Fuck it all

It's just a troll, just a new Chapter lol.

A bit on the short end, just 1,45k words. I somehow found it best to end the Chapter there.

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Dead silence reigned over the previous battlefield as both sides stared at the lifeless body of Magister Parquello Vhassyl, shocked by the events.

Lying there, robbed of his life, his executioner stood over him. Betrayal from within his own ranks, something Parquello had never imagined in his wildest dreams. He had taught his soldiers to fear him and ensured that no one would dare betray him—apparently, to no avail.

But it wasn't fear that drove this soldier. It was one of the seven deadly sins that had driven many others to shocking and cruel acts: greed.

He aspired to be more than just a simple soldier of House Vhassyl, something unthinkable for a slave, but here he stood, ready to sacrifice everything for a chance.

He cut off Magister Parquello's head, held it by the hair, and walked toward First Magister Azzak. No one stopped him on his way. The soldiers and guards of House Vhassyl were also slaves, and with their lord and master dead, most didn't know how to react.

The soldier knelt on one knee before First Magister Azzak, under the watchful eyes of the remaining house guards of House Sathmantes, and spoke.

"This one presents the head of Magister Parquello as a gift for the First Magister to do with as he sees fit," he said, eyes lowered to the floor.

"I must say, even I didn't see this coming," Azzak replied, looking at Parquello's head. "Give it to me," he ordered.

Without another word, the soldier handed Azzak Parquello's head, which Azzak took with a grin, turning it to examine from all angles.

"I already know what I'll do with this fine piece. A beautiful painting of this head and his stupid expression when he realized he had lost will amuse me and my descendants for centuries," he laughed as he handed the head to one of his guards.

"Now, as for you," Azzak continued, "stand up."

The soldier did as commanded.

"You must be rewarded for your cunning in betraying your foolish master to protect me," Azzak said. "As you should know, a slave can't just change his master, but"—he stopped, looking at the head of Magister Parquello—"your master is otherwise occupied," and chuckled slightly.

"I offer you a place in my ranks, as Captain of the Household Guard. Do you accept the offer?" Azzak asked and looked directly into the soldier's eyes.

"This one is honored to be chosen," the soldier answered stoically.

"Good, good," Azzak mumbled. "With this, I will give you the name Daxos for your good decision-making skills."

"This one is honored to have been given a name," the now-named Daxos said, standing up.

Every soldier in Lys is a slave, trained to obey their masters, fight for them, and ultimately die for them. They are raised to be loyal to their masters, and while the nobles of Lys have learned much from the Valyrians and the Ghiscari Empire about handling slaves, they have invented some customs and techniques of their own.

Just as the eldest daughter Volantis has tattoos to identify her slaves, the Lyseni have begun offering slaves a chance at a better life. Through unwavering loyalty and dedication, they are allowed to be given a name by their master, the first step towards freedom.

Another preventive tactic, nothing more. False freedom, but the slightest hope is enough to strengthen their loyalty.

"Yes, yes," Azzak waved to stop Daxos from talking further and began walking towards the remaining soldiers of House Vhassyl, but suddenly stopped in his tracks beside Daxos.

"You just forgot one thing, Daxos," he whispered into Daxos's ear. "What use is a dog that has bitten his master?" and stabbed a dagger into his belly.

"Urgh," Daxos stumbled back, clutching his belly around the dagger as blood poured out.

"Slit his throat," Azzak ordered coldly, and his guards did as they were told. Two came and held his arms while Daxos tried unsuccessfully to resist with his quickly dwindling strength. A third person came forward and, without hesitation, slit Daxos's throat.

The other two dropped him on the ground and watched as he pathetically bled to death.

Azzak, for all his cruelty, was not a foolish or ungrateful man. He recognized that without Daxos, his house and himself would have vanished from the annals of history. Yet, he also knew that Daxos's single act was an affront to everything the Lyseni stood for and had drilled into the minds of their slaves.

A slave who betrayed his master could not be allowed to live, no matter how much Azzak appreciated the betrayal. The next time, he might be the one lying motionless on the ground, pecked and devoured by ravens.

All slaves had to be constantly reminded that only their masters determined their life and death; they had no free will.

He gave Daxos a name out of gratitude and took his life as a reminder to all who might even think of betraying their master.

He was about to give the remaining slave soldiers of House Vhassyl an order when he heard the unmistakable sounds of heavily armored soldiers approaching. The rhythmic clanking gave it away.

Azzak paused, his eyes narrowing as the sound grew louder. The disciplined march could only mean one thing: the Valyrian army was finally approaching.

The remaining soldiers and slaves turned their heads to the streets.

The first ranks of the Valyrian soldiers came into view, their leader at the front. He was a tall, imposing figure, with a stern expression that betrayed no emotion. He looked at the chaos before him and saw that Magister Parquello was already dead. As one of the higher-ranking officers, he had to know the faces and names of the Magisters.

"First Magister Azzak Bessaro Sathmantes," his voice rang out, authoritative and commanding, "by the decree of Fleet Admiral Ayrmidon, you are to cease all hostilities immediately and submit to the authority of the Valyrian Freehold. Drop your weapons, or we will do it for you" he added.

Azzak's face hardened, but he knew better than to defy the Valyrian army. He nodded, and signaled his slaves to drop their weapons and the slaves of House Vhassyl followed suit.

"Put him in chains and bring him to me."

The second in command of the naval forces stationed in front of Lys, Commodore Urleys, commanded and watched as his soldiers carried out his order.

He had no clear idea of what had transpired, and even though it was obvious that the estate of First Magister Azzak Bessaro Sathmantes had been attacked and he appeared to be the victim at first glance, he needed to investigate the situation.

He and the fleet admiral had first learned about the events in the city through the glass candles from Vaella Moerion of House Moerion, an elderly, reclusive dragonrider. Even though Vaella and other dragonriders had no control over the military power of the Freehold, which was held only by the Council of Valyria composed of the 40 Lord Freeholders, they still had to heed the words of dragonriders and, by extension, the descendants or relatives of the Lord Freeholders and in many cases, follow their commands when the situations were appropriate.

In this case, it was their duty and the reason they were stationed here, so they immediately set course for Lys.

Commodore Urleys watched as the soldiers efficiently placed Azzak Bessaro Sathmantes in chains. The First Magister glared defiantly, but he offered no resistance.

"Take him away," Urleys ordered. "I will question him personally."

The soldiers nodded and marched Azzak away. Urleys turned his attention to the scene around him. The chaos was evident: bodies littered the ground, buildings were smoldering, and the air was thick with the acrid smell of smoke and blood.

He needed answers, and quickly. The Council would want answers to this.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Well, well, well, what do we have here, another Chapter it seems.

First of all, sorry for the scare, if you even realized it at all. Maybe I need to practice this a bit more...

Second, anyone can guess why I named him Daxos?