1 Reborn in the Dothraki Sea

"The Dothraki people are a culture of nomadic warriors in Essos who range across the vast grasslands of the Dothraki sea in hordes known as khalasars. People of the Seven Kingdoms and the Free Cities also refer to the Dothraki as horse lords" Miller shouted while holding a pitcher of beer and standing on a table in the middle of a pub.

The town had convened to have a watch party of the latest Game of Thrones episode and Miller was absolutely disgruntled by what he had witnessed on the screen that night. His favorite people had met their end and the woman who was supposed to take care of them the way they took care of her is the one who led them to their death.

"How fucking disgusting!" Miller shouted again. He put the pitcher to his lips and down half of it as the pub laughed and cheered. "Their horse trample the world! They are fearless and mighty! Honorable and proud! Centuries of deep rich culture all turned to shit due to a stupid fucking bitch that led them into the jaws of the cold demons!"

Miller then shouted in full-blown Dothraki cursing the Horse God, Daming the prophecies of the Dothraki as useless filler content, Cursing the useless fuck Khal Drogo to a painful and restless afterlife.

"The only good thing about this…" Miller once again spoke in English for all to understand, "Is that the Horselords died with their horses. With that being said, I'm done with this shit. All my hopes have been dashed. Who wants to take me home?!"

"Miller! You're shit-faced and you still manage to think about getting your cock wet. What a fucking degenerate. Adyen! Take your brother home!" Pat, the pub owner shouted.

"Fuck you, Pat! I can't wait until the Lannisters are wiped out."

"Hey! He's gone too far now! Ayden! Get him out of here!"

Sometime later, Ayden walked his brother a few blocks before sending him on his way alone.

"Hey, loser! Aren't you going to walk me home?" Miller slurred.

"No! Andie Prescot is finally giving me the time of day. You think I'm going to waste it on a drunken Dothraki fanatic?!"

"Oi! That's not...very nice. But since you're being a dick, why don't you ask that bitch Andie Prescot how mine tasted. She and her cousin seemed to love it last saturday..No wait. Her cousin sucked it last Saturday and I fucked her. It was yesterday that she sucked me off in the pub's loo. You should hurry back, who knows who's cock she's swallowing now!"

Miller fell over laughing but every word he said was the outright truth and his brother knew it. The whole town knew Miller loved the Dothraki for a reason. All that guy did was drink, fight, fuck, and ride horses at the ranch he worked for during the week.

Ayden was fuming but he felt the need to rush back to the pub.

"Run, boy! Run! You fucking, loser! Who would have thought, I raised such a wimp! It's cause I spoiled him!" Miller slurred as he threw his glass at nothing.

Miller had spent his teens and young adult years looking after Ayden. His dad was in jail and his mother was good for nothing but living on government checks and disappearing for weeks on end.

"The stallion who mounts the world….It sure isn't that kid…" Miller mumbled as he stumbled home.

On his way, the sky changed and a storm rolled in.

Miller smiled as the storm sounded of thousands of horses running across the world. He mumbled happily in Dothraki as he finally made it to the sidewalk in front of his home. He then reaches out and puts his hand on the gate. The moment he pushes the gate latch up, the lighting cracked.

However, Miller didn't hear it as the lightning bolt hit the metal gate and fried the drunk man. The sounds of lightning striking came shortly after Miller had already be smoten.

"Shite! How much did I drink last night!"

"Not enough. If you had, you had have escaped your fate!" A voice boomed in Miller's head.

"Aish! Ayden, stop shouting."

"Oh, I'm not your brother. He's getting laid right now. He actually bagged Andie Prescot. This time next month she's going to convince him that your baby is his since you just died."

Miller's eyes snapped open and he hopped to his feet. He looked around frantically and found himself in a sunny grass plain.

"Who said that?" he asked, anxiously.

"The great Akasha. The mantle of time and space that composes all things that are and aren't. Welcome, Miller Lite, you've recently said a lot of harsh words about the Horse God. Lucky for you, he respects your skills as horse tamer."

"So I died for telling the truth?" Miller spoke to the sky.

"Ehh, maybe. Let's call it fate for now. Anyway, you have a one-time opportunity to show the gods that you can do better. The power of prophecy holds the divine will of the God that prophecy belongs to. The Stallion who mounts the world is still an active prophecy. As we speak a woman is soon to devour the entire heart of a stallion and lick her fingers clean of its blood. That woman can be your mother."

Miller that of the woman eating the Stallion's heart. According to his knowledge, a pregnant khaleesi might participate in the stallion heart ceremony, although it is unknown under what circumstances the ceremony occurs. During the ceremony, the khaleesi will attempt to consume the heart of a stallion under the supervision of the dosh khaleen. Due to the prohibition on bearing steel in Vaes Dothrak, the mother must tear apart the stallion's heart with her bare teeth and fingernails. If she eats the entire heart, she will bear a son who is strong and swift and fearless; if she chokes on the blood or retches up the flesh, the omens are less favorable — the child might be stillborn, weak, deformed, or female.

To have such a mother after the one he was originally born with is a blessing within itself.

"I see you are pleased," Akasha spoke.

"A Dothraki and a badass mother. Don't get me wrong, dying, and this place is all weird and more than I can comprehend, but I'm a little narrow-minded when it comes to the Dothraki. I was kind of raised on a horse. And when my father went to jail, horses were all I had. So, what will happen if I agree to all of this, I mean, I'm dead already. I'm sure I can't go back."

"If you agree will be born to Khaleesi Zhali in Khalasar at the edge of the Dothraki sea. As for her history and your destiny, it is yours to discover. You get three wishes, use them wisely as new rules will be bent for you." Said Akasha.

"Then naturally I won't ask for magic. I might get strapped to a pyre…" Miller thought for a moment and contemplate life in the Dothraki Sea.

"First, I want a compendium of herbs, roots, barks, trees, flowers, and natural things. I want their medicinal properties and how to use them. I'll be damned if I die of infection like that other idiot." Said Miller.

"Interesting. It is done. Two more."

"I want Sleipnirs to exists as rare horse species. What benefits they bring can be up to the horse god. But catching and taming one must be a great honor amongst the Dothraki."

"That's some wish. What if you never catch one?" Akasha asked.

"Then I'm not worthy. But it would be fun to try. And If I do manage to catch one, wouldn't that be something." Miller smiled as he fantasied.

'What a horse-centric.' all of the Gods thought.

Only the Horse God patted himself on the back for choosing a good seed.

"And your third and final wish?" Akasha asked.

"Hmm? I guess this will be the part where I get selfish."

"I hope so," said Akasha.

The gods silently watching find the exchange amusing.

"How about battle prowess. You now like the Demigods from the Percy Jackson series. Nu like Leto Valdez level. That guy could analyze his opponent's fighting style. But whether I win or not is still up to my skill."

"Say less… The abilities Leo Valdez, done."

"Wait that's not what…"

Akasha had already snapped his fingers and Miller was gone.

Akasha looked at the stadium of Gods and said, " This one's a good one. Now to complete his second wish. Horse Lord, with your Divine Will, you must deliver the Sleipnir to the world and state their wonders."

"The eight-legged horse king. Greater than all other breeds. The wild and untamable. Those who manage should be among the mightiest of Dothraki. They should be given domain of horses, eyes of the deadliest archer, and…"

"Ahh, Krazzo, you suck as a god. Allow me to help." A woman with hair like nightshade and eyes as red as blood spoke.

"Save by the wife again!" an unknown god shouted.

"Who shall ever catch and tame a Sleipnir shall be given domain of horses, Eyes of the deadliest archer, and the Libido of the Sleipnir." The red-eyed woman declared as the Sleipnir shimmer in black and cyan radiance before falling to Planetos and multiplying.

"And the Goddess of Lust and Whoring dose it again!"

"Pry for his wives if he ever gets his hands on a Sleipnir."

"Hey, do you think Old Man Odin would mind us stealing his horses?"

The stadium went silent and everyone shivered.

"Don't worry about him. He's in a long sleep right now." Akasha assured them and they all relaxed.

"Hephaestus! You're needed to complete his second wish," said Akasha.

Hephaestus smirk as he dropped him on the ground and a stream of black crimson energy was injected into Zhali's womb. Merging with Miller, who was now just a fetus.

"And for his third wish. Asclepius, you're up," said Akasha.

"A compendium would be too big and unexplainable. So I'll give him a tutor in the form of a slave," said Asclepius.

Asclepius's body became ethereal and a piece of him splintered off, forming a single wisp. He then etched his divine decree into the wisp and injected it into the young slave girl that tended to Zhali.

"What he manages to learn will be based on his talent.' said Asclepius.

"Then that settles it. Let see what he makes of this life." Akasha's words faded and the gods dispersed as Akasha focused on a small settlement at the edge of the Dothraki Sea.

In that instant, 8 months had passed and Khaleesi Zhali was in labor. The small Khalasar of 80 men, 30 slaves, 70 women, and 15 children prepared for their Khaleesi to give birth.

At this time, The Khal had killed three of his best horses for a feast, and riders were sent out to invite the surrounding Khals to join in the celebration. Naturally, only those allied were invited.

Zhali stayed in labor for eight hours until she finally pushed a whining Miller out. The moment she looked at him, she called him, Zhano.

As his whines rolled across the grass plains, the Khalasar celebrated his birth. But Akasha had an impromptu thought he enacted just before the world laws restricted him from tampering further.

With the twist of his hands, all of Miller's memories were taken.

Five years Later…

"Zhano!" Zhali shouted.

Her son was once again in the grass fields and couldn't be seen. Since the time he could start walking, he had always been hyperactive and very coordinated while many of the other kids were clumsy.

When it was time to put him on a horse, he took to it like a babe to the nipple. Quiet recently, his father had begun to teach him to fight with the other kids. Getting him familiar with the weapons of the Dothraki.

In that to, Zhano was unnaturally adept. But what shocked the Khalasar was the drive the boy had to train. He wanted to be a warrior and just any warrior the best.

Zhano was playing around, hiding from his mother in the tall grass. He slowly approached her as she called for him. Just as he leaped his mother spun around and caught him.

"You are still too loud and too slow," she told him with a big smile. "Come. You are the Khalakka. You shouldn't wander by yourself. Armina with you or stay near me."

"What of the Kos?" Zhano asked childishly.

"Boy, do not test me. Those are your father's men and he is getting old and weak. We must stay together are find our end at the tip of their blades." Zhali explained.

"Hmm, they wouldn't dare," Zhano replied.

"They would." Zhali snapped. " Armina is waiting to give you lessons. "

The Mother and son duo were inseparable for the most part. The only one they let into their company was Armina, a slave that took care of the duo from the time of Zhali's pregnancy.

The year went by smoothly. Zhano trained his heart out and learned everything Armina taught him. The subconscious marks of Miller on his soul that were driving him.

Near years ends, Zhano had hurt a kid in his usual domineering fashion. Kids who made problems were just asking for a beating. Except for this time, his father was too sick to back him. The only thing that kept the Khalasar together was that his father still managed to ride his horse.

"Khal Vazzo, come here!" the kid's father shouted.

Zhali pulled Zhano aside while Armina was already on the move.

"Lajo, let it go. Children fight and it only makes them strong." Vazzo spoke from his tent. It had been a week since the Khalasar made camp and the Kos were becoming antsy.

"Mother…" said Zhano.

"Be still," she whispered.

"Vazzo, come out and speak to me! Food is low, medicine is low, these slaves are tired, your son hurts mine at least you can face me like a man!" the Ko was trying to provoke Vazzo and the Khalasar knew it.

It was only natural considering the state they were living in.

Vazzo sighed as he stepped out of his tent. The man was tall and built strong. Even as his copper skin aged his muscles remained defined. His shining black hair was pulled into a single braid that touched the back of his calves. In the braid were small bells from base to tip that jingled as he moved.

"Lajo, enough. If you want what's mine, then fight me," said Vazzo.

At this moment, Armenia appeared next to Zhali. She whispered, "The Khasar is ready, Khaleesi."

"Your only job is to get, Zhano to Vaes Dothrak." Said Zhali, "I can't let my Khal die alone."

"Khaleesi…" Armenia pleaded.

"I told you what you must do. "

Meanwhile, Vazzo and Lajo had squared off. It would be an insult to warriors to call it a fight. As Vazzo's blade met Lajo's a mouthful of blood was coughed up. Vazzo was dying and his sickness had become known.

Zhali watched this and her heart ached. She cursed the old fool for lying to her. She knew he had worsened but now she knew that her Khal was on his deathbed.

As the curved blad of Lajo came down on Vazzo's neck, Zhali pulled Zhano into her arms and fled. Together with Armenia and her Khasar, Zhali rode hard to the north.

Lajo gave chase with his people as they couldn't risk Zhano growing up and becoming a threat. Along the way, Zhali's Khasar died one by one until she rode into Vaes Dothrak and became untouchable.