Chapter 35

The next day, we continued exploring the palace, and throughout our time there, we discovered a plethora of Rhoynar art marvels. Not only Garin and I were thrilled by these finds, but the Arphenians were equally captivated.

What surprised me even more was when, during our exploration, I heard:

"D... Su... T... Wait... for you... in Qohor."

This message kept repeating, and from what I could discern, it seemed I was being summoned to Qohor.

"Heh... But first, I need to head to Qohor," I thought.

After hearing this, I brought the others to the same spot and asked if they could hear anything. Unfortunately or fortunately, they heard nothing, while I still caught the indistinct words.

"Tun, do you hear anything?" I asked one day as I listened to what I had heard many times before.

"No, but I sense something strange near you."

"Hmm... Diya said something similar."

"It feels like what I sensed in the lands of the Mormonts... Not in every detail, but generally, it seems like there's a spirit or something spirit-related here?"

"I feel the same... But, let's drop it for now."

Realizing from my emotions that I was unsure about my thoughts, Tun decided not to probe further.

"Red!" Garin called out. "The others are ready."

"I'm coming," I replied, knowing that there was nothing I could do about whatever was beneath the city. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us to Qohor?"

Garin just nodded and said:

"I'm headed to Ar Noy, and then on to Qohor. I think I'm close to uncovering the Rhoynars' secrets," he said, a trace of regret in his voice, for this descendant of the Rhoynars had become quite a close friend to our group.

"Well, then I can only hope that we'll meet in Qohor."

I somehow believed we would meet, and something inside me affirmed this.

"I wonder what Ar Noy will be like?" asked Diya.

"I'm sure that city is beautiful in its own way..."

"And holds many secrets, like this one..." I thought to myself.

POV ? ???

Meanwhile, as Daeron and his group left, a creature lurking in the shadows said:

"The Wheel of Fate has begun to turn... I wonder where this wheel will take you..."

Just as it appeared, the creature also vanished into the darkness...

Two weeks later

It took us only two weeks to reach the river Koyne, and we just needed to cross it to get to Ar Noy. Like other Rhoynar cities, this one was abandoned during the war with the Valyrians. Currently, the ruins of Ar Noy are held by one of the Free Cities, Qohor. We were fortunate to see its people, who appeared quite formidable.

The territory between Ar Noy and the Sorrows is uncontrolled, and particularly at Dagger Lake, river pirates abound. Here, we were to part ways with Garin and continue our journey to Qohor.

"So here we say goodbye..." said Garin.

"Be careful."

"It's you who should be careful," he replied. "I've never been to Qohor, but from what I've heard... it's a very sinister place, dominated by dark magic."

"Ha... Don't worry, if it comes to that, we'll just leave the city."

To reach it, we only had to cross the forest of Qohor as well as the plains, fortunately, the forest was not too difficult to navigate thanks to our bird's-eye view.

"Tun, be careful... I have a bad feeling..."

"Alright."

Three weeks later

Qohor... one of the Free Cities of Essos, whose influence in the craftsman world is difficult to overstate. Like the other Free Cities, Qohor is renowned for its artisans: here, they weave fine tapestries that rival those of Myr in quality but are cheaper in price, a craft traditionally undertaken by women and children.

However, the city is more famously known for its local blacksmiths who rightfully pride themselves on their rare skill to reforge Valyrian steel—though not to forge it anew. The technology of reforging is kept in the strictest secrecy, and many who sought to learn it have lost their lives.

As I remember from the records of Maester Pol, who managed to live a few years in Qohor, he was publicly whipped three times and expelled from the city for his excessive curiosity about the blacksmiths' work with Valyrian steel. On his last occasion, he was accused of stealing a Valyrian blade, for which his hand was cut off, and he was definitively banished from the city. However, according to his words, the real reason for his punishment was that he witnessed human sacrifices (including the killing of infants), which the Qohorik blacksmiths performed in an attempt to produce steel equal in quality to Valyrian steel. Qohor also exports timber, and Qohorik pine is valued by shipbuilders as a building material.

Lately, the Braavos market has managed to capture thanks to an excellent resource supply chain from the North. Yet, I realized that if I wanted to influence the market in the future, I would need to transition from being just a resource supplier to a goods producer.

The reason Garin told us to be wary is that this city, more than the other Free Cities, is steeped in magic: in tales and songs, even in Westeros, it's called the City of Sorcerers, akin to distant Asshai. Rumors abound of sorcery, necromancy, and blood magic practiced here, but all in deep secrecy.

But I hesitated and did not want to visit this city for another reason... This reason was the patron deity of this city, called the Black Goat.

The Black Goat is somewhat a deity of death, at least that's what the Faceless Men believe, as there was a statue of this god in the House of Black and White. The Black Goat demands daily blood sacrifices, and on its altar, priests in hoods slaughter calves, bulls, or horses every day, and on holidays even people—criminals sentenced to death.

And I was uncertain how this stern entity would react to the arrival of three Arphenians and a quasi-chosen one in its city.

"But surely they won't kill me on sight, right? ..."

"Immaculate... What a terrible spectacle," Avus said upon seeing the guards of Qohor.

"I agree. They've been so mutilated that it turns my stomach at the cruelty of people," I added, deeply disturbed. These individuals seemed devoid of emotions, or rather, they had been driven to such despair that they could see no way to change their circumstances.

Aside from the Immaculates, there were other guards who checked those entering the city.

"Where are you from?" a guard asked, taken aback by the stature of my companions. "And what brings you here?"

"From Braavos, seeking potential collaboration with local artisans," I replied.

After a brief scolding look, we were quickly allowed to pass. Throughout this time, the Immaculates remained silent.

As we walked further, the vibrant life of the city unfolded before us, bustling here and there with lively discussions among traders, blacksmiths, and other craftsmen.

"Wow! Let's check out those stalls!" Diya exclaimed, spotting fabrics, with a silent nod from her mother.

"Daeron, I'll go with them," Avus resignedly said.

I just smiled, accepting his noble sacrifice:

"Thank you. I'll look for a place where we can stay the night."

Avus just nodded resignedly and followed his daughter and wife, while I went off to find lodging.

"Sense anything?"

"I can't say for sure... It feels like there's something, but also like there's not... It's hard to describe..."

I was mildly shocked by this, as Tun's senses are much sharper than mine, and if this place has such a fluctuating atmosphere, there must be something strange and possibly dangerous about this city.

"Alright, be careful, and if you find anything, act immediately."

"Crystal clear."

"Well, meanwhile, I'll try to find information about this city, but first, I need to find a place to stay."

With these thoughts, I walked into a gathering of people, meaning a tavern. It was called "The Stag's Horns," and overall, it looked quite presentable. Inside, it was relatively clean by local standards, and the staff was quite friendly.

"What can I get for you, sir?" a staff member asked.

"Wine, and perhaps some Qohorik meat."

"I wouldn't recommend that dish," intervened one of the patrons, a man who appeared to be about thirty. "It's quite spicy for non-locals."

"I'll try it anyway. Are you a local?"

To make this man more talkative, I ordered him a drink as well. After a few rounds, he became quite chatty. Thanks to him, I learned a lot about Qohor, from the forces that govern the city to where the best places to stay are.

"Hic Have you seen those hic eunuchs?" he grumbled, quite drunk. "Because of hic them I lost hic my job!"

He was referring to the Immaculates, whom the authorities of Qohor use instead of their own troops. About a hundred years ago, three thousand Immaculates bought in Astapor held Qohor against a Dothraki invasion while the city's own army perished in battle, and the mercenary squads fled. Recognizing their defeat, the Dothraki cut off their braids and threw them at the feet of the surviving Immaculates standing at the city gates. Since then, Qohor's army has been composed solely of these soldiers, and each of them has a human hair braid hanging from their spear.

Qohor also has a small city guard made up of locals who maintain order in the city, but the main burden of defending the city lies on the shoulders of the Immaculates: Qohorians are traders, not warriors.

The Dothraki still remember the old defeat and avoid fighting with Qohor. However, some khals extort money from the Qohorians: Khal Zekko, if I heard correctly, comes to Qohor every three years with his army, receives a bag of gold from the Qohorians, and leaves peacefully.

Soon after, the man passed out, and since he was well-known here, I was able to leave him at the tavern. I went on to seek other perspectives about the city and more reviews on places to sleep.

All this took about three to four hours, and within that time, I found a decent place to sleep that would suit everyone.

"Now I need to find the Arphenians."

Three days later

We've been in Qohor for three days now, and in that time, we've learned quite a bit about how this city operates.

The most important thing, in my opinion, that we've discovered pertains to what guards Qohor. The Black Goat, whose followers founded this city. Subsequently, this religion became dominant, although it was clear that other religions were not oppressed here, as followers of the Fire God were also present.

The Black Goat demands daily blood sacrifices. We were able to witness this process, where calves, bulls, and horses are usually sacrificed on the altar, and on holy days, criminals are sacrificed by hooded priests. In times of crisis and danger, the city's nobility would sacrifice their own children to appease the god who might protect the city.

Outside of Qohor, the Black Goat is considered a controversial deity—thus, the bearded priests of Norvos regard the Qohorik Black Goat as a demon, vile and treacherous. Meanwhile, the Faceless Men have given this god or demon a place in the House of Black and White.

But while we've been here, Tun has neither proven nor disproven the existence of this being. And the Arphenians and I have felt nothing, which is quite strange, given that a place where Valyrian blades are reforged must surely have magical emanations.

"Haah... I need a distraction since I can't change this situation right now," I thought as I sat in the tavern near our inn.

Again, I watched as another group of people loudly discussed the Immaculates. From what I gathered, these warrior slaves still couldn't fully integrate into the city's ecosystem.

"Indeed, they have quite a sad fate..."

The Immaculates are slave soldiers trained in Astapor. All Immaculates are eunuchs, castrated in childhood, and subjected to brutal training for many years to become perfect soldiers—blindly loyal to their master, known for their iron discipline and fearlessness of pain or death. They are trained and armed in the fashion of ancient Ghiscari legions—using short swords, shields, and three spears.

Like other slaves in the Slave Bay, Immaculates come from various peoples: Dothraki, Lhazarene, natives of the Free Cities, Qarthians, Summer Islanders, Naathi, even Ghiscari—the slave traders' own kin.

From the pool of slaves arriving in Astapor, boys up to five years old are selected for castration, choosing the strongest, quickest, and most resilient. According to information from prostitutes, they undergo complete castration, removing both the penis and testicles...

"I never cease to be amazed by the cruelty of people..."

But the real horror starts before castration... The subsequent training is incredibly harsh, and only one in three boys survives it. From dusk till dawn, future Immaculates learn to wield traditional Ghiscari infantry weapons—a short sword, shield, and three spears.

As they grow, Immaculates undergo a series of physical fitness, coordination, and discipline exams—they are made to run all day at full speed, climb mountains in the dark night, and walk over hot coals. On the day of castration, each boy is given a puppy, which he must care for for a year; at the end of the year, the future Immaculate must strangle the puppy.

Those six-year-old castrates who refuse to do this are killed and fed to the surviving dogs, serving as a lesson to the other students. As a final exam before receiving a helmet and spear, the future Immaculate must kill a child.

Immaculates are also valued for their loyalty to their master. They cannot be bribed or persuaded to switch sides with promises of freedom. Taking anything that isn't theirs is strictly forbidden. They do not conceive of themselves outside of their duty, outside of obedience to their master.

I've seen people try to bribe these men, but every attempt has been unsuccessful. But generally, in Qohor, my observations suggest that people treat them better than in other cities. At the time, no one but the Immaculates helped the city during the Dothraki advance. At least many mercenaries refused to honor their contracts.

Of course, the victory of the Immaculates wasn't just because these slaves were incapable of retreating or fearing. But also because the Dothraki attacked the Immaculate column time and again without any tactic or strategy.

"Mr. Red, here is your order," said the tavern waitress.

Distracted from my thoughts, I only replied:

"Thank you."

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Chapter 50 has already been published