Within the Temple of the Graces, Galazza Galare stood in front of two young women. They wore robes of bright red, contrasting with her own green tokar.
Though considering their squabble, "girls" would be a more apt descriptor…
"You two have behaved in a most shameful manner," Galazza said. "You are training to become Graces, spiritual leaders respected by all. Yet today, I found you brawling like drunkards in a tavern."
The two Red Graces lowered their heads.
"I heard a little of your argument, but just what led you to such violence?"
One of the Red Graces raised her head and pointed at her companion. "It was Halza's fault, she started the whole thing!"
Halza scowled. "Grazdan chose me of his own will last night! You simply couldn't accept that fact, Sakaza!"
Galazza resisted the urge to rub her temples in annoyance. "I see. Now, am I to assume that this Grazdan is a man you both have interest in?"
The Red Graces fell silent. Their blushing faces told her everything she needed to know.
"Children, you are both Red Graces," Galazza pointed out. "It is your sacred duty to give pleasure to whoever seeks it. Feelings such as envy are simply a hindrance to your duty."
"But Green Grace—" "But it was her fault—"
"I do not think Grazan appreciates women who are violent, either," Galazza interrupted. "But, of course, I have never met him. You two have, so kindly tell me, what would he think if he heard about you two brawling?"
The two looked sheepish. Halza said, "He would hate us…"
"Then I hope you two do not repeat this behaviour," Galazza said. "For now, as it is the first offence for both of you, I shall be lenient in your punishment: one hour spent reading the scriptures of Old Ghis. But if you cause trouble again, I shall tell your families."
The two Red Graces shuddered. They knew, without Galazza needing to tell them, that if the families heard what had happened, Grazdan would also hear eventually.
"W-We won't do it again…" "Thank you for your leniency, Green Grace…"
"You may go."
Galazza watched the Red Graces shuffle out of the room. Shortly afterwards, she did the same, stepping out into a corridor. The two girls were already quite far away, having walked to opposite ends of the corridor.
They aren't going to properly reconcile for some time… and there's little anyone can do to speed up that process. Apply too much pressure to them, and they'll just lash out defiantly.
Additionally, Galazza was now face-to-face with a middle-aged woman dressed in dark red.
"Thank you for your assistance, Green Grace!" the middle-aged woman said effusively. "I'm ashamed that I needed it at all, those girls are under my authority—"
"It is nothing to be ashamed of," Galazza said. She placed a reassuring hand on the shoulder of the chief Red Grace. "The young can often be stubborn and difficult to handle." She used her other hand to touch her own grey hair. "I simply have a little more experience at listening to them."
"Yes, but I must thank you all the same. I'll do my best to not rely on you in future."
Galazza bid farewell to the chief Red Grace and then began wandering the Temple of the Graces.
She came across a long room filled with Blue Graces and their patients. The blue-clad priestesses diagnosed afflictions, cleaned up and bandaged wounds, mixed and administered medicines.
She saw Pink Graces in a lesson, learning how to serve as attendants to important figures. Not all of the Pink Graces were focused on the lesson, with a couple stealing glances out the window at the scenery outside.
But even they seemed diligent in comparison to the young White Grace whom Galazza discovered napping in a little-used room. Galazza gently woke the girl and firmly warned her of the evils of sloth. The White Grace hurried back to her own lessons.
Such a peaceful atmosphere… a great improvement on the days when Meereen was under siege.
But the one ultimately responsible for that siege remains, unpunished…
Unable to help herself, Galazza clenched her fists.
I had no great strength even in my younger days. Nor was I ever a beauty who could sway the hearts of men. And I lack any skill in sorcery. But even one such as I has ways to fight back.
…It is about time.
Galazza made her way to a sprawling garden on a south-facing terrace of the temple. This was filled with plants of a hundred different varieties, some of them imported from as far east as Yi-Ti or as far south as the Summer Isles. It also contained statues to each of the gods of Ghis.
There was a gilded statue of the Harpy, the chief goddess. She was a woman with the leathery wings of a bat, the scaly legs of an eagle and the deadly tail of a scorpion. This statue stood on a taller podium than any of the others, so that she might look down upon them like the Great Masters looked down upon their people.
There was a green statue of the Silvan, god of fertility and nature. He was a wizened old man whose body was intertwined with an oak tree.
There was a blue statue of the Lamia, goddess of all water bodies, ranging from the humblest pond to the largest sea. She had the body of a woman above the waist, but the sinuous tail of a snake lower down, and her hair was fronds of seaweed.
There was a red statue of the Minotaur, god of war and bloodshed. This bull-headed god wielded an axe in one hand and a club in the other, and his mouth was ever-open in a furious snarl.
Lastly, there was a black statue of the Whisperer, the embodiment of death. This consisted of numerous feathery wings folded around the central body. It was said that only those who died would ever see the true face of this mysterious deity, and only for a moment.
Galazza spent some time walking through the winding paths in the garden, looking at the vegetation and praying to all of the statues but one.
O Great Harpy. I ask that you continue protecting Meereen, one of the last few bastions of Old Ghis.
O Ancient Silvan. I ask for the most meagre portion of your wisdom, so that this plan of mine might succeed.
O Capricious Lamia. I ask for your continued generosity, so that my people will neither wither in drought nor be swept away by storms.
O Mighty Minotaur. I know that your bloodlust may never be sated, but I ask only that you incite conflict elsewhere, far away from this city of Meereen.
To a casual observer, she would seem to just be an old and faithful woman. But while she was praying, she was also counting down the remaining minutes.
The third hour of the afternoon arrived, something apparent from a sundial positioned in the centre of the garden. And when that time arrived, a Blue Grace came into view.
This Blue Grace was a woman of twenty-six, taller than most, and someone who had been raised from birth in the temple. Her name was Kubeza and she was Galazza's most trusted confidante.
"Green Grace, good day to you," Kubeza said.
"Likewise," Galazza said. "Did you need something from me? Or did you come bearing a request from another?"
Kubeza shook my head. "No, I'd simply heard that the flame lilies have begun blooming, and thought to see them with my own eyes."
The two different Graces turned to face a nearby garden bed, one filled with flowers of a dazzling orange. And, with movements both quick and silent, Kubeza passed a folded-up note to Galazza.
"Yes, they are beautiful indeed…"
They admired the flame lilies together for a few moments. This wasn't simply an act, both of them genuinely did appreciate the beauty of these flowers, which bloomed for less than half a day before wilting. The name "flame-lily" came from their transience as well as their colour.
After that, they parted. Galazza casually walked to a different part of the garden, one with tall hedges that concealed her from any prying eyes. She took out the note and unfolded it.
"Have found both the substances needed. The apothecary also told my agent of what the lethal dosage would be, by human standards. Now searching for a pliable food supplier."
This was good news indeed. Galazza wasn't sure how much longer she could keep up the act around her target. With the necessary reagents in hand, she could carry out her plan soon.
"Some whispers among other Blue Graces regarding wounded agent. May reveal to outsiders if not dealt with. Their names are…"
This, on the other hand, was quite unfortunate news. A Son of the Harpy had once received a sword wound during a mission. Kubeza had tended to him personally, but the man had still been seen by a few other Blue Graces when he snuck into the temple. At the time, Galazza had reassured the Blue Graces that this man had simply been a soldier injured in a training accident, and he wasn't worth bringing to the queen's attention.
Galazza considered her options. Kubeza would be lingering in the gardens for a while longer, in case she needed to receive new orders. If Galazza said nothing to her, Kubeza would instead continue following existing orders.
I will handle the second issue personally. Kubeza is… not the most sociable of individuals, not suited for reassuring worried young minds.
The individuals she mentioned would be outside the temple currently. They will return by nightfall, and I will talk to them then.
Galazza left the gardens and went back into the temple. She disposed of the note in a brazier during a moment no one was looking at her. She passed a couple of Purple Graces giggling about their recent cosmetic enhancements. Finally, she reached her personal room.
As Galazza was the highest-ranking Grace in Meereen, her room was suitably luxurious. The floor was covered in soft green carpet, the walls had veneers of marble and the ceiling was painted to resemble a starry sky, complete with accurate constellations. The furniture was crafted from cedar by Myrish carpenters.
Galazza closed the door to her room. Normally, her next action would be to look at the secret plans she had on her table, written in a code so they resembled Old Ghiscari poetry. This ensured that even if someone discovered the plans, they wouldn't see anything suspicious.
Instead she froze on the spot, having just seen an inhuman creature appear from thin air next to the table.
"Greetings, Galazza Galare," Wilmarina said. Her face betrayed no sign of suspicion or hostility. "Might I talk to you for a moment?"
Was she already in the room, but unseen!? Did she rise up from the floor like a spirit!? No… did she just appear in that spot without moving through space!? While hiding such thoughts, Galazza quietly said. "…You may."
Wilmarina pulled out a chair and gestured for Galazza to sit, so she did. Then Wilmarina sat on the bed facing Galazza. Even now, she gave off the impression that this was a normal meeting.
Most people might have screamed for help. Galazza did not, knowing that the creature before her now would have already ensured her fate was sealed.
"What brings you to my room, Royal Sorceress Wilmarina?" Galazza asked, trying—and having only partial success—to sound casual. "If you asked for a formal meeting, I would have gladly obliged."
"Your plan to non-fatally poison my family while framing Daenerys for it, to provoke me into deposing her."
Galazza felt an existential sense of terror. She tried her best to keep her breathing under control.
"I… I'm afraid you're mistaken. I would never do such a thing…"
Wilmarina extended a hand, causing the secret plans to float from the table and land in her hand.
This telekinesis was a basic spell. According to what Wilmarina's elder daughter had let slip to clients, it was something even young monster children could do. Even it was enough to intensify Galazza's terror.
Could she grasp my throat in the same way, and squeeze it…?
"These are some rather interesting documents," Wilmarina said, shuffling through the nine sheets of paper.
"They are merely verses of Old Ghiscari poetry," Galazza lied. "About the actions of the gods, when they… created the world…"
"Many tales of gods describe them as creators," Wilmarina said casually. "So too is the singular god I was raised to worship. Though I was not told that he created everything… I was told that he only created the world, beasts and humanity. Monsters were instead something born from the darkness, to prey on humanity."
Even through her terror, Galazza felt confused. The creature before was a monster, by her own description. Yet the religion she spoke of seemed inconsistent with that.
"But I did not come here to discuss religion with you." Wilmarina arranged all the plans in a neat bundle. "I already made copies of this, and showed the copies to a few scholars of Meereen. They too thought it was poetry at first, but then they noticed certain inconsistencies—misspellings, odd syntax." She looked directly at Galazza, now with a cold gaze. "They have yet to fully decipher your code… but they do not need to. They deciphered enough that I could track down a certain apothecary, one who'd recently made a certain sale."
Wilmarina took out two small bundles. She partially unwrapped them to reveal dried leaves of plants.
Galazza tried to think of words to say. She could find none that might help her in this situation.
"Two herbs used as medicines on their own, yet must never be mixed together, lest they react to form a strong poison… from hearing the apothecary's confession, I pieced the rest together. You planned to, at the next dinner or other event I attend, poison the food given to my daughters and I. By using two herbs that are safe on their own, you could make it more difficult to track down the true culprit. It would also help prevent unrelated people from being poisoned—they'd be safe so long as their food contained only one of the herbs, not both."
It was a plan that Galazza had spent weeks conceiving, helped along by advice from Kubeza. Based on the way the monsters had tracked down Daenerys using her belongings, they could likely use a poison to track down the original poisoner. But if the poison was only created within the food itself, from a reaction of two completely different substances, then this magical tracking would fail… or so she'd hoped.
"It's hardly a secret how protective I am of those girls," Wilmarina said. "And you hoped to exploit that, hoped that I would lose my temper, think Daenerys was the culprit and kill her. After all, this would be a dinner served in her name and prepared by her servants. The implied motive, to eliminate her most dangerous rival. Tell me, did I get any of the details wrong?"
Only one detail that she hadn't mentioned. Galazza had also planned to deposit a forged order in the rooms of one of Daenerys' cooks, to make it seem like they'd participated in the poisoning. The order would also be in code, to make it seem less suspicious.
Galazza tried to look horrified. "I assure you, I would never sully my hands with poison! I have no reason to want Queen Daenerys dead, nor to harm your family!"
"Oh?" Wilmarina raised an eyebrow. "And I was under the impression you had one hundred and sixty-three reasons."
Galazza's face twitched. She could not help it. The simple mention of that number brought back memories of watching friends and relatives moaning in agony on crucifixes, of grief-stricken Graces asking her what they should do now.
"That… action is something the queen would not repeat," Galazza said, even as the words tore at her. "She has… matured, since then."
"Let us dispense with the facades," Wilmarina said. "She is not here, and nor is anyone else. It is just you and me."
Galazza still hesitated. If she said anything incriminating here, perhaps the succubus would use magic to allow everyone in Meereen to hear it.
But she does not even need such tricks. She could kill me and make it seem an accident… much like what happened to Skahaz mo Kandaq.
Thus, Galazza discarded the mask she'd been wearing nigh-constantly. She looked at Wilmarina with furious eyes.
"Indeed, I have reasons to want the last Valyrian dead. Far more than one hundred and sixty-three, I assure you!"
Galazza suddenly stood from her chair. The movement made her green tokar partly slip off, but she was in no state to care.
"All remember the one hundred and sixty-three she crucified, in some parody of justice! But far more than that suffered when she took Meereen! Her forces riled up slaves within our walls, and then her freedmen burst in through the gates, and do you know what they did? Did she ever tell you this inconvenient history?"
"She did, in fact," Wilmarina replied, unshaken. "On the first night we shared in the Dothraki Sea. It is a moment she regrets."
That gave Galazza pause, but only for a moment. Fury took hold in her again.
"She may claim to regret it, but her regrets mean nothing to the survivors! Her mob of freedmen violated this city, looting and raping and murdering for days before being quelled! And she punished not a single one of them for their crimes!"
"Yes. But as I recall, she also has not punished the Great Masters of Meereen for any crimes committed towards slaves prior to her arrival."
"None of our class ever behaved in such a manner!"
Wilmarina raised an eyebrow. That alone caused Galazza to fall silent.
"…From my daughter, I have heard about the bastard children of one Hizdahr zo Loraq. Born from a relationship between him and a serving girl. This is a man you have described as virtuous—and perhaps he is, by the standards of nobility. But… could you look me in the eye, and claim that this serving girl had the right to refuse Hizdahr's attentions?"
Galazza could not. Slaves were meant to serve their masters, that was the world she'd been raised in. The serving girl should have felt blessed, to receive the attentions of a man as handsome as Hizdahr.
"…But Daenerys' actions have hardly improved the slaves' welfare," Galazza insisted. "Many slaves she freed no longer have employment, and fell into poverty! At least one innocent child was eaten by her black dragon, quite possibly more, and both that and the other two burned half the city, killing slaves as well as masters! And that is just within Meereen! In Astapor, her very first conquest, a vicious butcher soon seized power, dragging the city into a spiral of poverty and plague, and now Astapor has been reduced to ash and bone!"
Galazza prodded Wilmarina in the upper chest with a finger. She was much too angry to care about the insolence of the act.
"Royal Sorceress, can you look me in the eye and claim Daenerys' coming was good for Astapor!?"
Wilmarina was as unshaken as always. "Of course not."
"Then… Then why do you continue to support her!? Had you not arrived, Meereen would have met the same fate as Astapor, all thanks to the whims of a foolish young girl!"
"Because there are no other good alternatives," Wilmarina said resolutely. "I cannot undo the suffering of the past. But should Daenerys leave Meereen now—or be killed now—then whatever leadership arises in her place will certainly resume slavery. I cannot turn a blind eye to that. And my family and I can assist her in becoming a better leader, even after we leave."
"But… But if you do not leave, you could ensure slavery does not resume… Meereen would certainly accept your decrees…"
"No." Wilmarina forcefully pushed away the finger. "That is not a path I will ever take. Even if I was offered rule over the entire world, against just one second of time with my husband, I would still choose the latter. Do not bring this up again, or I'll reconsider my intention of giving you a painless death."
Galazza was at her wit's end. When she'd just been resisting Daenerys, she had the advantage of her opponent being inexperienced and having few advantages other than military might. But this inhuman creature had the advantage in every aspect, even including military might. And she would not be swayed from her course—Galazza knew that well enough, thanks to her extensive information-gathering.
"…I submit," Galazza muttered. "I submit. Though I suppose that matters little to one of your power…"
"It does not, no."
"How did you discover my scheme? I though I took every possible precaution."
Galazza hadn't really expected a response, yet to her surprise, she got one.
"It's simple. I was once in your position—no, in an even more desperate position."
"Wha… What?"
"Where I come from, there is a woman who is to me what I am to humans," Wilmarina elaborated.
Galazza did not understand. She knew what the words meant, but her mind could not fathom a being so much more powerful than Wilmarina, who was already a goddess in comparison to humans.
"She was also the greatest enemy I ever had," Wilmarina continued, staring off into the distance. "And she was not alone. She has multiple followers nearly as powerful, as well as broad popular support, far more than what Daenerys has in Meereen. I spent three years of my life trying to resist her, and her cause, in every possible way. At times… I thought of plans to assassinate her, stopping only because those plans were unlikely to succeed… and even if they did, my family and I would face harsh retribution. For this enemy I speak of? She has sisters who are just as powerful, as well as parents significantly more powerful."
"Are you telling me…" Galazza said hoarsely, "that in your world of monsters, you are merely a normal citizen?"
"Well, an above-average one, at least in terms of fighting skill… but I am far from the top of the hierarchy. And so I understand, quite well, what it's like to be the weaker one against an overwhelming enemy. I understand how the Harpy of Meereen would think. That's how I found you, Galazza Galare."
Galazza shook her head slowly. She'd spent months working in the shadows, evading all of Daenerys' efforts to capture the mythical Harpy. Wilmarina had been in Meereen for not even one month, and she'd uncovered the truth so easily.
I am like a child once more… trying to hide from an adult, not realising how visible I truly am…
"Might I ask another question, Wilmarina Noscrim?" Galazza said. "Think of it as the last request of the condemned."
"You may, if it is one I can answer."
"If you… not Daenerys… had come to Meereen… what would you have done?"
Wilmarina considered the question for over ten seconds.
"If I was alone, I would enter the city secretly, to gather information and plan my next move."
Galazza looked Wilmarina up and down. "Pardon me… secretly?"
Then Wilmarina's appearance changed. Her horns, wings and tail receded. Her ears became shorter and rounded. The tattoo and scar on her face disappeared. Her blue hair became a more common brown. Lastly, her grotesquely wasp-like figure smoothed out, becoming that of a typical human woman in the middle years of her life.
"This was one way in which I have been gathering information," said the frighteningly human-like Wilmarina.
Galazza shook her head in disbelief. "I should have considered this… but it was a blind spot. I never expected you to use your cosmetic magic to appear plain." Her lips quirked in a smile. "I must admit, it's something that would have made my own plan much easier, if I had such skill. Though… you said this would be your plan if you came alone. What if you came with your daughters, as you have now?"
Wilmarina reverted to her succubus appearance. "Then they no doubt would have pushed me into helping Meereen's people. As for how I'd accomplish that, I'd build influence by healing the Great Masters of crippling afflictions—blind eyes, bad hips, similar things—while Amelia would alter your appearances. Those would be my daytime activities. During the nights… perhaps those Great Masters who abuse their slaves would suffer unfortunate, but non-fatal accidents."
"We would suspect these accidents to be your doing, still," Galazza said, accepting the barb. "Though if any tried to attack you openly… well, they'd be taught the same lesson you taught Yunkai's armies."
Wilmarina nodded. "Eventually, Elise and Colette would unveil their inventions, so that the slaves need to work less. When we gained enough influence, we would demand an end to training of new slaves, and to trading of existing slaves in Meereen."
"Yunkai, Astapor and most of the rest of Essos would object," Galazza speculated. "But by this time, word of your miraculous magic would have spread far and wide. Any important figure with an incurable illness, or a relative with such, would be pushing to negotiate with you. Others might, futilely, send assassins."
"Depending on who those assassins are, I might recruit them or kill them. In the long term, I would try contacting Braavos…"
The conversation continued for a couple of minutes. Eventually, Galazza had to ask another question that came to mind.
"I must admit, I'm surprised you can be so cordial with the villain who plotted against your family."
Wilmarina looked at Galazza intensely. "If you had succeeded in your plot, even if it would be non-fatal, I would be far less cordial."
Those words caused Galazza to shiver uncontrollably. She is a monster with powers beyond my imagining, she thought. She could torture me to the brink of death, then heal me so I can receive more torture…
"But you did not." Wilmarina's gaze softened. "And I also have few opportunities to open up to this extent."
That calmed Galazza slightly. She took another look at the creature before her.
She looks almost as young as the girls I was disciplining this morning… and yet, she bears the weight of many experiences. To the point that I… feel a slight kinship with her…
"I suppose you cannot talk with such things with your daughters," Galazza said. "I, too, have not talked with my kin about my activities as the Harpy. Nor with the Graces under my—"
"Spare me the lies. I'm aware of your right-hand woman, who you just communicated with in the gardens. You would never have succeeded this long without their help."
Galazza sighed in resignation. She might be condemned, but she'd been hoping to ensure that at least Kubeza survived.
"Is she already dead?" Galazza asked.
"No. From observing her, I determined that she follows your orders solely because they are your orders. Also, it would be suspicious if two Graces died at the same time, one of them young and healthy."
That was another correct judgement. Unlike most of the Graces, who came from the ranks of nobility, Kubeza was an orphan girl who Galazza had taken pity on and raised. She cared for Galazza more than she cared for any other person in Meereen, or even the gods of Ghis.
"You are going to be found dead in your room, having suffered a stroke—quite normal for a woman of your age," Wilmarina said. "Many Meereenese will no doubt beg me to save you, but I will point out I cannot help the dead. Should your follower accept your death as natural, I will do nothing to her."
That was the most Galazza could hope for. As bitter as it felt to have all her efforts be thwarted, at least the damage was limited this way.
Meereen will mourn for me, as one who served over thirty years as Green Grace, and move on. The House of Galare will not be destroyed, and my remains will be allowed to rest in the Galare crypts, with my ancestors…
"Thank you for this mercy, Royal Sorceress—ah, that is a title we humans gave you. As these will be my final words, is there any other title you wish to be addressed by?"
Wilmarina shook her head. She reached out a hand towards Galazza.
"Very well, then. For my final words, Wilmarina Noscrim…"
The hand touched Galazza's forehead.
"I wish it had been you who conquered… Meereen…"
Galazza fell to the floor. There was no pain, just a complete loss of strength. Darkness overtook her.
Ah… now, it is my turn to meet the Whisperer…
AN: This chapter taken out of context: Wilmarina murders a defenceless old woman and gets away with it.
For those not familiar with ASOIAF, the Harpy is both a figure worshipped by the Ghiscari people and a name used for the leader of the Sons of the Harpy. The other four gods are my own invention to flesh out the Ghiscari pantheon. Three of them follow the Harpy's theme in being based on mythological creatures, while the Whisperer is meant to stand out from the rest (much like the Stranger in the Faith of the Seven).
I originally planned to show Skahaz' downfall with a chapter from his POV (it's what Chapter 11 would have been). While I made that a background event instead, I've now done it with a different schemer in Meereen. Conversely, I showed how Wilmarina investigated Skahaz but I kept her investigation of Galazza in the background. Playing around with perspectives like this is something I enjoy doing as a writer.
Lastly, I'll make it clear that Galazza at the end isn't experiencing the expected symptoms of a stroke. This is because Wilmarina gives her a painless death that'll just be mistaken for a stroke.