In the distance, several warships sailed towards the port of Blackwater Bay.
After the Long Night's arrival, the sea was equally dim and lightless, making navigation a task that required extra caution, especially when crossing the Narrow Sea between the two continents.
However, despite the perilous journey, the princes, magisters, and governors of the Free Cities, along with the Sealord of Braavos, envoys from the Kingdom of Ifequevron, and even representatives from Mago Khal, who had unified the Dothraki Sea, embarked on the voyage without hesitation, traveling thousands of miles to King's Landing to seek aid from the Empire.
For the Valyrian Empire was one of the world's two vast empires of mankind, its power as strong as the midday sun.
The Golden Empire of Yi Ti in the east was currently mired in its own troubles, unable to extend its reach. Moreover, the vast Bone Mountains served as a natural barrier separating the eastern and western parts of Essos. Crossing them was difficult even during the day, let alone now that the Long Night had descended.
Thus, the Golden Empire was powerless to save the world, and these small nations, city-states, and tribes could only turn their eyes to the vast empire in the west.
The Valyrian Empire now ruled over millions of subjects, its territory spanning two continents on both sides of the Narrow Sea, from the Sunset Sea to the Narrow Sea and even the Summer Sea. It was said that the distant Summer Isles had already been conquered by the imperial fleet.
Therefore, these people pinned their hopes on the west, praying that the dragon-riding Emperor of the Empire in King's Landing could step forward and turn the tide.
As the fleets from the east docked at the port, dignitaries from all over the world disembarked one after another.
Willas Tyrell and Tyrion Lannister, representing the Empire's upper echelons, stepped forward to greet them.
"Sealord," Willas addressed the first to disembark, Tormo Fregar, the Sealord of Braavos. He arrived on a ship of the Braavosi invincible fleet, its hull painted purple and flying the banner of the Titan, symbolizing the most unique and powerful of the Free Cities.
The Sealord of Braavos was accompanied by a sizable entourage, including his First Sword, the High Priest of the Moonsingers, and a representative of the Faceless Men wearing a golden mask. A black-haired, hook-nosed attendant followed at his side.
Willas Tyrell, a man of vast knowledge, had once served as the Empire's tax collector and later as the Magistrate of Gulltown, where he proved his mettle. Naturally, he recognized the symbols of Braavos and could easily identify the Sealord among the crowd.
He approached the Sealord, leaning on his cane, and engaged in conversation, with Tyrion at his side. However, Tyrion seemed distracted, his eyes scanning the Braavosi delegation, searching for something. Unfortunately, he was disappointed, failing to spot anyone resembling Jaime.
On the ships carrying the other envoys, someone remarked with sarcasm, "The Empire truly looks down on us, sending a dwarf and a cripple to greet us."
His words soured the expressions of the others in the cabin. A dwarf and a cripple welcoming them indeed felt like an insult.
However, on the other side, a woman in black robes represented the Dothraki under Mago Khal.
Her robes were voluminous, concealing her figure, and she wore a red wooden mask on her face, obscuring her features. But her eyes were bright, and she was flanked by several Dothraki guards tasked with protecting the priestess.
She glanced at the speaker, one of the three Princes of Lorath, the Prince of Plenty, and spoke calmly.
"They are indeed a dwarf and a cripple, but they are also the Emperor's personal advisor and the Master of Coin."
"Perhaps you should consider why a dwarf and a cripple can hold important positions within the Empire."
Qaithe's words caused the Prince of Plenty's face to redden rapidly, and he couldn't help but retort.
"I didn't know the Dothraki had started sending women."
The Dothraki guards at Qaithe's side, though unable to understand what was being said, could tell from the prince's expression that his words were likely unkind.
The warriors under Mago Khal flew into a rage, drawing their arakhs, while the guards of the Lorathi prince tensed, sensing an imminent brawl.
However, Qaithe restrained her Dothraki warriors, speaking a few words in their language, and they reluctantly sheathed their arakhs, shooting dangerous glares at the prince and making a throat-slitting gesture.
The Prince of Plenty's face darkened, realizing he had misspoken. These reckless Dothraki might seize any opportunity to take his head.
Moreover, he had come to King's Landing not to negotiate on behalf of Lorath but to flee with the fleet. After all, the three Princes of Lorath - of Plenty, of Fisheries, and of Streets - had gradually become figurehead, with real power resting in the hands of a council composed of nobles, priests, and merchants.
The central regions of Essos had largely fallen. The wood-walkers of the Kingdom of Ifequevron could only contend with the White Walkers in the forests, but the forests were few, and vast swathes of land had been occupied by the undead.
The once-proud Realm of Sarnor was reduced to its last remnant, Mazor Alexi and his twenty thousand men clinging to life in Saath. The Kingdom of Omber, which had annually paid tribute of grain, gems, and maidens to the Dothraki khals for protection, was on the brink of extinction. Most of its people had joined the ranks of the army of the dead, ravenously devouring the remaining lives.
The chill winds of winter had descended upon northern Essos, and the Dothraki, despite receiving Omber's 'protection money,' were struggling to fend for themselves.
Heavy snows, unseen for years, blanketed Vaes Dothrak, the sacred city of the Dothraki. The entire city of the horselords was draped in silver, and the lake known as the Womb of the World had frozen over.
The Dothraki tribes were in a state of panic, believing the gods had brought down a calamity upon them. After all, the existence of maegi had emerged within the Dothraki, and years ago, the sacred city, where no blood should be spilled, had witnessed a massacre. This was a punishment from the heavens.
A riot had erupted in Vaes Dothrak but was swiftly quelled. Then, one of the three priestesses of the tribes, Qaithe, had volunteered to journey to the west in search of answers to their predicament.
Coincidentally, the Free Cities had banded together to seek aid in King's Landing, so she had boarded their ships to join them.