Volantis

The closer they drew to Volantis, the more obvious the changes in their surroundings became.

At first, the blue-black seawater gradually gave way to a deeper, inky green. The sky was no longer always a clear blue, either. Low gray clouds often piled overhead, leaving the sunlight pale and feeble as it filtered through. The air grew increasingly humid and oppressive. A faint yet unmistakable stench began to drift ceaselessly from the east, something like smoldering ashes, something like sulfur. Seabirds all but vanished.

Occasionally, fish leaped from the inky-green water. Their scales often flashed with an unnatural, metallic sheen, and their shapes were somewhat peculiar.

The crew gradually grew quieter, their conversations dropping to murmurs. More often, they simply stared at the eastern horizon, forever shrouded in mist or gray clouds, their eyes carrying wariness and a trace of anxiety they could hardly conceal.

Rumors of the "Smoking Sea," the "cursed lands," the "Stone Men," and the "river of boiling oil" began circulating aboard the ship. Even the most fearless old sailors unconsciously tightened their grips on the amulets around their necks when standing lookout. After all, people's fear of the unknown was impossible to hide.

The voyage continued amid dread and anticipation. Time seemed to drag in the thick, hot air. Lookout duty became the most nerve-racking task: they had to watch not only the movements on the sea, but also for any ominous signs or dangers coming from the east.

Finally, two weeks after leaving Lys, on an evening so stifling it was hard to breathe, an excited shout rang out from the lookout, instantly putting everyone aboard on edge. "It's Volantis!"

People crowded the rail, craning their necks to look east.

The first thing they saw was not the city's details, but the breathtaking wall stretching between earth and sky. It was immensely tall. In the dim afternoon sunlight, its black basalt gleamed darkly, massive and imposing, as though it had stood since time immemorial and could withstand any raging waves or ravages of time. Its inner face was said to be smooth white marble.

It was a magnificent defensive line encircling the entire city and part of its hinterland, and one of the most astonishing surviving legacies of Valyrian craftsmanship. Now it was also the civilized world's last bastion before those cursed ruins.

As the ship slowly approached, more details came into view. The long wall was not completely sealed. A little south of its center, the broad Rhoyne emptied into the Summer Sea. Sluice gates and defensive towers stood at the enormous river mouth, controlling the passage of ships. There lay Volantis's main harbor, within the long wall, at the mouth of the Rhoyne.

Quite a few ships were already waiting outside the river mouth to enter the harbor. The smell of sulfur was stronger here, mingling with the scent of damp earth carried down by the great river. Beyond the magnificent black-and-white walls, they could see densely packed rooftops of many colors and the outlines of taller buildings. Several pyramid-shaped temples stood out in particular, sanctuaries to the many gods of Volantis.

The clamor of the harbor district grew clearer as they drew closer. Its bustle was different from that of Lys, with less cloying ostentation and more of the weight of ancient history. The docks were piled with goods from the upper reaches of the Rhoyne, along with still more slaves.

These slaves were a diverse lot. Besides the usual prisoners of war and female slaves from various lands, there were dark-skinned people of unfamiliar races from south of the Summer Isles, as well as the steppe riders known as the Jogos Nhai, who wore feathered adornments and had defiant eyes.

After everything he had seen along the way, Viserys felt he understood. Outside Braavos, every harbor in the Free Cities had posts for chaining people. The chains were worn bright, and the whips cracked louder than the waves. Notices banning the slave trade hung on the walls, rustling whenever the wind blew, but beneath them, the selling went on all the same.

Some rules in the world were meant to be obeyed; others were merely meant to be seen. The crack of those whips was the true voice of this sea, of this world. He should have understood that long ago. Still, he had no intention of changing anything. In the end, he was only passing through. What did other people's lives have to do with him? All he needed was to make his own life a splendid one.

Putting those thoughts to rest, Viserys instructed Ser Alliser to send all the soldiers under his command into the city in separate groups to gather information about Valyria, including detailed accounts of the several large-scale expeditions Volantis had previously organized.

They could also take the opportunity to unwind and get some proper rest. After all, once they entered Valyria, even Viserys could not guarantee their safety. He had just tried using his Skinchanger abilities to control some animals and send them into Valyria, but they could reach only the outskirts at most. Some strange field within severed his connection.

As for Viserys, he remained with Ser Arthur, just the two of them. He had no need to disguise himself here. There were plenty of people with Valyrian features in Volantis, so he did not stand out.

Fully armed patrols were everywhere in the city. The soldiers wore armor and carried weapons of varying styles, while the plumes or emblems on their helmets marked their allegiance to the city's different political factions, the Tiger Party and the Elephant Party. The former favored military expansion, while the latter focused on commercial interests, and their struggle ran throughout the history of Volantis. At present, the Elephant Party should have held the advantage among Volantis's three triarchs, occupying two seats.

They passed a somewhat open street junction, free of the clamor of the markets, its ground paved with worn, dark stone slabs. At the far end stood a strikingly different building.

It was a temple of the Red God, far larger than any he had seen before. Unlike other temples, it did not strive for ornate decoration. Built entirely of huge, dark-red stones, it was massive and austere, yet possessed an undeniable majesty. Above the lofty portico, an enormous relief of flames seemed to burn upon the stone. Worshippers of different ages and in all sorts of clothing quietly came and went on the broad stone steps, while the rich scent of burning, distinctive incense drifted through the air.

The temple drew many worshippers, yet strangely maintained a solemn silence, in stark contrast to the noise elsewhere in Volantis. Clearly, amid the city's complicated tapestry of faiths, R'hllor, the Lord of Light, wielded considerable influence.

Viserys had no intention of lingering. Yet just as he was about to leave, a slender figure emerged from the shadows of the towering temple doors and stopped at the edge of the topmost stone step.

She was a young girl, perhaps only fifteen or sixteen. She wore a plain, deep-red linen robe with no lavish ornaments, only a simple flame-shaped ruby hanging around her neck. Her hair was brown, and her pale, translucent skin seemed to glow faintly in the shadows. Most striking were her eyes, large and bright, an unusually clear blue. They were fixed directly on Viserys, as though she had known all along that he would pass this way.

There was neither curiosity nor fear in her gaze, only calm scrutiny.

Viserys briefly checked his stride.

The girl descended the stone steps slowly, walked straight toward Viserys, and stopped a few paces before him. Ser Arthur warily shifted half a step to the side, his hand resting on his sword hilt.

"Stranger." The girl's clear voice seemed to carry a trace of strange magic. "You come from a land of salt and ash, wreathed in the smoke of a fallen dynasty and the breath of flame."

Something stirred within Viserys. Has the Lord of Light noticed me? His expression remained unchanged as he asked, "Who are you?"

"I am Kinvara, a servant of the Lord of Light," the girl answered, her blue eyes seeming to pierce appearances and delve into his heart. "Signs appeared in the flames. I saw a dragon in the shadows. It had three heads. One breathed fire in memory, one gathered ice in the mist, and one still murmured in dreams."

Viserys's gaze sharpened slightly at her words. A dragon with three heads? That was a little too specific.