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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 89: Crowding Mysteries
🕑 Added 2025-10-19 14:00:14 +0000 UTCChapter 89: Crowding Mysteries
123 AC, Volantis
Pyat Pree watched the assembly, disliking that his presence was required after so long. Alas, fate mandated that he would be in this place, should fulfil the Undying Ones’ purpose. He was close, he could almost feel it in his bones. Alas, even after a long time searching, he and his warlocks were always late for the aberration. Pyat Pree had decided that a new approach was necessary, hence why he had even agreed to enter this meeting.
Across from him was a small contingent of Red Priests, a few Shadowbinders, Aeromancers, and even the few remaining Rhoynar mages, even if they were a pale shadow of what they used to be. Trying to be discreet were the Alchemists of Lys, with a contingent of a few minor pyromancer guilds that had just gained notoriety in the past few moons, and even a few of Qohor’s blacksmiths.
All in all, most large and small magical sects in the continent met in Volantis at the behest of the Red Faith. Of course, a few cowardly sects had chosen to hide away, with the most notable one being the Faceless Men, or any Braavosi sect for that matter.
Magic was rapidly gaining a lot of influence since the Second Doom of Valyria, or as Pyat Pree wished to call it, the Great Awakening. Magic now moved freely in the world, as it had during the Doom, and with it, much of their fading power had resurged. Pyat Pree expected many rebellions and uprisings recently, perhaps even rivalling the Century of Blood. After all, it wasn’t just the Dragons who had fallen, but magic users who had lost much of their power.
Unfortunately, this happened at a time when the Red Faith was at its strongest and had cornered most of the rogue magic users in the continents, having either subsumed them or outright eliminated them as threats.
And yet, Pyat Pree wasn’t concerned, for the Warlocks of Qarth were too mighty and too established for the Red Faith to pose a true threat to them and were also empowered by the resurgence in magic.
He still couldn’t help but marvel at the power he held now. He could now command illusions on a scale he had never dreamt of before, and he could even now fool many senses at once, and he felt like he was only starting. No wonder that the old Warlocks were so feared, if they even had a fragment of his power.
Nevertheless, despite the great power he was offered, he still had to obey his masters. The Undying Ones had grown in power, much like he did, but their purpose remained the same. To be truly Eternal.
And they would do so by binding Death to them, to become truly undying, to master Death itself. With their newfound power, they would wipe out the Red Faith from existence and gain true magical dominion over Essos, untouched by time or space.
Pyat Pree could almost see it. He knew that they would succeed, for he was their avatar, their representative to the mortal world outside the tower of the Undying. And one day, he would ascend to their ranks and enjoy the fruits of his labours.
Unfortunately, his patience was quickly running out with so much incompetence in the assembly, especially as a member of one of the Pyromancer guilds started to fight with a Rhoynar mage, both equally as pathetic as one another. Truly, the resurgence of magic blessed too many unworthy mages. They were akin to children who had received power that they could not appreciate. They did not know of the mages who had languished in obscurity, powering spells through careful sacrifices and rituals. They would learn eventually, likely when it would be too late to be of help.
Deciding that entertaining this farce was at an end, he weaved a great illusion of thousands of himself around the room, each one calmly stating, “Cease your foolishness.”
Of course, the sheer number of his illusions echoed across the room and finally, the High Priest of R’hllor, Benerro, stood up “Thank you, Pyat Pree,” before turning towards the rest of the assembly, “I address you all, the ones blessed by power beyond that most would ever imagine, and ask that for the duration of this meeting, we would all set aside out differences. We will speak with the civility that this situation requires and let it be known that ignoring this warning would be a clear violation of the sanctity of the Temples of the Lord of Light and will earn you the enmity of the Red Faith and all that entails.”
Silence spread across the entire room, especially as the hundreds of flames rose in the air in an intimidating manner, as the man continued speaking. Finally, the fire settled back to normal, and Benerro continued, “I am happy with your understanding. I have sent invitations far and wide in Essos for a very singular reason, and that is our survival. Many turns of moon ago, the Lord of Light gave me a warning, a vision of a God perishing in Death’s embrace. I have sent one of the Priestesses of my order, Kinvara, to track down the source of this Darkness, so that we may slay it as the Lord of Light commanded us. In her quest, she joined with a group of Warlocks from Qarth on their journey to Valyria. Soon after, the Second Doom occurred, leaving no survivors from the devastation that it brought.”
Benerro’s speech was met with a few murmurs, but he quickly silenced them with a gaze. “I almost lost faith in Kinvara, blamed myself for letting such a fervent priestess, a true follower of R’hllor, die from the same darkness that the Lord of Light guided me into confronting. And so, I focused on calming the masses, for the Doom was felt keenly in Volantis, and many feared that this great city would be hit again, just as it was during the first Doom. The Lord of Light rewarded us so, by both preventing devastation from affecting the city and also saving Kinvara, the only true witness of the Second Doom of Valyria.”
Whispers spread across the room as a woman confidently walked forward, with a bandage wrapped around her eyes, and traces of burns alongside her cheeks. It seemed like her blindness did not impede her very much.
Yet, Pyat Pree couldn’t help but widen his eyes at the sight of the woman. He knew very little of the team of Warlocks that he had dispatched, claiming that they felt something stirring in Valyria. Truthfully, he had expected them to survive and so had only sent his most mediocre acolytes to avoid losing many of them.
He hadn’t known that they had partnered with a Red Priestess during their search, but it was something that he could see his Acolytes doing out of idiocy. Perhaps, it was a good thing that they had perished, as Pyat Pree would have punished them quite severely for their blunder, even if he wished that a few of them could tell him what they might have revealed to the Red Witch.
Speaking of the Red Priestess, she spoke up with a hoarse voice, as if she had been screaming for days, “In the depths of Valyria, a battle occurred. The Lord of Light granted us power and gave us a sign in the form of the Red Comet. The Great Other gathers. Death walks amongst the living, and we must stop it, or else disaster will follow, and the world will be swallowed by cold and darkness.”
Pyat Pree suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. Spare him the Red Priests and their dramatics. He had heard a dozen such proclamations before, each one more theatrical than the last. According to the archives in the Tower of the Undying, the Faith of R’hllor had declared that the so-called Great Other stirred dozens of times, often when they were either losing the people’s favour or in times of chaos, to gather more strength. They had even done it after the Doom, claiming that the disaster was due to the machinations of their Great Other. Yet, that didn’t change the fact that while most of Essos bled for a century, the Red Faith had grown much stronger in that time.
He was not fooled by Benerro’s play. Power was what mattered in the world, true power, and not faith in some uncertain god. He had studied under the Undying Ones and knew that gods were as fallible as they were limited. The so-called Lord of Light was less powerful than even Pyat Pree, a mere mortal, was when it came to affecting the world.
In a way, it was why the Undying Ones had a great advantage in this game of gods. They were ageless, undying, and immensely powerful, but they were not gods. They could affect the world, and despite needing to stay in the Tower of the Undying, they could send their heralds, their messengers, such as Pyat Pree.
He did not know what truly occurred in Valyria, but the Lord of Light and this Great Other likely had very little to do with it. However, he knew that his target had been involved in some way. He would need to speak to Kinvara regarding what she had seen and give him a glimpse as to what the Undying Ones had asked him to chase.
Many seemed to protest very vehemently against this supposed legendary battle, given the echoes of scoffs and objections spreading across the assembly. Some accused her of madness. Others questioned the very notion of a god’s death, calling it a metaphor, a hallucination, or a convenient excuse for the disaster.
Let them argue. Let them throw words and doubts. He would get what he wanted in time.
Pyat Pree grabbed his goblet, one filled with the Shade of the Evening and relished as he took a sip of the glorious liquid. Immediately, his mind was expanded, and he felt his connection to the Undying Ones grow. He could feel their will, even so far from Qarth, a testament of their growing power.
He listened and let Benerro stand up firmly, raising his hands. Once more, the fires in the chamber rose up, this time, with pillars that almost reached the ceiling. Finally, he addressed the rest of the assembly, “I did not invite you to squabble like children. I will have order, or you will leave.”
No one moved to leave the chamber, and then the flames settled back to normal, “I know that these statements are troubling and… implausible. However, I would not have called this assembly without proof.”
The man carefully placed a tall twisted black item made of Dragonglass. A glass candle, Pyat Pree realised with interest. He remembered reading in their records that they were used quite extensively by the Dragonlords when they managed the Valyrian Freehold, as they allowed the users to communicate across mountains, sea, and deserts. Alas, they stopped functioning after the Doom, which was one of the reasons why things fell into chaos so quickly after Valyria was gone.
Most had been broken, but a few remained and were sometimes purchased by enthusiastic collectors, who loved the idea of having a legacy of Valyria’s sorcery in their vaults. Pyat Pree hadn’t considered that when he thought of the Second Doom. With magic running free, it would be logical that the candles might work as well.
And if the High Priest of the Lord of Light showed it so casually, then it was obvious that there would be very few in circulation, since the Red Faith would have purchased most of them to gain an advantage.
Pyat Pree couldn’t help but admire the implied threat that Benerro made. Of course, it depended on whether or not he showed that he could use the candles. However, it would be proof that he would always watch them, that he could observe their every move, without doing anything. Thankfully, Qarth had its own protections from the days of the Freehold, but outside of the city, it posed a small problem.
Deciding to jump with it, he drank another sip of Shade of the Evening, and his masters granted him a small spark of knowledge, a way to use his illusions to hide from any form of detection. He would need to master it, but it shouldn’t be too difficult.
As if to prove his worries to be correct, Benerro hovered his hand over the candle, only for the entire hall to take a breath as a small white flame appeared, “Thanks to the combined efforts of many of our number, as well as Kinvara’s testimony, we were able to trace down the source of this devastation, and found the trail of what he left in its wake.”
As he spoke, the white flame of the candle grew, warping the very light around it, in a display of magic that Pyat Pree had never heard of, only for it to slowly morph into a moving image. The colours looked odd, unnatural, and mostly muted, but Pyat Pree could see the shapes appear in the flames. It was a fortress built on an island, collapsing back into the sea, with a loud and inhuman screech that almost shook the entire chamber.
Benerro watched the “As far as we know, this is where it all began, on Pyke, where their so-called Drowned God perished. After this, we traced it to this Valyria. And you know what occurred there.”
The flames shifted into the familiar sight of Fourteen Flames erupting and destroying everything around it once more. He could almost hear screams of terror in the distance, and even the familiar voice of Kinvara screaming herself hoarse, “And finally, the last occurrence, which was in the heart of the Sunset Kingdoms.”
The flames changed into another form, one that he didn’t recognise, of a gigantic fortress, one almost as large as a city, but with shadows lingering above. It was suddenly assaulted by some kind of distorted light, which reduced it completely into rubble.
Benerro left the display of the devastation show, and a few of Rhoynar mages were the first to break the silence, “It seems like two of the three incidents have occurred in the Sunset Kingdoms, yet I do not see any of their representatives.”
One of the Alchemists of Lys scoffed, “The barbarians do not believe in the power of magic, claiming rationality above all else. Before Aegon the Dragon came to their shores, they hunted down every source of magic they could find. And House Targaryen is too busy with their coming succession crisis to interfere in their affairs.”
“Two of their fortresses had been turned to rubble,” An Aeromancer from the back protested, “Surely they cannot ignore that.”
“They blamed them on natural disasters and some kind of divine interference,” the Alchemist answered, “We were quite surprised by their foolishness when we received reports from our wayward branch in the Sunset Kingdoms.”
Whatever reply had been overwhelmed as wind started to somehow appear in the close chamber. The white flames from the Glass Candle started to turn black and rose in the air, almost in the middle of the assembly.
Frost started to spread across the stone floor. Several mages immediately stood up, running away, especially after one of the Red Priests who had been guarding Benerro was immediately frozen solid when he touched the frost.
As for Benerro himself, he yelled as he created a large circle of fire, surrounding the growing black ones, hoping to contain them and stop them from spreading. He succeeded partially as the flames slowed down, but he was not able to withstand the freezing winds, which exploded outward and sent many mages flying back.
Somehow, the flames, which he mentally dubbed the Black Frost, started to distort the world around them, seemingly twisting it in ways that were completely impossible. And yet, Pyat Pree watched the pandemonium without being afraid; after all, he had stopped fearing fear for years, and yet he was uncertain as to what the best course of action would be.
And so, he decided to ask his masters by drinking a few drops of the newly spilt cup of Shade of the Evening. His mind expanded, and he felt the Undying One’s sudden interest in what was happening. He immediately knew what they wished of him, and immediately let himself be taken over by their will.
He couldn’t help but feel awed as the Undying Ones used his body to summon shadows from every corner of the chambers and surround the Black Frost to further contain it. This, alongside Benerro’s flames, finally countered the Black Frost enough to be able to push it back. He could almost feel the Red Priest’s gratitude for his help.
Alas, he did not have long to appreciate the Undying Ones’ work, as the moment when his magic reached the frost, Pyat Pree couldn’t help but feel an echo of his masters. He had some trouble understanding them completely, but he recognised a few emotions, namely hunger and anticipation. He hadn’t felt these emotions in some time. It reminded him of times before he had been Pyat Pree, before he had been broken at the hands of his masters, before he had left his useless old self behind.
Nevertheless, with the help of his masters and Benerro, they were able to push back the Black Frost, but they could not banish it.
He shared a frown with Benerro, who obviously was thinking of a way to stop this as well. Whatever he might have planned mattered very little when Kinvara stepped forward, pushing herself against the wind that became stronger as it approached the Black Frost.
She spoke, her voice somehow echoing above the wind, “O’ R’hllor, Light of the World, Fire of Salvation. Lend me your strength. Lend me your flame. Let your light banish the dark. For the night is dark and full of terror.”
The woman was all but screaming near the end, and somehow, she released a burst of fire towards the Black Frost and jumped to the side. Pyat Pree thought that she had missed due to her blindness, but his eyes widened as he realised that she had jumped directly towards the Glass Candle, which had fallen on the ground during the commotion.
The world felt as if it had stopped as she touched it, even the Black Frost remaining still. Of course, that was when Kinvara opened her mouth and let out a harrowing scream, and through his connection with the candle’s dangerous flames, visions started to appear in his eyes. He could feel his head aching from the strain and closed his eyes through pure instinct. Thankfully, he followed his masters' urgings and blindly drank more of the Shade of the Evening, which tightened their connection and allowed him to pass on the visions to them. They went so quickly, before they settled towards the image of a man. Pyat Pree looked at his form, a black-robed man with black hair, which obscured his features. Suddenly, the man’s face turned, and the vision muddied, with Pyat Pree barely remembering more than piercing green eyes looking back at him.
He did not have time to do it once more, as he heard Kinvara release a loud yell, and he was barely able to open his eyes to see the Glass Candle crumble into dust, taking the Black Frost with it.
The wind abated, and the entire hall held its breath. Kinvara, who had fallen down before the candle, spoke up, her voice even hoarser than it was before, “Death comes, and cold and Darkness come with it. Only Live, Light and Flames stand in its way.”
Whispers and shouts spread across the assembly, and Pyat Pree could almost hear the terror in their voices. He knew from the small grin on Benerro’s face that despite what happened, he had gotten what he had wanted, which didn’t bode well. He wouldn’t say that he knew the man well, only that he was far older than he looked, with mentions of him starting in the days of the Valyrian Freehold, and that his plans rarely were as simple as they appeared. No mere zealot would have been able to make the Red Faith the single most influential religion in Essos and even pose a threat to the old blood of Volantis in their own city.
Pyat Pree could see many ways that could benefit him. Dealing with this common threat, with the Red Faith and Benerro at its helm, would grant him a lot of influence over most emerging magical guilds in Essos, especially given the recent resurgence of mages. Then again, conquest was very likely just one facet of the old man’s plans. Perhaps some more time communing with the Undying Ones would help shed some light on his plans.
Alas, the servant of the Undying Ones couldn’t help but show a smirk of his own. After all, he had also achieved his goal for this assembly and couldn’t help but thank the wisdom of the Undying Ones for allowing him to come. The Red Priests’ future sight was their greatest strength, and Pyat Pree had been able to see through Kinvara’s own visions for a few seconds.
He could almost feel the excitement of the Undying Ones, that they would finally catch up to their fleeing prey, that they would finally master Death itself. He knew exactly where it would be. After all, his masters were as old as they were powerful. They had recognised a ruin in Kinvara’s visions, a palace half-destroyed… with steps leading into water and weeping statues crumbling beneath moss.
He felt their urgings in his mind and smiled. It seemed that his quest would finally end in Chroyane. Despite it all, he couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the memory of these green eyes. He attributed it to the frost and decided to focus more on the coming campaign to the cursed city, as the Undying Ones bid him.
AN: This is a bit of an interlude chapter. I’ve been meaning to go back to Harry in this chapter, but I just got this idea, and I thought it would be pretty cool to write, and it starts here. Anyway, I promise that we’ll get back to Harry in the next chapter. Other than setting a few things up, I also used this to show how magical factions have been growing after the Second Doom, as well as put hints on how Harry is affecting the magical landscape in Essos. I hope it came out like I wanted it to, but if not, I don’t mind rewriting this chapter depending on your feedback. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Marius Petrauskas
nice
HP-DG-AP-PN-RG-NR
I can't wait for Harry to destroy them all lol
Mariusz Zonk
"religious experience" If you mean uniting with their gods after death, then I agree.
Jafarr710
Imagine if merlin in Harry's dimention was a dimension hopper like Harry is. So therefore Harry is the Merlin of westeros
Monzter E
Well, there are may ways to commit suicide, but this has got to be the most damning. I kind of wonder why the high beings/gods on this side of human stupidity not fully warn they're peons. Hope harry's input in this clusterfuck will give these people a religious experience never seen before, and hopefully It'll be interesting and funny.
