Dawn had just arrived, and the port of Valyria New City had never been as crowded as it was today, not even on the day the capital was moved.
The port area was already as bright as day, but this was not from the rising sun; it was the firelight from countless torches in the hands of soldiers, illuminating the entire sea in red.
At the docks, warships were lined up neatly, masts like a forest, and the three-headed dragon flags flapped in the sea breeze. The three heads of the dragon faced different directions, symbolizing the power to control everything.
Viserys stood atop the highest tower of the Freehold, overlooking the grand scene at the distant port. Rhaenys stood by his side, wearing black and red dragon-riding gear, her long black hair fluttering in the morning wind.
Hanging at her waist was dark sister, its blade shimmering with a dark, undulating light. Viserys had given it to Rhaenys after bringing it back from the Wall; after all, it was originally a sword suited for a woman.
"Rhaenys, are you nervous?" Viserys turned his head to look at Rhaenys beside him and asked.
Rhaenys shook her head, but her hand gripped the hilt tightly. "I've waited for this day for a long time, brother—to avenge my parents and my brother."
Viserys looked at her closely. The fifteen-year-old girl had long since shed her childishness, her features now holding a touch of resolve. Those purple eyes were currently gazing toward the port, burning with the flames of revenge.
"Then let's go," he said, reaching out to grasp Rhaenys's hand to steady her. "Let the enemies in Westeros see clearly that the Targaryens have returned."
Soon, the sky had fully brightened. Workers at the docks were still loading the last batch of supplies onto the ships, and soldiers were queuing up to board in an orderly fashion. Because of their large numbers, boarding took quite some time.
Duke William and Missandei stood at the bow of the flagship, the "dragon king," checking the fleet's supply list one last time. Although Missandei was to remain in Valyria this time, her intelligence had earned her a temporary position in military logistics.
They were surrounded by a dozen scribes, each holding thick parchment scrolls, constantly reporting numbers. Missandei memorized them and verified the quantities.
"Two hundred and twenty capital warships, four hundred medium warships, three hundred longships, and three hundred transport ships," Missandei finally reported to Duke William. "The five thousand new troops of Valyria, the three thousand Unsullied, and all the prepared supplies have been loaded. Duke Clinton's army will rendezvous with you at Tyrosh..."
The Valyrian Peninsula army and Clinton's Narrow Sea Province army were scheduled to be the first wave to land, with supplies accompanying them. The infantry from the other provinces were scheduled for the second wave.
Finally, there were the imperial cavalry units, though they would first assemble at Tyrosh to reduce the difficulty of transporting horses and the fear the dothraki had of the Blackwater. Furthermore, for the entire imperial army crossing the sea, Clinton's Golden Company would serve as the vanguard.
Duke William nodded. Just then, a sound of hoofbeats came from the distance, and he turned his gaze toward the port.
Viserys rode a black horse, leading a squad of guards through the docks. He wore black and red armor with a three-headed dragon engraved on the breastplate. At his waist hung "Blackfyre" and "Bloodshadow." His silver hair peeked out from his helmet, exceptionally striking in the sunlight.
Rhaenys followed behind him on a small silver mare, her black hair tied in a ponytail, her purple eyes shining with excitement. She enjoyed being the center of attention alongside Viserys.
The crowds along the way automatically parted to create a path. The soldiers staying behind stopped to salute Viserys. The construction workers of the new city took off their hats and bowed. Merchants and peddlers from all over the world squeezed onto the roadside, craning their necks for a glimpse of the legendary dragon king.
Viserys dismounted at the end of the dock and stepped onto the high platform erected there, where many important figures of the empire had already gathered. For instance, Count Jon; his health was not suited for a long march, so Viserys left him behind.
However, he promised that after reclaiming the iron throne, Jon could return to King's Landing for his retirement. He also agreed to let Jon choose an heir from House Darry to inherit his title and granted him a new fief.
Daenerys also stood below the platform, surrounded by her three dragons. The surrounding crowd huddled together in fear of the giant dragons, leaving a large open space.
She was looking up, her purple eyes fixed on Viserys with a look of reluctance. Upon seeing Rhaenys, her lips pressed tightly together. Ashara stood beside Daenerys, her pale violet eyes also filled with reluctance, but even more so with determination.
After Viserys gave a brief speech, Kinvara emerged from the crowd. She wore her formal red priestess robes today, holding a bowl of burning sacred fire. She walked to the edge of the platform, faced the port, and began to chant a prayer, blessing the departing army.
"rhllor, lord of light, guardian of the flame, please protect the people of the true dragon, protect the wings of the dragons, protect the fleet crossing the sea. Let the enemy's fire dim before your flames, and let the darkness never swallow the light..."
The sacred fire danced in her hands as if responding to her prayer.
Many people on the docks fell silent, bowing their heads in prayer; they were followers of the red god. Even those who did not believe in the red god were moved by the solemn atmosphere.
When the prayer ended, Kinvara turned and nodded slightly to Viserys.
Viserys took a deep breath and turned toward the port.
"Set sail."
Margaery stood on the deck of the "dragon king," wearing clothes suited for travel, her brown hair tied in braids. Her gaze moved past the crowd to rest on Viserys, watching his spirited appearance with eyes full of admiration.
Those who were to accompany the army, apart from Rhaenys and Viserys, had already been arranged to board. Viserys would also board this ship later; after all, it would take some time for the army to reach Tyrosh, and he didn't want to arrive too early or ride Ghidorah the whole way. It was better to take a ship, especially with a beautiful companion.
At the docks, envoys from the various Free Cities gathered, looking toward the port and the platform. The envoy of the Sealord of Braavos gripped his notebook tightly, while Magister Illyrio of Pentos toyed with a gemstone ring on his finger, his eyes flickering.
They all knew that after today, the decaying situation in Westeros would be changed forever.
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