286AC
It had been early in the year in Asshai when the old woman had called upon them once again. They had learned much in her temple, and in the wastes beyond it. Daenerys had learned to see the fires as she did, being born again in the fires of R'hllor, and both of them had come to understand the art of weaving shadows, though the knowledge of the Old Woman's true position only served to make her more terrifying.
High-Priestess of the Temple of R'hllor, and one of the three Sorcerer-Lords of Asshai, the Red Witch of the Fire. Even the people of the black city, cynical and knowledgeable as they were, only spoke the titles if her and the other lords with a reverent terror, for none knew their names, nor for how long they had ruled. Some whispered in hushed voices that they had ruled since the last long-night, that they were the shadows made flesh or heralds of the Gods. Only one remained in the city at a time, and their power was unmatched within its walls.
The Black Demon of the Ash was the current ruler, though she had not seen him herself. Men said that he was ten feet tall, clad head to toe in an armor unrecognizable to any nation upon the world and that his eyes glowed with an incandescent blue fire that filled all who saw it with a cold dread.
There amongst the black and red spires of the Temple of R'hllor, where slaves burned through day and night to bring his light to even this place of shadow and ash, she and Daenerys had been educated, shown the true nature of fire, and of shadow, and the ancient rights of R'hllor which even now awaited for his return to the world.
Oh how she had loved to walk the libraries of Asshai, to read from tomes ten thousand years old to young Daenerys, to feel the power of her magic there, so close to its source. It was intoxicating and beautiful all at once.
So rich and so vast was the knowledge held in those vaulted halls of dark basalt, so great their promised secrets, that she felt it almost a shame to leave, even at the old woman's call, but bound she was, bound to the old woman's breastfeeding just as Daenerys was bound to hers, and thus they set sail for Yi-Ti, leaving the black and poisonous waters of Asshai behind them.
They had sailed across the Jade Sea, arriving in the land of Yin, to an inn in the shadow of the towering palace of the Azure Emperor, where they awaited the old woman's coming.
They did not have to wait long. On the third day of their stay there, she had strode into the Tavern, tall and powerful and dressed in an ornate red robe that bore a thousand intricacies woven through it. Her grey hair that at last sight had been scraggly, was now combed straight and held in a tight bun, and she was less wrinkly and shriveled than she had been, though she still lacked her teeth.
Her blind eyes though, they were just the same as always and as always they did not hamper her path or purpose, she strode to the table where Mellisandre and Daenerys sat as if the crowd was not present.
"Mellisandre," she said her voice indecipherable. "I see you have taken to shaping the clay properly. Good."
She tried to not let her pride at the praise show through, though she noted that Daenerys had no such qualms, and we beaming openly.
"Of course, mother. Though I note that your own clay is absent."
"It needed to be let bake for some time, though it is nearly time to reclaim it from the oven, that is why I have called you."
The old woman turned her sightless gaze to Daenerys. "Do you still fear your brother girl?"
"No," Daenerys said with pride and disdain. "If he tried to harm me now I would see him dead before his hands could touch my skin."
"Good, good… though it is dangerous to be so sure of yourself, for he is not so frail as you once knew him. He has grown just as you have, perhaps more so in fact." The old woman's gaze turned back to her. "We are almost ready to start the first fire."
"So soon?" Mellisandre sat back in her chair. "I had thought we were to wait until the coming of the eye?"
"No. The plan must be moved forward. The Great Other's champion has already conceived of a new magic in the west. If we wait he will only grow in strength until it's gestation is over and it is born into this world in full. Our Faith must by then be strong enough to match it, lest darkness swallow creation."
Mellisandre felt a chill run down her spine. "How long do we have?"
"I do not know, where the other's champion walks the fires are extinguished. I know only that we must hurry. Prophecy must be crafted and fate's purposes fulfilled."
Mellisandre nodded sharply. "What must I do, mother?"
"We will go west, and collect Viserys from Yunkai." The old woman smiled widely, exposing her few remaining teeth. "And then we will begin the second stage of his shaping."
"The Azor Ahai needs to know war, after all."