Lux relaxed on a couch in his castle's solar, watching his daughter happily play with Noire on the floor. Bella was likely off kicking puppies or something, while Val was enjoying the library's considerable selection now that she wasn't confined to her quarters.
His beautiful Saintess should be arriving at the first Free City of her mission. Her main purpose there would be to set up surveillance and protection on the exiled Targaryens, with making contact with the Iron Bank in his name as a secondary objective.
Daenerys and Viserys would be important pieces in the game he was setting up. Lux didn't want any nonsensical butterfly effect, like how Val ended up captured by slavers, to mess with his plans. Placing a few of his trained wizards to keep an eye on them would be enough. After all, he only needed them to be alive to get what he wanted from them.
Other than the two royals, he was sure the Iron Bank would want to make contact after seeing the goods he'd sent along with his Saintess.
The Magicals that he tasked Bella with training couldn't create permanent conjurations like him, even after learning the advanced transfiguration he'd made, but what they could do was create superior products from inferior materials.
With that, he'd put them to work when they weren't learning. From fine glassware and intricate jewelry that couldn't possibly be created with the world's current level of technology to alcohol-based perfumes that put this world's scented oils to shame, he now had a steady supply of luxurious goods to flood the market with.
And that was only what he'd sent with his Saintess. On the other flying ships, he packed them to the brim with the surplus foods that his pocket dimension farms produced, sending them to various cities of Essos and Westeros. He was sure the unheard-of potatoes and tomatoes would be a hit with the peasants of this world.
"FOR NARNIA!" Delphi cried, seated on the back of the little black wolf, raising her tiny wooden sword to the sky.
Noire took off, charging toward her father lost in his daydreams, and Delphi struck, aiming for her father's shin with all the might her little arms could muster.
"Ah, you little shit," Lux cursed, shaking his head.
Fucking kids, don't they know not to interrupt a man while he's internally monologuing?
"Little shit, little shit, little shit," his daughter merrily skipped around singing.
Ah, hells. Bella was going to give him dirty side eyes for a while because of this.
A New God's Conquest
Yaling leaned against the upper deck's railing, wind flowing through her raven-black hair as the ship cut through the calm waves, nearing their journey's first stop. Their first leg of the voyage had them soaring through the skies, but now that the iconic Titan of Braavos could just barely be seen, they were pretending to be nothing more than an impressive yet mundane trading vessel.
Yaling knew they'd still get more than a few interested gazes because of the ship's size and advanced design, but something like this wasn't completely unheard of. The Swan ships of the Summer Islanders, while smaller, somewhat resembled their own.
Seeing that they'd soon be making port at the bustling trade city, Yaling pushed herself off of the ship's railing, turning to one of her Lord's black-robed sorcerers.
"Please, gather your fellows on the main deck," she politely ordered, receiving a nod of acknowledgment. While it was true that they were now under her command, in the end, they all served for the good of their Lord.
Down on the main deck, Yaling looked over the twenty men and women standing at attention. For now, she'd only be addressing the mages under her command while the commoners working as laborers were in the ship's hold, preparing the supplies for transport.
"As you all know, I have been tasked with fulfilling our Lord's commands in this foreign land. At all times, half of you will guard the ship, ensuring none realize it as something more than all the other vessels in port, and while I'm in the city, the other half will act as my guards to keep up appearances," Yaling paused, giving time for any questions or concerns to be raised. Hearing none, she continued, "That will be all for the time. You may organize yourselves to complete your duties as you see fit."
"Yes, Saintess," they all saluted after her commands had been given.
Yaling watched as the group huddled up, exchanging a few words before all drew their wands, the black robes they wore transfiguring into black combat leathers, each with a sword at the waist, and finally, a glamor that changed their physical features to one closer to her own.
She nodded to herself. It would be extremely odd if her guards were seen as defenseless scholars. Of course, it was far from the truth, but she wasn't going to flaunt their magical capabilities when it wasn't needed. She knew that, even without magic, each of the mages could hold their own with a blade. And with them all seemingly of YiTish descent, they'd likely face far less scrutiny.
It didn't take long before their ship was passing under the legs of the mighty Titan, the horn blowing at their arrival, and the sprawling city coming into view.
Of course, it wasn't a new sight for Yaling. She'd visited most of the major cities between Yi Ti and the Narrow Sea during her time as a bed-slave.
The bastard daughter of Valyria claimed they welcomed all but slavers. Of course, as long as one paid the right people and wasn't blatant about it, a slave vessel like the one she'd been a part of could go unnoticed in the sea of traders.
They waited for permission to moor, and after being flagged toward a vacant spot by a small galley, the crew prepared for landing. With how many enchantments their ship was packed full of, they easily drifted into the tight spot without a hitch.
As she'd expected, it seemed their grandiose galleon flying gold and silver banners had drawn considerable attention, a well-dressed man backed by a squad of guards already waiting where the gangplank had been dropped.
Yaling recognized the badge the man in front wore as that of a port official. She could see the greed in his eyes and she smiled. It seemed the first lambs were already walking to their slaughter, she thought.
Seeing no reason to delay things, Yaling signaled for the mages who took the role of her guards to surround her as they debarked their vessel.
"My Lady, welcome. My name is Malello. May I know the nature of your visit to our fine city?" the official asked, making Yaling nearly roll her eyes at the performance the man was playing at.
"Business and trade," she replied, not bothering to go along with the act.
"Very well then, I'll begin my inspections to ensure proper taxes and port fees are in order," Malello's friendly smile vanished, seeing he wasn't fooling anyone.
This, however, put a smile on Yaling's pretty face. It wasn't a nice smile, but it seemed that Malello's survival instincts weren't sensitive enough to notice.
Yaling happily led Malello and his few guards onto the ship and into the hold. When the doors closed, they didn't even get the chance to realize the interior's obviously magical nature before a glowing wand tip was pointed at the back of each Braavosi's head, their minds no longer their own for the moment.
"Well done," she clapped. "Make sure they believe we paid more than the standard fare and that, aside from our wealth, there's nothing suspicious about us."
It didn't take the skilled sorcerers long to follow her commands, and the rest of the time was spent standing around because it would be suspicious if the inspection finished too soon.
"Well met, My Lady. Here are your documents, and I hope your business ventures are fruitful," Malello happily bowed, now off the ship.
Yaling raised an eyebrow. She could tell the man was being honest this time.
Looking at the sorceress that messed with the man's mind, she only saw her looking away, trying to act innocent. Yaling guessed the woman hadn't liked what she'd seen while going through Malello's memories.
She shrugged, whatever, it's not like the man was of any importance. He'd just have to live with the extra brain damage that the tampering would cause.
Since that was dealt with, they could finally get started on the important things.
"You two, we need to find the exiled Targaryens. Supposedly they're living in a house with a red door," she ordered, picking out the one she was told had a gift for divination.
The two vanished into the crowd, and Yaling turned to give a few more orders, preparing to set up a few stalls in the nearby market.
She was sure her next move would draw the eyes of the Iron Bank onto their little group, but that was what she was hoping for.
From her days as a princess, Yaling knew that, unless you wanted to be looked down upon and taken advantage of, you had to make these kinds of people come to you, not the other way around.
A New God's Conquest
Tycho Nestoris, glorified parchment-pusher of the illustrious Iron Bank, flipped through the information his informants had delivered, making sure everything was in order one last time before scurrying down the extensive marble halls. What he'd heard couldn't be put off, and if his boss learned of it late, it would be on his head.
Knocking on the large door, Tycho patiently waited for permission to enter.
"Enter," he heard the muffled voice call out from inside.
He heaved the heavy thing open before walking in and bowing at the waist.
"Tycho, this better be good. I'm putting my meeting with the Black Pearl on hold for this," Bessaro Reyaan, his boss and Key Holder for the Iron Bank, grumbled.
"Yes, Lord Reyaan, this is of the utmost importance," he tried to placate the large man sitting in a double-wide seat. The Black Pearl would probably be thanking him if she knew, Tycho thought, trying to keep his lip from twitching up.
Bessaro seemed to relax at those words, deflating back into that poor chair of his, the creaking wood echoing through the chambers.
"Fine, let me have it then," Bessaro waved him over.
Tycho placed the bundle of parchments on the desk. "My Lord, a powerful sorceress from Yi Ti trading goods of such fine quality I've never heard of before has set up shop in the port market," he explained, seeing a frown starting to form on his boss's mouth.
He internally sighed; he knew this all sounded like a bunch of balderdash, but he could trust his sources
"My Lord, I'd trust this information with my life," he tried persuading, seeing his boss's frown deepen while flipping through the pages.
Bessaro sighed. "Very well. I'll remember those words." He sighed again, this time deeper. "Seems I won't be seeing my Pearl tonight, after all." Tycho turned away, hiding his eye that was visibly twitching.
"Did you at least acquire anything this so-called sorceress was selling?" his boss asked, making him nod.
"Yes, My Lord, the men I sent should be returning soon."
"Good. Bring them to the Keyholder chambers when they arrive," Bessaro said, struggling to hoist himself out of his seat. "Oh, and do remember, Tycho, if this turns out to be a waste of my time, you won't enjoy the outcome," his boss promised, making him give a stiff nod.
A New God's Conquest
Sitting in the Keyholder's chambers, Bessaro frowned, flipping through the information his lackey had brought to his attention. If even a quarter of it was true, he was sure there was a hefty profit to be made.
Watching his fellow Keyholders trickle in, he gave each a nod before getting back to the pieces of parchment. Seriously, a saintess healing all illness and injury? Of course, he was already accustomed to the many religions of the city claiming to do the same, such as the Red Priests and their ability to raise the recently deceased, but everyone knew that was nonsense.
"Bessaro, my friend, what's this all about?" a Keyholder asked, making him frown. The man asking was an upstart that he knew only made it onto the council after a lucky break.
"Read for yourself," he said, sliding one of the parchments down the table.
The man tilted his head. "A priestess of The Lord of Light healing the ill and injured? What's so special about that? These mummeries of the Red Temple are nothing new."
"No, not the Red God. Apparently, this is another lord of light, and based on the priestess, the religion is likely a new one from Yi Ti," Bessaro explained, one of the older Keyholders perking up at his words.
"Perhaps this Lord of Light has something to do with the vaunted Maiden-Made-of-Light they worship in Yi Ti," the white-bearded elder chimed in.
"As interesting as this is, what does any of this have to do with the Iron Bank?" the upstart asked, making a good point for once.
"You're right. If it were the sorcery alone, this wouldn't concern us," Bessaro paused, tossing over a few more parchments to the others. "It's the riches they've brought alone that we need to discuss."
The old man hummed, "Do we have more than just these words as proof?" he asked.
Bessaro nodded, "One of my subordinates will soon be delivering samples. We're still waiting on a few members of this council anyways."
The members present nodded at his words, willing to wait for what could be a profitable opportunity.
Luckily, it didn't take long for all the Keyholders to assemble, and shortly after a knock on the doors could be heard, his lackey entering along with four guards, each carrying a chest.
"Well, let's see it then," the upstart rubbed his hands together, standing up and opening the first chest.
Bessaro noticed the man frozen in apparent shock, hovering over the open chest. He rolled his eyes. Enough with the pageantry, get on with it, he thought.
"Incredible!" he exclaimed, slowly raising an elegant crystal chalice. Bessaro narrowed his eyes, he'd never seen such fine and clear glassware. He wondered if its durability would hold up.
Likely thinking the same, the upstart grabbed another of the cups, far from lightly clinking them together with no chips or cracks coming from the test, answering his unspoken question.
"If this is mass-producible, we can lower our imports from the slaver city," the upstart said, smiling widely.
Bessaro wondered if it was an act. He knew for sure that most of those present didn't at all care about the plights of slavery. They made plenty of coin dealing with them, and if keeping slavery out of Braavos wasn't so profitable, who knows what Braavos would look like today?
Bessaro signaled his lackey, watching the thin man struggle to heft the chest and place it in front of him. After all, he'd already stood from his chair one too many times today.
He picked out a strange cube with a hinge and, after opening it up, he frowned at the circle with an arrow, looking at Tycho for answers.
"My Lord, it is called a compass, supposedly it will always point north," his lackey explained, making him nearly drop the device in shock.
His hands trembled, and despite the effort, Bessaro hefted himself out of his seat once again, walking throughout the room, testing the device.
"This changes everything," he declared, gaining the attention of the others who were still gushing over the glassware.
"Tycho, show them," he ordered his man.
After more of the devices had been passed around and explained, he was pleased to see them all coming to the same realization.
No longer would their ships sail blind when the stars or sun couldn't be seen. Gone were the days of being lost at sea, and he could only imagine how this would speed up their trade voyages.
"I think I speak for all when I say that we need to meet the person behind this priestess," he told the room, seeing no one disagree with his words.
"Tycho, what do you know about the ones this priestess serves?" he demanded.
"Nothing, My Lord. She claims she serves none but her god," Tycho replied, making him roll his eyes.
"Fine, if that's the case, we must meet with this so-called saintess."
"Agreed, but we should send for her on the morrow. For now, we should plan what we'll be offering," the white-bearded Keyholder suggested.
"Alright, let's get down to brass tacks then," he said, beginning the long and boring deliberations.
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