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~~~Doran Martell, Eighth Moon, 277 AC~~~
~~~Casterly Rock, Westerland~~~
Never bent, Never broken.
The words of my house, strong, tough, and resilient, as well as the people of Dorne, a pride to the Dornians, a pride to the Martells, a pride to the Serpents. Over the years, our house went through many things, the loss of our native home in Mother Rhoyne, and the forced displacement Nymeria was forced to take along with her people.
The years of death, starvation, and suffering. All those bad things had made us what we were today, strong men and women weathered by the scorching sun, willing to be broken by no one.
Not even when Aegon and his sisters came from the Blackwater Bay atop their dragons did Dorne fall, even when our castles burned, our crops rotted and our water was poisoned.
And the records in Sunspear mention that my ancestors danced and feasted when the last of their fire-breathing beasts died tragically, for even after years of war, they understood that a war against dragons was a lost cause.
And now, a hundred years later, dragons once again took to the skies of Westeros, and behind said beast, stood a kingdom, one far larger than the Seven Kingdoms, far more powerful and wealthy, and a dangerous one in its own right.
In a matter of two years, it had gone from being just Astapor conquered to giving way to a storm of swords that unified the entire half of Essos. Xandar had the Free Cities in check, maintained a status quo in Essos without needing to impose word, and at the same time, managed to bring Essos to a halt to the constant wars.
The princes, triarchs, and maesters preferred to mobilize their efforts in becoming powerful in case Xandar was interested in them, then bleed in costly wars and ended up too weak to defend themselves from the giant that was growing next to them.
But one thing I saw from afar, and that the fools of Westeros did not see, was that Xandar would not settle for Essos, no.
Essos was not enough for someone who controlled a dragon and could cross the world in a single day, and my predictions began to be revealed when Xandar sent his first ships to the North. The farthest kingdom of all, but the weakest due to its distance from the realm, and that simple to defend from the north, and if taken, liberating it would present a difficult and costly campaign.
And while the official report was for trade, I had lived in Dorne all my life, where treachery was around every corner and danger lurked, and if Xandar was willing to play in Westeros, then Dorne would be too.
And Oberyn was the ticket to it. "Brother, I thought you were on the tournament grounds, what are you doing here? You should be enjoying the pleasures the Xandarians have to offer." And speak of the devil.
Oberyn, typical of him, entered my room without knocking, a bottle of wine in his hand and a beaming smile on his face. "I had business to attend to, some do have obligations," I replied, and his smile only got bigger.
"Hahaha, always so demure," the very idiot said a loud word for the first time, and I thought that his time in Essos had made him more brutish and wild. "Did you know that the Xandarians train their horses to become immune to the effects of snake poisons by letting them bite them? Amazingly, they have antidotes for it, something from the Jogos Nhai, the big-headed ones... I mean the one above, not the one from."
"I know what you mean!" I shut him up before he continued, one of these days he would make me get gout due to the stress he was causing me. "Although I wonder if they'll have it big, I've never been with a Jogos Nhai, they're short, but maybe it's because of what hangs on them."
"Look shut up, will you?" and I finally managed to shut him up," Now that you put your unacceptable comments aside, tell me, how did you see Xandar, is it how they tell the stories?" I asked him, at this point I would no longer be the only one who wanted to know, get, or have something of Xandar in his possession, be it her Valyrian metal, her gold, her potions, or in my case, information about her.
And it's just that Xandar had become so big at this stage, that to ignore it would be utter stupidity, "well, simply put, no." No? What do you mean, no? "No? Have you been lying about your wealth and greatness? Or what's the deal? Explain yourself."
"No, nothing like that, it just so happens that the subject is more complicated than you make it out to be," Oberyn began to explain, and for the first time since he arrived, his face became serious, "they are cursed, they hate what is not Xandarian, anyone dressed in a Tokar is disowned, insulting their king is like spitting on their mother."
"Is it that bad?" I asked, uncomprehending, and by bad I didn't mean how they felt about their land and their king, no, I didn't give a damn about that, but what that meant. And that is that a people so rooted in their land, and with such a fervent love for their leaders, was a hard place to destroy. And I knew that firsthand, as Dorne was one, and that was how it survived the Targaryen.
"Not only that but they are treated like soldiers from a young age, they are a military people, levies do not exist in Xandar, only soldiers awaiting the call to war," that perplexed me, that such a civilization existed, that alone something cruel. "But slavery no longer exists on Xandar, how is it possible that Unsullied are still being formed?"
"Unsullied? No, or well, from what little I learned, the new Unsullied are no longer trained as we were used to, now you can choose to be an Unsullied or not, and while you do earn gold by being one, what makes them all soldiers is because of the ingrained military culture, they think dying for their land is the greatest glory there can be, so you must understand where I'm going with this."
"If their king commands it, they will remove every last stone in the land to get what he asks for," I said, and the sight of that made me bristle. One thing that could be used in war and on the battlefield was the morale of the enemy soldiers, get them to surrender, get their formations weakened, and victory was won. With an army prepared, trained since childhood, and with the sole purpose of bringing glory to his name by serving his king, that was a tough foe to crack.
"Did you learn anything about his training tactics? He got the Unsullied, he must have their training cards under his control, not to mention the Dothraki, the best infantry, the best cavalry, their armies are powerful, and knowing how to defeat them is essential."
Oberyn looked at me strangely for a few seconds, and as I was about to repeat what I said moments before, he laughed in my face, "Hahahaha, what do you take me for? I'm not a spy, and if I were, I wouldn't stand a chance, I don't want the witches of Xandar as my enemies."
Now if he was confused, Oberyn, the brave one who wasn't afraid of anything, fearful of some witches, "I know what you think, but I saw them in action, a group of men from the moon singers decided it was a good idea to praise in Central Park."
"It wasn't a good plan, at first the group received prejudice from people passing by, but they didn't care, or at least not until they arrived," Oberyn's eyes glazed over. His brow became sweaty, "they appeared in the air, wearing black armor with gold accents, beautiful, angels fallen from the sky. But when they decided that the group had had enough, their ethereal beauty vanished... Their face became dark, as if a body under many days in the water, their eyes lifeless black, their skin broken like broken porcelain. And their mouth, huge and with teeth like wild beasts... Only two of them arrived on the scene, and only two were enough to tear apart a group of fifteen men in less than three minutes."
"So no, it is better to be Azrael's friends, we cannot afford to be his enemies," Oberyn finished his sentence with advice. "My lord!" One of my guards knocked on the door, and I looked at Oberyn with raised eyebrows, showing how he should act when he came before a closed door.
"Come in!"
"The first hunt is about to begin my lord, the notices have been sent out, and all participants are expected on the tournament field so the Xandarians can explain which beast will be hunted."