All the lords and ladies of old Ghis who bore witness to that foremeable night have claimed some sort of enchantment has befallen them.
"They say it shined until dawn, while our priestesses were enamoured by their gold and silver that they polish. That the array shone just as bright as the harpy that stands above us ".
Outside the throne room stood the monstrous beast. "A harpy made of hammered bronze. Twenty feet tall, she reared. She had a woman's face, with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and pointed ivory teeth. She had such heavy breasts, but in the place of arms, she had wings of a bat, her legs were the legs of an eagle, and behind her, she wore a scorpion's curled and venomous tail. The symbol stood tall with a heavy chain dangling from her talons at each end, the harpy of old Ghis also strudded a thunderbolt in her claws, as she hanged above one of the great prymaids".
Their God was nothing compared to the gold tiles that shined in the presence of the sun, in the throne room. The emperor sat tall in his chair as he watched the red streaks adorn the sky; even now, he could feel the magic. "It may have just been a fluke of light for some, your highness, but it is said that one of the twin moons had burst into tears, hailing down fire and brimstones to those who reside in the Valyrian Peninsula. I'm afraid that our plans will no longer be able to come to fruition".
"These accounts were given to me just a few moments ago", he informed the emperor.
"You are supposed to be my eyes and ears, or am I mistaken, Vigar?" Before the man could speak, the emperor spoke again. "So, where were you?" when these events occured and why was i not woken up for this "great spectacle". Or is it not as alluring as the merchants who carry the slaves upon their backs, must you have the need for the sight of their blood at the ready, with the king's name in order to bear witness to the treachery and lies before you? "How am I to believe these accounts if you yourself have not seen it?"
"These are all valid questions, your highness, but I fear the question you should be asking is if the old gods will also bring forth punishment unto us for harboring the Valyrian slaves who have now been put to work in the fields. Our grains are not something to be trifled with. I suggest we send reinforcements near the border to make sure there are no survivors. Due to their unique appearance, I am afraid that I have dealt a deadly blow to the only person who could have brought forth some insight on this matter". Vigar waited for a response as he deflected the emperor's questions, for he feared the answer would not be pleasing.
"Those were the eyes of the bezier, only those who have fled in the dead of night could detest these theories of which you spoke of", the emperor finally said, not knowing that it was not the gods speaking but the cries of the children in the forest. Who failed in their attempt to kill the sheepherders, only forty of the families survived out of a hundred.
They fled to the fourteen flames as the earth shook and the lava spewed from beneath their feet as the magnificent fire wyrms rose up to make an appearance. They danced above ground as they lit a path for the disheveled families who, not too long ago, received a vision of their homes being destroyed. They witnessed the destruction of their land as the stones burned their fields, leaving behind holes and tiny bits of pieces of molten rock that over shadowed the cries for help. There was no time to spare a second glance as more lava spewed and their clothes burned to the point that mothers had to use their own children to cover their nakedness, and the young ladies in the village cowered behind their husbands.
But it was the dead of night, not much could be seen except for the horror. "For fear cuts deeper than the swords. Opening your eyes is all that is needed. The heart lies and the head plays tricks with us, but the eyes sees true. Look with your eyes. Hear with your ears. Taste with your mouth. Smell with your nose. Feel with your skin. Then comes the thinking, afterward, and in that way knowing the truth". And you too will be able to smell the smoke that came out of the fire, see the ocean at the top of the hill covered in blood, or hear the sounds of thunder in the forms of molten rock ring out in the land.
No one would be able to describe the beauty of the fire wyrms that loved to eat the fire underneath, nor would anyone outside the realm be able to catch the big creatures without burning, unlike them. Just like the creatures of the sea, they could jump through the lava as though it were waves that could easily be swum through. This was the only site that the villagers dared to look at, for it was the first sighting they had of them in years.
They reached an area untouched by lava, where some of their animals found refuge. The fire wyrms soon after left as daybreak reached, deciding it best to hide away somewhere underground. There, they hide away from the rest of the world, covered by bushes and trees, far away from their village, as new land started to form before their very eyes.
"They say pain is a gift from the gods, your highness," Vigar told him."It means the bone is knitting, the flesh healing itself. We should all be thankful for the grace of the gods".
"The emperor could never trust what a man told him from his knees". It is these intrusive thoughts that have kept him alive all these years as the great ruler of Ghis. "Calmorian Grazdan The Great, your highness," someone shouted as the door to the throne room opened. Thirty valyrian slaves entered the room, the rattling of the metal chains hitting each other, made the king's teeth edge together, as their muddy, soaked, ridden skin that looked like rotting dead flesh, stained the very tiles that smelled of lavender and rose petals.
As though the hair on his skin stood up as if his body was possessed by an unknown force, which made him want to shoo away from the scene that was being brought before him, but his eyes were transfixed on them as his body could not move because of this unknown force. He was in a trance, as if frozen in time. Remembering clearly, as in the day, what they once looked like. At the corner of his eyes, he saw the harpy watching and taunting him as though to ask if he would dare try to defy his fair lady.
"I humbly ask for your forgiveness; it is not my intention to disturb your council, but a problem has arisen. Our newly recruited claim to have witnessed a great tragedy that will soon befall our great nation. "I ask that you let them speak of what they saw?", he told the emperor.
Grazdan could only nod as one of the Valyrians spoke in broken English, for they barely knew the common tongue. "We have seen it all... a war that will bring forth fire upon your fields. Salt from the ocean will be carried upon the very backs of the slaves you have imprisoned. He could not say any more before he started speaking High Valyrian, causing the slave master to strike the slave upon his back, as fresh blood began to trickle down his back, onto the polished floor. The other slaves cowered in fear as they continued where he left off.
"He said that the war will last for five days as the victor will gain new lands and rebuild a nation far greater than yours." The child spoke with such conviction in his eyes that his mother held him closer to her chest so that his face could not be seen. She was afraid of them, the men with whips, as the child grew up with them, not even aware of their cruelty, as that was all he had seen. He was born the day of his capture, unable to visualize the land where his mother once resided. Nor imagine the great festivals that they had or the fourteen flames that are supposed to have shined brightly every morning and evening. They were only stories to him, but in his mother's eyes, they were her freedom of the days before.
The king said no more, for he could only see the slaves as they were on the day they were brought forth before him. They were covered in rags that looked like bags that held sacks of potatoes.
They smelled of manure, something a cow would shit in the fields in order to grow plants. It was so strong that he had to stand five feet away from them. Beneath their grotesque choice of clothing, he was infatuated by their silver hair, which was nothing compared to his dark hair. Or their lilac eyes that couldn't even compare to the flowers in the palace.
Their skin looked as pale as a baby's bottom, even if their hands were as hard as a rock due to work in the fields. He decided to put them to work on his own that day. He was not jealous of their beauty, for they were beneath him. He knew the cold truth that the skin upon their backs would not protect them from the heat. Or so he thought as he looked at his chocolate brown skin that complemented his eyes.
He could still see their pale skin even underneath all the filth. Their clothes on their backs hid the scars that seemed to heal in the wrong way; infection would likely kill them like the rest. It seemed they were not well-suited to this climate, or better yet, they craved the fourteen flames.
"Have them executed the king said as he began to feel even more haunted by the harpy, not even aware of his choice of words, as Vigar plagued his mind".