Chapter 4: The City of Bones

The Desert is unforgiving.

The days are unbearably hot, the nights are cold enough to warrant extra layers of clothing and the constant winds erode away at a person's vitality.

There are no trees in the Red Waste, no roads, no cities and no settlements. Even finding a wild animal would be difficult. 

It was impossible to travel during the day, if the heat alone was not enough, the swift winds would dry your skin so quickly that it would start to crack and flake before the day was done.

The starlight showed them a path to the unknown and the distant moon lit up the desert, allowing them to journey unhindered and sightful of their current miserable situation.

So the group traveled at night, the cold was much more bearable but the speed was still as slow as the turtle's pace. There weren't enough horses so many had to walk on foot. Many horses having died and in one last act of loyalty, having become sustenance for their masters.

Jafaar was lucky in this regard, his horse had thinned and was slow but it was still strong enough to bear his luggage and his own weight. Jafaar would get off the horse when he felt it tire, he didn't wish for his companion to die anytime soon.

*Kwaa*

A small whiny sound came from somewhere behind him, he turned back and saw a cream and gold creature, as big as a well fed cat, seated atop a pale headed young girl's shoulders as she petted it with gentleness, her gaze loving, like a mother's.

Contrary to his expectations, the dragons had not been hidden from him. In fact their mother showed a proud expression when Jaafar had first seen them, which was the opposite of his shock and awe.

Jorah Mormont, the old knight had objected to this, if his silent muttering to the girl were anything to go by. But he guessed that Daenerys thought otherwise, afterall, who was he going to tell in this godforsaken place? He couldn't steal them either, no one even had the strength to run much less with out of control and whining dragons. So she simply let it be, basking the awed sights of another person.

However, right now, her worries were elsewhere. A blonde haired woman, thin as a stick and swaying powerlessly atop her horse, staring down at her horses' mane with listless eyes.

Daenerys watched the handmaiden that had taught her the art of pleasure on the verge of collapse and her heart ached. Doreah had been a friend to her but now her end trudged closer and closer as they journeyed deeper into this waste, until finally…

*Thud*

As if someone had dropped a small sack of onions, the sick girl fell from her horse and onto the barren earth below.

"Doreah!" Daenerys quickly stopped her mount and rushed to the fallen girl's side, taking her head in her arms.The girl's hands and lips mirrored the earth beneath her; cracked, dry and red from blood.

The Khalasaar stopped as they gathered around the dying girl, including Jafaar.

The group lamented the inevitable fate of another one of them as their Khalasaar thinned even more.

Jafaar knelt down next to the dying girl and took her pulse.

"What are you doing?" Daenerys looked up from the dying girl and asked him.

"She is ill, I might be able to help." Jafaar's words caused a small stir but no hope, it was a rare luxury in this place.

"We have no medicine for her, even a great healer cannot help her without the proper herbs." lamented Jorah, shaking his head at the red head's words.

"I don't need herbs to heal." Jafaar closed his eyes for a second before opening them. A gentle green light rose from his hand and slowly flowed into the laying girl.

The group around them retreated a step back in shock, "Sorcery!" someone exclaimed and others gasped as their thoughts were given form.

*Cough Cough*

A dry cough escaped the dying girl and as the paleness of her face slightly lifted, she slowly started to open her eyes and looked at Daenerys, "Khaleesi?" she muttered in a whisper.

"Doreah!" Daenerys exclaimed in shock as the girl in her arms seemed to gain strength.

"Give her something soft to eat. I have cured her of the illness but she is still at death's door until she regains her strength." Jafaar stood up and instructed them before walking towards his horse, the crowd parting to give way, whether in fear or reverence was anyone's guess.

Jafaar had just spent the measly three points he had gained these past few days on the purchase of the spell "Cure Illness". He sighed, he had initially wanted to use it to finally buy the Water Elemental Magic but alas, he had decided otherwise.

He looked back towards the dothraki and saw them swifty turn heads, away from him. It was an expected reaction from the people of this world where the most common form of magic is blood sorcery.

Jafaar saw Jorah walk towards him, the knight had pulled his horse with him, Jafaar could see the hilt of the sword as the man walked next to him and spoke, "You are a meagi." The rest of the group also drew closer to listen.

Jafaar scoffed, "I would very much appreciate it if you didn't group me together with those foul blood sorcerers. I am a Magus, not some trickster."

"Forgive me but… what is the difference?" Jorah asked.

"For one, I don't borrow magic from false gods or vile rituals of blood sacrifice. My magic is my own." Jafaar explained, his demeanour aweing many of the wild men and women around them.

"Magic always extracts a price. Life pays for life." Jorah recited the worlds of the last magic user the group had encountered in a grim tone as he observed the young girl that had just been brought back from death's door.

"Ture words, Ser Knight. Magic does have a price. Let me answer your questions with my own. What price does a dragon extract for its fire?" Jafaar inquired with a knowing smile as the knight and the rest fell silent.

Dragons were perhaps the most powerful creatures in this world and people knew them to be the greatest weapons of conquest, as they say, 'If you want to conquer the world, you best have dragons.' but such power must surely have a cost, right?

"Dragons are fire made flesh. I am magic made flesh. I pay the same cost as they do." Jafaar pointed towards the dragons in the wooden cage as the creatures looked at him curiously. "In a sense, we are kin."

The journey continued after a brief pause and the group continued onwards in silence, casting wary and cautious gazes at Jafaar yet amongst them, he could sense something else, rising as slowly as the morning sun.

[Influence Points: 0]

[Influence Points: 1]

[Influence Points: 2]

His points were increasing again and faster then he had ever seen them increase. 'I guess the little show had worked better than I thought.'

Dawn had broken and the group had decided to set up camp for the day when the scouts returned, bloodriders that Dany had sent ahead. They brought news of a city, a ruin where they could take refuge.

Dany immediately decided to keep moving in said direction and they reached the city while the night cold still lingered.

It was a city of white stone. The large white walls that surrounded the city had crumbled at some places and the gates were completely broken down. As they cautiously ventured inside, they saw white houses and narrow roads, stretching ever inwards like a maze.

Soon they reached a plaza, they could see the remnants of what was once a palace, the stiff and tasteless devil grass growing from the gaps between the paved stones. They decided to make this place their camp as they slowly searched the ruins for sustenance.

"Do you know what place this might be? Ser Jorah." Dany asked to which the knight shook his head. "No, my queen. I have never traveled this far east."

"It was most likely once a Qaarthi city. Ruined and pillaged by the Dothraki during the 'Bleeding Years'." Jafaar spoke as he looked around the pale, windswept buildings that encircled them.

"How do you know this?" Dany asked, her tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

"I am a merchant's son. I was taught many things and I learned many more after spending a small fortune on books and time of learned men." Jafaar informed them.

Soon the dothraki started to return, bearing fruits and news of green gardens and cold fresh water. They all hastened towards those places, filling both their bellies and hands with grapes and figs, jumping over the broken skulls and bones that lay there, unburied and abandoned.

They spent the night, their bellies full and their smiles wide. When the next day came, Dany sent her bloodriders to ride ahead and bring news of any river, lake, city or sea they could find.

During this time, A few of the wandering children and adults had run into red scorpions with poisonous stingers, Jafaar had healed their dying victims and earned the praise of the dothraki. Many of the Dothraki came to Jafaar after that, especially the old and the sick, seeking his magic for the price of overripe peaches and dried figs.

They begged him to heal them, the mothers carrying their young in their arms and the old limping towards him, praying for a miracle.

Jafaar didn't turn them and instead healed them the best he could and by the time the sun set had earned 6 more points.

Even though they were still wary of him, their eyes now also held a look of reverence and awe, something that he now shared with the mother of dragons, as they muttered "Lord Magus" whenever he walked past them.

A few days had passed since then when Jhogo, one of the bloodriders, returned with food, wine and news of welcome from the great city of Qarth.