Volantis shimmered beneath the orange glow of sunset as smoke rose from the Red Temple's thousand fires. Within its obsidian halls, chants of R'hllor echoed endlessly. Andrew Nocthoris, now a boy of seven, moved silently between pillars carved with flame glyphs.
The priests watched him with awe and fear. When he walked near candles, they bowed as if in prayer. Flames would rise to greet him.
Baelor Akshai, High Flame of the temple, watched the boy spar with wooden spears—never missing, never flinching. In the firelight, Baelor read the prophecy aloud:
"From ash and shadow shall rise fire's vengeance, borne in blood and bound to dragon flame."
Baelor took Andrew's face in his hands that night and whispered, "You are the flame vengeance. The world does not know it yet—but it will."