"I've heard that only those in the North of Westeros who worship the Old Gods can become Skinchangers. Does Asshai also have Weirwood trees? Do they worship the Old Gods too?" Daenerys asked.
"Daenerys, do you know what the Old Gods are, or what a Skinchanger is?" Quaithe countered.
Daenerys glanced at Jorah. "Are the Old Gods the large trees carved with human faces?"
"Those are Heart Trees. The Old Gods are a collective term for many ancient deities," Jorah explained slowly.
"The Old Gods are a faith that believes all things possess a spirit. As believers, Skinchangers awaken the spirits of nature and can merge with animals that have spirits," Quaithe told Daenerys. "An wise old Skinchanger from beyond the Wall in the Sunset Lands told me this."
"Wildlings from beyond the Wall?" Jorah exclaimed. "How did they get all the way to Asshai, thousands of miles away?"
"The Wildlings you speak of are also intelligent people. They yearn for wisdom and civilization. But beyond the Wall, he felt a deep despair because you all hate Skinchangers so much."
"So, he came to the temple of the mysterious figure, Quaithe of the Shadowlands," Quaithe said slowly, her masked face turned toward Daenerys.
"Daenerys, the Andals' Westeros has no place for you. Or your dragons." The words seemed to float weightlessly into Daenerys's ear, yet no one else reacted.
*Telepathy?*
Daenerys was startled.
For the next few days, she remained uneasy, afraid to be alone with Quaithe.
She asked Jorah and the warlock, but both the wizard and the magician confirmed that they couldn't perform "material" attacks like conjuring fireballs or hurling ice cones. Their magic only allowed them to harm others indirectly through spells, shadows, and blood.
Fearing Quaithe might secretly cast the Shadowbinding Art on her, Daenerys began having her maids take turns keeping her company at night.
Yet her fears seemed unfounded. After that night, Quaithe never spoke to her again or sought opportunities to be alone with her.
Only after they left the Red Waste and entered Qarth did Daenerys finally gather her courage. "Esteemed Shadowbinder," she asked, "do you know the sorcerous spells of Ancient Valyria?"
"You wish to learn?" Quaithe, though she never initiated conversation, had never refused her requests.
"Ah, the world is so treacherous. I don't want to be harmed by evil wizards again," Daenerys sighed mournfully.
"I don't understand Valyrian spells. They're of no use to me. But if you're willing, you could go to Asshai. They might have someone there who can teach you," Quaithe said in a low voice. "News from the Shadowlands suggests that descendants of the Ancient Valyrian bloodwizards are still active somewhere."
"That's too far. I want to be Queen of Westeros," Daenerys shook her head.
At noon the next day, Daenerys finally saw Qarth, the city Xaro had always described as a heavenly paradise.
*Clang!*
A crisp, metallic gong suddenly rang out from the sandstone walls, the same color as the Red Waste. "The Stormborn Targaryen, Daenerys, Mother of Dragons, has arrived!"
The cry echoed through the city, reaching Daenerys even half a mile from the gates.
Before she could ask Xaro what was happening, *Woo-woo-woo—*
Another long, resonant blast of a horn sounded.
Looking up, she saw a circle of burly, dark-skinned men standing atop the ten-meter-high walls. Their bare torsos emerged above the battlements, revealing muscular bodies coiled around strange, bronze-like horns that resembled colossal serpents.
*Clatter, clatter, clatter.*
A squadron of camel cavalry emerged from the city in orderly fashion. The camels were draped in brightly colored blankets, and their humps bore ornate saddles inlaid with rubies and garnets that glittered in the sunlight.
The riders were equally well-equipped, clad in uniform bronze scale armor and wearing long-snouted helmets adorned with copper teeth and long black plumes—Daenerys couldn't discern which animal's head the helmets were meant to mimic.
As if specially prepared for Daenerys's arrival, the city gate facing the Red Waste was cleared of all onlookers. Two lines of camel riders stretched out from the gate, extending a full 200 meters into the wilderness.
"Hoh hoh hoh!" The riders raised their gleaming bronze spears in unison, their voices rising in a unified cheer.
Colored ribbons were tied to the spear tips, fluttering like clouds of mist as the arms rose and fell.
The Qarthians offered no polite greetings like "Welcome, Mother of Dragons, to Qarth." Instead, they welcomed their guest with the most fervent of actions.
Daenerys rode her camel side-by-side with Xaro at the front of the procession. Jorah, the Bloodriders, the warlock, and Quaithe followed close behind.
As Daenerys approached the city walls, she noticed they were built of red rock and carved with all manner of animals: slithering snakes, soaring kites, gliding fish, wolf packs howling at the moon on hills, and even zebras and elephants.
But as she neared the gate, the heavy, copper-inlaid wooden doors that had just closed creaked open again, swinging outward.
Qarth had three layers of walls. After passing through the outer wall's gate, a group of children ran up, baskets of flowers slung over their shoulders. They giggled as they followed Daenerys's camel, showering her with colorful petals. She returned their smiles with her sweetest.
Inwardly, she couldn't help but mock the Qarthi's peculiar customs. The children wore only golden sandals on their feet, their bodies bare but not naked. Instead, they were covered in vibrant, painted murals.
The middle wall, 12 meters high and built of gray granite, was also carved with images, though not of beasts. These depicted vivid scenes of war: warriors clashing swords, shields shattering, arrows raining down on the battlefield, heroes fighting, infants being slaughtered, and pyres burning fiercely.
The iron-banded solid oak gates swung open, and a sudden flood of cheers and roars surged into the gate passage, the sound of countless voices erupting in celebration.
Between the outer and inner walls lay a long street lined with vividly colored buildings. There stood dreamlike rose-colored stone towers, violet-hued spires, and bronze arches inlaid with emeralds.
Balconies overflowed with Qarth's onlookers. Women wore togas that bared one breast, while men favored silk robes adorned with pearls.
The fair-skinned Qarth people showered red rose petals from above, waved colorful silk scarves, and shouted greetings to Daenerys.
*Ding-dong-ding!* The city's high tower bell chimed, and a peculiar smile spread across Daenerys's face.
*This is the moment for the Undead Overture,* she thought. *I'm Arthas, accepting my people's cheers as I march to the palace to slay my father.*
The inner wall, fifteen meters high and constructed of black marble, was carved with scenes of male and female lovers—in other words, explicit murals.
This revealed a glimpse into Qarth's customs.
As Daenerys approached, the gate of the inner city, studded with countless golden eyes, slowly opened like the mouth of a colossal beast.
Only the pedestrians on the street paused, observing Daenerys and her entourage with curious gazes. There was no special welcoming ceremony within the inner city.
Daenerys saw towers that were nothing short of miracles in this world. Their soaring spires clustered densely like a jungle, and every square featured exquisite fountains shaped like animals.
Under the midday sun, a delicate rainbow arched across the sky, a breathtaking sight.
The wealthy merchant, Qarth, proudly told Daenerys, "Qarth is the greatest city in all of history. It is the center of the world, the gateway connecting north and south, the bridge between east and west. Its ancient glory surpasses human memory. It makes all other cities in the world seem ugly and dim in comparison."
*What a load of crap,* Daenerys thought. *If Ancient Valyria still existed, you wouldn't dare speak like that to the Dragonlord.*
"Indeed," Daenerys replied cheerfully, "I've been to almost all the Nine Free Cities, except Volantis. None of them can compare to this pearl of the Strait."
She couldn't help but notice the statues lining the colonnaded streets. The ancient heroes of Qarth stood majestically on white marble pedestals.
It seemed as if they were waiting for the day the Dothraki would come to plunder them and carry them off to Vaes Dothrak, to be displayed on the Avenue of the Gods alongside two hundred billion stone idols.
Passing through the colonnaded streets, Xaro stopped before a marketplace. This was the intersection of several alleys, where Daenerys had to decide which path to take next and which house to visit.
The marketplace was housed within a massive, multi-faceted building, its grid-like ceiling serving as home to thousands of brightly colored birds.
Dense trees and flowers grew on platforms above the shops, while within, goods of every kind were displayed in dazzling profusion, a convergence of exquisite creations from across the world.
"Oh, Daenerys, my peerless beauty," the merchant declared with exaggerated flourish, "whatever catches your eye, merely part your lips, and I shall have it at your feet instantly."
"The entire city of Qarth is hers; she has no need for these trinkets," the Blue-lipped Pyat Pree called out loudly from the other side. "Listen to me, Khaleesi. Come to the House of the Undying with me, and you shall drink from the wells of truth and wisdom."
"Hahaha, what can your dusty House of the Undying offer her?" Xaro retorted proudly to the Great Warlock. "The Thirteen will present her with a crown of black jade and fire opals."
Daenerys's face lit up with delight, and she politely refused the warlock's offer. "Lord Pyat, you know my origins and the desires of my heart. Qarth is a beautiful city, but it's not a place I can call home. I won't hide my feelings: day and night, I long to return to the Red Keep in King's Landing. That is where my true palace lies."
*You'd best not harbor any wicked schemes, or one day I'll lead a hundred thousand Dothraki warriors to sack this city.*
She seethed inwardly, but on the surface, she had to convince the Qarthi that she posed no threat and harbored no ambitions.
Pyat's blue lips curled into what seemed like an elegant smile, but inwardly, he mocked Daenerys's naiveté for trusting the words of a shameless merchant.
*Just wait. One day, you'll come to me willingly.*
"Khaleesi, you possess wisdom beyond your years. Please accept my gift, and let's speak again another day." He offered her a jar of ointment and nodded. "On your journey to Qarth, you showed a hunger for mystical power. This holy oil will help you see the Spirits of the Air."
Once Daenerys accepted the gift, he mounted his camel and rode off in another direction.
"Your Majesty made the wisest choice," the merchant said softly, watching the warlock's retreating figure. "There's a Qarthi saying: 'A warlock's house is built on bones and lies.'"
*We're all cut from the same cloth. Why should the crow laugh at the pig for being black?*
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(End of Chapter)