intent of Prince Aegon to leave and let these people rule themselves, in a few years at the most, our people will depart from their shores, leaving them vulnerable to enemies who will see them as existential threats given their own…outnumbered status." He said as he swept his gaze across.

Volantis…five to one. Qarth was similar too. New Ghis was not as severe but they too are outnumbered by their slave population.

They would not even have to act directly – they could simply hire sellswords and corsairs to plague these cities, likely seeking to conquer them and place onto them the 'rightful order'.

Or worse case, they'd get the Dothraki involved too.

Could the newly freed cities survive that? On their own? Unlikely.

And as much as Prince Aegon and their people would have no reason to think themselves responsible for these people, after already doing so much for them where no one else has done before – even if it wasn't altruistic, it was still better than they've ever experienced – Prince Aegon wanted to ensure they survived.

It would go a lot easier and smoother if Braavos would be the ones who helped provide the expertise that would be sorely needed whilst their army and the Unsullied provided the martial training.

"We will do what we can to prepare them but a few years are but a blink of an eye and though we empathise with the people of Slaver's Bay, we do not, unfortunately, have the people left to spare to aid them into fully functioning Free Cities…not when Elamaerys has its own needs."

"A gap that you wish Braavos to fill." Sealord Phassolis said as he began to slowly tap at the desk, his eyes piercing into Sallen, calculatingly, assessing.

"A gap that would be in Braavos' best interest to fill." Sallen said with a gleam in his eyes. He continued. "All of you present today have significant interests amongst these sectors. Even family members who are members of the Guilds that are needed there." Sallen stated the obvious as he eyed them.

"Oh…?" Lady Torone made out with a rather musical note to her voice and he couldn't help but think it was as dangerous as it was attractive.

There were rumours that Lady Torone, decades prior to her marriage to her late husband, had been a courtesan of some skill. How much of that was true, their people had not been able to adequately find out about the Head of House Torone.

"And how…would these needs be paid for?" Lady Torone questioned before she tilted her head, her mouth twisting as she spoke further.

"The half of the wealth seized from the…previous rulers shall remain in the custody of these cities." Sallen explained and he could see their interest rising. The Masters were by far some of the wealthiest families in the Known World.

There was scarcely anything more profitable than the slave trade and with the lack of a need to establish an army to protect themselves, a folly that would see them erased, along with their ports being frequently visited as a consequence of this slave trade, bringing all kinds of interest and goods to their shores, the cities in Slaver's Bay were very, very wealthy.

Only some of the Free Cities outcompeted them in wealth and none in the Free Cities, bar the Old Blood in Volantis, had families equal to them in wealth.

"Not only that" Sallen continued as he leaned in a little. "There are industries and mines that are now left…unattended, ready to be sold off to the right…bidder." Sallen said enticingly "For a pittance" he emphasised before he continued "of the price with only commitments of fair employment and fair wages to the locals."

There…

At least that comment should make some of them who are displeased of their lost businesses or shares in Slaver's Bay pause and think. If they were shrewd, which he had no reason but think they were, they'd realise that they would lose nothing but gain so much more with the change in Slaver's Bay…beyond simple morality reasons.

"You offer much." Sealord Phassolis said after a few moments of silence, his gaze never wavering from Sallen.

"We ask much." Sallen said in return as he leaned back in his chair. "Make no mistake, these cities will need significant support to ensure they are strong enough to survive against their enemies." Sallen pursed his lips slightly as he looked upon the Keyholders and the Sealord before he continued.

"Most of the slaves are uneducated with a significant portion of them having been bred into slavery. They will be weak and worst of all, they were easily…influenced. By fear or by a manipulative actor or group of actors amongst them. The Unsullied or the former slave soldiers will not be able to provide the stability these cities will need." Sallen paused for a moment before he spoke again.

"It is why we bought and freed slaves, some six hundred or so, from these cities and trained them on matters of administration and governance." Sallen said calmly, pausing for a moment as he let them digest that before he continued. "Beyond that, when it comes to leadership in business and industry and culture, you, the Braavosi, can help quickly institute many of these things that would otherwise take generations to naturally form." Sallen's mouth twisted slightly.

"Unfortunately for these former slaves, they do not have the luxury of a foggy lagoon to hide their existence until they were strong and wily enough to survive Old Valyria."

There was another long few moments of silence after that, and he saw a few of the Keyholders discuss amongst themselves, something that began to involve all of them, including the Sealord, and it was near enough a quarter of an hour, or at least it felt like it, before any of them spoke again.

"As interesting as all of this…is" Sealord Phassolis began, his face expressionless as he continued to speak. "the fact remains that all of this is pointless should your…faith in your Prince's success in Slaver's Bay prove to be…ill-placed."

"Dragons are mighty weapons…but they are not enough…as we have discovered in the Stepstones." Prestayn added with a heavy look.

"Of course." Sallen said acknowledging the point. "But then, there was not an ten-thousand and more soldiers to be absorbed into Prince Daemon's forces in the Stepstones."

"The Unsullied." Lady Torone said in answer.

Sallen nodded. "The arrogance of the Good Masters is their downfall."

"Deception. Your Prince will take Astapor from within." Sealord Phassolis remarked shrewdly, and there was a hint of something in his eyes that Sallen couldn't quite tell. "And with the Unsullied of Astapor amongst his dragon and his army…yes…Yunkai's and Meereen's chances of resistance dwindle."

"Your Prince's actions, his…unsavoury breach of agreement has ramifications." Prestayns remarked as he stared at Sallen. "It will have a consequence in these discussions."

"I'm surprised you're offended on the behalf of slavers." Sallen said with a careless shrug, his eye still on Prestayns and as he saw that the man wasn't pleased with the inference "If you're insinuating that Prince Aegon will renege on contractual agreements, have no fear." Sallen smiled and it was a predatory smile.

"The Unsullied had been paid for before the rebellion was started." Sallen said as he sat up a little. This had been important to Prince Aegon. Beyond increasing the ruse's success, it was important to make it clear that no deal was reneged or was acted in bad faith.

Reputation had to be maintained.

At least in the eyes of those who you wished to pull into your corner.

"As I said…" Sallen continued, his eyes sweeping across the faces of the Keyholders and the Sealord. "the arrogance of the Good Masters is their downfall."

"Provided we accept that these series of events as you described happen as exactly as you have just described to us" Garros Otharys spoke up, pausing for a moment as he eyed his fellow Braavosi before turning his attentions towards Sallen, his gaze penetrating and calculating.

"…why?" Otharys simply said and Sallen was taken aback by the question.

Otharys smiled thinly, having caught Sallen's surprise and he gestured with his hand as he spoke. "You…your Prince, what he is doing, the extent he is willing to go…" Otharys trailed off for a heartbeat before he continued.

"Half of the cities' wealth will remain. You bought, took in, and trained former slaves from these cities for the sole purpose of ruling…administrating, these cities. Now, you come here" Otharys said as he gestured towards the other members of this pseudo council. "Offering practically all of that wealth and resources just so that we enticed enough to aid those former slave cities when your Prince could have taken that wealth, could have taken those cities into an empire."

"Yet he does not." Sallen only said and Otharys nodded astutely.

"Yet he does not, according to you." Otharys said and after seeing the frown on Sallen's face, he said, assuredly but also with some hint of amusement creeping into his expression.

"I believe you…and in your Prince's promises. What I don't know, which concerns me, is his motivations for going so far. I understand the idea of revenge, I can understand removing the Masters. I don't however understand…all of this."

Sallen paused in his response, taking a moment to formulate his answers, which were already made many moons ago during the briefing with the Prince should the questioning head into this direction, and he put on a soft smile on his face as he spoke.

"Tell me, men and lady of Braavos…" Sallen began as he leaned back in his chair.

"Are you content with the…nature of this world?" Sallen could see the surprise and intrigue at the question.

"Two centuries" Sallen continued "Two centuries have passed since the Doom, a moment in history that has rewritten the fabric of the Known World. Your greatest enemies, the Freehold, perished in fire and brimstone, in the same fashion in which they held onto much of Essos. A rather poetic and deserving ending.

And yet…" His face twisted slightly as he spoke further "so little has changed." He said with significant amount of disgust in his voice.

"Brutality and senselessness rules this continent and ruled it so for nearly as long as Old Ghis has existed. In many ways, it is even worse as the Free Cities, Slaver's Bay, and the Dothraki are all weak in constitution and pointless and are destructive in their weakness and pointlessness." Sallen said with no little amount of disgust in his voice before his expression cleared as he eyed the Braavosi in front of him.

"And the war in Slaver's Bay is the driver of this much needed change." Sallen told them, a small smile growing on his face and Sallen stood up from his seat, his hands now behind his back as he paced slightly. "Prince Aegon sees the opportunity of millions of newly freed peoples with a hatred of slavery presents."

"You speak of a continent wide movement against slavery." Neyessoquo Reyaans remarked, his voice calm but there was a hint of something in his face that Sallen couldn't quite understand as his eyes followed Sallen's movement.

"Eventually." Sallen said with an inclined head as he came to a stop.

"It will be difficult." He admitted. "As Slaver's Bay is fully liberated, the other cities will not be idle." Sallen smiled as he continued. "However, they not succeed if they try anything so long Prince Aegon is there…and they will dissuaded from trying knowing that it won't simply be defeat but it will mean their lives and the lives of their families should they lose which they will be likely to given how much they depend on hired swords and chained swords."

"So long as Prince Aegon is there." Antaryon said shrewdly.

Sallen inclined his head "Which is why Braavos' help will be needed. We will bring these freed cities room to breathe in the next few years with our presence and we will make the most use of it by training effective armies capable of withstanding. But beyond that, they still need another powerful and committed ally in the coming future. Who better than Braavos?" Sallen posed to them.

He waved his hand lazily as he continued. "Of course, we will state guarantees of war should any of the other cities attack the Liberated Cities, however, it takes many moons to arrive from Elamaerys."

"The distance is no smaller from Braavos." Pranelis commented.

"True but you are close enough." Sallen pressed. He didn't want to share that Lys could well be another member of this budding alliance.

There was also the chance that Prince Aegon had further plans beyond Slaver's Bay in Essos but he wasn't sure. If there any, Prince Aegon had not shared it with anyone. But it shouldn't matter in this meeting anyway for the benefits were greatly tipped into Braavos' favour.

He continued "And, chances are, they can be…destabilised from within their borders if we work at it." Sallen said enticingly as he extended out his arms "Something that I believe Braavos would be more than capable of assisting with." Sallen said before he sighed, his arms dropping as he looked upon their faces.

"This is an opportunity that you would be short-sighted to let pass you by. This is not simply about slavery. You are smart enough to see that. Your legacy, should you agree, will be more than simply aiding the end of slavery in the most vile slaving lands in all of the Known World.

Slaver's Bay outnumbers Braavos and its held territories by half a dozen times more people. Likely significantly more. All of these people will need everything Braavos has to offer and more.

Financial institutions, like the Iron Bank, trading guilds and companies, like those in Braavos, artisans and businessmen, you name it, they will need it.

And there will millions of these people who can contribute to the global economy.

Likely, if you so wished it, you could establish rival industries there to pressure Tyrosh, Myr, Lys and Volantis, weakening them whilst profiting greatly and increasing the wealth of the locals in that Bay, all of whom will look Braavos. This is low risk, great rewards." Sallen said passionately.

It hurt him to say it, lest of all say things these people already knew, of all the ways that this deal, this agreement, this alliance, would propel them, and in turn, Braavos, to great heights if they truly bought into this.

It will be difficult, yes, and there were many challenges, yes, but all things considered, it would be a miniscule investment of Braavos. Ten thousand people or more, mayhaps, and some amount of capital, yes, but in return, they gained near enough entire Kingdom's worth of wealth and people and resources.

Unfortunately, Elamaerys was not capable of supporting Liberty Bay. Not the way the likes of Braavos could.

He continued, his voice picking up strength and passion, and he spoke to appeal to their ego, to their pride.

"There would be no greater way to pay homage to your ancestors than agreeing to this and there would be no greater way than to cast away your ignoble title as the bastard daughter of Old Valyria and enshrine your legacy, the legacy of Braavos, as something more, as a father to a Free Essos."

He could see that his words were working on them and he waited for a long few moments as they kept on looking at one another.

Finally, one of them spoke up and of course, it was the sealord. "We will need to discuss this further. Alone." Phassolis said as he steepled his hand in front of him.

"Of course." Sallen said with an inclined head. He was disappointed with this answer but it was not unexpected. He once again inclined his head before he left.

As he exited the doors, he caught an inquisitive look from Arvin and the others and he pursed his lips in response and they understood it for what it was.

'They need a push'

Days passed as he took to stay on the ship in 'fear' of bounty-seekers, days that turned into a week and a day, time in which his men had been busy.

There was not an inn or tavern or any kind of social house that their men did not visit and spread information. Information that even in a city like Braavos, city of three hundred thousand souls, spread like wildfire.

'Prince Aegon Targaryen and his people are liberating Slaver's Bay!

The Fires of Liberty rage across Slaver's Bay!

They rage and roar for freedom, drowning out the striking Bells of shattering Chains!

End the evil Good Masters, they rage! End the terrible Wise Masters, they bellow! End the Great Masters, they roar! End all masters, they chant!

Prince Aegon has sent an envoy to Braavos, to the Sealord and the Iron Bank to negotiate a deal to help these people retain their freedoms!

Soon, you can help millions of liberated slaves and make good coin out of doing good!'

Those were but examples of the kinds of information that was being and laughs were held with the local people, often times enrapturing tales of great heroism and a duty that their people, many of whom used to be slaves, held to other chained peoples and how they hoped that Braavos would do as they used to do many a years ago and help people like them.

In nearly every instance at an inn or tavern or elsewhere, a crowd was assembled and a crowd was enraptured and riled up, and there was not at least one person who did not promise to volunteer to aid Liberty Bay 'when the call came'.

Their fomenting and enflaming of 'public opinion', as the Prince strangely called this way of pressuring the Braavosi leaders, was working like a dream.

Everyone knew, already, that Prince Aegon was greatly against slavery, so they had no doubt in believing that instead of using coin to liberate peoples, that he was now doing it with sword and dragonfire.

By now, every single person in the city knew of them and their reason why they were in Braavos, and of what was happening in Liberty Bay, and there was an excited, almost anticipating air about the city, as people talked about no longer being the only 'truly free city' in Essos.

And it mattered not a single amount, that ships were bound elsewhere in the world, with this news on the edges of their tongues, he mused as he stood, once more, in front of the Keyholders – which included several other Heads of families now – and the Sealord, looking quite displeased.

"We have decided." Sealord Phassolis said and it seems like he was not quite happy to say it. He was quite sure that being under pressure to make a choice was not well received, a risk they knew well enough. It was why he'd on board the ship instead of the estate waiting all this time after all. But, they had to be pushed to make the sensible choice, a choice that they should want to make anyway.

There was a great deal to gain from this deal, far more than Elamaerys would gain in the long run.

The Sealord paused, and paused, for a moment Sallen was worried that he would say what needed to be said.

But he had no reason to doubt.

"We agree that this is an opportunity that cannot be…ignored. We also agree that tentatively, we can open up…a series of agreements" Sallen resisted to smile and it was a great struggle "that is contingent your Prince does manage to liberate Slaver's Bay."

"Of course." Sallen said with an inclined head. "And I would not worry about Prince Aegon failing in his set task." Sallen said with a small smile "He is a man that did not fail to find a route West. He will not fail to win a meagre war with a people from a begone age." Sallen looked towards Arvin and the quill was dipped into a pot of ink.

Sallen turned back towards the Keyholders and the Sealord, his smile growing slightly "Now…shall we begin writing ourselves into legend?"

And as he said that, the varied looks of their 'partners' shining through, he thought to himself…'I should take the long route through Westeros to get back to the Prince…'

-Break-

Late 112 AC – Yunkai

Ser Aethan Celtigar POV

Their march was hard and slow, the towns and estates they passed by and 'liberated' proved to be little distraction. Eight days they marched and more than half a moon has passed since they began their campaign.

On dusty roads and golden fields, they marched, and now through a outcrop of ancient birchwood forest near a crumbling sandstone bridge that passed over a drying river, a river that stretched out thinly on the same path to Yunkai, nary much time was wasted even as they took short turns to rest.

The huge train of supplies that followed their more than thirty thousand strong army, food and water and weapons and much else, including hundreds if not a thousand and more barrels of wet stone powder, stretched far behind them.

Eleven thousand Elamaerysians – with half a thousand archers and the Summer Islanders on board of the fleet – sixteen thousand Unsullied, nearly two thousand former slave soldiers, and four thousand volunteering Astaporeans were amongst the army, with another three thousand non-fighting supporting men and women.

Their forces could have easily ballooned to over forty, if not fifty thousand, had it not been for Prince Aegon's convincing of the Astaporeans that the city had need of hardworking people eager to make a difference.

'Your duty, now as free men, is to rebuild this city and to train hard and train well, for it is on your shoulders that you will help carry the weight of freedom for the people of this Bay.'

The convincing had taken root in the people, he mused to himself, the Prince had too much sway in their hearts for them to refuse such a request.

Ultimately, the Prince took only four thousand men amongst the Astaporeans, telling the many other of the men to train with the Unsullied in preparation should they have need of them.

He doubted the ones that came with them would be much use in the fighting, no more than peasant levies, likely less useful, for they had much of their fighting spirit whipped away. Nonetheless, war changed the hearts of men, he expected that Yunkai would serve well in changing the hearts of the surviving men.

Aethan knew from experience after all. Though he'd been knighted – and blooded – many years ago, fighting in Astapor had been something alike to that of freezing water dropped on you as you lay asleep. Chaos and mayhem had ruled for a night and a day, where blood of thousands had spilled freely.

He'd never seen the like of it.

Whilst the freed slaves had shed blood aplenty, much of the shed blood had been of the freedmen and the noble families of Astapor.

Out of tens of thousands, there were less than a few thousand remaining in Astapor, many of them only women and children.

And Yunkai…

Yunkai would face the same fate.

He still remembered vividly the ease with which Prince Aegon had spoken about the fates of the slavers and their families in this war. That none but the women and children were to live and even then, they'd live without much of their wealth.

The surviving noble class and freedmen and freedwomen would retain some of their wealth, and their manses, but much of it was contingent that they follow the new rules set for them…lest they find themselves subject to an angry mob that greatly outnumbered them.

'The Old cannot be made to hinder the New, lest the Old grow mighty again to make all of our efforts pointless' had been what the Prince had often said.

None of the men protested to that. Aethan had not expected it.

He knew that many of these knights were veterans of the war in the Basilisk Isles or had wished they'd fought there but all were deeply hateful of slavers, so much so that none thought that the way they were going to fight this war in Slaver's Bay was dishonourable.

'This is not Westeros.' Prince Aegon had said.

'In Westeros, we fight within the same rules. Lords against Lords. Knights against knights. Submission and conquest. War in Westeros is a war amongst equals, for the most part, with the same overarching goals and the same codes of conduct.

This is not the case here. They are not our equals. They are not fighting as equals. They do not fight at all. Their slaves fight. They fight with words and lies.

You ask why this deception?

Because they deserve no more. They deserve to come to an end through the means they so effortlessly practice.

Through lies and through butchery, they live and through lies and through butchery, they will come to an end.'

He was finding himself unable to protest against it. Not when the blood spilled of their men was lessened through deception, not when deception and dishonour was solely reserved for the slavers.

The city of Yunkai loomed over the horizon as they stood atop the hill, the great sandstone mountain that lay on its west looked like a misshapen twin of the yellow bricked city as they approached.

And as they neared, they could see with the naked eye the gleaming golden harpy that stood at the top of the pyramid that dominated over the city, a symbol clear as any of the means and ways of Yunkai.

Still, he mused to himself, the city was impressive as they arrived within five thousand yards of Yunkai and its gates. Its high walls were impressive, like a ribbon tied around the bosom of a heavy-breasted whore, and its tall towers and buildings that lay behind it, gleamed under the morn sun like monuments of gold.

On the eastern side, towards the ocean, he could see a few distant ant-like ships and likely there were many more on the far side of the city.

Yunkai had two gates – one at the ports and the one in front of them, the main gate, and, it seemed like their presence was not unknown to the Yunkai'i, for there were three thousand men outside the gates of the city…waiting…watching.

Their army took camp then, on the Prince's orders, five thousand yards away from Yunkai, close enough for any in the city in those towers to see, and the stream of their men setting up camp must have made their enemy wary and nervous, for he could see the gates opening and closing several times in the past hour.

The sounds of the sea was distant but heard, even over the commotion of the camp, and he wondered where the fleet was. He knew that the fleet of fifty or so ships, armed with jar-bolts and scorpions, were not far from their position, waiting as they were on a command from the Prince through the glass candle.

"Huh. So the slavers want to fight then." Ser Maerro commented gruffly as he put down the far-eye, a small scowl forming on his face when he passed on the far-eye to Ser Trytas who took it to eye.

Their party consisted of Ser Trytas, Ser Maerro, Ser Galaenys, Ser Uthrik, commander Rhaegar, himself and of course, Prince Aegon.

He doubted that the Yunkai'i wanted a fight. They would have seen their army of more than thirty thousand coming, a difference to their own numbers that should make any, even the most foolhardy, tremble with wairness.

And, of course, he mused, the fact that the Prince had a dragon, a fact that must be known to the Yunkai'i, a fact that should doubly make them tremble with doubt and uncertainty about whether or not they even stood a morsel of a chance.

"They're no more than a cornered hog stamping its feet before a pack of wolves." Ser Maekar Romaerys said with amusement in his voice.

Just over a fortnight had passed since they began the campaign and by the next few days, they would secure Yunkai and its hinterlands, leaving no chance of Meereen being able to muster an army save for one to protect itself.

For there was no doubt that Meereen knew already or would know in the coming days.

That the Yunkai'i soldiers were waiting on them was a hallmark that with certainty their deception and their conquest of Astapor would be made known to the rest of Slaver's Bay in the next few weeks.

Individually the rest of the cities were of no great concern, the chances that they could hire sellswords that still remained in the region were all but certain bought to bolster their forces, although, truthfully, it wasn't a big of a problem, not when they had a dragon like Mīsaragorn.

The Conqueror had proven long ago that dragons and a small army was enough to conquer an entire continent capable of fielding armies of hundreds of thousands, with all the luck and favour of the Gods' needed to fell a grown dragon.

The sellswords would surrender before they let themselves be consumed in another Field of Fire, though, he could see the other Ghiscari die rather than surrender, once it was known that the war they were waging with Slaver's Bay was one of annihilation, and chances were that they would spare no expense or effort to ensure their survival.

For now though, he thought as he glanced at the Prince, who stared at the assembled Yunkai'i forces with an indifferent expression, such knowledge would not escape, not with the way they put to sword anyone who was deemed a risk.

Which would be doubly ensured with Yunkai.

In many ways, the chaotic nature of their liberation of Astapor had played into their hands, with so many of the noble families and freedmen dying in the chaos.

Only a few remained, fewer still were men. Few enough to be ensured that they could be controlled and their movements managed, even when the landowning – and slave owning – families from the hinterlands were forcibly moved into the city.

"We wait." Prince Aegon commanded after a few moments as he turned to look at Ser Maekar before he looked to the others. "Have the men begin the scheduled rests. I expect we will have our answers come today's close. At worst, by tomorrow morn." Prince Aegon said before he pulled at the reins of his horse and turned around, making his way back to the camp.

And so they waited, and, come the afternoon, hours later, riders of a hundred strong party made their way towards them, the guards dressed in the queer leather armour like that of the Astaporean highborn, and their hairs oiled up in similar elaborately fashions, though, their highborn nobles wore silk and linen dresses with all kinds of yellows dyes. What caught his attentions were the caravans that followed in pursuit of these men, caravans that promised tremendous amount of gold and luxury.

The highborn in silk and linen yellow clothing were the ones who broke away from the party once they came at a stop some distance away. Three of the eight highborn introduced themselves by name, Sraqniz zo Palaq, Dramdak mo Shezzuzn, and Meimdeq na Keez.

The looks on their faces were smiling, as were most of the other unnamed highborn, and if he were to see such faces in a tavern or in a solar, or in court in Kings Landing, he would not have known it to be anything else but friendliness.

"You've assembled a mighty army, Prince Aegon." The one named zo Palaq said with a flattering tone yet Aethan liked it not. Zo Palaq then looked towards the hundreds of men behind them, the Unsullied and their men and the Astoporeans before the man then looked to Rhaegar, the smiling look on his face dropping.

"Much of it through treachery." Zo Palaq said as he turned to look to meet Prince Aegon's gaze, who simply stared at zo Palaq with the same cold indifference he'd looked when he watched their assembled forces, and though his body seemed languid, lazy, Aethan knew it was only for show.

Long moments passed as the highborn slavers stared at Prince Aegon with smiling faces and penetrating eyes, none of it affecting the Prince who simply…stared through them, his body hunched atop the horse as if he had not a care in the world.

"Why have you come?" the highborn finally broke, their impatience having crept into their voices, the light of the dying sun presenting an terrible august air to their fraying patience.

None of their party answered. Prince Aegon had been adamant that they keep their silence for the ruse would be in danger otherwise. The Yunkai'i had to conclude that they were here for opportunistic reasons.

When none of their party answered, unsettling the highborn slavers ever more so, the man named Meimdeq na Keez continued, his voice harsher but to Aethan it sounded no more like bluster and folly. "You will not find Yunkai as easily conquered" na Keez straightened himself out as he sat atop his horse, and he leaned forward slightly, an angry scowl forming as he spoke.

"We have survived countless hordes of enemies since before your sheepherding ancestors ever managed to enslave those demon-cursed beasts you call dragons and we will survive long after the rivers of Ghis have run dry."

"Speak your terms or do not speak at all." Prince Aegon remarked indifferently as he leaned forward ever so slightly on top of his horse and some of the highborn bristled at the disrespect.

Dramdak mo Shezzuzn was the one who ensured none spoke out of turn and was the one who spoke for them. "You are wise to seek negotiations where is much to be agreed upon" mo Shezzuzn said with a smiling face "We know of your troubles with Myr and" mo Shezzuzn said as he glanced towards the Unsullied commander who met mo Shezzuzn's gaze with unblinking eyes, a mark, Aethan knew, of the growing defiance within the Unsullied.

The less Wine of Courage they consumed, the more like men, they became.

"I cannot conceive that you would be so foolish to harm and weaken the army you have gathered by attacking Yunkai, with whom you have no quarrel to settle."

Prince Aegon glanced at Ser Galaenys, Ser Maerro and Ser Trytas, the look on his face clear in understanding parted. None were to speak.

If the highborn slavers noticed anything, Aethan did not know as zo Palaq raised his hand and moments later goods and crates were lifted off of the backs of the camels and from the carriages drawn by their horses "It is why we offer you a gift on your travels to your enemy in Myr."

And, as the crates were opened, gold bars aplenty shown, and the peals of silk and more was set before them, mo Shezzuzn continued to speak though his words were far from the smiling kind with which he spoke before with.

"We will forget the treacherous transgressions you have committed against the Good Masters. We do not know why you have done so" mo Shezzuzn said with forced calmness as he glanced at the Unsullied, the look all but confirming that their suspicions were geared towards the taking of the Unsullied. "– for it matters not, but know" mo Shezzuzn said as he inclined his head faintly, the respectful gesture made irrelevant by the hard eyes and the tenseness in his body. "that we Yunkai'i are wiser and far stronger than the Good Masters.

You will find Yunkai far from the easy prey that proved to be Astapor. For every thousand men you sent against our walls, two thirds will die a terrible death. For every Yunkai'i that falls in our streets, twenty of yours will die by our scimitars and our spears" mo Shezzuzn vowed in a low but hard voice and Aethan found himself clenching his teeth at the challenge issued.

"Of course" mo Shezzuzn said after the pause, his body relaxing and his smiling face returning. "We need not blood ourselves in a battle that need not be fought" mo Shezzuzn said in a placating movement of arms. "The gift that is before you, is only a small fraction of the gift that we would deliver to you. You would receive five times that number. Your men" mo Shezzuzn said as he glanced towards the arrayed men that stood watching not more than a three hundred yards behind them "will be granted the finest bedslaves to warm their beds, and every man amongst them will have ten pouches of gold gifted as a mark of generosity of Yunkai."

"Generous." Prince Aegon said as he eyed mo Shezzuzn. "And in return?"

mo Shezzuzn smiled. "And in return, you will leave these shores for all time. You will also leave Astapor, the city and its slaves, to be reclaimed by the people of this land, us, and you will never return there either" mo Shezzuzn said in a fiery but calm and smooth tone before he smiled and it was an oily greasy smile that made Aethan wish he could carve out of its copper skin. "Of course, you can keep the Unsullied for your campaign against the Myrrish."

"Interesting demands." Prince Aegon said with an acknowledging note, one that pleased a few of the highborn and angered a few others. Aethan wondered if there was discord amongst the highborn on how to approach this crisis. Likely there, he mused to himself. The Yunkai'i were said to be as cutthroat in their dealings as the Volantene were in their politics.

"But I wonder…why should I accept such terms?" Prince Aegon questioned as he titled his head, a slow and small smile making its way on his face, a smile that was predatory and cold "When we have such a welcoming city waiting for us?"

This reaction made some of the highborn Ghiscari unsettled and na Keez scowled angrily and seemed to be ready at a moment's notice to draw his scimitar.

Aethan glanced at the others amongst their party. He saw Ser Galaenys watching carefully and doing so with a hungry on his face.

"You would rather waste the blood of your men on our glorious walls and weaken yourselves against the sellswords the Myrrish have gathered for your arrival?" mo Shezzuzn asked harshly but Aethan could see that underneath that harshness, there was real fear. As there should be. The Yunkai'i were outnumbered in every way possible. They knew how fucked they were if appeasement didn't work. "Do not be so foolish, prince. Let us part on good and friendly terms. The gifts we would levy on you would leave you far less bitter than your attempts to take our city would."

"Yes. Yunkai will not be as unprepared as Astapor was." Prince Aegon said with a lessening smile, his eyes unblinking. "Like a stone in my boot, Yunkai will be irritating to tread upon." Prince Aegon's eyes turned cold, his voice descending in volume as he spoke further. "Nonetheless it shall be removed with but a moment's pause." Prince Aegon raised himself slightly, his eyelids dropping, as he tilted his head slightly as he spoke further.

"And you misunderstand, Yunkai'i."

"What do we misunderstand?"

The Prince smiled and it was a cold, terrifying smile as his hand slowly rose, an open gauntleted hand, and, as his arm was outstretched fully into the air when he spoke. "You misunderstand my humouring of you when I asked your terms. You believe that this is a negotiation when in reality…" The Prince said as he closed his hand. "– this is nothing more than you agreeing with whatever I bid you to agree."

"YOU DAR-" anything, any insult or words of rebuttal, were cut short by a piercing roar that seemed to have blanketed the world, its shrill and piercing screech dug into the ears and minds of all those that heard, a screech that scratched and gouged at the carefully constructed walls of arrogant security the highborn slavers built within themselves, he thought, as he watched the blood leave their faces, their mouths agape in horror and shock and some sense of twisted awe, and the dragon, Mīsaragorn, swept down from above the mountain, his large bulking form, larger than any carrack and larger still his form was than any ship with his wings so extended full.

Heads were stuck to follow the trajectory of the dragon, a trajectory that arrowed towards Yunkai by the sea and the horror at seeing Mīsaragorn made way for dawning horrible understanding, the gusts of winds that washed over them as impactful as the thoughts that they were insignificant before a dragon.

"What are you doing?! This is a parlay! You spit on every civilised conduct!" na Keez was furious – and frightened – in voice.

"We are not breaking parlay. You still breath, slaver." Ser Galaenys said in a gruelling scowl before he laughed amused "And so does your pitiful army. The dragon is simply doing what a dragon does…what it wants."

"That beast is attac-…!" the slaver's died down when the first bursts of flames were issued by Mīsaragorn at the ports, great bursts of blue flames rising high into the air as presumably ship after ship was burned down, rising about the city walls and city buildings.

"Cease that beast! Cease its attack at once!" one of the highborn said in panic, his hand on the hilt of his scimitar but before he draw it out, sharp sounds of swords unsheathed broke.

"If you want to make it back to your pissing city alive, you better remove your hand from your sword." Ser Maerro said in a dangerous tone and Aethan could hear swords drawn by the men behind them and it proved to be the cause of reason amongst the highborn.

"What do you want?" mo Shezuzzn spat out as he looked towards the Prince, a bitter look on his face, though Aethan could see through the veneer of assuredness.

Fear had crept in his bones…in all of their bones.

"You release every slave from your city come the first light of dawn with ten days of food for each slave." Prince Aegon said and the slavers quailed at those terms.

"You're mad!" one of the highborn said horrified. "That's impossible, we'll never agree!"

No doubt they were also thinking about the slave soldiers that they'd would be forced to give up.

"If you don't agree…" Prince Aegon said as he forced his horse to stamp its foreleg onto the dragon, rising as he was to his full height. "my dragon will not simply burn down your ships. He will turn its fire and flame to Yunkai. Your strong and glorious walls will melt as easily as the flesh of yours and your kin will under dragonfire.

Your city, of which you so pride yourselves so much on, will be nothing more than an example. Like Old Ghis and the Rhoynar were before the might of Old Valyria." Prince Aegon's voice turned menacing, the sounds and flashes of burning in the far distance proving to be a terrible omen for the highborn slavers.

"Your city will be turned into a replication of Old Ghis, a hollow city with burnt out husks of stone and ash, populated only with the wailing ghosts of the Wise Masters. That is my promise if you refuse my demand."

Silence reigned for long moments, one that was only broken once another great flash of blue flame and smoke in the far distance made itself known.

"We cannot free all of the slaves. Not the soldiers." na Keez finally broke the silence, his head shaking angrily.

"Every slave. No exceptions." Prince Aegon said coldly.

"What is to prevent you from attacking anyway?!" One of the highborn slavers behind the three envoys shouted angrily and fearfully.

"Only my words." Prince Aegon said as he leaned in, staring into the eyes of the highborn slaver before he looked to the others. "And truthfully…count your blessings that Myr is my enemy and for which I need my army. For it does not matter if you had a few thousand more men defending you. You know it. I know it. Even the slaves who you make defend you know it." Prince Aegon's voice turned chilling.

"Only my words and my goodwill can save you and your families from death. And my goodwill is limited."

The highborn looked at one another before mo Shezzuzn spoke for the slavers "We need more than the time you have given us. There are too many and the amount of food you ask for will deplete our stores!"

It was a poor attempt to try and buy time.

"You have until the first light of the morn and no longer." Prince Aegon said coldly and he leaned in slightly. "Or do you refuse?"

Mo Shezzuzn swallowed harshly before he bitterly nodded. "We have an accord." He spat out "Call off your beast. Prince." He said with a bitter tone and Prince Aegon brought down his arm and the screech of the dragon could be faintly heard even though it was at the other side of Yunkai.

Only when the dragon came towards them, did the Yunkai'i retreat.

They watched the retreating forms of the highborn slavers, the sun drawing to a close, and Prince Aegon spoke then. "Prepare the men. We've pushed them into a corner by arriving sooner than they expected. They know how hopeless their situation is. They will abide by the accord, mostly, I expect. Still, expect treachery and ensure the men do not lose focus. The next forty hours will be vital for the seamless success of our plans."

The chaos of more than a hundred thousand slaves leaving Yunkai was going to be severe if it wasn't managed carefully.

It was why they were camped here, at this hill, away from the open fields by the coast. The slaves would be made to camp out there, looked over by a small contingent of their army and their non-fighting men and women, so that when the time came, their large numbers wouldn't be a hindrance.

Plus, there was also the possibility that the Yunkai'i were going to infiltrate the ranks of the slaves and cause trouble, though that was far less likely than the poisoning of the foods the Yunkai'i might do to the food.

However, neither of those possibilities would matter anyway, not when they took the city and the rest of the hinterlands in short order.

Night came and went, the high alertness in the camp was for nought for the possibility of the Yunkai'i attempting to assassinate their Prince in the height of night had not come to pass, and at the first lights of dawn, the gates of Yunkai opened, columns of thirty men and women pouring out into the sands outside of the city gates.

Ser Galaenys then looked towards Ser Baemond, a Lysene-born knight, and nodded to the horsed man and soon a call went around for a company of a hundred riders to go and escort the freed slaves to the designated area.

They'd also inform the freed slaves who it was that was responsible for their freedoms, gaining a measure of their trust and their compliance in the process so that when the Prince spoke with them, they'd be already aware of him.

They were also required to pass their eyes over the slaves, just to check that they were what they seemed…enslaved peoples. The slave soldiers would be amongst them and they would be the most dangerous of the lot. Chances were, an assassin would be amongst that lot. They should be disarmed, swordless, but daggers were a weapon enough.

More than a few hours passed as the freed slaves in their droves came out of the gates, caravans and cases interspersed amongst their numbers, and by the time noon was passed, the freed slaves had been made to congregate in the area some seven thousand yards away from Yunkai, a few thousands of their army keeping order amongst the slaves.

"Get ready!" Ser Galaenys bellowed, and soon voices from the other senior commanders, and the feeling of anticipation that had been felt throughout the morn increased heavily, something that spiked sharply when they heard the distant roar of Mīsaragorn.

For a moment a shadow dwelled over them, a shadow that was cast over hundreds, if not thousands of their army for that single moment and his gaze went towards the skies, and he was greeted with sight that never failed to amaze him.

Dark metal worn on its belly seemed to draw light from its surroundings, and Mīsaragorn with his wingspan of near enough fifty and two hundred feet glided through the air like a sea serpent, his spiked draconic longer than the height of the walls of Yunkai, twisting slowly as the dragon made way towards the freed slaves.

He'd seen a few dragons in his lifetime, more so in the past few years, particularly Mīsaragorn. The dragon was a fearsome beast, comparable to the greatest of the living dragons, and it amazed him to know that the dragon's age was not yet thirty.

If the dragon lived a hundred years more, it would not surprise him if he was to grow comparable to Vhagar.

Panic had swept through the ranks of the slaves but the thousands of their army that was left to keep the peace had soon calmed them down, as was planned.

Mīsaragorn landed before the backtracking freed slaves, and moments later, Mīsaragorn had stood on his wings with the small looking Prince on his back.

Even from this distance, they could see the gleaming dark armour of the Prince, helmet too, and though he could not hear a spick or spittle, he knew that the Prince was now addressing the slaves.

His hands tightened on the reins of his horse, a quick glance sent towards the army that stood ready. There were six thousand riders now, a third being the former slave soldiers of the hinterlands of Astapor with the rest on foot.

To cross the gap between the city would take several hours on foot, this far away from the city gates, however, that time would work in their advantage as the fires would dwindle by then…at least that was the hope given that their assumptions were based on the fact that there was little woodwork in Yunkai, not enough to cause a great fire to consume the city.

The riders, himself included, would be used to clear the combatants nearest by the walls, the few that survived the dragonfire passes.

A great roar of cheers knocked him out of his thoughts and his head swivelled towards the direction, towards the Prince and freed slaves, and the cheers made way for chants, chants that he could make out, safe for the one Valyrian word…

'Freedom'.

Mīsaragorn's body then moved away from the slaves and shortly afterwards, the dragon, after a very quick crawl, was airborne, the signal that they needed to begin.

"TIME TO MARCH MEN! LET'S NOT HAVE THE PRINCE HAVE TO DO THE WORK ALL ALONE!" Ser Galaenys' familiar voice bellowed out and cheers rang around from the men.

And, as they marched, his hands around the reins tightening further, they watched as the Prince atop Mīsaragorn approached the city, and he could imagine the terror that must be going through the minds of the slavers.

Great peals of blue dragonflame erupted from the maw of Mīsaragorn, flames that consumed the battlements above the gates, gates that were blown apart by the destructive nature of the flame, and the dragon continued to sweep across the battlements, sweeping past like the Stranger incarnate, and even this far away thousands of yards, the sounds of the destructive dragonflame rang like shrieking bells.

It was awe inducing and terrifying, to see what a lone dragon was capable of, he thought as he watched more of the city put to blue flame, smoke rising and rising, clouding the city under a haze of grey and ash.

Though he knew that only some areas of the city were put to torch outside of the battlements, areas where the Wise Masters and their kind dwelled, it seemed as if much of the city had been burned down.

By the time they neared the city gates, there was not a soul that could be heard, only the sounds of dying crackling fire.

"REMEMBER! LET ONLY THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN LIVE!" Ser Maerro bellowed and he was the first of the riders make it into the city, something that roused the men out of their shock, and a roar of voices roused like thunder as the men ran forward towards the gates and soon enough he too made his way into the city proper and he and his fellows rode in the streets by the city walls, ash and smoke dominated for some time before it all cleared up and finally, he could cries and shouts and blade singing, his grip tightening on his sword.

Two days…

"Heave!" was bellowed, and men pulled, sounds of exertion mixing with the sounds of metal scraping against stone.

He watched on with morbid and wary fascination as the huge golden harpy that was mounted on the pyramid of Qaggaz moved with the pulling.

"Gods, that thing is going to roll right out of the city!" Ser Lomerys Romaerys remarked, drawing his attentions and he glanced at the bulky man before he turned his gaze back at the harpy.

"It's more likely going to collapse the pyramid." Aethan said with a grimace.

He was rather glad that they were watching from the small pyramid beside the pyramid of Qaggaz. That thing must weight more than twenty times that of the Prince's dragon, he was sure of it. Especially if it was really completely gold.

He doubted it, of course, but you never knew with these Ghiscari.

"Good riddance." Ser Lomerys said with a scoff "So wasteful a building. A keep for just a single family. Well. And their slaves, I suppose. Still! You could build ten towns of thousands each with the stone of this pyramid!"

That…was true.

"It wouldn't be the worst thing if that thing collapsed." Aethan remarked as he turned his gaze around, towards the city below. The signs of burning and fighting still marked out much of the city. A great many of the pyramids, big and small were half destroyed by flame and fire. The city walls too had suffered greatly.

And in the streets…

The bloods of thousands coloured the yellow stones red.

To call what happened a few days ago fighting, was mayhaps, a great stretch of the word. Butcher was more of the right word.

Prince Aegon's attack had decimated a great deal of the Ghiscari and their dwindled forces, and terrified the survivors, allowing their army to sweep through them with disturbing ease.

They'd killed all of the men by the time night came and by the time morn came, they found that many of the families had perished during the fighting, during the Prince's attack, or during the fire that consumed the prison that many of the Wise Masters families had been held in, a crime that had been done by a few vengeful former Astaporean slave soldiers.

Trytas had hung the men for their crimes and warnings had been issued to everyone that revenge crimes would not be accepted.

Out of mayhaps thirty or forty thousand Ghiscari, less than six thousand had survived, the majority of them being children, with the only men still living being those that had dwelled in the temples that dotted throughout the city, which were to be left untouched according to the Prince.

"Aye." Ser Lomerys commented with a nod, allowing Aethan to wrench his thoughts away and he looked towards Ser Lomerys who grunted before he spoke again. "Wouldn't surprise me if our Prince made the administrators rebuild the city using the stones of these pyramids." A gnarly smile cut across his face.

"Like my brother's writings, the Prince has a taste of symbolism about him."

Aethan eyed the grim and gnarly man with amusement. Ser Maekar's scholar-like nature was infamous amongst the knights and the complaints of Ser Lomerys about his brother was just as infamous, and it was a source of great entertainment.

It was a shame that Ser Maekar was assigned to Elamaerys instead of this campaign.

A great noise echoed around them and they sharply turned their gaze back towards the harpy which was tipped from its base and on the cusp of falling. One more pull later, the harpy fell.

And fall it did, for it rolled down the sides of the pyramids, breaking and crushing stone on its way down, tumbling and breaking apart, one wing first, and the other, before all that remained was a body and a head as it neared the ground.

"Ha! I knew! That thing was a fake!" Ser Lomerys said exuberantly as the sight of broken apart harpy had shown them that the insides were hollow, showing that the harpy had been nothing but a cast.

It seemed fitting, strangely.

The next few hours had gone by quickly. Most of the freed slaves had made it back into the city, and much of their help was solicited in clearing up the city.

Some of the slaves, some thousands, left to make their own way. Many of them were Lhazareen, a people that came from Lhazar, a region beyond the mountains.

The rest though, remained.

Soon enough, he was in the council meeting with the Prince, Ser Trytas, Ser Galaenys, Keller and three of the Yunkai regency council.

The first topic at hand was organising the city.

There'd be some hundred administrators left in this city, tasked to get the economy and a system of governance up and running.

The slave soldiers that had been released by Yunkai had been identified – there had indeed been some amongst them tasked to kill Prince Aegon and as many others, though, once they'd seen the dragon and the city burning, they'd changed their minds and confessed – and would soon be incorporated into the army, and in the city-guard.

This time, only half a thousand Unsullied would remain in the city to keep order.

There was lesser amount of concern of rioting and instability.

The majority of the slaves were women and girls, bed slaves, dancers, weavers and servants, with the majority of the men being menial workers of one thing or another, pottery, jewellery and the like. The rest were eunuch soldiers and servants.

That, combined with the fear and awe most of the slaves had of Prince Aegon, one made greater with the sight of a burning city at the maw of a single dragon.

The second topic was the division of the gold taken, and that would be taken, from the now, mostly, dead Wise Masters and other noble families.

Tens of millions of golden marks were expected to be found within the now desolate abodes of these families, wealth that would be split in half – one half belonging to Prince Aegon and their army, and the other belonging to the regency council.

The wealth that Prince Aegon and their army took, would be, at the end of the campaign split with forty percent of the pot split amongst the army, forty percent for the treasury of Elamaerys, and only twenty percent kept by Prince Aegon.

There was a whole lot of complicated splitting, with regards to how much would be given to the men who joined after the campaign, but at the end, every Elamaerysian man in their army would be a very wealthy man.

The forty percent that would be kept in the treasury of Elamaerys was meant entirely for the settlement and their people, something that no Elamaerysian in their army would disagree with.

Though Prince Aegon only took twenty percent of the spoils, the Valyrian steel and the tomes taken, were all belonging to Prince Aegon, and it would not surprise him if Prince Aegon had enough to make a dozen swords from all that was taken in the form of daggers, jewellery, spearheads and axes.

The next topic was the next stage of their campaign. They could not expect as little resistance as they'd faced in Yunkai and Astapor, not by the time they were at the Meereenese city gates.

Meereen as well, was a city that did not boast as few Ghiscari freemen and nobles, easily toppling more than a hundred thousand, in a city more than half a million in people.

It would be their greatest challenge, to take that city with the least number of deaths amongst their men. Prince Aegon had also considered that enough time had passed for the Meereenese to make scorpion bolts.

It wasn't something that concerned Prince Aegon overly 'They'd have to cover every roof and every battlement with scorpions for them to be effective' Prince Aegon had said in answer, but nonetheless, it was something to consider.

After all, terrible luck had struck Meraxes down and though the Prince's dragon was fitted with armour, armour that also covered its draconic head, a terribly lucky scorpion could worm its way into the skull of the dragon.

There were a range of plans, depending on what their enemy would do, that they had prepared. Plans that once again used deception and subterfuge to take the city from within.

They couldn't force the Meereenese in the same they did with Yunkai. The Meereenese were many times more formidable than the Yunkai or the Astaporeans.

And though they took care not to let any escape Yunkai, via ship or via foot, the chance still existed that their deeds in Yunkai would be known.

They'd fight severely to survive and it wouldn't surprise them if they took brutal measures to control their slaves.

Prince Aegon decided to extend their stay in the city by another week, making them stay in Yunkai for the next fortnight before they marched again. Aethan knew that the decision would be well liked by the men, men who would like to seek willing comfort from the famed women in this city.

Ser Galaenys was however tasked to bring the hinterlands under control. The farms and the estates, taking with him five thousand riders, a thousand of which were Astaporean men.

They'd also double the training of their recently freed men, to get them to be less of a doubt during battle. Three hundred had fallen during the attack, far more than any other losses amongst the army. They couldn't allow such a loss again for their war in Slaver's Bay was far from over.

The meeting came at an end shortly afterwards, and he and the others left the Prince alone with Keller, and, as they walked out of the council room, he was surprised by what he saw, and he felt a little struck by her beauty.

Black silken hair flowed passed her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped pale face and he would thought her sick, if it were not for her vividly red lips and her onyx eyes, eyes of confidence and promised strength, dressed in crimson and scarlet robes.

His eyes went to her bosom, her dress leaving much to be seen, a hexagon shaped necklace framing her neck and some of her chest, though, he quickly looked up again as she moved closer to him and as the men beside him made noises which he ignored, meeting her gaze, which remained unfazed and untroubled, before his gaze towards the guards by her sides, who walked with her.

He and the others stepped aside, letting the woman and the guards pass.

Only when the doors to the council room closed did any of them speak.

"May the father have mercy. Gods, that woman is deadly." Ser Galaenys snorted.

"Aye, she likely is." Ser Uthrik said warningly. "That's a Red Priestess alright."

Aethan's eyebrows climbed. "A Red Priestess?"

'Were all their priestesses like…that?'

"Aye." Ser Uthrik said with a frown "They're dangerous. I'm not sure why the Prince wishes to meet with their lot."

No…he had no clue either. He did not think Prince Aegon would be swayed by her beauty. He'd not seen Prince Aegon act on the carnal side of things, despite being away from the Princess for so long. And, given the way the Prince adored his wife, he doubted he'd see him act on it now either.

"If there is anything for us to know, the Prince will let us know. Now come, lets have a drink, I'm fucking famished." Ser Galaenys commented and soon enough they all left, though, Aethan remained curious about that Red Priestess for some time yet.

-Break-

A History of Planetos: The Alliances That Won The Great War for the Dawns

Chapter fourteen: the League of Liberty Bay

The impact the armies of Liberty Bay had on the War for the Dawns (referred to Twin Dawns or the Two Fronts against the Dark Ones) cannot be understated.

Had it not been for the Libertos Armies, it is certain that Yi-Ti, a land that was in a civil war later found to have been instigated by the High Priests of the Church of the Starry Wisdom, the followers of the Dark Ones, would have fallen to the Dark One in the East, and the cost to the world would have unimaginable.

The Yi-Tish, once their civil war was ended with the aid of General Zoqorro, was instrumental to the final destruction of the Dark One in the East, and it is not difficult to surmise that the Fate of the world would have been dire had Yi-Ti, with all of its tens and tens of millions of people, had fallen to the Unsealed Dark One.

It is widely believed now, fifty years later (359 AC), that Essos would have been overrun with the dead without the Libertos Armies and more importantly without their divine artifact, the Staff ofPaerros, an artifact that is only equalled by the Sword of Lightbringer in divinity and effectiveness against the dark forces.

It is a remarkable achievement, how a once reviled region of the world, a place mired with slavery, corruption and deviancy, had, in only a few centuries, become one of the pillars that saved humankind from eternal darkness and terror.

The origins of their achievements can be directly traced back to their foundation:

The Liberation of Liberty Bay.

This foundation is as much a cornerstone in the national identity of the cities in the League of Liberty Bay as the Red Faith is. After the Regency Councils ended a decade after the Archon of Elamaerys, Aegon the First (See chapter 3 for Elamaerys and its founder) departed Liberty Bay, a several periods of difficulty and adversity was faced by these cities.

Three wars were fought with Qarth and raids from the Dothraki were frequent in those centuries before the Great War, and it is widely believed in Liberty Bay that these wars hardened the peoples of Liberty Bay just as the world and their Red God needed.

There is much doubt about such a belief, just as there is much doubt about the belief that Archon Aegon the First had seen the struggle for the Dawns coming, but it cannot be said that the peoples that had come out of those wars were completely different to the peoples with the slave mentalities of the years, decades and centuries before.

A nationalistic dogma arose in the city-states of Liberty Bay after those periods of adversity…