Disclaimer- Game of Thrones and Campione do not belong to me. I am just borrowing them. English is not my first or second language so please be gentle with me.

"Normal Talk"

'Thoughts/internal monologue'

"Telepathic conversation"

"Gods/Goddesses Talking"

"Shouting"

'Chant'

The next chapter is a bit late, so here is a mini chapter.

This here is the story of Rebellion

Enjoy

Carso was a slave. He has always been a slave, since before he can remember. His life had been pretty simple and monotonous. He carried his master's palanquin to wherever he wanted to go. Mostly to the pit where the slaves fought for the entertainment of their masters.

But it had taken a turn since last year. He had made a friend. A mad friend, sure, but a friend nonetheless. Braaso was also a slave who used to fight in the pits. It had been some time since he had fought in the arena, but no one was brave enough to force him back there. He had been legendary, the undefeated. But a year ago he had announced his retirement.

His reason? He had a vision, about a bull who was breaking the chains he was bound in. Evidently the vision was so powerful that Braaso had pledged to not lift his blade for the entertainment of the masters. He was unshaken in the face of the masters who had cajoled him, promised him the world, and even threatened him. His legendary status had stayed in the master's hand, but it would not be for long, and Braaso knew this.

For years he had preached about the mysterious figure that was dubbed Titan due to its stature. Carso had never truly believed Braaso's words. It did not help that Braaso was called the Titan of the Arena. Carso believed that Braaso had simply hallucinated the whole scenario.

But he could admit that it was good to have a friend to bring color into his bland life. Braaso was soft spoken despite his giant stature and was always kind. He directed the ire of masters to himself to spare others of the beatings, which he took with a content smile. Carso had placed Braaso as his brother in his heart. He was content.

But as they say, life has ways to kick anyone in the face.

Their days of peaceful existence did not last long. The masters had placed a little slave girl in the arena with lions. The girl had apparently touched her master's prized flowers. Braaso had not taken this lightly and jumped into the arena.

The masters did not like that and had released a whole pride of lions to make an example out of him. But Braaso was not easily intimidated. His sword did not rest as he slew the whole pride of lions. It was mesmerizing to watch. The masters had released wolves, leopards, and even bulls, but Braaso remained undefeated.

His face was torn, and half of his gut was spilling. His back was a mess of scars, and he was so drenched in blood that it was a miracle that he was still alive. Even then, Braaso was standing tall, shielding the little girl behind him. A serene smile played on his lips and eyes, still full of compassion. During all this, Braaso spent every resting moment to assure the little girl that he was going to get her out of there alive.

The longer the event lasted, the more masters began to lose their faces. Here was a man who dared to defy them and fought whatever they threw at him. Soon the slaves began to chant Braaso's name. No, they were chanting Titan's name.

The masters realized that they had spent far too much time to play their games, and if they did not end this now then, they would have a revolt on their hands. They did not realize that it was already too late.

They motioned the archers standing nearby to shoot Braaso and his pet slave down. Braaso intercepted the arrow with his sword, and masters ordered for more archers to be brought. Soon, a hundred archers were pointing their arrows at him, but Braaso was still not deterred.

Everyone knew that this was the end of Braaso, even Braaso himself, but he stood there unwaveringly. He simply looked back at the girl to make sure she was behind him. At once, a hundred arrows flew and found their mark. Braaso's body was riddled with arrows, and the masters cheered.

In that moment, Carso saw something amazing. Despite the injuries, despite the arrows, despite everything that had ever happened; Braaso stood tall. He did not fall on his knee. Even in death, Braaso had denied the master's wish.

"As long as my god is with me, I fear no masters. I was born free and would die free as well." The power in his tone shook the arena. Carso saw a miracle right in the middle of the arena. The little girl that Braaso had been protecting emerged unscathed from behind him. Braaso raised his sword high in the air, and the whole arena cheered.

Nobody realized it till later that Braaso had died on his feet. He stood tall even in death.

His defiance lit a fire under the slaves, and soon they began to pray to this titan that Braaso talked about. Carso did not know whether the slaves were worshipping the unknown deity or Braaso himself, but he did not care. That day in Arena changed something inside him.

Where before he listened amusedly to the words of his friend, he began replaying his words more carefully. The mad words sounded more like gospel now.

'Men are born free.'

A religion took root in the dark alleys of the city.

A year after the incident at the arena, Carso led the rebellion against the masters. Carso knew that winning was not an option there. He had planned to cripple the masters so badly that they would not be able to pursue them.

There was still the risk of other cities who would no doubt pursue them. A slave revolt was a big matter that was to be put down hard lest their own slaves might get ideas. He had been smart but still prayed to the Titan.

There was a group of slaves that had decided to act as decoys in case of pursuit. Carso wanted to be in the group but was voted out. He was the close friend of Braaso and hence was elected their de facto leader.

They left the city just before sunrise, watching their first sunrise as free men. They made their way to the direction that many swore they felt the presence of their god.

Carso was desperate and knew that sooner or later the masters would want to recover their property. He decided to listen to the voice in his that sounded suspiciously like Braaso, advocating to follow the gut feeling.

They soon stumbled upon the land that Braaso has described as his mother has described it to him.

They built their first settlement there. Carso wondered sometimes why he did not move the settlement for more protection. After all, if they do not have a permanent settlement, then they will not have to worry about the masters finding them.

But something about the land seemed good, so he could not bring himself to move. After a year, the second group that had gone in another direction found them. They were all safe. The group was beyond happy to be reunited.

Carso took it as a sign, and any doubt about relocating left his mind.

He decided to name the settlement after his friend and their savior, Braaso.

Half a century later, the cities of Essos began receiving merchants from a city named Braavos.

The next chapter is a bit late, so here is a bit of backstory. I had already written the part, but I was not sure of its place, so I decided to make it a chapter itself. Let me know if you liked it and if you would like similar chapters in the future.