A day in the Valyrian Mines

A/N: The first few chapters/arc are to bring you into the story, introduce the MC, and ease the reader into a different kind of experience that is my writing(for better or worse lol). As stated in the abstract, the story will not follow a singular timeline but will jump between different events and timelines for each arc, but please be patient with the story.

This has always been my dream, to explore the world of ASOIAF or Planetos and all the mythos around it from the continents of Ulthos and Sothoryos, the Great Empire of Dawn, the Assahi, the Lengs and so much more. So this is my attempt at fulfilling those wishes through fiction. Hope you like the journey as much as much as I did while thinking up and writing this.

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Taelar had been digging in the mines for a long time, he couldn't even remember how long it had been. In the hot, fiery, hell-like mines, you couldn't waste your time thinking about anything else, including the time you spent there, for there was no hope nor anything to look forward to.

In those dark serpentine tunnels, everyone was like an undead being, those fabled dead bodies that moved at the whims of the eastern sorcerers. In there, if you gave yourself even a moment to think, what awaited you would be utter despair and nothing else.

Taelar remembers a long time ago when he was but a young lad who had just been taken into these mines for a moon's turn. The place was dreary and the air there although stale was also very dry, felt almost like you were breathing sand.

The new slaves were grouped with the old ones so that they could learn the work faster. He had been the only new one in his group of pale, old, and dead-looking slaves as his partners.

After a while loneliness started to set in. But everyone he tried to talk to ignored him with a dull look in their eyes, then he had been advised by an old hag who looked like a skeleton wearing skin more than she looked like an old woman.

"Boy, you better stop counting days. You will never see anything but these dark walls and the dead eyes of men in here. The more you hope, the faster you die in this hole." He could still recall the grating voice of the old crone.

Although, as a young man of eight and ten years of age, he thought he knew better and kept trying to keep count, keep the hope alive. He had heard no slaves ever came out of these mines but surely not everyone dies here, right?

But after seeing someone he came in here within the same batch of slaves die by bashing their own head on the walls, after what he thought was about five years, he had stopped hoping and his eyes became as dead as the next person in the mines of Valyria.

Those who had the courage would off themselves in a variety of ways there. He had seen all kinds of suicides; a pickaxe to the head, eating molten rock that flowed in some parts of the mines, trying to pick a fight with a guard, and more. Although admittedly, the last one never ended well.

As for those who lacked courage like himself, Taelar and many others would pray to all the gods and demons to end their suffering as they hammered away at the stones so that the Valyrian Empire could be built.

'Fire and Blood they said but it was never their blood and never them burning on these fires. It's our blood and our ashes that builds those dragonlord bastards' towers.' He mused as he looked at the new partner in his group.

He couldn't remember how many he had seen come and go in his group. His hair had turned grey and from a young, hopeful youth that went into that mine beneath the 13th valyrian volcano all those years ago, he had already turned into a jaded old man.

"Boy, you better stop having any hope of leaving here and stop thinking anything. In these mines, only death awaits you. Eat what they give, shit where they tell you, and do whatever they ask of you and you might live longer." Taelar emulated his inner crone and warned the new young slave as he had been a long time ago.

It had almost become a ritual for him to do so with any new member. It was one of the very few things he could look forward to in his otherwise dull and dark life.

However, Taelar could see something different about this new mining slave that had been added to his team. As he focused on his face with the dim light of the lamp, he could see the boy's eyes already looked dead but not in the same way as he was used to.

No! It was something else. Those eyes looked dead but at the same time, they were so very alive. Just staring at them, Taelar could feel the emotions of curiosity, wonder, passion and so much more coming alive once more within himself.

But there was also the feeling of stagnation, rot, despair, sadness, and many dark emotions within those eyes. And Taelar had felt them all. He had really felt it all. Like magic!

Taelar suddenly stumbled back, "Wh-what are you?" He was terrified. After not feeling anything for so long, just looking at those eyes made him feel so much. Too much.

The boy in front of him smiled as he held the pickaxe and answered, "It happens when you see a lot of life and a lot of death."

It wasn't the answer he had sought but Taelar somehow felt relaxed like some mystery he had been holding onto had been solved, as if he found some answer he was seeking.

"I have many names, some I don't even remember but you can call me Raven, like the bird." The boy spoke again. Taelar didn't know what to make of his strange remarks but he let it be.

It may be interesting, but in the mines, if you let yourself get carried away with interest in things, you will only get mad when there are no more things of interest. So Taelar reined it in and got back to work.

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It had been a while since the new guy had joined his group but Taelar still couldn't get used to his presence. The guy called Raven was just too peculiar. He wanted to but just couldn't go back to being a mindless slave, the mystery of Raven pulled him in as a lodestone does to iron.

After having looked at him closer, in better lighting, Taelar could tell that Raven had a seemingly ordinary face with black hair and black eyes. But the more he looked at him, the more the face seemed to morph into an eerily handsome face.

It wasn't the Valyrian beauty that he had heard of and once seen among the dragonlords. No, it was more like the beauty of floating clouds in the blue sky, on a warm summer day. It was unexplainable.

Although Taelar himself had not actively tried talking to him, Raven would come by and ask him about many things from time to time. From mining to his life and other slaves, he would always have something to talk about.

It didn't help that no one other than himself would reply to Raven, making Taelar the target of all the questions. And he had to admit, Taelar hadn't felt so alive in a long time. It just felt refreshing and lively talking to the young man.

Sometimes, he doubted Raven was a young man though. There was something about his aura that Taelar had only felt in the mottled walls in the old mine, the aura of ancient vicissitudes.

Today, as usual, he was swinging his pickaxe at the stone walls with raven doing the same a short distance to him when they heard a distressed voice. It was a cry of anguish, it spoke of pain and desperation. Desperation for death.

It was a voice he had been far too familiar with, he wished he wasn't but such was life. He suddenly turned to see his young partner taking off toward the voice. He was dumbfounded.

"Raven! Wait! You shouldn't go there." He cried out as he followed behind the boy. He thought it was dumb of him to do so, but he still gave chase.

Further ahead he saw Raven standing still in front of the sickly old bag of bones who had gone mad. He caught up and stood beside the boy watching on.

"This happens when you let the despair consume you. You either kill yourself or wait and pray for death until you get mad like this. Here, this is all there is to life." said Taelar to Raven in an almost consoling manner. "The guards will come by to send him off if he doesn't die before they arrive."

Raven kept silent for a few seconds and then asked in an emotionless tone, "Is this the life of the miner slaves? Is this how all of them die?"

Taelar looked at the boy with a hint of pity and sighed, "Yes, the courageous go on their own terms and the cowards wait for the madness. Although, I don't know if they can be called courageous."

Raven nodded like he understood something very profound. Then he moved forward and reached the mad old man writhing on the floor, screaming and mumbling all by himself. He bent down and held the old man's head.

Taelar faintly heard Raven say. "A man should be able to return to the embrace of death with dignity. Valar Morghulis!" then he saw Raven twist his head and gently rest the now limp body against the wall.

The sight terrified Taelar. The way Raven killed the man was too methodical, it seemed practiced and graceful. He would've believed if someone told him death itself had come to reap the life of the old man.

He didn't make a sound or move, not even a twitch, He stood rooted and watched on in terror, awe, and fascination as Raven stood over the dead body, spoke something in a foreign language, and suddenly shot a ball of fire at the dead body.

The red, green, and blue flames changed colors and danced as they quickly devoured the man until nothing but a handful of ashes remained. Taelar had never seen anything so horrifying and beautiful in his life.

A new hope arose in his heart. Taelar looked on as Raven walked towards him with a calm look on his face. "Are you a sorcerer? Can you help me escape? I don't want to die here." He asked as a small spark started to burn bright inside him.

Raven stared at his face for a while and answered flatly, "No." But just as the spark was flickering, Raven added, "Nobody can help you change your destiny. You have to do it yourself. But I can teach you some tricks so that you may help yourself."

Taelar was ecstatic, he had finally found hope. He might be able to escape. Might…might….

As if sensing his dilemma, Raven spoke again, "The first lesson is to accept death as what it is, inevitable. You need to embrace it. The more you run from it, the more life slips out of your grasp. When you understand that death comes for all equally, you finally can take a step forward to taking hold of your own destiny."

"All men must die! Valar Morghulis!" The words kept ringing within Taelar's mind.