On the deep blue sea, a vast fleet sailed slowly westward.
The red flags of Volantis flew from its masts.
At the center of each flag, a majestic tiger grappled with a steadfast war elephant, symbolizing the internal struggle that had never ceased in the centuries since Valyria's fall.
The fleet commander, a captain from the Tiger Party, stood on the raised platform at the bow, both hands resting on the cold bronze railing. His brow furrowed as he gazed toward the eastern horizon.
According to the original plan, his fleet should have reached Lys two days earlier. With that jewel of trade mired in internal strife, they would seize control of its port and reap the greatest possible gains under the guise of mediating disputes or restoring order.
How could Volantis, the eldest daughter of Valyria and the most legitimate heir to the mighty Valyrian Freehold, let such an opportunity slip away and allow supremacy over the western end of the Narrow Sea to fall into other hands?
Yet the long voyage had delayed them, first with a lack of wind, then with headwinds.
And when they finally reached the outskirts of their intended hunting ground, the scent of their prey had become utterly unfamiliar, even... terrifying.
The first fast ship sent in to scout returned with puzzling news: Lysport was smoking, but the flags flying over the walls... seemed neither those of Lys nor the emblems of Tyrosh.
Those flags had... a black field bearing a red, three-headed beast?
The Tiger Party commander scoffed, assuming the scouts' eyes had been dazzled by the blazing sun or confused by lingering smoke.
He ordered another ship to take a closer look.
The second ship returned with clearer, more unsettling news: repairs were indeed underway at the port, but everything was