Chapter 127: Melisandre and Davos Arrive in Tyrosh
The Stepstones, Tyrosh, South Port
As the sun slowly sank below the horizon, the blood-red afterglow spread across the sea outside Tyrosh's South Port, making it seem as though the waters themselves had turned to blood.
Just as the Chainbreakers stationed at the harbor gates prepared to close them, an old sailing ship appeared in the distance.
The vessel looked weathered and ancient. Its hull, made from rough oak, resembled the pitted face of an old man. Years of wind and waves had carved countless scars into it, each mark telling a story of hardship.
Three tall masts rose into the sky, their sails billowing in the sea breeze like swollen white loaves of bread.
As the ship approached, several passengers stepped onto the deck, gazing toward Tyrosh with anticipation.
Among them, a woman in red robes stared at the city with a complicated expression. Beside her stood a bearded middle-aged man, his gaze equally conflicted.
Ser Davos Seaworth—the Onion Knight—had never trusted this woman.
If not for her, his king, Stannis Baratheon, would never have burned the statues of the Seven on Dragonstone.
Normally, Melisandre avoided matters of war and diplomacy. Yet when she heard Davos was being sent to Tyrosh to seek allies, she insisted on accompanying him.
At first, Stannis had refused to consider any alliance with Jon. In his eyes, he alone was the rightful king of the Iron Throne.
But reality had forced his hand.
Aside from his loyal followers on Dragonstone, Stannis had little strength left. Without control of the Royal Fleet, his cause might have collapsed entirely.
Still, Stannis was no fool.
After Eddard Stark's rescue, he had traveled to Braavos, struck a deal with the Iron Bank, and returned with gold and sellswords.
"My old friend Salladhor Saan now serves in Tyrosh. I sent word ahead. Once we meet him, we can arrange an audience with Aegon Targaryen."
Though Davos disliked Melisandre deeply, their goals aligned—for now.
"I will leave such matters to you, Ser Davos. The Lord of Light watches over us."
"With respect, my lady, I follow the Seven—not your Lord of Light."
Davos could not hide his irritation.
The memory of the burned statues still weighed heavily on him.
"The Lord of Light is the One. Your Seven are but aspects of Him. I merely returned them to their source. In truth, we worship the same god—you simply refuse to see it."
Davos wisely said nothing further.
He had argued with her before, and each time, she had twisted his words until he could no longer respond.
This time, however, Melisandre did not continue preaching.
Instead, she stared at Tyrosh in silence.
Ever since receiving a vision from the flames, she had come to Westeros seeking the prophesied savior—the prince who would wield Lightbringer.
Yet recently, her power had begun to fade.
That terrified her.
No matter how many sacrifices she made, no new visions came.
Until now.
When Davos proposed seeking allies, she saw something in the flames—a sigil, a dragon entwined with a wolf, flying above Tyrosh.
That was why she convinced Stannis to send this mission.
After docking and passing inspection, the two were greeted by Salladhor Saan.
Davos nearly failed to recognize him.
Gone were the extravagant silks and gold. Instead, Salladhor wore the robes of a mage, a book hanging at his waist and a staff in hand.
"Ah, my dear friend Davos! The last time I saw you, you were sailing to relieve Storm's End. And now—you're a noble!"
"Y-yes… it has been a long time… you look… different."
Davos struggled for words.
"Hahaha! You've had your journey, and I've had mine. Knowledge has made me stronger. I am no longer the man I was."
Salladhor embraced him warmly.
"And who is this beautiful lady?"
"I nearly forgot. This is Melisandre, a priestess of the Lord of Light."
Davos glanced at her, puzzled by her unusual silence.
"Oh! A priestess of the Lord of Light! Excellent! We've recently expanded its temple here. Lord Aegon supports any faith willing to cooperate. Only the followers of the Black Goat refused… so their temple was removed."
"I see… I will visit in time. But first, we bring a proposal from King Stannis. We would like to meet Lord Aegon as soon as possible."
"Lord Aegon is quite busy. However, I can arrange for you to meet Lady Jeyne Belaerys. She handles many matters in his stead."
"We—"
Suddenly, Melisandre froze.
A crushing pressure descended upon her.
Then came the whispers.
"Find her…"
"I must find her…"
"Find her…"
Davos frowned.
"My lady?"
"I… I am fine… take us… to her."
Her voice had become hoarse, like that of an old woman.
"Are you certain?"
"I said… let's go."
Though uneasy, Davos said nothing more.
As they walked through Tyrosh, the city remained lively even at dusk.
The streets were filled with people, laughter, and movement.
Workers on stilts lit the glass lamps lining the roads, illuminating the city in a warm glow.
Davos stared in astonishment.
"Is it always like this? How is it managed at night?"
"Through order," Salladhor replied with pride. "The City Watch—and the Residents' Mutual Aid Association."
Davos noticed elderly people among them, each wearing a red cloth on their shoulder.
"What can they possibly do? In a crisis, they'd be useless."
Salladhor chuckled.
"On the contrary. They are among our most valuable assets. Recently, several spies were uncovered because of them."
Davos frowned.
"Because no one pays attention to them," Salladhor continued. "Underestimation is their greatest weapon."
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