'Why do you wish to learn to fight?'

Once upon a time there was a 'baby', born in a former slave ship captured a year earlier by a small force of the Iron Fleet. The captain of the flagship took all the slave women of that ship as 'his salt wives'.

The captain was the father of that 'infant'.

The iron men were unhappy with the booty of only slaves collected and the scarcity of riches found. The captain decided to sell those slaves in the free city of Volantis. A strange, hooded merchant offered 10 gold for every child no older than two years. The captain accepted without thinking and sold all the children he had, and that 'infant' (his son).

The merchant was a sorcerer from Qohor...

Shortly afterwards, a group of priests and sorcerers from Asshai and the free city of Qohor collaborated to perform an ancient and powerful blood magic. For every child on the altar, 10 had to be sacrificed for the magic ritual to take place.

The chosen child had to have a strong constitution to have a real chance of survival. Next to the child, a creature from the lands of Sothoryos was placed. The enchanters wanted to see if it was possible for humans to acquire traits unique to the creatures themselves through these rituals.

Magic was thinning in the known world... there was not enough power for that kind of arcane experiment.

All rituals failed except one... the ritual of that 'newborn'.

The 'infant' came out of that ritual in critical condition and permanently damaged. The rare type of Sothoryos Eagle burned in the flames and turned to ash.

Since most spellcasters considered yet another ritual a 'failure' they decided to put an end to the suffering abomination. A priestess of Asshai named Melisandre objected; she had seen a message in the flames.

The woman took the 'infant' and left it in the middle of the street, of the city of Volantis, which her lord had indicated.

A few minutes later, a famous lanista from Meereen and his procession passed through that street. The handmaiden of the Wise Master's wife asked permission to receive the wounded 'infant'. It was granted. The handmaiden was the wife of the lanista's 'Champion Gladiator'.

Years later...

A 'child', with a very fragile constitution, watched with a smile of serenity on his face, his father.

The man was training diligently. The 'child' was joyfully studying every moment, every gesture and every detail of the man's fluid and precise movements. He felt a sense of peace, accomplishment, admiration and a slight sense of envy. He knew it would be impossible for him to fight ... but he watched anyway and watched with joy. The 'child' had a unique ability that only the 'Great Future Champion' knew.

The eyes...those eyes could observe details and inaccuracies that no one else could perceive. Beyond that the 'child' remembered EVERYTHING he saw. Like a sequence of detailed paintings that he could flip through whenever he wanted to. He would gladly help his father with his training. He warned him (secretly) where and when the movements were wrong. He could spend whole hours observing without suffering from hunger, thirst or sleep. The sensation of peace he felt from observing was unique....

Shortly afterwards a rival Wise Master, fearing that at the next competition his champion would be defeated by the 'Great Champion', ordered a late night attack on the lanista's house. Many perished that night, including the lanista and the adoptive parents of the 'child'...

The 'Grand Champion' managed to get the 'child' and his mistress (wife of the lanista) to safety, before perishing surrounded by enemies.

Years later...

A 'boy' left a note near a door of a villa in the town of Pentos.

The note read:

"I'm leaving in the hope of finding that peace. Thanks for everything."

"P.s. I took 7 silver coins from the drawer."

Years later...

'A young man' was advising and explaining movements to a group of people who had chosen to follow him.

He had not been the one to ask for it. He had no interest in gold, fame or power, he liked to observe and seek that feeling of peace.

Every time he met someone, training or fighting, and stayed to observe, the sense of peace returned.

Over time it became more and more difficult to find that 'peace'.

He had not yet found anyone who gave him the sense of harmony and tranquillity that he felt when he observed his father... but he was not discouraged and continued his search.

If they asked him for advice, he gave it. If they asked him for help, he gave it. Soon a group of 'students' formed. When they asked him if he could teach them how to fight, he just asked: "Why do you wish to learn how to fight?" based on the answer he could get an idea of how much potential the person had and how much 'peace' he could bring them. Some answered "I have to avenge my family", some "I want to be remembered and feared", others "I want to open a weapons school". The 'young man' did not refuse anyone. He only had one condition. When he realised that the potential was exhausted, he would stop giving advice and if he left to seek 'peace' elsewhere, anyone could follow him or go their own way, he did not care.

Soon he was nicknamed 'the Watcher'. Some of those pupils began to form a secret organisation to protect and safeguard 'the Watcher' (not that he asked for it). Many owed him everything they had achieved and would repay the debt, even if 'the Watcher' did not ask for it.

Years later...

'the Watcher' found himself talking to the leader of a sect called the 'House of Black and White'. He had praised him for being able to notice 'a man' and that he had not come to bestow a 'gift'. He wanted to ask him a favour...if the 'House of Black and White' could send aspiring 'faceless men' to face a test. It consisted of trying not to be noticed by the 'Watcher' and touching him. He did not refuse and asked for nothing in return. This collaboration lasted for twenty years until an 'aspirant', frustrated by failure, tried in vain to attack the 'Observer'.

The secret organisation (which very few people knew about) took the body of the poor 'aspirant', who had not understood the true purpose of the test, back to the 'House of Black and White'*.

*Author's note: [The test was to fail and return to the House knowing that 'faceless men', however trained and with unique abilities, are not infallible].

The 'House of Black and White' apologised, broke off the collaboration and offered in return for services, the promise that the 'faceless men' would never try to give the 'gift' to the 'Watcher' (not that he had requested it).

A short time later the whisper of a certain 'Watcher' reached the ears of the 'Iron Bank'. A delegate of the bank reached The House of Black and White' asking for the 'price'* of this 'Watcher', who, if the rumours were true, produced individuals of astonishing abilities.

Author's Note: [The Iron Bank also asks for the 'price' of a certain individual to quantify the level of threat or utility an individual generates. Es King Robert= 3,000,000 G.D.]

The answer was: 'An institution should not ask. An institution should not look for problems if it does not want problems to come to it." The delegate left quietly without complaint.

The Iron Bank assembled a council of officials that day and they discussed at length. Some proposed a possible future possibility of profit... but a certain 'organisation' and a certain 'someone' did not care.

POV Tom (Helman Tallarth's right-hand man);

This was the fifth month in a row that Tom and his men had been searching for the ghost called the 'Watcher'.

Not only had Tom paid and indebted the House that serves 10,000 G.D. more than he should have, for an empty piece of information, to the 'Iron Bank', but all the leads he found were total holes in the water.

First he had gone to Volantis, then to Tyrosh, and now he was back in the goddamn city of Braavos!!!

He had only two confirmed pieces of information: 'The Watcher is the best and that he was not to look for trouble with 'the Watcher'.'

Another whisper, paid bags of gold, brought him back to his point of origin.

Back in the city he found lodging in an inn, for him and his men.

That night he awoke suddenly to a man, dressed in black with his face covered by a hood, who had pinned both his arms down and was holding a blade to his throat...

"Why are you looking for 'the Watcher!'? "said a cold and irritated one.

'I have no chance to react...' Tom thought instantly.

"...To ask him for help in training our lord." Tom.

"Is that all?" the individual.

"Yes that is all I swear on my honour." Tom.

"I have no use for your honour. You're lucky your men gave the same answer!" 'SDUGH!'...Tom lost consciousness.

Fifteen men in an inn suddenly woke up and passed out a minute later that night, one after the other.

A message with an address was found by visibly shaken and bruised northern men the next morning.

Around noon that same morning, at a villa in Braavos...

"Please come in, Tom. Would you like something to drink or eat? Are you sure you don't have any titles? Ser or...?" A thin man in his fifties asked.

"No no thank you, just Tom please...I am just a soldier in the service of Ser Helman Tallhart Master of Torrhen's Square." Tom replied quickly, he was very uncomfortable and worried.

"I'm not sure how I should address you, I don't know if I should call you..."

"Ah how careless of me, yes many people call me 'the Watcher', not that I mind, but if you like you can call me Zick or Master Zick if you are more comfortable with the formalities." Said Zick.

"Yes thank you, emm Master Zick if you don't mind me asking...yes in short why wasn't I searched or did anyone request my weapons?" Tom.

"Ahahah a sympathetic question. I apologize again for what happened last night and for not granting you an audience sooner...yes well my fellow travellers have strange habits. I don't command them anything, I swear, but I don't stop them from acting as they see fit either. For example, we could have had this conversation in Volantis or Tyrosh, but they insisted..." he continued, "As for your question, well, because I don't sense any hostility on your part, just a great deal of unease, anxiety, disbelief and expectation. Yes, I would say for that reason." Said Zick.

"....cough cough....I understand.....master Zick I would like to ask you if I may. No I beg your pardon! My master wishes to request..." he was interrupted.

"Ah yes that child Tallhart, yes all right I will go north with you Tom. In fact I have never been there. I'll see what I can do with that boy, but I warn you I have some personal conditions I would like House Tallhart to respect." Zick.

"Ah! We are grateful and honoured that you have accepted!...You will of course be our honoured guest for as long as you wish and for the fee...well yes excuse me, what is your honorarium for your services?" Tom asked concerned and stunned by the bizarre conversation.

"Nothing for that, there is no need to pay Tom. I do it for passion and personal pleasure. No the conditions are: that my travelling companions can come with us and receive the same hospitality extended to me, that I can instruct the boy as I see fit and that we can leave freely when we please. If you can meet these 3 conditions Tom we can also leave right away, in about...one moment please...Will?" a blink later.

"Yes Master Zick, we have 3 ships ready to go at any time sir! A priest from R'hollor has assured us that we will not encounter any storms on the journey. Furthermore our scouts guarantee that the plotted course will encounter as little pirate activity as possible." Tom was frozen-'Who was this man? And what kind of organization is behind him!!!' were questions he had repeated to himself for hundreds of times within himself.

"Well...Yes! House Tallarth has no objection and thanks you Master Zick." Tom.

"Well then we're off Tom!" he said enthusiastically smiling.

END POV.

POV Duncan;

Some 40 days after a bizarre conversation....

"So Ser Qyburn, where are we with the projects I requested of you?" I asked my ally.

"The first project is concluded my lord, the second, as much as it intrigues and stimulates me more and more, will still take some time, but I guarantee it will be completed within the timeframe." Qyburn replied calmly and composedly.

"Well thank you again, I am well aware of how arduous and extravagant my request was. Tell me if there is anything I can reward you with for your efforts." I said.

"New 'subjects' for my research if possible my lord, your father has already funded my research sufficiently." Qyburn.

"I will see what can be done, after all some of those bandits, who exterminated the village a few months ago, should still be hiding in these lands." I thought remembering to mark this problem in my diary.

"My father?" I asked.

"The lord has taken your 'visions of a possible great war' seriously, he is already preemptively recalling villagers and peasants to begin compulsory military training. " I nodded quite satisfied.

Knock Knock...

"Yes?" It was strange...usually the guard announced the reason for the interruption.

The door opened and a very, very familiar man walked in with a big smile on his face.

"TOM!!! "' I shouted as I stood up to meet my 'second father'.

The man reached down to hug me, which I did with all my heart.

"My young lord, I apologise for the long wait." Said Tom slightly excitedly.

"Where the hell have you been venturing all this time! DAMN YOU!!!" I shouted in both joy and anger.

"In due course my young lord, there is someone you should meet first. I recommend that you pay the utmost respect and honours...he will be your master of arms from here until the guest remains." Tom said in a serious voice, staring intently into my eyes to confirm if I 'got the message'. I nodded in curiosity.

Two individuals, a man and a woman, entered the room and looked around for threats, before stepping aside.

"BOTH OF THEM ARE 'LEVEL 9!!!' I shrieked inwardly before the real cannonball arrived.

I sensed danger from every pore of my skin as I looked at those two individuals, I assure you the little number above their heads was unnecessary. And then he walked in...

A man with slightly tanned skin, in his fifties, grey hair and beard, not very tall and wearing ordinary merchant's clothes stepped forward and stared at me.

' No way! What the hell is going on!!! This doesn't make any sense!!!' A sense of extreme confusion overwhelmed me at the contradictory message I was receiving.

On the surface and from what I could perceive, the man was even more physically helpless than Qyburn himself! I felt no sense of oppression or threat from the man and yet....a big, bright '13' hovered above his head!!! And it wasn't the most shocking thing....his eyes, those eyes were scrutinising and analysing every millimetre of my body. I felt naked and helpless!!! I couldn't hide anything! AND I MEAN NOTHING! FROM THAT MAN!!!

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Young Lord Duncan of House Tallhart. If I may ask, 'Why do you wish to learn to fight? '...."

.... almost a minute in silence...

"Beca...because...BECAUSE I WANT TO TRY TO MAKE THIS WORLD A BETTER WORLD!!!"...