Fourteen Flames

On a ship, the wind blows from the windward side. If it were another day, I would be glad to receive the gift from the gods, but such force upon our sail has propelled us on the wrong side of the shore. It was no easy feat. I was constantly being thrown, dropped, pulled, and swayed by the currents. Once I was able to get my bearings. I slowly took notice of one of the younger men. 

"Drop the anchor," one of the crew members shouted.

What is he doing? I thought to myself. The boy was walking in the wrong direction. 

"Stop that at once you fool". The man from before tried to intervene. I could only run grasping at straws for I was the closest. I pushed the boy aside, as he realized his mistake. We combined our efforts to lift the anchor before it touched the seabed. There was no time for coddling, a powerful wave hit us causing us to slam into one of the rocks. It was loud, a heavy sound that carried it's blow to the hull. The two men that stowaway aboard their ship still linger there. He hoped they were alright. 

The boy then turned from the opposite side of my shoulder and dropped the kedge anchor. It is a spare anchor as opposed to the anchor on the bow, which is where I stood now. The boy returned to my side, giving me his thanks. I could see the lingering doubt in his face. There was no time for me to soothe the poor boy.

They were all breathing heavy, waiting in silence, as the winged creatures past us ahead. They held onto the ropes, beams, or anything that could hold their frame. I held the boy close as the ship swayed yet again. Our nerves only worsened each time the ship rocked too closely to the rocks. They could hear the far-off screeching; it was only then we placed ourselves in an upright position.

It was still dark, so they had the cover of night to protect them. The man from before came upon the boy with such fright. "Are you feeble minded?" "You could have gotten us all killed."

"Any louder and you might." I stepped in between them. "The fault was my own."

Their captain was sleeping in the lower cabins at the bow of the ship near the forepeak, slung in the hammocks they had made between the beams on the lower deck. Their sleeping arrangements were often determined by rank. And he outweighed him, so he would be in more strife with the captain than the boy or the man who stood before him. "You were on watch duty to ensure this wouldn't happen," as I recall. "Aye".

"So, what happened?" He asked in a haze of anger.

"I went to take a piss. If I were to do it on the side of the starboard the sea would have long taken me before the wyverns had their fill in time for sunup." He took my answer. "I hope you can say the same when the captain wakes, surely you will understand how you lacked any wit. Someone should have been notified of your absence."

"And maybe you shouldn't have asked a boy who only knows of the tales of his mother's wagers to do a sailor's service. Our only purpose here is to make sure they survive." I reminded him. He knew of who I spoke. "You wanted to lounge at the boy. I take offense to that."

The fourteen flames seemed to agree as the intense heat emitted a visible light, bright enough to overshadow the darkness. As they looked to the sky, they took a breather in order to feel its presence. Only to be reminded of the creature that roam over the corpses of their families. Its beauty slowly overshadowed. Such a commotion did wake the captain as the young squire followed behind him.

"I only have three questions". Vaemond told the men. "Have we arrived?" They nodded. "Which side of the isle are we currently?" 

"A little past the ridge, over the hilltop that we used to use to see past the horizon." 

 Vaemond stood behind the frame door of the lower deck. He looked disheveled. Aerion stood by him as they watch the sunrise settle over the wooden steel that hung the sail. Vaemond dragged Aerion closer to his side so that he could look upon the land. Aerion was indeed bewildered by the wonder of Valyria. It brought a smile to the quarreling men as they took pride in their home. He finally understood why his mother cherish these memories. He could finally see her imparted wisdom. He was home. At that particular moment the heat from the sun blinded him, as his tears shed quickly.

Vaemond faced his crew, "I will not hear of this dispute. It is beneath us. Let us end this squabble, for our path has become more dire than we have originally thought." The two men did not seem to find that adequate. A punishment must be brought forth, but they had no time for petty grievances. "Remove the anchor. Pull the sail sheets tightly, closer to the centerline. We must fight against the wind and the sea. We must reach the shore before they spot us. And someone go check on the men below."

Alys once told him that Vhaera believed the gods had cursed them. He does not see it that way, but his faith has always been fickle. He wanted nothing more than to have her back in good strength. The medicine they gained in slavers bay did only so little. Many more are at the cusp of deaths door itself. A foul jest they have played, denying the gods their souls.

Alys said, "Those that have died will come in good use and the ones that still linger will be their triumph." Vaemond feels as though the prophet's dream is blinding his vision to the real world. Vhaera had the right of it, in wanting to separate his preaching from her mind. What he sees they cannot interpret and what they do he cannot fathom. Those were the days when they set sailed. But the man had the right of it, for he never dared whispered his thoughts to outsiders. A little knowledge is a dangerous thing. (G.R.R.M quote from a blog post) And Alys knew of this when they traveled. He read their scripture, sanctifying himself in the words, but once he returned aboard the vessel it was as though he was closer to the Gods. They listened, but only a few took on the deeper meanings of his teachings. 

Though it is good to be in their place of birth, their land feels foreign to his ears and tongue. When the Ghiscari once ruled over them, they could only quake at their feet. Now he wondered, what else exactly did they have to fear in this mortal life. 

Their dreams aimed true, for the loud screeching sound coming from the sky did feel like the earth shaked as the night turned to day. The red star that seemed to hurdle in the east has shone brighter in the coming days. Vaemond worried that perhaps they would lose more to the fever. If Vhaera could only wake she may be able to wish her brother farewell. Alys already claimed he would not survive for much longer. He felt that this would be the last line crossed, and she would soon follow in her brothers' footsteps. Vaemond did not know what Alys's desire would be in order to keep her on this plain.

Vaemond turned to Aerion. "The day we fled to the mountains," he pointed. "You and your mother were taken. Our fields were burned as different paths were laid before us. Vhaera was a child then. We only came to truly know each other in those times, and she became a dear friend to me. All that I have is this ship and my crew."

Aerion smiled lightly at the reference of the dragon's tooth. It is the name of this vessel. 

"If Vhaera or Alys vision does not come to pass, I fear we will all die if we are to tread back to the sea, it would be most dangerous. We have no allies in the sea. In the past our cries were overlooked when we hungered, starved, died out, among the flames of the Ghiscari. Even the moon showed us no pity. If we are to go back to those dark days, it will be in chains tending to the fields that Ghis has already plundered into the abyss."

Aerion could almost picture it in the scope of his mind. The taste of their wine, sweat, and dredged laughter made his skin crawl. He would forever be the jester of their amusement. 

"You see the horizon atop the hill it was once covered in brimstone, blood, ash and smoke before it's grasses were ever the greener." Vaemond spoke. "When it would rain it made a beautiful waterfall, below if you were to go near the mountains you would find caves that took you deep underground where the firewyrms nested. Daemond's pet was only a hatchling. Here they are the size of this cliff."

"Tell me is it true that this war we are destined to claim will only last for five days?" He inquired curiously. 

"I do not think it will end so soon, but I do know that their land will be destroyed from the seas. Their King looked upon us as lowly as a predator to its prey. He feared something and it makes me afraid. They like to wear bright colors of yellow, brown, and gold. Gold is an ugly color. When they placed us in the fields, my mother would have to cover my hair. They found it unsightly." His face turned into an ugly twisted thing. "They would make us wash with their waters. Some masters had diseases so foul on their backs and loins you had to be careful not to drape yourself in their cloth. Valeanna was made into a bed slave, so you can only imagine what she had to suffer. I promise you. I will not choke again in their sights. We shall do what we must to ensure our survival. I intend to see to it that our dream comes true." Aerion squeezes the pummel of his sword as he watched the last of the men come ashore. 

"Has your sword been tempered?" "There are many rocks and whetstones upon this beach find one. I fear you will not have time for it later on." 

"Death befalls the beseech and the eye of the besir, without it's wisdom we may condemn the mighty... We mustn't bite the hand that feeds us." Alys prayed a silent prayer; he was consumed by the roar of the storm around them. He chose not to help the men carry the injured. He toiled as they shirk their duties upon him. Now they had to witness the sorrow of those that could have been saved if only they had lended him a hand. 

"Be careful with that one."

"Why is she the object of your judgement and no one else?" One of the crew asked as he watched another carry his dead relative inside the cave. (@insertpersonality (ao3 quote) 

"I've had the privilege of listening to your constant bickering. Day in and day out. I labored for many a night to make sure our savior delivers us from this torment. All that you have suffered will be nothing in contrast to what she must do for our people. I suggest you watch your tongue and strike your anger at another."

The man that held Vhaera's sick bed could only bite his lip in frustration, for he knew Alys was right. They were bitter, hatred seeped from their tongues as quickly as the waters calmed their souls. They wanted no part in this dream, Alys spoke of. It has cost them far more than they bargained. At the end of the world, they were able to set their sights upon things far greater than this. Why should they be joyous of a place that has left them hungry, bruised, and battered. 

He remembered, what it was like to pray for blessings only to receive a beating from his father because the fields were left untended. The blisters on his hand still linger as the sound of his father's scream echo in his mind. The scars he received from the sky as they fled through the night no longer itched. He knew if all fails the sea is where he wishes to be buried. He would be no one's cousin, no one's enemy, no one's sworn sword... in sum, no one." (G.R.R.M quote (Jamie after he got his hand cut off) 

He could only hope to find solace with the forgotten gods. The man watched as the prophet, the squire, the lord and the captain commune with one another in hush tones. In the corner of his eye, he watched the two stowaways discuss a plan of escape. No one paid any attention to him. Only the others followed Alys orders in placing the bodies away from the dead. He counted of the forty-families including his own, out of each, six or eight lay dead. Mother Teresa and her sister Claire lay beside Valeanna and her mother. 

It seems the cuts have gotten deeper. (ao3 quote) He tried to ease the pain in his palms. Against his better judgement, he told the stowaways that it was best to stay put. "This land is as treacherous as the sea itself. We fed you during those storms and we expect you to send word to your king. Desert us now and your heads won't be the only thing rolling in this wasteland." I warned them, whether they take heed, of it was no longer his concern. His gaze returned to the pair. Vaemond looked as angry as he felt. the sound of a child's cough made his chest tighten. Oh, how could he have forgotten the children. He counted only the adults. Half of them were wiped out due to fever. He watched as the men stripped the dead of their possessions. There was still dead flesh that hung from the chain mail. The sound of leather clinking together against the swords made him feel uneasy. He wanted no part of this, but they're ship has been damaged from the rocks and the only way out now rests upon the shoulder of a sickly little girl. 

A girl they no very little about. Four years at sea has harden them. Whatever plan she had found in Asshai lay buried in her mind. He no longer dreams, those that follow him have received the same blessing. All that was brought before them was death. And it sickens him that even now it sticks to them like omens. 

If he were to ask those who follow Alys their answers would differ. They're meaning changes upon whosever tongue reveals it's wisdom. (ao3 quote) He had to be warried of such wisdom. There tone sets the precedent that confuses the mind. Men, trifle with the gods all the time. It is those who rise above them, that fall the hardest at their feet. Alys sees us closer to the Gods than men. They're hair may hold no candle to the power of Ghis, but it is the eyes that strike contrast of that to normal men. When he was a common man, he was seen as no better than a street rat. Even so it garnered no attention from those that wanted his flesh. Now a target laid heavy upon all their backs. A burden I was given without my knowledge. (a03 quote) 

Vaemond and his men leave the cave. Once they were out of earshot Vaemond sharply questioned Alys. "What you are suggesting is madness."

"We have very little provisions. Whatever is left, I suggest we give it to Valeanna. She is the one that has more will power to do what is needed."

"How can she change to fit the idea of Daemond." 

"Glamour magic," was the prophet's only answer. 

"Vhaera will only wake if she is assured, he lives. We need answers and whether any of you like it or not it must be done." 

"You like to play riddles and games with our lives, Alys, if any harm comes to my sister, you will be facing many who seek your head already." Aerion spoke begrudgingly. Alys bowed his head in kind. 

Ardrian said nothing. For the most part he and his men have been spectators. It took some time for them to find purpose aboard the dragon tooth. As they passed and grew so did, they're features. Silver threads marked their dark hair. Their eyes remained the same, the only reminder of their home in the west. My seat in claw isle is in chaos. I left all those years ago to set out for a name for myself seeking glory in the old lords at Drift-mark. A name beyond grievous titles and kingships. It was always my desire to venture where no man could follow. I never wanted my father's haughty pledges of fealty, but to hear my name from those that envy my power. For they will be cautious with my name. They will be easy to tame and that is when a man must strike to obtain his victory. 

"How will this be conducted," the lord asked. They turned to look at him. "It must be done in the dark, she will be the flesh underneath it's yoke. Easier to deceive that way."

"I will leave you three to commence this plan. My men need me." Vaemond said clearly still bothered by the idea as he tried to get away. His men looked upon him in grief. His silence lingered encompassing the surrounding space. "We have a job to do. Those who are still able may follow. We must trek to the side of the cliffs beyond the mountain pass. There lies the border between Sarnor and Ghis, he sighed. We have to ensure the survival of the stowaways."

The boy, the man, and the squabbler's, decided to join on this mission. "We leave at dusk. I suggest you find rest." Those that chose to stay behind would find the work strenuous. Vaemond could not find the words. Rest did not come easy for him that day.

Evenfall had fallen by the time they departed from camp. It promised to be a gloomy night; moonless, starless, with a chill wet wind blowing from the west. A fine black night thought the man. The fires burned all around them, small orange stars strewn across hill and field. (G.R.R.M quote) 

He was slowly reminded of a saying told to him by his parents. 

When a father is given a daughter in some cultures she is seen as a blessing. Trees are planted in her honor. In others they are considered ill omens bred to be pillagers who seek the power that should be given to man. 'A women's place'. This tongue is whispered to many. Men are constantly reminded of it. Just as the women are sicken with grief so is a man when he is constantly being held in regard to their fathers over their mothers, sister, and cousins. A father is the first man in his daughter's life. He is the one that must show, how a man is supposed to treat a lady. Some spoil they're little ladies; others make them beg, but once they leave, they're fathers house, does the mayhem, ensue on all sides. My father unfortunately cannot pass down this wisdom just as the many others who have lost someone in their efforts to gain power.

A man can own a woman, or a man can own a knife, but no man can own both. Every little girl learns that from her mother. Just as the men learn from their fathers. Men can't own the land no more'n they can own the sea or the sky. (G.R.R.M quote (Ygritte is speaking to Jon) So many men wonder what is left to conquer while the daughters gravitate toward the blade left behind.

Vhaera was neither spoiled nor beaten, but the man did not know this.

Valeanna was awoken when the world seemed so little. It was so dark she couldn't even make out the shadow of her own hand. Her body was tired and shrunken, even though she stayed still, it felt as though she was still on a ship, rocking to the unsteady rhythms of the waves. Aerion consoled her. They were home, he warned her. She could not find the strength, for what he asked of her felt impossible while in this condition. When her eyes closed, he would move her again. Throughout the day he filled her lips with odd things. 

"Sister, you must, for our mother's sake and yours." She knew nought where she found the strength, but something took hold of her. From the gallows did she draw breath. Her skill no longer divine. There was a hollow feeling in her belly, and it hungered. (ao3 quote) The twisted snapping of a bone frightened the children. "I am made of you," she told him. I am made of your fire, I am made of your blood, whisper his name in my ear and it shall be done." (ao3 quote) Aerion drew closer losing his own breath as he called forth, Daemond Blackthorne.