"Harvest" on the Narrow Sea

The sun shone brightly.

Fine, unbroken white scales shimmered across the calm, deep-blue sea.

The captain was delighted.

Since setting sail from King's Landing Port, the Pentoshi merchant ship Harvest had enjoyed a smooth voyage for two days.

"The winds and currents are very favorable. We may return to lovely Pentos in four days. Praise the Sea God, we're a full two days ahead of schedule!"

In Elin's eyes, the man was more than twice as fat as any captain needed to be.

The Iron Throne's envoy nodded in reply. "Mother bless us. I hope my mission can be completed as smoothly as this voyage."

Elin Lantel did not interrupt.

Officially, he had been sent by Crown Prince Joffrey to oversee the envoy's purchase of Dragon Eggs. In truth...

Elin shifted his backside awkwardly.

The captain's cabin at the stern was lavishly decorated, with thick carpets and windows inlaid with colored glass, but the seats were ill-suited.

Magister Illyrio Mopatis, the owner of both ship and captain, was enormous. The leather chairs custom-made for him were naturally extraordinary. Elin even thought one chair would have been enough for all three of them.

The captain did not seem very hopeful. "I'd never even heard of the Dragon Eggs you seek. His Magnificence must attach great importance to them."

The envoy's smile remained restrained.

"Heh heh. Pentos and King's Landing are the closest of trading partners. I trust Magister Illyrio is wise enough not to reject the Iron Throne's goodwill."

"Of course, there are also Golden Dragons."

Even the captain heard both threat and temptation in those words. His breathing grew heavier, but he said nothing more.

Elin did not care much.

The Red Keep was full of such verbal sparring, open mockery, and veiled barbs every day. He had long grown accustomed to such an atmosphere.

He focused on the task the Crown Prince had assigned him.

Securing the Dragon Eggs was naturally essential, but afterward, he had something more important and secret to do.

Daenerys Targaryen, "Stormborn." Viserion Targaryen, the "Beggar King." For more than a decade, Elin had never imagined that he would be connected to such legendary names.

Yet now, he was to serve his master by making them his targets.

Whenever he thought of it, a tingling shiver rose from Elin's heart. Will songs speak of me as well? The treacherous villain? The retainer who endured humiliation for a greater cause?

But what surprised him most was still the Crown Prince's words and actions that day.

Elin believed he had long since figured out the Crown Prince's temperament over the past few years. He had never angered the willful prince, and thus had become one of the most prominent figures among the Red Keep's thousands of servants.

Yet four days earlier, on the afternoon after the Crown Prince's tourney, Elin had seen another side of the prince in the Red Keep's Godswood.

"Find an excuse to remain in Pentos. Infiltrate that Magister's household and find a way to gain the trust of the 'Beggar King' and his sister. Bring them back to King's Landing if you can. If not, kill them."

Elin had practically thought he was hearing things.

What was the Crown Prince saying? This wasn't about tormenting some servant or courtier, nor was it one of his strange games. He wanted me to assassinate the Dragon Spawn?! How did the Crown Prince know?

The Crown Prince's gaze was calm, yet terrifying. "What? You are unwilling?"

Elin answered by reflex, "I obey your command. Your loyal servant will always await your summons."

The massive ship lurched more violently.

Elin silently watched the captain and envoy as they chatted cheerfully.

He realized that perhaps he had never truly seen through the Crown Prince. The person he had known before had merely been the prince's disguise.

This is better. Elin could not help curling his lips.

Though he was the lowborn son of a petty merchant and had grown up in the alleyways of Lannisport, he had been fortunate enough to see a broader sky.

The wealthy merchants and local tyrants, dripping in gold and silver as they swaggered about all day, were no more than lowly worms before the Lannister lion of Casterly Rock.

"The Rains of Castamere"—what a romantic, shocking, infinitely powerful song.

From that day onward, Elin had sworn to follow the lion for the rest of his life, to witness sights he should never have been allowed to see, to trample into the dust those he had once been able only to look up to, and to have a song of his own.

He had achieved part of that dream.

Even if he could only share a small portion of the Crown Prince's glory, he had reached the highest position any Lantel could attain.

He could live in Maegor's Holdfast within the Red Keep, watch the Seven Kingdoms' greatest knight, Ser Jaime, pass by, speak with the King and Queen, and mingle with countless lords and nobles.

And now, he had an ambitious master and an opportunity to create history with his own hands.

"The Loyal, Clever Elin," "The End of the Dragon," "Lantel the Dragonslayer"... Bards would compose songs with him as their hero, spreading his name throughout the Seven Kingdoms, making it outlive his very life.

I will never squander this chance!

Harvest rocked even more fiercely, making Elin, on his first voyage at sea, feel dizzy.

Terrified cries rose from the sailors on deck.

"Look over there! A storm!"

"Sea God!! Do not abandon your devout children..."

The captain immediately dashed out. Before long, he returned, somehow already spattered with water.

"Too sudden, far too sudden. How could this happen?"

The captain's face was full of disbelief. "There was no warning at all. The storm appeared out of nowhere. How is that possible?"

The Iron Throne's envoy panicked as well. It was only a diplomatic visit—was he really going to lose his life in the Narrow Sea?

Elin's expression was the ugliest of all.

The light is right before me. How can I just silently become fish food!?

The sailors struggled to furl the sails and secure the cargo, then immediately burrowed into the dark cabins beneath the deck. This cramped, crowded place gave them their greatest sense of safety now.

The captain led several men in clearing every unsecured heavy object from the room, then locked the thick wooden door. He trusted his captain's cabin more.

People struggled desperately, but their efforts were utterly insignificant before the boundless sea's rage.

The towering waves at the heart of the storm, blotting out sky and sun, came toward them at an unhurried pace. The scent of death gradually thickened and spread.

Harvest was even more helpless than peasant levies facing a charge of armored cavalry.

Many crewmen gave up hope.

"Allah, it seems today is my day."

"It's over, it's over, it's over..."

"Haha, all men must die, all men must serve. So it is true! Now it is our turn to serve. God of Many Faces..."

Elin clutched tightly at a huge wooden table built into the merchant ship.

He silently recited the lyrics of "The Rains of Castamere," drawing faith and strength from them.

I belong to the Lannisters. Fate stands with me!

The sea grew more and more turbulent.

The endlessly surging waters toyed with the tiny ship, helping humanity test the limits of its own physiology.

Elin spasmed and vomited without end.

First came half-digested mush, then streams of sour water and bile, then nothing but air and strings of saliva.

Woo, woo~, woo~~

The noise grew louder and louder. Without needing to be taught, any normal creature would know that disaster was coming.

"..."

Heaven and earth suddenly fell silent. People screamed and shouted, yet not a single sound could be heard.

The god used seawater as its body and kicked the ship.

Elin rolled about helplessly, his vision filled with warped whirlpools. Harvest had probably spun through the air several times.

One moment his body was pressed against the ceiling, the next it crashed against the floor. Viscous, revolting mixtures of solid and liquid coated him from head to toe.

As his consciousness blurred, the Crown Prince's words echoed through his mind.

"Not only is the Red Keep full of eyes and ears, that Magister is hostile toward the Iron Throne. You must conceal yourself well."

"You have several months. You must act before Daenerys marries the Horse King."

Blocks of red light gradually stained his shaking, hazy vision. He smelled the sea and blood, unable to tell whether the blood was his or someone else's.

"Try to find the exiled Ser Jorah Mormont. Tell him I will grant him a pardon and have him assist you."

"Carry two hundred Golden Dragons with you. They may prove useful."

Elin felt the ship beginning to break apart.

"Act however you like. I only want the people."

"Do this well, and I will not be stingy. I may even make you Hand of the King!"

Mother, show mercy. Warrior, grant me courage and strength. Crone, guide my way.

Stranger, not today, not today...