294 AC - In Meereen:
Ever since Anakin had 'that' dream, his visions have become increasingly powerful, almost bordering on premonitions. He could foresee battles he would partake in and people he would eventually meet. Above all, he has become more attuned to the living Force that surrounds him.
With knowledge of his deep connection to the Force, he devises a plan to incite a rebellion that will liberate the oppressed inhabitants of Meereen. However, he faces obstacles when considering the other cities of Astapor and Yunkai, both infested with slavery.
He understands that a revolt in Meereen could prompt these neighboring cities to seize the opportunity and exploit it for their own gain. To succeed, he acknowledges he must assemble a following, and he knows only one way to do so.
In a remarkable turn of events, Anakin establishes himself as the top contender in Meereen's fighting pits within the year. His impressive feats do not go unnoticed, drawing the attention of prominent masters and slaves throughout the entire city.
It has been almost five months since he first entered the grueling fighting pits, but today was the day he planned to turn the tide. At the largest arena, Daznak's Pit, looming west of the Great Pyramid, Anakin awaited the blaring horn that would signal the start of the battle.
Standing before the revered Great Masters, he braced himself as he paid his 'respects' alongside seven other fighters. He knew that the choice he was about to make could either lead to his downfall or the attention he needed. But to him, either outcome was better than enslavement.
Grazdan, recognizing the difficulty of potentially losing Anakin after his initial victories in the fighting pits, ensured that he was better equipped. He wears armor made from small metal scales, overlapped and sewn onto a leather backing. This scaled armor provides flexibility and protection while allowing for freedom of movement in combat.
With a burst of energy, he sprang into the fray, the cheering crowd fueling his determination as the signal was given. He loathed the realization, but the thrill of the fight, the clash of wills, surged through him like an old familiar current. It felt as if he'd been born for this. Years of isolation and forced servitude had paradoxically forged within him a raw, undeniable hunger for the violence he both despised and craved.
With each fighter engaging in their own individual battles, Anakin executes his plan to overcome them all. Releasing his sword, driving it into the sand, and with his eyes closed, he clasped his hands to his chest as he awaited his opponent's attack.
To anyone watching it would've looked like he was praying, that is until, in one swift motion, he released a powerful force-push, sending his enemies flying across the arena. The intensity of his assault could not be ignored, even by Grazdan zo Galare, and his son Grazhar, who watched from the stands. The swirling sand and flying bodies were evidence of his attack.
Immediately picking back up his sword, Anakin mercilessly beheaded his first foe, leaving the onlookers stunned. But he didn't stop there, slicing through his next opponent's abdomen with deadly precision, creating a grizzly display of entrails. Without hesitation, he charged towards his third challenger, engaging in a brief duel before impaling him with his blade.
Within a matter of moments, he had swiftly defeated three of his opponents, leaving the audience stunned and eagerly awaiting his next move. His determination to defeat each and every one of his adversaries alone was evident to both the slaves and spectators in the arena. As a result, the remaining four fighters banded together and surrounded him.
While surveying the stands, Anakin noticed the majority of the spectators and slaves in the stands were on their feet, bewildered by what they could only assume was a miracle or act of sorcery.
In the center of four figures adorned in light armor, brandishing swords and shields, he effortlessly leapt over their heads and landed behind one of them. With a swift motion, he impaled his sword through his back and out of their chest, resulting in the death of yet another opponent.
Anakin then confidently faced off against the remaining three fighters, quickly throwing one into another before engaging the third. He expertly defended against his attacks, ultimately delivering a fatal vertical strike to the head. With only two opponents left, he used the force to draw one closer and swiftly decapitate him.
The onlookers were astounded by the apparent sorcery being executed by this slave. Meanwhile, Anakin was on edge, not sure what to make of the crowd's silent whispers. The last remaining opponent, who stood alone on the war-torn battleground, was overcome with fear and fell to his knees, begging for mercy in a dialect of Old Ghiscari.
Anakin comprehends his pleas, but they won't help him. Despite his desire to show mercy, he ultimately impaled the man in front of him with his blade.
Looking up at the noble individuals seated at the center of the stands, Anakin noticed their reactions were similar to that of the rest of the audience.
As each moment passed, he could feel the dark side consuming him more and more. The urge to use his powers to destroy the masters in his presence was almost too much to handle, but he somehow managed to maintain control.
Anakin humbly bowed before them, and feigned an unwavering loyalty. A hushed silence fell over the stands before a lone slave broke the quiet with a solitary applause, sparking a wave of enthusiastic cheers from the crowd.
Guards escorted him back to his cell, and he made his way through the holding chambers, the other battle-slaves parting to let him through, looks of fear and reverence etched upon their faces.
Despite the chaos surrounding him, Anakin remained calm as he reached his seat. From his perspective, everything was going according to plan. His ultimate goal was to spread news of his feats today, particularly among his fellow slaves.
For the next few days, Anakin remained in the city of Meereen's slave dungeons, separated from House Galare, and unbothered by this new change in cells. However, he couldn't shake off the fact that he was being imprisoned by the Great Masters of Meereen.
As time passed, his suspicions grew as he realized he had not been given any food or water in the last three days. This wouldn't be unusual if the other captives in adjacent cells were also going without food, but that was not the case. It became clear that a high-ranking noble had specifically requested for him to be deprived of sustenance. This could only mean that a significant amount of time had passed since his fight in the pits and the Great Masters had something planned for him.
As night falls, Anakin finds himself in a damp and poorly lit dungeon cell, lying on a bed of straw.
In an abrupt encounter, his eyes met Qezza's, sneaking her way towards his cell. Their paths had not crossed since his gladiatorial transformation.
Aside from the fateful day he killed the man who had attacked them, the last time Anakin can remember seeing her was when he was confined to the cage in the courtyard. However, the agony of heat and thirst he had endured at that time cast doubt on its reality. From the moment he unearthed his connection to the Force, he became aware of his propensity to see things often not real.
Yet, now, witnessing her presence, only Daenerys had been more dearly missed. Anakin asked how she got in here as Qezza approached with a hush, bearing tidings of dire consequences.
She warns Anakin that his reputation for using some kind of 'sorcery' has caused unrest in the city, particularly between the slaves, priestesses, and masters, resulting in his father's decision to hand him over for a public execution.
"Tomorrow, they want to execute you in the central plaza," she informs Anakin, who approaches the bars of his cell.
"I've missed you too," he quips, eliciting a smile from her.
"I see you're doing well," she observes, relieved that the dark times haven't tainted her friend's spirit. She had always regarded Anakin as a clever and witty boy, but now, she could clearly see how much he had grown, the toll this had all taken on him.
An awkward silence ensues as he asks, "So? What do they say? The 'Great' Masters," curious to know the justifications for his execution, especially from those who had seen him in person.
"They say what people always say. Always two opposite sides. Someone's demon is another's angel. A monster here, a hero there. Chosen. Cursed," Qezza responds, leaving him somewhat perplexed. She had a way with words that often made him introspective.
"And what do you believe?" he probes.
Qezza, however, instead of answering, comments on his nonchalant demeanor towards the whole ordeal, "You seem awfully calm in the face of death."
Anakin chuckles lightly. "Gotten a little used to it," he admits, causing a look of empathy to cross her face. She knew about how her father punished him after he killed one of his slaves and tried to escape.
Not only was he beaten and lashed when captured by the overseers, but he was left out to die of thirst and hunger under the scorching Meereen sun. Despite her earnest pleas, her father dismissed her account of things, scolding her for forming an attachment to a slave. Her heart ached for him, knowing there was nothing she could do after he was forced into the fighting pits.
After five moons, and yet to die, Qezza worried about his mental state. As if to confirm her suspicions, Anakin embarked on a soliloquy about his newfound understanding of the Force. Solitude had made him over-talkative, and he expounded upon the relativity of life and death.
"Had I lived my life afraid to die, I'd be dead," he proclaimed. "Dead. Alive. These are just… states of being. Everything is… connected."
Qezza observed him intently as he kept his eyes downcast. Sensing that directness was the best approach, she boldly claimed, "I think you might be losing it a bit there friend."
Anakin chuckled, then met her gaze. "Maybe I have," he admitted with a trace of humor. "They do say madness runs in my family."
Qezza stood before the dimly lit cell, her gaze fixed on him. She reached through the cold iron bars, her hands extending towards him. Anakin hesitated as their fingers touched and she passed him a set of keys, a small gesture laden with significance.
"Qezza…" Anakin's voice caught in his throat, his gratitude tinged with concern. He understood the danger she faced by aiding him.
Qezza shook her head, a determined glint in her eyes. "Don't. Take them," she managed to protest, pressing the keys into his hand. "I don't know your plans or where your thoughts lead you, but I know one thing: you want what you've always wanted. To go home. So go. Forget about this place."
Anakin's resolve faltered under Qezza's unwavering support. Her wisdom and strength, like that of an elder sister, enveloped him. While Anakin had never met and would never meet his true sister Rhaenys, she had become what he always envisioned in an older sister. He found himself nodding, his doubts giving way to a sliver of hope.
Qezza reached through the bars once more, her hand now gently grasping his head. She leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, a silent promise of support and understanding.
"Thank you," he whispered as she turned to leave, her presence lingering in the stillness of the cell.
Alone again, Anakin clutched the keys tightly in his hand, his mind racing with thoughts of freedom and reunion. However, Qezza's act of kindness had sparked a new resolve within him. As he listened to the fading echoes of her footsteps, he knew he had much to consider - but one thing was clear: he would not forget this debt of compassion. His newly acquired abilities instilled in him a profound obligation to do more for the welfare of the people of Meereen.
Suddenly, a voice startled him from the neighboring cell. He turned, his gaze falling upon a young man, sitting on the ground, who spoke with a mixture of curiosity and resignation.
"Are you the one?" the man inquired, his voice carrying through the dimly lit corridor.
Anakin's brow furrowed in confusion. "The one what?" he replied, his tone guarded.
"The Chosen One. That's what they're calling you. The other slaves." the man explained, his eyes searching Anakin's face for confirmation.
Anakin's lips tightened. "I'm a person, and my name is Anakin," he retorted sharply, the venom in his voice revealing the bitterness of his circumstances.
The man in the adjacent cell let out a rueful chuckle, a bitter sound tinged with despair. "I thought I was a person once. Now…" he paused, gesturing to the collar around his neck, a stark symbol of his loss of identity. "Now, I don't even know what I am… my name's Lucas," he said, his voice heavy with resignation,
Lucas is dressed in tattered clothing, yet his hair, neatly parted and dark brown, is styled to perfection. His skin is fair, and his striking, deep blue eyes are a prominent and distinguishing characteristic of his face. His jawline and cheekbones are well-defined, giving his face a strong, angular shape. He possesses a lean, athletic physique, standing at a height of 6 feet tall. (Sebastian Stan)
As Anakin approached the bars dividing their cells, he studied Lucas, recognizing the haunted look in his eyes - the same haunted look that had once reflected in his own. They were both prisoners, stripped not only of their freedom but also of their very sense of self.
"You've got half of Meereen singing your praises. They think you're blessed by the gods. So, are you?" Lucas's voice was tinged with a mixture of curiosity and hope.
Anakin stood there, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows on his expression. This confirms the rumors, the whispers that painted him as a savior in the eyes of the oppressed. The idea of being seen as a beacon of hope was both exhilarating and daunting.
"If I was, what would you have me do?" Anakin's voice was steady, carrying the weight of a man who knew the power he held.
Lucas faltered, struck by the gravity of his response. "If you were, I would ask what you would have 'me' do."
Anakin felt a surge of purpose swell within him. This was his moment to rise, not just for himself but for those who suffered alongside him. With a sense of resolve, he stepped back from the cell bars, his mind reaching out to the Force, that timeless energy that coursed through him.
In an instant, the bars before him yielded to his will, bending and breaking as though they were mere twigs. The astonished gasps of the prisoners filled the chamber. Even Lucas, who had been so dejected, now stood in awe.
Before anyone could fully comprehend what had transpired, two guards appeared, drawn by the commotion. Anakin's focus sharpened. With a gesture, he flung them against the walls, their bodies crashing with a resounding thud.
Turning to Lucas, he tossed him the keys to the cells. "You asked me what I would have you do. I would have you free."
Lucas caught the keys, his eyes wide with realization. Anakin's actions spoke louder than any words. He was not just a man; he was a force to be reckoned with.
With practiced ease, Anakin shattered the bars of the remaining cells. The once-captive prisoners emerged, blinking in the sudden light of newfound freedom. Standing at the exit, he faced the sea of liberated souls. They gazed at him with a mixture of awe and reverence.
With determination in his voice, Anakin addressed the group, "I will not force you. But I will ask you, as freemen. Who will fight to remain freemen! Who will rise up and reclaim their destinies! Break your chains!"
Lucas was the first to kneel, his voice ringing out in a solemn oath of loyalty. One by one, the others followed suit, their voices rising in a chorus of allegiance to the one they now called 'The Chosen One'.
Speaking in an ancient Ghiscari dialect, Anakin's words were met with thunderous applause and a chant of "Kraz! Kraz! Kraz!" This phrase, meaning 'strong and powerful', held great significance as a call to action for the slaves.
Together, their determined efforts involved a daring raid on the dungeons, freeing all the remaining prisoners, killing the guards, and pillaging the enemy's weapon supplies.
Just as the first light of dawn begins to break, Anakin takes command and leads his ragtag group of men towards the forbidding Pit of Ghrazz. Memories of his past gladiator battles rush back, haunting and vivid, but fueling his resolute conviction that this desolate location is the perfect hiding spot. After all, who would suspect escaped slaves to be lurking around this barren place at such an hour?
Rather than risk a direct and potentially devastating confrontation with the forces of Meereen, Anakin devises a more long-term plan: he and his compatriots, led by Lucas, will infiltrate the city disguised as common slaves. Being no strangers to the cruel bonds of servitude, it should be a simple task for them to return to their former roles.
For the following three months, they take refuge in the labyrinthine sewers, where enslaved men whisper about the possibility of rising up against their oppressors. Within, they had set up tents inside the sewers to house their men and weapons.
On this day, Lucas informs Anakin about a faction of slaves who were desperate for freedom. "Who spoke to you of these men?" asked Anakin, his voice resonating through the dark sewers.
"A slave named Mossador. Used to be an Unsullied before he was sold to Meereen," Lucas replied.
"And you trust him?" he asked, curious to know if they should meet with these men.
"They want to be free. I trust that," states Lucas.
"What do you think?" Anakin turned to Qezza, the only other person in the room, for her opinion.
Immediately following the execution of his plan to send his men undercover as slaves, he swiftly reached out to her. Anakin's ability to initiate this rebellion owed much to her generous contributions of resources. While she was not a fierce warrior like the others, she was a dear friend and had proven her resourcefulness. As a noble woman, she had access to private conversations among the masters and knew valuable information, such as the location and dates of slave exchanges. Anakin and his rebels used this information to free and recruit more allies.
The day she gave him the keys to the dungeons, Qezza had believed their paths would diverge, that he would seek solace with his family. But fate had unfolded differently, leading them to their current predicament. She had never perceived Anakin as caring for anyone but his family, yet something had profoundly altered him. His newfound powers compounded the mystery. Had he possessed them all along, or had they been acquired? Qezza refrained from inquiry for now, recognizing his noble cause and the positive impact he has had.
The entire populace of Meereen is cognizant of Anakin and his strange abilities. In fact, certain priestesses in the Temple of the Graces have become believers in his divine nature. Even slaves, who are typically barred from entering the temple's gilded domes, have found their way inside. They sought explanations for this 'Chosen One,' but the priestesses were bereft of answers. This lack of understanding led to a schism among the priestesses in the Temple of the Graces, with many conspiring to extend an invitation towards Anakin himself, eager to see him with their own eyes.
"I think that every action you take has some degree of risk. Compared to what you've already done, this is relatively 'low-risk'," she advised.
Anakin ultimately resolved to accompany Mossador with Lucas and a few other rebel members to the slave quarters situated beyond the city's walls.
Later that night, the group successfully evades detection and reaches the grain fields in the Ghiscari Hills, outside the city where Mossador presented Anakin to the numerous enslaved men.
Inside the slave pens, while Mossador fervently pounds on hopeful hearts, certain that rebellion is their only hope, the more experienced slaves argue that the ruthless masters will swiftly crush any revolt.
"You are a fool," an old Meereen slave speaks in the language of Old Valyria. "The masters are too strong. I want to live. You saw what they did to those children. What do you think they'll do to us?" The elder slave has a valid point, as everyone bore witness to the actions of the Great Masters following the acts of rebellion.
In an attempt to intimidate them, the Great Masters publicly crucified over a hundred innocent slave children. This was an especially difficult day for Anakin, feeling the power of the dark side festering inside him. If he ever harbored any faint regard for the slavers, it was truly extinguished now.
Mossador was determined to rally his fellow slaves for their cause. He listed off Anakin's feats of strength - defeating the masters' champions and never having lost a battle - and pointed to their growing support.
The masters' champion, Oznak zo Pahl, hails from the city of Meereen and is a noble descendant of the House of Pahl. He brandished a 14-foot lance, adorned with the colors of his house - pink and white. It is whispered that he once removed a man's liver named Scarb, who had dared to gaze improperly at a Meereenese lady. Oznak justified his actions as a defense of the lady's honor, claiming Scarb had 'raped her with his eyes'. No one dared to challenge Oznak's actions, given his uncle's immense wealth in Meereen and his father's command over the city guard.
Anakin, however, was deeply disillusioned by the conduct of this esteemed champion. When Oznak was dispatched to eliminate Anakin and his rebels, he chose a brutal method, not by fighting honorably or by trying to infiltrate his ranks, but by crucifying children to draw his attention.
This tactic succeeded, as it provoked him into a fury, leading him to ambush Oznak and his city guards in a pub. Anakin swiftly disarmed Oznak of his lance using his sword, and then proceeded to personally end Oznak's life, bashing his head against the bar counter until he died.
Inside the dimly lit slave chambers the other slaves exchanged glances before turning to Anakin, who was lost in thought, remembering the horrors the masters had inflicted on innocent children.
His powerful abilities had been witnessed by many slaves in Meereen, and Mossador argued that with their numbers the opportunity to overthrow their oppressors would not come again, and they couldn't pass up this chance for freedom.
But the elder Meereenese slave, who had endured two failed revolts, was hesitant. "I've been through two slave revolts, boy. They always end the same way: the Masters in power and the slaves dead," he sadly acknowledged. The old man served as a tragic illustration of the devastating effects of slavery on a person's spirit.
Anakin, speaking in the local Valyrian language, broke the tense silence, "All men must die. But I promise you, a single day of freedom is worth more than a lifetime in chains. I can also promise you this, if we do lose. And we all die. We will be the ones spared from the aftermath. But we won't lose," he adds, captivating the attention of the slaves from the so-called 'Chosen One,' who emanates a menacing aura of darkness.
"I didn't believe in you when I first heard. But then I witnessed you and your men plundering the neighboring grain fields, not far from here a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember? You are blessed, of that I have no doubt. You know how to fight. We are not soldiers and we are not blessed," the senior Meereenese slave admitted, exposing his concerns about involving his fellow slaves in combat.
"We have no training, weapons," a younger slave echoed this concern, but Mossador remained undeterred in his conviction that they could win with Anakin's leadership and their unwavering determination.
Once the slaves voice their concerns about their inferior skills and weapons, Anakin instructs Lucas and his comrades to unveil their hidden possessions. As the liberated slaves reveal the bundle of satchels from their shoulders the clash of weapons echoes as they make contact with the ground. A crowd of slaves gathers around, hesitantly grasping at the swords.
Anakin's method of equipping his soldiers primarily involved theft and murder. However, their superior quality armor and blades were courtesy of Salladhor Saan, a pirate-lord and merchant sailor. He had considered the pirates' proposition carefully. A fugitive in exchange for weapons - it seemed a fair trade, given the circumstances. Besides, he would have to be used to dealing with morally ambiguous figures in pursuit of his goals.
In the slave quarters, where the men were still undecided about joining Anakin's rebellion, he began to speak. "There are three slaves in this city for every Master. No one can give you your freedom. If you want it, you must take it!" he boldly proclaims, reminding them of their numerical advantage in their fight for freedom.
His stirring address encourages them to take action and seize their own destiny, emphasizing the need for courage in their battle against the slavers.
Days later, Anakin's cause found an unexpected ally: the priestesses in the Temple of the Graces.
In the grim surroundings of the labyrinthine sewers, Anakin found himself engaged in a conversation with Qezza. Her eyes held a glint of anticipation as she spoke, her voice carrying a note of intrigue.
"You shouldn't turn down this opportunity. The High Priestess's aid could prove invaluable," she suggested, her expression earnest.
"Or she could be lying. Attempting to sell us out" Anakin retorts.
Her gaze held unwavering conviction as she replied, "The Green Grace wouldn't do that."
Anakin regarded her with curiosity, his interest piqued by her recommendation. "And what makes you say that?"
Qezza declared, "Green Grace, Galazza Galare. She's my kin, I've known her since I was a child. She's nothing like my father, I promise."
Anakin's eyebrows raised in surprise. The revelation of Qezza's familial connection to the High Priestess added a layer of significance to her suggestion. Of Qezza's kin, it was clear that some harbored a secret sentimentality towards Meereen's enslaved population. While Grazdan, her father, mirrored the icy savagery prevalent among masters, Qezza, her brother Grazhar, and even their mother, though more subtly, denounced such cruelty.
"What can you tell me about High Priestess Galazza?" Anakin asked, considering the implications.
Qezza's features softened with a hint of nostalgia. "Galazza is a woman of great wisdom and influence. She holds a position of considerable authority within the Temple of the Graces and wields significant influence among the people of Meereen."
Anakin nodded thoughtfully, recognizing the potential benefits of establishing a rapport with someone of Galazza's stature and standing. "I will heed your counsel, Qezza," Anakin said, his decision made. "Arrange a meeting with the Priestess." Qezza's eyes lit up with satisfaction, a faint smile gracing her lips.
As she departed to set the meeting in motion, he contemplated the significance of forging a connection with the high priestess. In the intricate web of Meereenese politics and culture, alliances and relationships held sway over the course of events. For Anakin, the prospect of meeting High Priestess Galazza Galare represented not only an opportunity to deepen his understanding of Meereen's religious and social landscape, but also to cultivate alliances that could prove instrumental.
That night, under the silver glow of the moon, Anakin and his allies (Lucas, Qezza, and two other personal guards) stepped cautiously into the Temple of the Graces. The air was thick with tension as they entered the empty grand hall, shadows dancing ominously around them.
Unexpectedly, figures emerged from the darkness, armed and foreboding. Four men, silent and deliberate, closed in on Anakin and his allies. The encircling movement was clearly intended to intimidate, but Anakin sensed their true intentions. These men were not here to kill; they were here to test.
As his companions instinctively reached for their weapons, he held up a hand, a silent command for restraint. With a focused gaze, he tapped into the Force, his fingers curling slightly.
The would-be assailants found themselves lifted off the ground, suspended in mid-air, their hands instinctively reaching for their throats as an invisible grip tightened around them. Anakin's display of power held them in a precarious silence.
Just then, a commanding voice echoed through the room, cutting through the tension like a knife. "That's enough."
The High Priestess herself, Galazza Galare, known as the Green Grace of Meereen, stood regally at the altar. Accompanied by the Pink Graces, who serve as her personal attendants, her presence commands respect, gaze fixed firmly on Anakin.
Galazza's gaze captivates with its enigmatic depth; her dark, expressive eyes pierce with both sensuality and intensity. Her raven locks gleam with a lustrous shimmer, cascading in elegant arrangements. Her olive-hued skin radiates a warm and exotic allure, while her chiseled features, from her pronounced cheekbones to her voluptuous lips, form a mesmerizing symphony. Despite a stature of 5 foot 2, Galazza commands attention with a curvaceous silhouette that complements her confident stride. (Salma Hayek)
With a subtle flick of his wrist, Anakin released his hold on the men, allowing them to stagger back to the ground, their faces a mixture of shock and awe. He turned his attention to the Green Grace, his expression unreadable but respectful.
"You wished to see me?" Anakin inquired, his voice calm yet tinged with curiosity.
Galazza's eyes bore into him, assessing and calculating. "Indeed, Targaryen," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of revelation. "We have heard of your deeds, whispered among the people. The priestesses of the Graces wish to know you better."
A compassionate heart finds expression through her stern yet soothing voice. Clad in a shimmering emerald veil that frames her enchanting gaze, she carries herself with an undeniable aura of tranquility and knowledge.
Anakin remained composed, aware of the delicate balance in this encounter. "But first you needed to see, right?"
The Green Grace nodded, her expression softening slightly. "Your intentions are noted. But the power you wield, it demands… understanding."
Anakin inclined his head respectfully. "Well, understand away."
Galazza Galare regarded him with a thoughtful gaze. "Good. Then let us begin."
She motioned for him and his allies to follow her beyond the temple gardens, the moonlight casting a tranquil glow upon the temple's ancient stones.
As they reached the infirmary behind the Temple of the Graces, they were met by Ezzara, a Blue Grace renowned for her healing skills. The Blue Graces, akin to Westeros' Maesters, were known for their expertise in tending to a wide array of ailments that afflicted the people of Meereen. Different suborders of Graces inhabit the temple, wearing variously-colored robes to denote their functions.
Ezzara's expression was grave as she delivered troubling news to the High Priestess. Her voice carried the weight of concern as she described how the patients' conditions had shown no signs of improvement. Galazza listened intently, her face remaining stoic.
Ezzara's green eyes are expressive, characterized by a lively sparkle. Her hair is long and flowing. Ezzara has a fair complexion that often appears radiant and youthful. Her facial features are noteworthy, with defined eyebrows, a graceful nose, and a warm smile. Standing at 5 foot 4, she has a slender yet athletic build. (Florence Pugh)
As Ezzara saw Anakin and his companions, her eyes widened in recognition. She had heard whispers of a foreigner with stark white hair, a figure of mystery and rumored power. Now, standing before her, was the man himself. Or rather the boy, she hadn't expected him to be so young.
With her message conveyed, Galazza dismissed Ezzara for the night, expressing gratitude for her diligent service.
With a glance at Anakin and his companions, the High Priestess spoke with a tone that brooked no argument. "We will go in alone," Galazza said firmly, her eyes holding a mixture of resolve and caution. "Your companions will remain here."
Anakin nodded in understanding, exchanging a brief glance with Lucas, Qezza, and the guards - unspoken reassurances passing between them. Then, with a deep breath, he followed Galazza into the infirmary, leaving his allies behind in the temple courtyard.
Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of herbs and the stifled sounds of suffering. Patients lay upon cots, their faces etched with pain despite the gentle ministrations of the attending Blue Graces. Anakin observed the scene with a mixture of compassion and curiosity.
Galazza gestured towards the patients lying in various states of illness. "These are the afflicted," she said solemnly. "Victims of Greyscale. Whereas those who rule the city would have them dead, cast out, we give them sanctuary. Aid."
His gaze swept over the afflicted individuals, their faces etched with the unmistakable marks of the disease.
Greyscale, also known as Prince Garin's Curse, is a dreaded and usually fatal disease that can leave flesh stiff and dead, and the skin cracked, flaking, and stone-like to the touch. Those who manage to survive a bout with the illness will be completely immune, but the flesh damaged by the ravages of the disease will never heal, and they will be scarred for life. People afflicted by the disease are often called 'Stone Men', due to how it makes their skin hard and dead. Stone Men are often exiled from society to live in ruined cities in Essos, such as Old Valyria. While extremely infectious, being spread through contact with an infected person, or even via unsterilized objects which have been touched by the infected, maesters say Greyscale's progress can be stayed by limes, mustard poultices, and scalding-hot baths. Though, Septons insist that prayer, sacrifice, and fasting are the cure. It is also colloquially believed that severing any affected appendages may stop the disease from spreading, but this treatment is not always effective.
Galazza leads Anakin to the bedside of a particularly affected patient - a young boy whose skin was marred by the relentless advance of Greyscale.
The Green Grace turned to him with unwavering determination. "In ancient Ghiscari religion there is prophecy of a Chosen One. Only through the sacrifice of many will the world be cleansed of the sin done to the nameless. A Chosen One shall come, born of no father, and through him will the balance be restored. He will invade, kill, and… heal."
Anakin hesitated, his mind grappling with the hidden request in her words. Healing through the Force was not a technique he had ever considered, nor was he certain it was even possible. Yet, beneath Galazza's hopeful gaze, he felt a stirring of resolve.
"I will try," Anakin replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Do, or do not. There is no try," Galazza said quietly, her words carrying a heavy weight that struck a chord with Anakin. He approached the boy's bedside, his heart heavy with the realization of the task before him.
Hours passed in the dim confines of the infirmary as Anakin concentrated, his eyes closed in deep meditation. He reached out with the Force, letting its energy flow through him like a river seeking its course.
At first, nothing changed. Anakin's brow furrowed in frustration as he struggled to channel his abilities towards a purpose so foreign to him. Doubt gnawed at him, threatening to overwhelm his efforts.
He continued to focus, his hand hovering over the boy's Greyscale ridden face. Then, a subtle shift occurred. The boy's skin, once hard and unyielding, softened beneath his touch. The rigid texture of Greyscale showed signs of yielding, as if the disease itself was retreating.
Anakin's eyes snapped open, disbelief mingling with wonder. He had never imagined such a manifestation of healing could be achieved through the Force.
Galazza gasped in awe, her hand pressed to her heart. "You…" she murmured, her voice trembling with disbelief.
The atmosphere in the infirmary shifted from despair to hope. Anakin himself was stunned by the extent of his own abilities, pushing the boundaries of what he believed possible.
He proceeded to heal patient after patient through the long hours of the night, his touch bringing relief until the sun painted the sky with its warm embrace at dawn. After the last patient's skin cleared of the disease, Anakin released a breath and found himself fatigued, he hadn't realized how much this ability was draining from him.
He looked to Galazza, her expression a mix of reverence and gratitude. As he attempts to rise from his seat, she unexpectedly drops to her knees and humbly bows before him.
"You are the one. The one who bears the light's eternal flame. The Chosen One we live to serve," she said, her voice filled with deep reverence.
Anakin nodded, humbled by the experience. In that moment, he understood the true weight of his power - the power not just to wield the Force to take, but to bring light where there was once only darkness.
Across several weeks, Anakin is successful in gaining support from the majority of the enslaved population, much thanks to the help of the Green Grace and her fellow priestesses, spreading word and instigating his desired rebellion.
The methods used in these revolts varied greatly, but the most common approach was to have a charismatic leader who could rally the public against their oppressors. In this case, that leader was Anakin Targaryen.
Upon the suggestion of High Priestess Galazza, Anakin now dons the more traditional clothing of Meereen. In her own words: "Whether in the armor of a soldier or in the rags of a slave, your radiance shall forever remain a stranger amongst us, a grotesque outlander, a barbarian conqueror. Meereen's Chosen One must be a king of Old Ghis."
Underneath, Anakin dons a form-fitting under tunic crafted from a supple, lightweight fabric. Its design prioritizes mobility and comfort, ideal for the rigors of combat and missions. Atop this base layer, he wears a long, open-fronted outer tunic in hues of brown. This provides added warmth and protection. His attire is adorned with Meereenese tabards, long, flowing strips of fabric hanging from his waist. These tabards drape gracefully over his outfit, adding to its traditional allure. His waist is cinched with a wide, textured belt, securing his sword while adding a distinct flair to his ensemble. Completing his look are dark-colored trousers tucked into sturdy, knee-high boots.
The slaves utilized a range of tactics to express their defiance towards their masters, such as destroying tools, faking illness, slowing down work, and engaging in acts of destruction. The message was made clear when red graffiti with slogans such as, 'kill the masters,' were discovered throughout the city.
The Siege of Meereen officially began when a large black flag bearing the emblem of House Targaryen, a three-headed red dragon, was hoisted atop the Great Pyramid, over the harpy.
Soon, slaves from all corners of the city took to the streets, specifically targeting and eliminating any slavers in their path. The majority of the City-Watch chose to surrender rather than defend the masters in the face of overwhelming numbers. The rebellion grew rapidly, determined to make progress.
Amidst the pandemonium and violence of the rebellion, Anakin rallied his loyalists and surged towards the sprawling shipyards of Meereen. With the city guards scattered and in disarray, he anticipated the masters flight and determined to cut off their escape by seizing the vessels.
Upon reaching the docks, they found several ships already setting sail, but many remained stationary under the control of fleeing masters and their guards still boarding.
Anakin and his warriors crashed through makeshift barriers, effectively halting the departure of the remaining ships. Utilizing his powers in the Force, he ensnared the anchor of a vessel, preventing its escape.
Simultaneously, Lucas and Mossador commanded separate battalions to execute the same strategy at another section of the docks. With lightning speed, his troops boarded the ships, eliminating guards and apprehending the fleeing masters. They lowered anchors and stormed the vessels, securing their dominance over the remaining fleet.
Securing Meereen's naval force enabled the rebellious slaves to swiftly neutralize any remaining threats in the vicinity of the city. The rebels, united by their shared desire for freedom, outnumbered their adversaries three to one. With each advancing step, their determination grew stronger, fueled by the fervent belief that victory was within their grasp.
As Anakin and Lucas exited the chaotic shipyard, Mossador approached them with an urgent concern. He confided that Commander Pahl of the Meereenese City-Watch had barricaded himself alongside several Great Masters and Oznak zo Pahl's three uncles, one of which is the richest man in Meereen, inside the Great Pyramid.
With haste, they set out towards the towering structure, only to find it surrounded by a massive crowd of rebelling slaves. Anakin's arrival parted the sea of people as he strode purposefully up the steps towards the pyramid's entrance.
Commander Pahl, his face etched with grim determination, emerged onto the balcony atop the Great Pyramid, the ancient stones beneath his feet a testament to the weight of history he sought to uphold. Below him, the city of Meereen stretched out, a sprawling tableau of conflict and rebellion. Anakin stood at the base, his eyes cold and unyielding as they locked onto the commander above.
"You fight a futile rebellion, boy," Pahl's voice echoed through the square, carrying a warning. "Even if you triumph here, Slaver's Bay will swarm Meereen. You will be left with nothing but ashes and ruins."
Anakin's reply was as frigid as his gaze. "Surrender, Pahl! Spare the lives of the remaining masters within the pyramid, and you may yet see another day."
The defiance in Pahl's stance was unmistakable, his gaze hardening into steel. "I will never yield to you! You who killed my son," he recounts the murder of Oznak zo Pahl.
Anakin's eyes blazed with a fury that matched the fires of rebellion. "And what of the countless innocent children slaughtered by your monstrous son!? He deserved to die."
For a moment, the two men stood locked in a silent battle of wills, the weight of their pasts pressing down on them. Anakin took a step forward, his voice a growl. "This is your last chance. Surrender, or I promise, I will kill you just like I did your son."
Pahl's silence was his answer, the defiance in his eyes unwavering. Without another word, he turned and retreated into the shadowed depths of the pyramid, leaving Anakin and his men poised on the brink of battle.
With a roar that shook the very foundations of the city, the rebels surged forward, charging into the heart of the Great Pyramid, breaking through barricades and shattering the once-impregnable defenses of the pyramid that had symbolized their oppression for so long.
The corridors of the Great Pyramid echoed with the sounds of battle, the clash of steel against steel and the desperate cries of the fallen. Anakin's rebels, fueled by years of oppression and suffering, surged forward relentlessly. One by one, they eliminated the guards in their path, their advance unstoppable. The once impenetrable fortress of the Great Masters was crumbling from within.
Amidst the chaos, Anakin moved with purpose, his eyes cold and calculating. He watched as the ex-slaves exacted their retribution upon their former masters, a twisted sense of satisfaction curling in his chest. Among the killed was his own former master, Grazdan zo Galare, now cowering in terror before the very people he had once deemed beneath him.
Anakin watched from a distance, never saying a word, but a slight smile curled on his lips. Grazdan's eyes were wide with fear, his once proud demeanor shattered. He left him to his fate, knowing that justice would be served by the very hands Grazdan had once bound in chains.
Anakin's thoughts turned to Qezza, his heart a complex tangle of emotions. She had managed to persuade her brother, Grazhar, and their mother to seek refuge before the revolt began. Anakin was grateful for this small mercy, knowing that he might not have been able to prevent the enraged slaves from ending their lives if they had been found. Despite Qezza's efforts to warn her father, his stubbornness had sealed his fate. Grazdan met his end within the walls of the pyramid, a fitting demise.
As the battle raged on, Anakin's forces pressed through the last of the barricades. They cornered Commander Pahl and the surviving Great Masters in a grand hall, the opulence of their surroundings a stark contrast to the brutality unfolding within. Anakin stepped forward, his eyes locking onto Pahl's with a silent intensity.
Pahl's shoulders slumped with the weight of resignation. "No point in begging, right?" he said, his voice heavy with defeat.
Anakin's expression remained impassive, his cold resolve unyielding. "No," he affirmed.
With brutal efficiency, Anakin executed Pahl, crushing his skull against an adjacent table in the same manner he had used against his son. The sound of bone shattering echoed through the hall as he repeatedly smashed his head against the surface.
As the last of the Great Masters fell, a heavy silence settled over the pyramid. Anakin surveyed the scene, the remnants of battle littering the once-pristine hall.
In the aftermath of the rebellion's triumph, as the smoke cleared and the sounds of battle faded into echoes, Anakin stood amidst the ruins of the once mighty pyramid. The stench of blood and smoke filled the air, mingling with the dust that settled slowly over the devastation. He took a deep breath, the weight of his actions pressing down upon his shoulders. The Great Pyramid, once a symbol of oppression and power, now laid in shambles.
Stepping out of the entrance, Anakin emerged into the blinding light of the sun, greeted by a sea of people awaiting him outside. The silence was palpable, every eye fixed upon him, a mix of hope and awe reflected in their gazes.
Raising his hands, Anakin called upon the Force, feeling its dark currents surge through him. With a gesture of his hands, he caused the towering harpy sculpture atop the Great Pyramid to crumble, its fragments cascading to the ground in a dramatic display of power.
This act, both symbolic and prophetic, offered a vision of brighter times ahead, a new era free from the chains of slavery and oppression. The entire city watched in reverence, convinced that Anakin was the prophesized 'Chosen One'. Their devotion to him was absolute, their belief in his destiny unwavering.
But as Anakin observed the landscape of destruction and victory, a profound disquiet gnawed at his soul. He grappled with the reality that numerous lives, not just those of combatants but also innocents, had been sacrificed to attain this victory. The streets were littered with the remnants of the fallen, their silent testimonies a stark reminder of the cost of their freedom.
For a moment, Anakin pondered deeply if this was indeed the correct path to follow. The faces of the dead and the cries of the mourning weighed on his conscience. However, the jubilant slaves who had ripped their collars off, their faces alight with newfound hope and freedom, pulled him from his dark reverie. He put these thoughts aside, focusing instead on the present moment and the people who now looked to him as their savior.
Walking down the steps of the Great Pyramid, Anakin was flanked by children and his loyal guards. Their voices rose in unison, a powerful chant of "Kraz! Kraz! Kraz!" echoing through the streets.
This moment marked the peak of Anakin's experience with the dark side, a culmination of the rage and hatred that had fueled his actions. The deaths of those he despised had brought him here, to the apex of power and influence. Yet, beneath the surface, a quiet turmoil simmered, the seeds of doubt and regret beginning to take root.
As Anakin led the jubilant crowd, their cheers ringing in his ears, he couldn't shake the feeling that this victory, as sweet as it was, came at a profound cost. But for now, in this fleeting moment of triumph, he allowed himself to bask in the adulation of the people, the 'Chosen One' who had brought them out of darkness and into the light.
"Remind me, Mossador, how many children did the Great Masters crucify?" Anakin asked the ex-Unsullied, now a dependable commander.
In a matter-of-fact tone, Mossador responds, "163."
"Yes, that was it," Anakin remarks, turning over to Lucas before giving him a signal.
Mossador's heart skipped a beat as he observed Anakin's eyes in the dim light of the setting sun. It was just a fleeting moment, but he was almost certain he had seen them briefly flash yellow - a hue that sent a shiver down his spine. Unsure of what to make of this startling observation, he discreetly glanced around, but no one else seemed to have noticed. Anakin remained composed, his expression unreadable as he conversed with their companions.
Lucas took charge and with a subtle gesture, he gathered their men, who nodded in silent understanding. Mossador watched as Lucas's determined gaze met each pair of eyes, his unspoken command clear.
"We're moving," Lucas announced to his men, his voice carrying authority. The men obeyed without question, falling into step behind him as they made their way towards a different location.
Mossador trailed behind, his thoughts racing with questions and unease. What had he truly seen in Anakin's eyes? Was it a trick of the light, or something more ominous? He couldn't shake the feeling that they were treading in dangerous territory - a feeling that intensified with each step away from Anakin's presence.
295 AC - In Meereen:
As it turned out, laying siege to an entire city is significantly easier than the subsequent challenges of leading and governing, a role that Anakin truly never wanted.
He was hailed as a hero and savior by the freedmen in Meereen, who welcomed him as their leader with open arms and he wasted no time in issuing a command to pardon the city-guards and soldiers who had surrendered during the city's overthrow. This act gave them the opportunity to serve under his rule.
Despite some Great Masters managing to escape the city during the siege, more than three-hundred were captured and being guarded by the new city guards, awaiting Anakin's judgment.
He remained unwavering in his decision to punish the Great Masters for their cruel act of crucifying innocent children in an attempt to scare him during the early days of the uprising.
As the Meereenese slave masters cried out in agony, Anakin's troops impaled them on crosses and positioned their hands on poles along the mountainside as a guide. The piercing cries of the crucified echoed through the city, causing terror among the citizens. A total of 163 Great Masters were crucified, one for each slave child they had brutally murdered.
After removing much of the city's nobility and ruling elite, a void of power was left behind and only Anakin possessed the necessary qualities to fill this void. He was the driving force behind the rebellion, and his supporters believed he had a higher purpose beyond liberating slaves.
However, he had no practical knowledge of governing, and as a result, chaos swept through the city. There was an increase in crime and violence in the streets.
In response, Anakin took on a regal persona, declaring himself the King of Meereen.
He dressed accordingly, donning a deep v-neck, dark gray outer vest surcoat with flared leg openings and a rear slit. He paired it with a burgundy knee-length undertunic and matching pants, along with mismatched gloves for his left and right hands. A brown belt held his castle-forged steel sword, featuring a golden grip, diamond-shaped pommel, and no crossguard. To complete his look, he wore gray chest armor and shoulder plates decorated with a custom emblem that he had designed himself. This emblem, a six-pointed star with stylized wings enclosed in a circular ring, was one of the many symbols he had seen in his dreams.
Anakin takes up residence in the Great Pyramid of Meereen. The colossal structure stands as his administrative hub, towering at an impressive 800 feet (approximately 241 meters) from its vast square base to its soaring peak.
The pyramid's foundations are robust and expansive, bearing the weight of the immense structure above. The interior walls are three times thicker than any castle's curtain walls. The servants' steps, concealed within the thick brick walls, provide the quickest ascent and descent. These narrow, steep, and straight stairs are hidden within the thick brick walls. The walls in the heart of the pyramid are eight feet thick, while the outer walls measure a staggering thirty feet in thickness. These walls serve to muffle the city's commotion and keep the heat at bay, resulting in a cool and dim interior. The pyramid's main doors remain closed and barred at sunset, only opening at the break of dawn the following day.
This monumental structure was modeled after the Great Pyramid of Ghis. In line with its ancient counterpart, the pyramid boasts thirty-three levels, a number deemed sacred by the gods of Ghis. Despite Meereen's numerous pyramids, none can match the height of this grand edifice.
Within its vast depths, the ground floor houses spacious stables, stalls, and storerooms. Along the western walls, noble steeds, sturdy mules, and tireless donkeys reside in the stables. The eastern stables are reserved for magnificent elephants.
Ascending to the second level reveals the armory, where formidable weapons and gleaming armor are meticulously stored. A martial ambiance permeates the third level, hosting a dedicated training hall where warriors hone their skills in preparation for battle.
Amidst the pinnacle of the towering pyramid, on its 33rd floor lies the private chambers of King Anakin Targaryen. Bathed in verdant greenery and the whisper of fragrant pools, his chambers are shielded by low brick parapets from the distant world below. Despite its lofty heights, the king's chambers remains a sanctuary shrouded in darkness, its thick brick walls (each measuring an imposing eight feet in depth) are void of windows, bar the balcony. Massive beams hewn from ancient black oak soar above, supporting the cavernous ceiling.
Deep within the pyramid's core, on the 16th and 17th levels, a suite of chambers serves as the dwelling of the loyal allies and servants of King Anakin. Enclosed by formidable brick walls, these floors provide residence for those serving within the Great Pyramid
Thirty-two levels high, the regal audience chamber (or hall) commands a presence. One level below the King's opulent chambers, the grandeur echoes through the majestic staircase of polished marble. Within its soaring ceiling and purple marble walls, chandeliers flicker amidst marble pillars, casting ethereal shadows. Adorning the walls was a tapestry depicting Anakin's rise to power, from his origins as a gladiator in Meereen's fighting pits to his current position as King. The ambiance of the throne room reflected his desire to rule with strength and justice, befitting a noble king. Guards stand sentinel, their backs braced against the pillars.
He sits upon a plain ebony bench that he has made his throne, having broken up the previous throne of gilded wood carved in the shape of a harpy. It is situated at the center of the chamber and overlooks a small pool.
Nestled beneath the towering presence of the pyramid, its ground-level base permeates with a hushed silence and a glow of dust and shadows. Within the confines of the ground level walls, echoes resonate through grand arches adorned with vibrant bricks. The space transforms into a hub for animals, with stalls and storerooms bustling with activity. Along the western expanse, noble steeds including Anakin's white mare graze gracefully, while in the eastern recesses, elephants stand in their majestic splendor. However, presently, only three of these creatures reside within the Pyramid's hallowed grounds.
Beneath the pyramid's structure lies a labyrinthine subterranean complex. Ancient cisterns quenched the thirst of the past, while sinister dungeons and macabre torture chambers painted a chilling canvas.
At its core, the pit in the Great Pyramid, a chasm of 40 feet in depth, once served as a prison holding 500 souls captive. Great Masters of times long past imprisoned countless within its desolate depths. However, Anakin heralds a new era, envisioning an alternative purpose for this shadowy abyss. Dungeons and torture chambers, grim relics of a bygone era, cling to the pit's periphery.
Following Anakin's Siege of Meereen, many wealthy slaver families were spared, with the exception of the 163 they had provided for crucifixion. However, the more middle-class families were subjected to massacres, rapes, and the destruction of their homes during the city's siege.
Many suffered in poverty as brothels became prevalent and famine struck. Some even resorted to voluntarily returning to slavery in order to have access to food. Meanwhile, the former slaver families kept their former slaves as 'servants' but provided minimal pay and left the weakest members (such as the disabled and elderly) to fend for themselves on the streets.
When Qezza witnessed the chaos in the poorer areas of the city, she urged Anakin to deploy his forces and restore order, reestablishing a City-Watch. She, in many ways, compelled him to become king.
A month into his rule, from the Great Pyramid, Anakin stood with a sense of authority, his eyes fixed on the Targaryen banner billowing in the wind, where a huge bronze harpy once stood at the apex.
By bearing this symbol, he hopes to gain the attention of his family members, Viserys and Daenerys, wherever they may be in Essos. He is cautious, however, as he remembers Ser Willem's warning that the Targaryen house was always under threat.
In the grand audience chamber, an ex slave trader Hizdahr zo Loraq and his 'manservant' approach, seeking an audience with Anakin, who sits on the ebony throne with Qezza standing by his side.
Hizdahr's most notable features include sharp, angular features. His complexion is a light-dark shade, reflecting his origins from the city of Meereen in Slaver's Bay. He is adorned in elegant and ornate garments, which signify his status as a wealthy and influential figure in Meereenese society. Standing at 6 foot 1, his demeanor is typically composed and calculated, embodying the personality of a diplomatic and politically astute individual. (Joel Fry)
The manservant addresses Anakin in Valyrian, introducing Hizdahr. "The noble Hizdahr zo Loraq begs an audience with the king." he says.
Anakin responds in Valyrian, "The noble Hizdahr zo Loraq can speak to me himself."
The manservant steps back, and Hizdahr moves forward, bowing before him. "My King. Mine is one of the oldest and proudest families in Meereen," he says.
Anakin replies condescendingly, "I suppose I should be honored to receive you."
Hizdahr informs him, "My father, one of Meereen's most respected and beloved citizens, oversaw the restoration and maintenance of its greatest landmarks. This pyramid included."
Anakin acknowledges, "For that, he has my gratitude. I should be honored to meet him."
Hizdahr reveals, "You have, Your Grace. You crucified him. I pray you'll never live to see a member of your family treated so cruelly."
Anakin's false smile fades, and his eyes scrutinize Hizdahr. "Your father murdered innocent children," he replies with venom.
Ever since the Siege of Meereen, he has been consumed by the growing influence of the dark side, a certain aspect of his being becomes driven to rid himself of Hizdahr on the spot, both because of who he is and the actions of his family, but he withheld these thoughts.
"My father spoke out against crucifying those children. He decried it as a criminal act, but was overruled. Is it justice to answer one crime with another?" Hizdahr questions the king's sense of justice.
"I am sorry you no longer have a father, but my treatment of the masters was no crime. You'd be wise to remember that," Anakin responds.
Hizdahr sighs in resignation, "What's done is done. You are the king and I am a servant of Meereen. A servant who does not wish to see its traditions eradicated."
Anakin asks, "And what traditions do you speak of?"
"The tradition of funeral rite. Proper burial in the Temple of the Graces," Hizdahr lamented, "My father and 162 noble Meereenese are still nailed to those posts, carrion for vultures, rotting in the sun." He suddenly kneels before Anakin and implores, "Your Grace, I ask that you order these men taken down so that they might receive proper burials."
Anakin responded with genuine curiosity, "And what of the slave children these noble Meereenese crucified? They were rotting in the sun as well. Would you have begged me for their right to a proper burial?"
He knew from his own experiences that not all slave owners were cruel. Qezza and her brother were proof enough of that.
"Your Grace, I cannot defend the actions of the masters. I can only speak to you as a son who loved his father. Let me take his body down. Let me have him brought to the temple and buried with dignity so that he might find peace in the next world," Hizdahr begged.
Anakin relented, as the crucified masters had served their purpose by this point. "Bury your father, Hizdahr zo Loraq," he permitted.
"Thank you, my king," Hizdahr said before leaving the chambers with his manservant.
Anakin, wearied, asked, "How many more?"
"There are 212 supplicants waiting, Your Grace," Qezza answered with a hint of sarcasm.
"212?!" he echoed with a look of exhaustion on his face as he glanced back at Qezza who shrugged. "Send the next one in," he said.
In Anakin's thoughts, a dragon's whispers taunt, dubbing him weak, for sparing Hizdahr and lacking the foresight to anticipate the impending chaos of his rebellion. This imaginary boogeyman persistently pushes him towards the dark side, and he is determined to disprove it.
Two months later, once again, Anakin is sitting on the throne listening to his new people's problems. This time an elderly man named Fennesz came before him in the audience chamber.
In Valyrian, Qezza introduced Anakin, "You stand before Anakin Targaryen, King of Mereen, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men. Breaker of Chains and The Chosen One."
Anakin cast an unamused glance at Qezza, who responded with a discreet grin. It was clear that he was not a fan of the numerous titles that have been bestowed upon him.
"Thank you for seeing me, your grace. My name is Fennesz. I can speak the common tongue if you wish," the elderly man addressed Anakin respectfully.
"You speak it very well," Anakin commended.
Fennesz continued, "Before you freed me, I belonged to Master Mighdal. I was tutor to his children. I taught them languages and history. They know a great deal about your family because of me. Little Calla is only seven, but she admires you very much."
"I hope I can prove worthy of her admiration. What can I do for you?" inquired Anakin of the former slave.
"When you took the city, the children begged me not to leave the house. But Master Mighdal and I agreed that I must. So I lost my home. Now I live on the streets," Fennesz narrated his plight since the new king's ascent.
"I have outfitted mess halls to feed all former slaves and barracks to shelter them," Anakin informed him.
"I do not mean to offend, your grace. I went to one of these places. The young prey on the old. Take what they want and beat us if we resist," Fennesz reveals the disturbing conditions plaguing the city.
"They will be made safe again in short order my friend, this I promise you," Anakin assured him.
"Even if they are safe, who would I be there? What purpose would I serve? With my master, I was a teacher. I had the respect and love of these children," the former slave lamented, causing Anakin to pause expectantly.
"What is it that you want from me?" he inquired resolutely.
"Your grace, I ask you to let me sell myself back to Master Mighdal," Fennesz pleaded, desperate for stability.
This request jarred Anakin, who had always despised being a slave and assumed everyone else did as well. "You want to return to a man who owned you, like a goat or a chair?" Anakin asked incredulously.
Fennesz implored him to comprehend. "Please, your grace, the young may rejoice in the new world you've built for them. But for those of us too old to change there is only fear and squalor. I am not alone. There are many outside waiting to beg the same-" he began, but Anakin interrupted him.
"I did not take this city to preside over the injustice I fought to destroy. I took it to bring people freedom. But freedom means making your own choices. Go, run back to your master. I will allow you to sign a contract with them. It may not cover a period lasting longer than a year," Anakin responded fervently.
"Thank you, Your Grace. Thank you," the former slave bowed his head, then turned and slowly exited the audience chamber.
As Fennesz predicted, this scenario repeats itself several times, with other people requesting similar arrangements.
Later that afternoon, Anakin's spirits are low and he expresses disappointment that his efforts to free the slaves of Meereen have only resulted in him overseeing the same injustices he aimed to eradicate.
In his chambers, Lucas and Mossador inform him that Meereen's navy - which consists of 93 ships - have all been accounted for.
They are currently holding a meeting in the confined council room located in the King's private quarters, which offers a perfect vantage point over the city.
Anakin's small counsel is composed of his most trusted and useful allies, or at least he is hoping they are trustworthy. Consisting of: Hizdahr zo Loraq (representing the former Great Masters), Mossador (representing the freedmen of Meereen), Lucas (now commander of the City-Watch), and Qezza (serving as an advisor).
Shortly after allowing Hizdahr to conduct the burial rites for his family and the other Great Masters, Anakin observed a noticeable decline in dissension among the remaining masters. Both him and Qezza acknowledged the shrewd political instincts of the former slave trader and after careful deliberation, they decided to grant him a seat on their inner council. While Qezza praised his invaluable contributions to the city's stability, Anakin maintained a trace of skepticism due to Hizdahr's history as a slaver.
Anakin's excitement over having successfully seized as many Meerenese ships as they could is short-lived as Lucas informs him of a worrying development in Meereen.
According to Lucas, the former Great Masters who fled during the city's revolt have been providing financial backing to the Sons of the Harpy, a covert rebel faction that opposes his rule in Meereen.
This group is composed of members of the slaver class and is named after the harpy, the symbol of the slave-owners in Ghiscari cities like Slaver's Bay and the former Ghiscari Empire. In order to conceal their true identities, they wear elaborate masks featuring horned visages resembling harpies.
"Do we know where the masters have fled to?" Anakin inquires.
"My guess. Volantis," the Commander of the City-Watch added. Lucas, an early witness to the Sons' disruptive behavior in the city, had noticed after defeating one, a striking similarity between the markings etched on their faces and those worn by slaves in Volantis.
"They fled to Volantis? Then… would that mean Slaver's Bay is unaware of my ascent?" Anakin pondered out loud, wondering the implications of this news.
"I wouldn't say unaware, as much as uninformed," Qezza interjects, revealing the general perception of Anakin in the region. "Seizing as many ships and messenger-ravens as you did has slowed the spreading of news. The masters who fled to Volantis are probably the first to speak of you."
"We need to shut down the Sons of the Harpy here before they reach the rest of Slaver's Bay," said Anakin.
Hizdahr proposes they negotiate a truce with the Sons of the Harpy. "May I suggest some concessions," he adds.
Anakin arched an eyebrow. "Concessions?"
"Politics is the art of compromise, Your Grace," Hizdahr reasoned.
Anakin retorted, "I can be an aggressive negotiator."
"Of course. Still, it's easier to rule happy subjects than angry ones," Hizdahr persists.
"I don't expect the Great Masters to be happy. Slavery made them rich, I ended slavery," reasons Anakin.
Hizdahr clarified, "They do not ask for the return of slavery. They ask for the re-opening of the fighting pits."
Anakin frowned. "The fighting pits? Where slaves fought slaves to the death?"
"In the new world that you've brought to us, free men would fight free men," Hizdahr explained. "The pit fighters that you liberated plead for this opportunity. Bring some here and ask them yourself."
Anakin hesitated, a hint of personal history coloring his reaction. "No fighting pits," he declared.
Hizdahr pressed on. "Opening them would show the people of Meereen that you respect their traditions."
Anakin grew irritated, memories of being forced to kill innocent men coming to the surface before he barked, "How many times must I say no before you understand!? I'm not a politician! I'm a king."
He turned to Qezza, who appeared startled by his outburst. After a moment's pause, he sighed and uttered, "I will consider your proposal. For now, I have another idea."
Moving from the subject, Anakin harbors different plans. He presents an idea to the small council, suggesting that he purchase the Unsullied army from the Good Masters in Astapor to prevent them from being used against him.
Hizdahr is doubtful of this plan, citing his reputation against slavery. However, Lucas interjects and points out that Anakin's reputation in Slaver's Bay is still largely a mystery. And that by establishing stability in the city at the rate he has, his legitimacy will be recognized by neighboring cities.
In just three months of his reign, Anakin has already made significant changes to Meereen's economy. The city's main exports have shifted from slaves and gold to packaged medications and crops.
Qezza, who had initially questioned Anakin's interest in these resources, is now in awe after he revealed technical plans for a revolutionary invention he has been working on: a steam engine.
He explains that this machine could be used to power cotton mills, pump water, and even propel large ships. Qezza, who has always recognized Anakin's intelligence, is impressed to see it being applied in the real world.
Anakin is cognizant of the squalid conditions that fomented his rebellion. History has shown that revolts occur more rapidly when not only slaves but also the general populace are deprived of basic necessities like food, water, and sanitation. To address this, he plans to use the steam engine to pump water and irrigate barren farmland, aiming to substantially increase crop yield. His belief was that providing sustenance and improving living standards would foster a thriving community less inclined towards uprising.
With the implementation of the steam engine, Meereen can slowly transition its population to factory and mining jobs, resulting in a happier and larger middle-class as they are able to consume more goods. Though this transformation will take some time, Anakin's innovative mind is sure to bring about positive change for the city.
Anakin takes both opinions from Hizdahr and Lucas into consideration and decides that if he is to move forward with this plan, he must leave for Astapor as soon as possible.
Together with Lucas and Hizdahr, as his ambassadors, they prepare an envoy of 500 men who will accompany them when they sail to Astapor and purchase the army of Unsullied.
Anakin is entrusting Mossador and Qezza to manage the city in his absence. Despite his doubts about Mossador's ability to handle political matters, he trusted Qezza with such things and didn't intend to be away for too long, as the Sons of the Harpy remained a looming threat.
On the eve before his departure, Anakin is met by Lucas in his chambers, where they discuss his intentions to acquire slave soldiers from Astapor.
"The Unsullied are a means to an end. Once I own them, these men will be released," Anakin clarifies.
Lucas responds, "They're not men. Not anymore. I urge you to reconsider releasing them."
Anakin ponders his decision as he considers the potential benefits of owning an army of slaves. He acknowledges that the city is in dire need of security and that removing the Unsullied from the market would prevent them from being used against him.
"Do you think these slaves will have better lives serving the Good Masters and men like them or serving you? You'll be fair to them. You won't mutilate them to make a point. You'll see they're properly fed and sheltered. A great injustice has been done to them. Closing your eyes will not undo it," Lucas argues, before leaving the room.
That night, as Anakin laid in bed, he was struck by a vivid and unsettling dream. In his restless slumber, the scene unfolded before him with striking clarity: He stood atop the lofty ramparts of Meereen, the city he had vowed to safeguard.
The air was thick with tension, and the faint sounds of marching feet echoed in the distance. From the horizon, a seemingly endless sea of Unsullied warriors emerged, their faces stoic behind polished helmets, their spears gleaming ominously in the sunlight. The Unsullied army stretched as far as the eye could see, their disciplined ranks advancing relentlessly towards the city walls.
Anakin's heart raced as he grasped the magnitude of the threat facing Meereen. He watched helplessly as the Unsullied surged forward, breaching the outer defenses with ruthless efficiency. The clash of steel against steel reverberated through the air as Meereen's defenders fought valiantly to hold their ground.
He raced through the labyrinthine streets of the city, witnessing scenes of chaos and despair. Friends he had come to know lay lifeless, citizens fled in panic, their faces etched with fear. The once-vibrant markets and plazas had been transformed into battlefields, strewn with debris and echoing with the cries of the wounded.
In the heart of the conflict, Anakin confronted the leader of the Unsullied, a formidable and stoic figure. Their eyes met across the smoke-filled battlefield, and he knew that the fate of Meereen hung in the balance.
Just as the Unsullied commander raised his spear, Anakin jolted awake, drenched in cold sweat. He sat upright in his bed, his chest heaving as he struggled to shake off the lingering sense of dread.
Gathering his composure, he realized that it was just a nightmare. Determined to prevent such a catastrophe from becoming reality, he resolved himself for the actions he must take upon arriving in Astapor.