The War for Lys
The storm had broken over Essos.
Daenerys had shattered Volantis, burned Lys, and brought Myr and Pentos to their knees. But her war was not yet over.
As she stood atop the bloodstained walls of Pentos, a messenger from Lys arrived, breathless and terrified.
"Your Grace—the Tyroshi fleet has landed. They march on Lys as we speak."
The room fell silent.
Daenerys felt her blood ignite with fury.
Tyrosh had made their move.
They thought her too far away, too exhausted from conquest to stop them. They thought they could undo everything she had built.
They were wrong.
---
The Race to War
The war council gathered immediately. The banners of Pentos still dripped with fresh blood, but Daenerys had no time to celebrate her victory.
Tyrion drained his goblet, then slammed it onto the table. "Tyrosh is desperate. They know they are losing. That makes them dangerous."
Ser Barristan nodded. "A cornered enemy fights hardest."
Varys spoke next, his voice calm but urgent. "If they retake Lys, the war drags on. Other cities may rise against us. You must stop them before they gain a foothold."
Daenerys looked at Grey Worm. "How quickly can we move?"
The Unsullied commander didn't hesitate. "The fleet is ready. If we sail at dawn, we reach Lys in a week."
Daenerys gritted her teeth.
One week.
Too long.
She turned to Drogon, his massive shadow cast across the war table.
"I won't wait a week. I ride ahead. I will burn them before they can set foot in my city."
---
Fire on the Sea
Before dawn, Daenerys took to the sky.
With Drogon beneath her and Rhaegal and Viserion flanking her, she soared over the Summer Sea, leaving her army to follow by ship.
The wind tore at her hair. Below, waves crashed against the hulls of the Tyroshi war fleet, their blue and green sails glowing under the moonlight.
She could see their soldiers lined up on deck, unaware of the death descending upon them.
Daenerys raised her hand.
"Dracarys."
Drogon roared, and fire engulfed the nearest warship.
Screams filled the night as men burned alive, the flames reflecting off the black water.
Rhaegal and Viserion followed, their breath turning wood, steel, and flesh into ash.
Tyrosh had expected a battle at Lys.
Instead, they were slaughtered at sea.
By dawn, half their fleet was nothing but floating wreckage.
The rest turned back, fleeing like cowards.
But Daenerys was not finished.
She flew after them.
---
The Burning of Tyrosh
The Tyroshi fleet fled home, believing they could regroup behind their walls.
Daenerys did not give them the chance.
As the sun rose, dragons cast shadows over Tyrosh's white towers and blue rooftops.
The city bells tolled in alarm. Soldiers rushed to the walls, their crossbows aimed at the sky.
Daenerys hovered above them, looking down at the last stronghold of the old world.
They had sent armies to crush her. They had tried to steal Lys from her. They had enslaved thousands.
She would not spare them.
"Dracarys."
Flames erupted from Drogon's mouth, consuming the eastern gate.
The city burned before the battle even began.
Hours later, when Daenerys' fleet arrived, Tyrosh was already lost.
The Unsullied marched through streets littered with the dead, their armor blackened with soot. The remaining defenders threw down their weapons, surrendering before a single sword was drawn.
By nightfall, the final city of the Slaver's Alliance belonged to the Mother of Dragons.
---
The End of the Old World
With Tyrosh defeated, the war was over.
Slavery, the ancient disease of Essos, had been broken.
Tyrion sat beside Daenerys in the conquered palace, pouring himself another goblet of wine. He exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "We did it."
Daenerys barely heard him.
She stood on the palace balcony, staring out at the ruined city. The fires still smoldered.
Victory felt hollow.
Tens of thousands were dead. Cities lay in ruin. The freedmen had won their freedom, but at what cost?
Varys, sensing her unease, spoke softly. "You have freed a continent, Your Grace. The world will never be the same."
Daenerys nodded, but her heart was heavy.
She had won.
But what came next?
---
The New Dawn
The days that followed were spent rebuilding.
In Volantis, Lys, Myr, Pentos, and Tyrosh, Daenerys' banners flew from every palace and every wall.
Slavery was outlawed.
Trade routes were restored.
The shattered cities of Essos began to heal.
For the first time in a thousand years, the Free Cities were free in truth.
Daenerys had done the impossible.
She had conquered Essos.
She had broken the chains of the old world.
She had become more than just a queen.
She was a legend.
---
The Last War Looms
Yet even as she stood victorious, Daenerys knew her journey was not over.
Across the sea, Westeros still awaited.
The Seven Kingdoms still belonged to the Usurpers.
The Iron Throne was still out of her reach.
Tyrion swirled his wine, eyeing her carefully. "So, what now, Your Grace? Do we rest?"
Daenerys' violet eyes burned like dragonfire.
"No."
She turned to Drogon, who loomed behind her, his golden eyes reflecting the firelight.
"We prepare for the final war."
"We take the Iron Throne."
---
End of Chapter 36!