The Sealord's Palace is the seat of the Sealord of Braavos, the most powerful authority in the Free Cities. To its north is the Purple Harbor, where Braavosi merchant ships dock beneath the palace's arches and towers. But today, the atmosphere in the Sealord's Palace was somewhat oppressive, as the Sealord felt his authority had been completely undermined.
Inside the Sealord's Palace, the aging Sealord had his son, Fergo, read aloud a letter from Westeros. The Sealord's hair was white, and with every word he heard, the wrinkles on his face deepened. He seemed to see that brat, that Targaryen brat, mocking him and desecrating the dignity of Braavos.
"Your esteemed Sealord, the murders that occurred near Riverrun in our Riverlands are truly shocking. Allow me to recount them for you. Two Faceless Men first murdered innocent guards of House Arryn and House Tully—this is the first great crime. Subsequently, they attempted to assassinate the second heir to the Iron Throne—this is the second great crime. Furthermore, the Faceless Men acted surreptitiously, carrying weapons of the god of cold, proving themselves slaves of the evil god of cold—this is the third great crime. All of the above can be attested to by the lords, gentlemen, and ladies of Westeros. What wrong have I done to warrant such maliciousness from the Faceless Men? If the Braavosi continue to be deluded and harbor the evil Faceless Men, then the destruction of Braavos is surely not far off, its century-old reputation ruined in an instant, becoming the public enemy of all humanity, forever nailed to the pillar of shame in history. Three days from now, on the fifteenth, I will arrive with my dragon group. Besides myself, I have also invited the Archons and Governors of the five great city-states of Tyrosh, Lys, Myr, Pentos, and Volantis, as well as observers from the Tall Men city-state of Saath, Qohor, and Norvos, to join me in this grand endeavor. If you feel it's not lively enough, I can also bring the Dothraki khal and the giants from Beyond the Wall. I hope the Sealord will give me a satisfactory answer." Fergo read the contents of the letter to his father. "Signed, Rhaegar Targaryen."
"Is he mad? Today is already the twelfth, we only have three days to prepare! By the time this letter arrived, it was too late for everything!" The Sealord picked up the beautiful purple sailboat wood carving from his desk, then smashed it to the ground, where it shattered into pieces. He then gasped for air. Fergo's pupils constricted; this sailboat was his father's beloved possession, yet he didn't care about it this time. Fergo silently picked up the fragments.
"That brat, who does he think he is! Even his ancestor, the Conqueror, wouldn't dare to trouble me like this!" The Sealord snatched the letter from Fergo's hand, feeling as if the Silver Dragon seal on the envelope had come alive, mocking his incompetence.
"Besides the Targaryen brat's seal, there are seals from other city-states! The Archon of Tyrosh, the Silver Dragon's concubine. The Council of Governors of the Triarchy of Lys and Myr, those are his puppets. Even Rhaegar Targaryen's Lysian dog, a thief by birth, born of a prostitute, now calls himself the great Lysandro, wielding immense influence in Lysian politics. And the Pentosi, and the Volantenes, who have always been at odds with us, have all affixed their seals. Norvos and Qohor don't have seals, but their neutrality is also a stance!" The Sealord looked at so many seals, his heart filled with helplessness. In this instant, in this moment, he truly became the public enemy of humanity. Mainly, this scandal was indeed too outrageous, and the actions too wild, with the assassination failing and even involving the god of cold from Beyond the Wall.
"I truly regret it, regret not having killed this child when he and his dragon group were still young! Let him die by drowning, let him choke, let him fall from a horse! Now the evil dragon group has grown, and they are turning around to bite us!" The Sealord said helplessly, harboring resentment for the past.
"Young dragon groups have a high mortality rate, Father. We didn't anticipate these things. The Silver Dragon is skilled in sorcery; he hid it very well! What we need to consider now, in this very moment, is what we should do!" Fergo comforted his father.
"Have the Faceless Men responded?" the Sealord asked his son.
"No!" Fergo's face was also grim; war was imminent, and the people of Braavos were agitated. "Information from the Admiral, merchants, and Iron Bank administrators assures us that they did not offer tribute to the Faceless Men to request an assassination! I imagine it would be difficult for other Free Cities powers to have such capital, and such a matter should have been discussed with us first."
"It wouldn't be them! They don't have the courage, nor the power to have the Faceless Men carry out an assassination!" The Sealord stopped his son's words, his eyes filled with anger. "Assassinating a Dragonrider, especially a Dragonrider who might carry the true legacy of Valyrian sorcery, would be staggeringly expensive. If any of the Admiral, merchants, or Iron Bank administrators had such boldness and financial resources, then now, that person should be the Sealord! Not me!"
"You suspect the Faceless Men acted independently!" Fergo said, sharing the same thought.
"That's almost the only answer. These damned people, such a huge commotion, yet they didn't consult me beforehand. What if it fails? If the plan fails, are the people of Braavos to die for the reckless actions of these people?" the Sealord roared furiously.
"Summon everyone; this is not just my affair! Bring the Admiral, the leaders of the Fishermen's, Financiers', and Merchants' Guilds, the priests of the Temple of the Moonsingers, and that damned leader of the Temple of the Faceless Men, to the Sealord's Palace for a council!" The Sealord's summons essentially called together the upper echelons of Braavos. The navy is the backbone, fishing, finance, and commerce are the three major industries, the Moonsingers represent faith, and the Faceless Men are assassins.
"Father, what if the priest of the Temple of the Faceless Men doesn't come?" Fergo asked.
"Let him be! If he still doesn't come, then I will have to go and greet him myself!" the Sealord hastily arranged.
"Also, as my special envoy, you are responsible for telling Admiral Ferrega to prepare the fleet for a counterattack and to conceal it well. You are responsible for the counterattack of the Titan of Braavos! And for the prophecies of the Moonsinger priests! In a last resort, we will need to resist with force! This moment of crisis for Braavos is also your opportunity to shine, to prove yourself before the people. I cannot look after you forever!"
"Yes, Father!" Fergo said, then left in a hurry. He understood that the gap between him and Rhaegar was growing ever wider; it seemed they were no longer on the same level. Without his father's protection, it would be difficult to maintain balance.
"The Long Night is perilous, darkness everywhere!" The voice of the Red Priestess rang out in the city of Braavos, followed by a large number of citizens trailing after the prayers of the Red Priests. "The Faceless Men have brought forth the god of cold and the wrath of the Dragonrider! Go to hell, Faceless Men!"
"Expel the Faceless Men!" "Expel the Faceless Men!" The people of Braavos were agitated, now truly feeling a sense of doom. The Silver Dragon was coming, fire would sweep through Braavos, and hell would arrive.
"Hurry, run far away from the Dragonrider's revenge!" "These damned Faceless Men are no match, can the Braavosi succeed?" The people of Braavos were in a bad state of mind, and merchants from other city-states were already planning to flee, lest they suffer collateral disaster in Braavos. Especially the Triarchy, a city-state brought down by the Silver Dragon, had no faith that Braavos had any good counter-measures. Braavos was a maritime power, and battles were always fought at sea, far from Braavos. If an enemy invaded directly, regardless of victory or defeat, Braavos would surely be reduced to ashes.
There were still three days until the war, like a countdown, everyone felt that disaster was imminent. When the Silver Dragon would arrive, and whether it would burn Braavos, were unknowns. So, although it was still deep in the night, the people of Braavos were still worried, and merchant ships fleeing overnight could not be stopped, only barely maintaining order. Braavos, the Secret City, which fled here to escape the Dragonrider in ancient times, now had its veil lifted. In the deep night, the sea fog had not yet dissipated. When Braavos became known to the world, this layer of sea fog was actually not so reliable.
One can only hope that the great Titan of Braavos can come to life and fight the Silver Dragon! The Titan of Braavos is a colossal statue of stone and bronze, guarding the entrance to Braavos's great lagoon. It is Braavos's first line of defense; whenever a ship approaches, the Titan of Braavos lets out a mighty roar, notifying the arsenal of the ship's arrival. At dusk, the Titan of Braavos roars to announce sunset.
Black specks began to appear in the sky above Braavos, so tiny until they burst through the clouds, and the roar of the Silver Dragon echoed across the heavens. At this moment, the Braavosi who had not yet fallen asleep all noticed the creatures swaggering in the sky—they were the Silver Dragon. The image of the Silver Dragon gradually became real, moving as fast as lightning. In the mists of Braavos, the full form of the Silver Dragon had already emerged. Braavos, this sleepless city, its people all saw the image of the dragon group, the Silver Dragon was so real that it transported them back to the time when they were terrorized by the Silver Dragon.
The Silver Dragon circled Braavos, from the high towers of the Sealord's Palace, from the docks, from Mud Town. Everyone heard the roar of the Silver Dragon. At this moment, no matter who they were—courtesans, nobles, swordsmen, small seafood vendors—their lives were besieged by a great terror.
Many years ago, when a ship of slaves being transported from Sothoryos to the Valyrian Freehold rebelled, a group of Jogos Nhai slave women from the Jogos Nhai plains took control of the slave ship and steered it north. They prophesied a place that could serve as a sanctuary for everyone: behind pine-covered hills and sea rocks, there was a lagoon, perpetually foggy, capable of obscuring the eyes of the Dragonrider flying overhead, preventing them from discovering these refugees. These women were the Moonsingers, and according to Braavosi historical records, their prophecy came true. For this, the largest temple in Braavos, the Temple of the Moonsingers, was built.
"Ha!" Rhaegar made the Silver Dragon spit out a fireball that exploded in the sky, like a glowing moon. The fireball was very high up, mainly to clear the visibility.
"It's the Targaryen dragon group, the Dragonrider has arrived!"
"It's a dragon!"
"My heavens! It, it's the Silver Dragon!"
"What's going on!" The terror in Braavos reached its peak at this moment. The sounds of running, shouting, and children's crying mingled together. The Sealord received the letter today, but the Silver Dragon also arrived today. What 'three days later,' it was all a deception. Everyone saw the image of the Silver Dragon, that beautiful and terrifying beast of the human world, living for war. The Silver Dragon's ferocious horns, sharp teeth, and those spines, its gleaming scales. The Silver Dragon's wings flapped, like a sudden clap of thunder.
"Where is the Silver Dragon going?" Braavos fell into panic; the Silver Dragon had arrived.
"It's the Sealord's Palace!" Everyone temporarily breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed the trouble wasn't coming for them, but to have a chat with the Sealord. If the Dragonrider had gone mad, then it would be a direct firebombing right now!
Braavos is a city of stone, a grey city in a green ocean, but Braavos has many wonders. If King's Landing's wonders are the Red Keep, the Great Sept of Baelor, and the Dragonpit, then Braavos boasts over twenty temples, palaces, and high towers, each more magnificent. The dragon group arrived just north of the Sealord's Palace in Braavos. The Purple Harbor is even further north of the Sealord's Palace, and the Sealord's residence is on the water, connected by stone bridges, with high towers and domes. Rhaegar estimated that the Braavosi nobles were still there, which was a good opportunity to capture them all in one fell swoop.
"Your Lord Sealord, I have arrived rather abruptly, please forgive my sudden appearance!" Rhaegar shouted loudly above the Sealord's Palace, his voice like steel thunder. The roar of the Silver Dragon was like a tide, never ceasing, and in the next moment, fire and fury were about to pour down.
The shrieks of the Silver Dragon drowned out everything. The guards in the Sealord's residence were also startled; this was a sudden attack. The guards formed a formation, resolute in their will to die, needing to hold out until the naval fleet from Purple Harbor arrived.
"Fire arrows!" The Sealord's guards had now reacted, shouting, their honor above all else. They were the last line of defense for the Sealord, naturally elite tigers, but unfortunately, they posed no threat before the giant dragon group.
The guards' arrows fell like rain, but without hindrance. Azure flames became armor, and all arrows dissolved. Rhaegar didn't want to engage these people, so he ignored them.
The Silver Dragon saw the tall and majestic Sealord's Palace, still brightly lit, which was far too conspicuous. The Sealord's Palace had a grand dome, with tall floor-to-ceiling glass windows on both sides, pane after pane, very beautiful; it was a large and luxurious hall. Rhaegar was too lazy to enter through the bronze and iron gates; he had his own idea. By now, the Braavosi must have been prepared.
"Your Lord Sealord, I'll send you a gift first!" The Silver Dragon flew above the Sealord's Palace. Rhaegar swung hard, and a charred, cloth-wrapped corpse shattered the glass, flying in first. Then, the Silver Dragon's tail lashed out, smashing all the tall glass windows on both sides of the Sealord's Palace. Rhaegar steered the Silver Dragon directly in from the side.
Rhaegar saw those people: the Sealord, the Sealord's son, Rhaegar's acquaintance Fergo, the Admiral of Braavos, the heads of Braavos's three major merchant guilds, the master of the Iron Bank of Braavos, and the mystical Moonsinger priest.
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