Departed Souls

His knuckles tapped against the rusted gunwale as Aegon calculated the year in his mind.

Fifteen years had passed since Elia, his mother in this life, had shed her blood in King's Landing. Westeros should now have entered the autumn of 297 AC.

Aegon's tapping hand quietly clenched into a fist, then relaxed, leaving deep nail marks in his palm.

He drew a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, blowing away the poisonous mist drifting before him.

And Aegon happened to know of one man from Westeros-or rather, the Iron Islands-who had been active around the Smoking Sea and the ruins of Valyria sometime around 297 AC.

"Euron Greyjoy!"

Euron Greyjoy, also known as Crow's Eye, was the younger brother of Balon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands. In the original story, Balon Greyjoy had banished him from the Iron Islands in 289 AC for seducing their younger brother's Salt Wife.

He then returned to the Iron Islands in 299 AC, claiming to have sailed into the Smoking Sea and brought back Dragonbinder and a suit of Valyrian steel armor from the ruins of Valyria.

Considering his ten years of exile, Euron Greyjoy's whereabouts and timing roughly matched the present. He would have needed time early on to amass wealth, gain sailing experience, and reach the Smoking Sea, then enough time afterward to return to the Iron Islands. That meant his treasure hunt in the Smoking Sea should be happening now.

As Aegon pondered this, a rather corpulent figure suddenly appeared before him.

Startled, Aegon looked up to find the fat mercenary he had saved earlier standing in front of him. His iron armor gaped painfully under the pressure of his bulging belly, like an oyster shell pried open, revealing a sweat-soaked linen shirt through the gaps. With an enormous iron hammer resting on his shoulder, he was looking at Aegon with a guileless grin.

"Hey, I'm Henry. Thanks for saving me back there." He extended a chubby hand to pat Aegon's shoulder, but seemed to notice how filthy it was from the fight and sheepishly withdrew it halfway.

The fat mercenary laughed, then said, "I owe you my life. If you ever run into trouble, just come to me."

Then he remembered that Aegon had been the one to save him, yet here he was offering to solve the other man's problems. It seemed a little presumptuous, and he let out another awkward laugh.

Still laughing awkwardly, he lowered his iron hammer.

The hammer landed with a dull thud. He bent one thick arm and slapped it hard several times with his other hand, making the fat jiggle.

"I don't have any other talents. I've just been really strong since I was little. Give me a shout if you need help. I might not be good at anything else, but I can certainly lend some muscle!" Only then did he seem to remember that he had not asked the other man's name, and he hurriedly added,

"Oh, right, what's your name?"

Aegon studied the good-natured fat man before him, and the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

"Lott Hayne." As someone who had transmigrated, he certainly knew the importance of an alias, especially in this wretched, unfamiliar place.

"Well, my friend Hayne, you saved my life, so from now on, you're my best friend!"

"My mother always told me to share my best things with my friends." He wiped the grime off his hands against his clothes several times, then grabbed Aegon's arm and tried to lead him toward his room.

Just then, a group of sailors emerged from the entrance to the lower hold, which had remained completely quiet throughout the earlier chaos.

Every one of them was like a walking corpse, silent and focused only on the work in his hands as they began cleaning the deck.

Aegon gave them a curious glance and noticed the scar-faced mercenary who had helped him during the fight approach a sailor who was clearing away the monster's severed limbs.

He seemed to say something, but the sailor remained unmoved and continued his work.

The scar-faced mercenary angrily cursed, kicked the sailor to the ground, snatched up the monster's severed limbs the sailor had collected, and entered the cabin without looking back.

The sailor got up and numbly resumed his work as though nothing had happened.

Aegon frowned but did not interfere. He turned back to the fat mercenary and said, "Henry, I've still got something to take care of. Let's talk another time."

Henry paused, then agreed with a hearty laugh and headed elsewhere. Before leaving, he made Aegon promise to come see his treasure next time.

Aegon's lips curved slightly, but then he remembered an internet meme from his previous life. His smile twitched, and his backside clenched.

He quickly shook his head to clear away the strange thoughts. He still had to retrieve his sword.

When he had taken up the spear to attack the monster, the longsword had gotten in his way, so he had casually thrust it into the deck. Now he needed to retrieve it. A good sword was hardly cheap, after all.

He hurried over to where he had left it. Sure enough, the sword was still there. He grasped the hilt and pulled it free with a firm tug.

As was his habit, Aegon held the sword horizontally before him to inspect it. To his astonishment, the once gleaming blade, bright with cold light, now resembled a ruined sword left to rust for years. Its edge was jagged, and its blade looked as though it had been coated in poison, wrapped in an oily, fluorescent green sheen.

Aegon sucked in a sharp breath. Was that monster's blood poisonous? And corrosive too? Thank goodness none of it got on me.

But looking at the sword, now completely unfit for use, Aegon sighed. His purse would take another serious hit, making his already strained finances even worse.

With a sigh, Aegon slid the ruined sword back into its scabbard and secured it at his waist. It had been with him for so many years, after all; he could at least take it back as a keepsake. Looking up, he saw that the sky had darkened. Already mentally exhausted, he felt utterly drained after the fierce battle, so he headed straight into the cabin to return to his room and rest.

He reached his door, but the moment he opened it, Aegon froze, his eyes turning warily toward the bed.

Someone was lying on what should have been an empty bed. The man's clothes were soaked with sweat, his hair and beard were unkempt, and he lay sprawled across Aegon's bed, looking utterly exhausted.

The man was so sweaty and filthy that, although Aegon had not smelled anything yet, he already felt as though the stench filled the room. He strongly suspected that this man was the source of all the stains on the shabby bed.

Aegon entered the room and was about to call out to wake him when the man suddenly sat upright, as though startled awake by something.

Aegon gripped his sword hilt and demanded, "Who are you?"

But the man completely ignored Aegon. He seemed frightened by something, opening his mouth as though he were speaking.

Yet Aegon heard nothing.

Aegon frowned. What was this man doing? Matching wits with thin air?

As Aegon watched, the man moved again. After saying a couple of sentences, he dropped straight to his knees and clasped his hands together as though begging for mercy. Then he abruptly scrambled backward and began ducking and dodging, as though evading attacks.

Keeping one hand on his sword hilt so he could draw at any moment, Aegon stepped toward him.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Aegon asked. The man seemed to have been driven into a corner by something.

Aegon raised his hand to pat the man's shoulder, but the instant he touched him, his hand passed straight through.

Alarmed, Aegon was about to retreat when he realized that he was no longer seeing through his own eyes.

His viewpoint now seemed to belong to someone else, someone who was sitting on the bed and looking toward the door.

Just like... just like that filthy man had been sitting on the bed, looking at me!

No, he wasn't looking at me! Because...

With a loud bang, the door was brutally kicked open, and two men wearing armor engraved with krakens entered, blades in hand.

The man whose viewpoint Aegon now shared reacted as well, rising to his feet and speaking to the two men.

This time, Aegon could even hear his voice!

"What are you trying to do?!"

"Didn't we agree that once we delivered this cargo and collected our pay, we'd go our separate ways? Don't worry, we'll keep our mouths shut about your business. We won't tell a soul."

Aegon could even hear the two men opposite him speak. One of them said,

"Won't tell a soul? Only the dead keep their mouths shut for good!"

"And what is this pay you speak of? The Ironborn know only the iron price!"

The blade-wielding man sneered, his kraken armor seeming to shimmer with bloody light beneath the oil lamp.

As his words fell, he swung his blade.

The cold gleam of the blade filled Aegon's vision!