2 Gasoline

Gathered in the place that had once been the slave market, they stood, where they had once been all treated as nothing more but things.

Astapor had changed from a normal red to a dark crimson. Everywhere, the marks of what had occurred could be seen, could be felt.

An uprising, a rebellion, the beginning of something new. Araz had been a slave. Fortunately, the good masters of Astapor had preferred to use him for his mind instead of something much worse.

Things hadn't been perfect. He still had been a slave but things could have been worse.

He had taken the brunt of the insults and sometimes the physical punishments the good masters gave him when he did something they thought deserved to be punished.

This was life. Cruel, senseless and unfair but it was life. He had never thought that anything could change.

This was until he came. Aegor was said to be his name. He had been a slave like all of them, a pleasure slave probably bred in Lys and sold to one of the Good masters.

Like all slaves, Aegor lived, suffered without being able to do anything and died. This should have been the end, just one amongst thousands of similar stories.

It should have been all yet it hadn't been. The paradigm changed and a miracle happened in the god-forsaken city of Astapor.

Aegor came back from the dead. Some said that he never died, that it was a ruse but Araz had been a slave for decades.

A good master would have never thrown a slave, more precisely a pleasure slave as long as they weren't sure the slave had passed.

It hadn't been uncommon for Good masters to still use the bodies of their recently dead pleasure slaves. If Aegor had tried to trick his old master, he would have failed.

'Maybe, he would have succeeded,' a voice in the back of his mind whispered. Aegor was after all not like most. He had proven it in the past days.

Araz still thought Aegor didn't fake his death. What would have been the point if, since the beginning, he could have demolished the red Pyramids of Astapor?

Aegor rose from the dead and brought rebellion with him. The unsullied, the greatest weapon of the good masters of Astapor chose to follow him instead of fighting him like it had been expected from them.

All of this had been before Aegor displayed his magic against the still loyal guards and mercenaries of the good masters.

Astapor had been the oil and Aegor the fire. Some of the good masters had tried to escape through the port.

They were literally torn apart by mobs of freed slaves.

Some of the good masters had tried to hide. They tried and failed. Others had tried like the old master of Araz to barricade themselves with their still loyal servants.

How stupid of them. They had worried so much about the exterior threat that they had forgotten most members of their households, those who took care of their children and wives were slaves.

Araz remembered the satisfaction he had felt when he had plunged a dagger into the neck of the one who had been his master, how the eyes of the good master had widened in shock and despair, how his terrified gaze had moved to his children before they were thrown by girl servants in the mob of freed slaves outside.

Araz hadn't felt regret. He hadn't felt remorse. A slaver no matter how old they were stayed a slaver. Those children were guilty, guilty of the sins of their ancestors. It was fair for them to pay for it with their life.

It was after while Astapor was being cleansed of the filth that he saw it, that they all saw it. The red Pyramids of Astapor were set ablaze with flames that still burnt to this day.

He may have been far but Araz had seen Aegor. Araz saw him rise like a god in the heavens the broken form of a good master in one of his hands. Araz knew that he hadn't been the only one to see such a thing.

Some of them had cried in joy, some of them had been in shock, some of them had fallen on their knees and prayed.

Astapor, one of the most renowned slave cities had all its slaves freed. Astapor was set alight by a god in the shape of a young boy, a young boy who once had been just like them.

Aegor's actions only gave more credence to the ones who saw him as a god. The good masters had been keeping most of the available food in their towers.

After the euphory of being freed went down, they soon were met with the problem of feeding themselves, of surviving.

Tension rose in all of Astapor and riots almost erupted. It had seemed as if nothing would truly change, as if they would go back to the same old violence they were all used to.

They had been slaves and all they had ever known in their life had been fear and violence. Was it surprising that even free from the yoke, they would try to go back to this familiar violence by trying to inflict it on others who were just like them?

Worse, it hadn't even been more than four days since they had been freed and already, many slaves had proclaimed themselves kings and queens of Astapor.

Araz had been watching on the sidelines. Were they all doomed to repeat the same cycle of oppression again and again?

What was the difference between a slaver and a king? They both took and took until they were fat and full while others starved. Would the boy Aegor also declare himself king and reign like the Valyrians once did? Like the once-powerful Targaryen family did?

He had been mostly disillusioned about what was happening but a part of him, a naive one had still held hope that things would be different, could be different.

A fight, a battle between the different 'kings and queens' of Astapor had been at the point of beginning when the boy had appeared, coming down from the sky like a divine being.

Everyone had gotten quiet seeing him. They all knew who he was and what he was capable of doing.

Araz had expected the boy to slaughter, to crown himself king with the blood of those who dared call themselves royal.

Instead, the boy had done something else, another miracle. The moment his feet touched the ground, the Earth had begun to move, to quake.

Something rose from under them, breaking through the red bricks of Astapor and continuing its Ascension in what seemed to be a never-ending way.

They had realized that the gigantic thing, which had been the size of one of the Pyramids of Astapor had been a tree, a tree on which they had seen what seemed to be an endless amount of fruit hanging.

The boy had with one gesture eradicated any chance of possible starvation. The boy had with one gesture shown that he was so much more than what it was believed him to be.

Aegor had fallen unconscious after, dropping down as if he had been struck by an invisible arrow coming from the heavens.

They had all stayed there, watching his unmoving with shock and awe. None tried to hurt him. None tried to use this moment of weakness.

That day, 'the kings and Queens' of Astapor all laid their crowns around the prone body of the boy.

Moments later, the unsullied would arrive to retrieve the boy and leave. Araz had tasted one of the fruits hanging on the tree the boy had created.

It had felt as if he had bitten in paradise-made form. Nothing that he had ever tasted could compare even if as someone who was a slave most of his life, it didn't mean anything.

More than that, it had been as if by biting into the fruit, all of his old injuries and ailments still haunting him disappeared. He hadn't been the only one to experience this.

People with missing limbs saw their limbs grow back. Sick people became healthy. Marks of shame, of torture disappeared too.

It's as if biting on one of the fruits erases any bad experiences they had in the city of Astapor.

Was it then surprising that when they all learned from the unsullied that the boy wanted to talk to all of them, they all came?

Aegor wasn't a king. He wasn't a new kind of slaver. He was a god, a merciful one, their god and since when do believers refuse their gods?

Aegor wasn't a king because unlike them, the boy would be followed because of one thing, love and pure untainted devotion. Aegor was a god in Aras' eyes because a true god didn't need cruelty to be followed and Araz would do anything so that nothing may impede this merciful god in the shape of a boy.

*scene*

All of Astapor stood under me. They were countless like stars in the sky. They were waiting I knew, waiting for me, here because they had answered my call.

I was nervous, I realized. Why though? I had enough power to eradicate this city if I wished to do so. I had enough power to be legitimately considered a god.

Some were already doing so I learnt from Greyworm, the leader of the unsullied. They had asked me to become my own personal guard. I had wanted to refuse until he saw the yearning and despair in their eyes until I realized that it was the only thing they knew.

All their lives, they were only taught how to fight, to kill and nothing else. If I wanted to change them without breaking them, I needed to do it slowly.

A part of me wished to leave. Astapor didn't have to be my responsibility. I owe all of them nothing. With my powers, I could go live more than comfortably in an isolated place alone.

There were threats in this world. This world was a tragic one but it was also a story and every story had an end.

I didn't need to do anything. Sooner or later, Daenerys would hatch her dragons and liberate the other slaver cities.

The white walkers I knew would probably be dealt with by a hero, a modern Ahor Azai. I could just leave.

And let the same bullshit that happened to me continue? What was the difference between the one with the lash and the one who could stop them but didn't?

I knew more than I wished, more than I wanted what it was to be a slave, what it was to be nothing but an object.

The fury deep inside me began to bubble up. There were thousands of Kraznys in this world. Thousands of people just like me. My gaze fell on Grey Worm and thousands of people like him, my gaze changed, moving to the form of a brown skin girl with thick curls, thousands of people like her.

'No, I would not stop. I would not run,' I thought as I walked on a balcony giving on to the crowd.

"People of Astapor!" I said softly yet my voice boomed like thunder, my magic making sure everyone in Astapor and maybe beyond would hear me.

I could feel their gazes, their fearful and amazed stares "We freed ourselves from the oppression of the good masters with our bare hands!"

"WE SHOWED THEM THAT THEY WERE JUST LIKE US! WE SHOWED THEM THAT THEY BLED RED JUST LIKE US! DIDN'T WE?" I asked.

"WE DID!" the crowd shouted.

"WE BROKE OUR CHAINS TOGETHER! WE GAINED BACK SOMETHING THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ONCE SINCE THE BEGINNING, FREEDOM! WE ARE FREE!"

"FREE!"

"WE ARE FREE!"

"WE BROKE OUR CHAINS!

"FREE!"

"FREE"

"FREE"

They sang and shouted. Manic fervour animated them their voices making the earth itself quake like an awakening god.

"WE ARE FREE AND FOR THIS, THE WORLD SEARCH TO PUNISH US!" I needed to direct them, their feelings and the easiest way to do so was through anger and fear. Fear was inherent to the human nature. Fear could change people, turn saints into monsters, innocents into butchers but fear could also assemble, gather.

"WHO!"

"WE ARE FREE!"

"NO CHAINS!"

"NO CHAINS!

"WHO'S THE ENEMY!"

"THE WORLD ITSELF IS OUR ENEMY!" I shouted. "THE WORLD ITSELF IS THE ONE THAT WANTS TO BRING US DOWN AND TO THIS, I SAY NO!"

The flames covering the Pyramids rose burning through the sky giving it and the world a purple hue.

"I'LL FIGHT TO KEEP OUR FREEDOM! I'LL FIGHT TO FREE OUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS STILL SHACKLED BECAUSE THE ONLY TRUTH IS THAT WE ALL ARE FREE!"

"WE ALL ARE FREE!" the mob shouted. WE ALL ARE FREE! WE ALL ARE FREE!"

"KING AEGOR! KING AEGOR! KING AEGOR!" the crowd began to chant to my horror. Being king was the last thing I wanted. I knew myself. I didn't like what I would become with absolute power.

"NO CROWN WOULD REST ON MY HEAD! NO KING OR QUEEN ASTAPOR WOULD HAVE" I cut the crowd. "ASTAPOR WON'T BE LEAD BY A KING OR A QUEEN! ASTAPOR WILL BE LED BY US ALL! THIS IS THE END OF THE ERA UNSEEN RULERS, OPPRESSORS! THIS IS OUR ERA AN ERA OF FREEDOM! POWER TO US ALL! POWER TO THE PEOPLE!"

The crowd cheered. Monarchies in themselves were bad ideas. Giving Power to someone who didn't deserve it, who wasn't fit, worthy of it just because of their lineage was an error.

"POWER TO US ALL! POWER TO THE PEOPLE!" they bellowed under me. "POWER TO US ALL! POWER TO THE PEOPLE!"

Now for the last nail in the coffin. I opened my arms fully "I'LL FIGHT FOR US ALL! I'LL FIGHT FOR OUR FREEDOM! I'LL FIGHT FOR THE FREEDOM OF OUR SHACKLED SIBLINGS! WOULD YOU ALL FOLLOW ME?! WOULD ALL OF YOU CHANGE THE WORLD WITH ME?!"

"WE'LL FOLLOW YOU!" some said.

"AEGOR! AEGOR! Other chanted.

"BROKEN CHAINS! FREEDOM! BROKEN CHAINS! FREEDOM!"

I felt a smile split my face. Men died. Gods did too but ideas didn't. I knew that what was happening right now would reach the other all of Essos and beyond.

Those who thought like me would feel emboldened, those hopeless would finally hope and the ones holding the chains would tremble.

This was just the beginning and I would not stop until everyone on this damned planet would be free whether it was from physical or metaphysical chains.

*scene*

"Have you heard old friend? Tales of magic and change in the red city, tales about a silver-haired boy."

"I did and I don't like it. Magic is like a sword without a hilt . True magic is only born of suffering and atrocities."

"Don't you think it's too harsh? I thought you of everyone would feel compassion."

"I am just not foolish. The boy is a threat, one that needs to be eliminated. He may appear harmless but sooner or later, things will get wrong. Something must be done before things get wrong!"

"Don't fret old friend."

"Who you sent against the boy? Normal assassins would not be enough."

A chuckle escaped the lips of the other "I didn't need to send somebody else. The boy is a sorcerer and in the same way, power attracts power, magic attracts magic. I sent no one because the house of black and white was empty. Some also say that most members of the House of the Undying Left."

"Do you mean that…?"

"Yes, old friend. There is no need to do anything. We just have to wait and watch the boy fall."