Blood Mysteries

The commotion in the archery field reached its peak as the city guards swiftly moved to apprehend Jalabhar Xho. The Summer Islander, his bow taken away, struggled against the guards, shouting witchcraft and foul play. The audience watched in a mixture of shock and confusion.

The tourney announcer, realizing the gravity of the situation, stepped forward, clearing his throat. "Lords and ladies, we apologize for the uncouth behaviour witnessed here. I am sure the city guards will handle the matter accordingly. Now, let's focus on celebrating the skills of our remarkable archers."

He paused until a man came up to him and whispered the results in his ear, scanning the archery field and the remaining competitors. "By the prowess displayed today, it is without a doubt that the victor of the archery contest is none other than Legio Cainhurst, Master Hunter from Essos!"

The crowd erupted into applause in a wave. Amidst the cheers, the guards escorted the disgraced Jalabhar Xho away who was still shouting witchcraft.

As Legio was declared the winner, he was graced by many souls gazes from not only the competitors but also the lords who had bet their coin on them. Then an official approached him, extending an invitation to approach the royalty. "The Queen herself wishes to reward you for your exceptional performance. Please, come with me."

Legio followed the official through the field crowd as the City Watch guarded his path to prevent any further incidents. King Robert in his seat, large and fat laughed loudly through his large black beard, "Go on, Master Hunter have a reward deserving of your skill. I have seen a man catch an arrow like that before, but that was theatrics, that man was of a performing troupe from Bravos. But you, no, what you showed was actual skill."

Legio said nothing and looked across the royal family with a stern gaze.

King Robert frowned and pointed to his face, "Now about the mask, take it off. The victor of all shouldn't stand faceless when showered with glowy."

Legio replied a voice muffled through the mask, "Apologise, your Grace. But I wish to keep the face hidden until the end of the tourney."

To this King Robert grunted in annoyance, "One of those mystery knights, are you? Very well then."

He looked to his Queen and gave a nod that signalled something.

Queen Cersei stood up from her seat, her blonde hair cascading as she slowly descended the stairs. She remained regal in her demeanour, as a royal servant came and handed her the prize.

"Legio Cainhurst," she addressed him, "your skills with a bow have earned you the honour of being rewarded by the crown. As the winner, you shall receive ten thousand gold dragons in bank notes."

The Queen handed him a sealed envelope, containing the promised reward on a silver platter. Legio gave a respectful nod and picked up the envelope without saying anything.

A horn resounded in the air marking the end of the Archery event and the voices of the crowd took over. Legio looked in the direction of tourney tents, turned on heel paying no more heed to the King, Queen or the crowd. The crowd of common folks were cheering but even they looked confused. Normally one would expect him to give a few bows to the crown, before raising his winning in front of the crowd as he heard the cacophony of a hundred voices raising his name, but Legio simply didn't.

He walked away against all common courtesy and his figure slowly became smaller and smaller by the distance. The blonde prince Joffery spewed something like the hunter was being disrespectful and should be shown his place while King Robert just laughed it away.

From the platform where the Small Council members stood and watched all this unfold, Littlefinger said, "An odd one, but I have to say you do have a keen eye, Lord Stark."

Lord Stark remained silent looking at the Hunter and an idea started taking form in the back of his head.

***************

Away from all this, in Essos, Daenerys felt afraid to dream again, even as Drogo held him tightly as she slept on him, on the fur bed inside their tent. She recalled that nightmare she had on their wedding night.

Again Viserys was hitting her, hurting her. She was naked, clumsy with fear. She ran from him, but her body seemed thick and ungainly. He struck her from behind. She stumbled and fell.

"You woke the dragon," he screamed as he kicked her. "You woke the dragon, you woke the dragon."

Her thighs were slick with blood. She closed her eyes and whimpered. As if in answer, there was a hideous ripping sound and the crackling of some great fire. When she looked again Viserys was gone, great columns of flame rose all around, and in the midst of them was the dragon. It turned its great head slowly. When its molten eyes found hers, she woke, shaking and covered with a fine sweat.

It was a a horrible dream, something she didn't want to see again, but soreness from "lovemaking" as her handmaids called it and riding on horseback all day added to that and took her to the blackness as it did every night.

The first vision she saw this time was strange but intense. All she saw was a man in a great dark coat, wearing a strange hat standing on a hill surrounded by a field of white flowers. It was a surreal, but ultimately soothing picture.

The next moment was the most terrifying sight she had seen in her long years.

Instead of the beautiful white flowers, the man in the dark coat was now standing on a field of dismembered corpses of monsters, even men and women. Their faces were pale, bloodied and filled with a horror that would stay with her for the rest of her life. The man she saw in her vision had changed, for he was no longer standing tall and proud facing the north. He instead faced the other way, bloodied and battered but also unbowed. In one hand he held a demented weapon, a terrifying fusion of a giant saw and a cruel cleaver. In the other was a severed head, but of man or woman's Danareys couldn't tell.

She blinked and the scenery changed again. That scene of bloodshed was gone, the man was gone, and now there was a strange "House" of wood if one could call it that with a stone staircase leading to it. This whole scene was bathed in the pale light of an unnaturally large moon in a starless black sky.

When she came closer Danareys noticed a woman in foreign garb standing there, she looked Valayrian-like, with the famed silver hair and pale skin, the difference was seen when the woman's blue eyes met Danarey's lavenders.

"You aren't a hunter," the woman spoke in a gentle tone, "then who are you who visits the Hunter's Dream?"

Danareys approached the woman with caution, then answered with a tone she viewed as powerful, "I am Danareys Stormborn Targaryen, wife of Khal Drogo. Who are you?"

"Oh, I am but a doll who watches over this dream," the woman answered without any hint of maliciousness or deceptiveness her handmaidens would sometimes show.

Danareys with distress looked around the landscape, she inquired, "What is this place?"

The woman's response to this again was seemingly cryptic. "This is a place for the Good Hunter's respite should be tired of the waking world?"

So Danareys had to ask another question, "Who is the Good Hunter?"

The woman answered, "He is the god of this dream." Then she began asking, "Now, Lady Danareys, would you be so kind enough to tell me who Khal Drogo is?"

*****************

'What now?'

This question had plagued Legio soon after the Hunt ended. Now that the task that had taken so much of himself and beyond was done, what was left to do for him for the rest of his immortality?

'What now?' he had asked himself more than a thousand times.

But now as he found himself seated on the grass, his back pressed against a tent and his hands holding and writing on a large leather journal, looking at the lifelike sketches and notes resting on his lap he found a purpose. Legio felt what he was before he came to Yahrnam, back when he ordinary man, a curious scholar interested in the many mysteries of the world. So one of the many mysteries of this world became the subject of his curiosity, and that subject was Blood.

He closed his eyes as old words deep in his memory came to his hearing.

'We are born of the blood, made men by the blood, undone by the blood.'

Why did those of the highborn here have a greater amount of Blood Strength compared to the commonfolk? This feudal hierarchy was a social construct after all and in truth no man was different from the rest. Or was this notion false? Was there a metaphysical play behind manifesting in physicality through qualitative inequivalence in blood? The royalty here had the highest Blood Strength, after all, especially the King.

'All will be unravelled soon enough.'

He looked at the scenery bursting in front of him. Knights busied themselves inside or outside their colourful tent houses, tending to their weapons, and armour or even walking their their horses to prepare for tomorrow's joust under the midday sun's light. In this scene, somewhere in the corner, a man disguised as a leather worker was spying on Legio.

Legio had seen the sane man twice before in the tourney. He was disguised as a worker during the enlisting and as a servant during the shooting.

'Who is he?' Legio got frustrated with trying to figure out the question from a distance so he decided to get up and ask the man himself.

But before he could do so, a shadow of a different man fell upon him.

As Legio glanced up from his journal, he found himself face to face with a redheaded man in a guard's outfit. The stranger's voice was low and cautious as he spoke, "Legio Cainhurst?"

Legio nodded, intrigued by the unexpected visitor. "Yes, that's me. Who are you?"

The man hesitated for a moment before replying, "I am Alyn, a messenger. Lord Stark, the Hand of the King, summons you with an offer."

Legio raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the prospect. "An offer? What kind of offer?"

Alyn shuffled uncomfortably, clearly taken aback by Legio's directness. "I... I'm not sure of the details. Lord Stark wishes to speak with you personally. Will you accompany me to the Red Keep?"

Legio narrowed his eyes, sensing there was more to this than met the eye. "Before I agree to anything, can you stop blocking my sunlight?"

Alyn blinked in confusion but he quickly realised what he had meant and stepped away letting the sunlight fall back upon the journal's pages. Before he could gather his thoughts, Legio continued, his voice calm but firm.

"I suspect Lord Stark has more than just a simple offer for me. He's the Hand of the King now, and he's likely looking for someone with no allegiances within King's Landing but is of considerable skill to be his Hand's guard. Someone who can serve as his eyes and ears, his guard against any threats, real or perceived. Am I correct?"

Alyn's eyes widened in surprise, confirming Legio's suspicions. "H-how did you...?"

"It's quite simple, really," Legio interrupted. "The previous Hand's death was too sudden, even suspicious and Lord Stark believes it to be so. Now that he holds the position, he's taking precautions."

"I... I don't know what you're talking about. Lord Stark simply asked me to fetch you."

Legio regarded him with a knowing look before finally speaking. "Tell Lord Stark that I appreciate the offer, but I have no interest in being his guard. I have my reasons for staying out of the politics of King's Landing."

Whatever Lord Stark's intentions were, Legio had no desire to get involved. Saying this, he sighed and turned back to the direction where the disguised man was but he was gone from there, and out of the range of his detection.