The Truth About Quellys

Shadow Lands, Asshai.

Dark clouds hung over the city. Low stone houses sprawled everywhere, and a faint stench tainted the air.

The streets were filthy and chaotic. Scores of homeless beggars knelt along either side.

Passersby showed no mercy. They all concealed their faces behind red-painted masks and hid their bodies beneath black robes.

Just as the world's prejudices would have it: desolate and evil.

In one corner of the city, near the coast.

The shops along the street were relatively prosperous, with several taverns and inns established there.

Red Grape Inn.

The entrance was quiet. A graceful figure in red robes stepped inside, her hood hiding the face beneath her black hair.

Creak!

The woman in red went straight upstairs and pushed open a room on the second floor.

"What's happening outside?"

Varys's bald head gleamed. His tattooed hand gripped the door as he warily peered outside.

This was the Shadow Lands, after all. One could never be too careful.

"No one has seen injuries like these. They've all refused to come treat him."

The Red-robed Priestess took off her hood, her alluring face showing her helplessness.

"Expected." Varys pursed his lips and nodded, letting her in.

The moldy room was cramped with their party.

Daeron tied his silver hair back with a hemp cord, set a bowl of medicinal soup on the table, and told his brother to drink it.

"Don't trouble yourself."

Rhaegar was pale. He leaned sideways against the bed, showing no sign of distress.

The fact that he had reached Asshai proved the prophecy was accurate.

The Night King's petty tricks wouldn't be enough to kill him.

The Red-robed Priestess studied the king for a moment, then hesitantly spoke. "Your Grace, Asshai has an alchemists' guild, where wizards from all over the world gather."

"Is