The holy city of Vaes Dothrak.
Khal Drogo swayed atop his horse, his face pale and his lips parched. His eyes seemed barely able to stay open, and after only a few steps, he tumbled headlong from his mount.
"Drogo! My sun and stars!"
Daenerys Targaryen leaped down from her silver mare and rushed to Khal Drogo's side, gathering him into her arms.
Previously, to maintain the future unity of the Dothraki, Aegon Targaryen had led the Golden Company to strike early and kill Khal Drogo's old rival, Khal Ogo of Lhazareen territory.
However, he had not expected that while Khal Drogo was once again raiding the region of Lhazareen territory, he would be cut down by another Khal who had also come to pillage.
Seeing their leader Khal Drogo on the brink of death, the Dothraki under his command began to grow restless. Some looked on with wavering eyes, and some even began to state openly:
"He can no longer lead the Dothraki. A Khal who cannot ride is no Khal." [Dothraki]
Daenerys Targaryen held her husband, Khal Drogo—her sun and stars—tightly, now at a complete loss for what to do.
When Khal Drogo's chest was first wounded, Daenerys Targaryen had asked Mirri Maz Duur, a Lhazareen slave she had saved, to apply a special poultice to speed the healing of the wound.
However, the poultice caused Khal Drogo's wound to itch and burn. He had torn it off not long after it was applied, which eventually led to the wound festering.
By now, after days of neglect, Khal Drogo's wound had worsened completely, causing him to fall from his mount.
"Mirri, can you save him?" Daenerys Targaryen had no other options left and could only turn to the seemingly capable Sorceress she had rescued, Mirri Maz Duur.
"Dear khaleesi, please trust me. I will use the blood magic passed down for generations by our Lhazareen people to save him," Mirri Maz Duur promised Daenerys Targaryen solemnly.
"Then I leave it to you, Mirri." Daenerys Targaryen looked at Mirri Maz Duur with hope, like a person about to die of thirst in the desert looking at an oasis not far ahead.
She had no choice but to move forward, even if that oasis was a false mirage projected in the desert.
"I beg of you," Daenerys Targaryen said sincerely once more.
"No problem, my khaleesi. I told you that I once studied under Archmaester Marwyn of The Citadel; he taught me how to treat the gravely injured."
Mirri Maz Duur nodded with a smile, but while she appeared kind on the surface, endless malice stirred in her heart.
My fallen people, I will avenge you.
She cried out repeatedly in her heart: Only death can pay for life.
...
Dragonstone.
"Under the sea, the mermen feast on starfish soup, and all the servants are crabs, I know, I know, oh, oh, oh."
A large boy with the appearance of a clown ran past Borin Storm, singing strange rhymes.
"Patchface, wait for me!" Princess Shireen Baratheon, daughter of Stannis Baratheon, followed close behind, the two of them playing along the way.
Borin Storm watched the strange boy, sighing in his heart: So many years had passed already.
Patchface was a court fool on Dragonstone. His face was tattooed with patterns; red and green motley covered his entire broad face and hairless scalp.
Steffon Baratheon, the father of Robert, Stannis, Renly, and Borin, had seen his cleverness and ransomed him from the many slaves in Volantis.
But on their return journey, the great ship Windproud, carrying Lord Steffon Baratheon, struck rocks and sank in a storm at Shipbreaker Bay, within sight of Storm's End and before the eyes of Stannis, Robert, and Borin.
The Lord and his lady were on board, along with over a hundred soldiers and sailors; there were no survivors.
In his youth, Patchface had been a very clever boy. However, after the shipwreck, his mind had broken along with his body.
Surviving the sea, he was now soft and flabby, sometimes twitching and trembling inexplicably, and sometimes unable to even speak clearly.
The fishermen said that while he was in the sea, he had been invited to an underwater palace by mermen, who taught him the ability to breathe underwater.
Just then, Patchface suddenly stopped not far in front of Borin Storm.
He stared blankly at Borin Storm, and began to dance while singing comically:
"Fire is burning, fire is burning, the stag is on fire. Blood is flowing, blood is flowing, blood flows from the little lion's spear tip."
As he sang this, Patchface suddenly reached out and touched Borin Storm's sturdy chest, tilting his head with a smile:
"My lord, it seems the blood is flowing from here."
Borin Storm didn't take the words to heart and was about to make a joke.
But Princess Shireen Baratheon took a running leap onto Patchface's back, laughing, "I caught you! Patchface, tell me a story about the bottom of the sea!"
With Princess Shireen's interruption, the head-tilting Patchface returned to his crazed state.
"Foolish crabs, starfish beds, the mermaid wants me for her groom. In the drowned god's temple, the banquet hall, round heads and long legs. Eight legs, eight legs, curling up the seaweed nearby. I accept, I accept, oh, oh, oh."
Patchface sang his strange, funny rhymes, making Princess Shireen Baratheon on his back laugh heartily, and the two of them ran off together.
As they walked, Princess Shireen Baratheon politely waved goodbye to Borin Storm, and Borin Storm smiled and waved back.
Princess Shireen Baratheon was the only child of Stannis Baratheon and Selyse Florent.
She was nine years old, with blue eyes, a square jaw, and the large ears inherited from House Florent.
She was a kind and lovely child.
However, greyscale had caused the skin on her left cheek and most of her neck to be covered in grey-black dead skin. On Dragonstone, Patchface was her only friend.
...
Dragonstone was covered in stone dragon statues, lifelike and towering.
Every time he saw these statues, Borin Storm wondered if they might be dragons that had contracted greyscale.
Just then, a voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Uncle, I heard you're leaving tomorrow?"
Arya Stark approached awkwardly with her hands behind her back. She kept her head down, kicking a small pebble into the churning waves below the island.
"Yes, His Majesty Stannis has taken Storm's End and is leading his troops toward King's Landing. Besides, some things must eventually come to a conclusion." Borin Storm's expression was complex, his heart filled with melancholy.
At this moment, he didn't know how to face his former student Joffrey Baratheon, especially after learning of Joffrey's status as a bastard. Years of affection were not something that could be severed so easily.
As he spoke, Borin Storm patted Arya Stark's head and said, "It's alright. My brother, His Majesty Stannis, is pressing in with an army of tens of thousands. We will surely win."
Borin Storm was very confident. In his view, the few thousand Gold Cloaks in King's Landing could never hold out against Stannis's army.
However, he felt an indescribable sensation in his heart. After a moment's thought, he unbuckled the House Stark valyrian steel sword, 'Ice', from his waist and handed it to Arya Stark, saying:
"This sword is the valyrian steel sword of your House Stark. It is now returned to its rightful owner."
Arya Stark took it timidly and held it to her chest. Clutching the sword, she sobbed, "Uncle, can you... not go?"
Arya Stark had a special intuition for death. Whenever she sensed the aura of death, she felt a sense of suffocation and detachment in her heart.
The last time she had felt this was the day before her father Eddard Stark died, and now she felt it again.
Borin Storm knelt down to wipe away the tears from the corners of Arya Stark's eyes and said with a smile:
"I promised my friend Ned that I would get you out safely. Now that I've fulfilled that promise, it's time for me to attend to my own affairs."
Although they had only spent a few months together, Arya Stark had developed a strong dependency on Borin Storm, much like she had for her father.
She threw herself into Borin Storm's arms and wept loudly, as if she would never see him again.
This embrace was as warm as her father Eddard Stark's. Arya cried, filled with regret over why she hadn't hugged her father like this before.
Borin Storm reached out to pat Arya Stark's back and said, "Girl, don't be so pessimistic. When I return this time, I'll take you to travel the world and see the sights beyond the Seven Kingdoms."
He thought to himself: If I had a daughter, she would probably be about the same age as Arya Stark.
In his youth, Borin Storm had once felt affection for a lady of House Florent. Unfortunately, he was only a bastard and could only watch as his beloved was married off to another.
So many years had passed in a flash...
"Girl, if... I mean if I don't come back, leave this place and go to High Heart to find a man named Jaqen H'ghar."
He also had some premonitions in his heart, but he had to go. Publicly, it was to help Stannis; privately, it was to completely sever the bond between himself and Joffrey.
However, Borin Storm did not trust the red priestess Melisandre on Dragonstone, especially after Maester Cressen died because of her.
Moreover, Melisandre had shown hostility the first time she saw Arya Stark, even saying, "I smell the scent of the Great Other on you."
Thinking of this, Borin Storm handed Arya Stark a special coin and taught her two phrases in High Valyrian:
"Valar Morghulis." [High Valyrian]
"Valar Dohaeris." [High Valyrian]
"Remember, you must take this coin to find him. If he asks who gave you this coin, tell him my name: Borin Storm."
Looking at the half-black, half-white face coin in her hand, Arya Stark pleaded:
"Uncle, Arya begs you, you must come back alive."
"Hahaha, don't worry."