Game of Thrones: King of Magic

Solomon. Braavos.

Velano Antarion, as the young man called himself, led the group to a small square where the number of people was definitely less. The buildings here were made entirely of white stone, their walls decorated with various fanciful ornaments, and there were no dirt stains at all.

The passersby were not in a hurry, unlike in the previous place. Their step was measured and their postures relaxed. Some were quietly talking to someone, some were sitting on small benches waiting for something, and some were just strolling along, enjoying the weather.

The pace of life in this square directly stated who exactly was a frequent visitor here.

The upper and middle classes.

The stratification of the population was present in Braavos, but not with such visible boundaries as it was in Pentos. There was no slavery here, and everyone could earn a living. Only the types of labor and their pay differed.

The Sea Lord, who rules Braavos itself, the magisters and the Keepers of the Keys are the highest authorities in the city. While the latter are commonplace in all Free Cities, whose duties are roughly equal, the latter are a novelty that can be considered interesting.

The Keepers of the Keys are the people in charge of the Iron Bank, the most powerful bank in the world. Its customers are both the general population and not so general. Including lords and the king himself, as Ned told me.

The "man" also shared information about it with me. According to him, the bank was founded by twenty-three men, each of whom held the key to the underground treasures. Initially, in the vaults of the bank, formerly the mines of an abandoned iron mine from the time of Valyria, some of the city's residents hid their money from thieves and pirates. Later, wealthy people began lending money from there to those that were poorer.

Currently, about a thousand citizens of Braavos - descendants of the original Keepers of the Keys - hold this honorable, though not substantially wealthy, title. They are entitled to attend the ceremonial meetings of the bank, although the possession of the keys and the right to present them has become a mere formality. The real power within the bank is held by the few truly powerful Keepers of the Keys and the heads of the richest families in Braavos, not necessarily of ancient origin.

While my thoughts were distracted from what was happening, our group entered a very well-kept tavern with three floors. The furniture inside, both tables and chairs, didn't look like they had been hastily assembled from a piece of wood and a couple nails. The decoration was all in the same style: the ornamentation of the furniture with the addition of seashells, as well as the dominant white and yellow colors.

The first floor of the tavern was dedicated to the dining area with tables and chairs, and at the far wall from the entrance there was a counter, behind which you could see the kitchen and racks with alcohol. The second floor was reserved for the rooms, from where I could see only doors and railings, and the stairs to it were adjacent to the edge of the wall to the right of the counter.

Of the three floors only the third could be emphasized. There was a separate spiral staircase to the left of the bar, and two men dressed in armor and a cloak with the shell symbol and in colors appropriate to the tavern guarded it. While the second floor only covered two of the four walls, the third floor covered all four. The entire top floor was hidden from view from below, except for a circle in the middle, made of cut colored glass and occupying two-fifths of its area.

There were few visitors present. Only three of the eight tables were occupied. And those who sat at them were talking quietly about something, gesticulating from time to time or distracted by food and drink.

What was remarkable was that the air in the room was not permeated with the odor of frying, alcohol, or food. My sense of smell picked up a freshness and a slight sweetness, as if I were not in a tavern but on a veranda by the seashore with a glass of wine in my hand.

Not bad.

Velano calmly approached the counter, where a man was standing behind it, counting something.

- Good morning, Lute.

- Oh, young master! The usual for you?

- Not this time," Velano shook his head, then nodded his head to the left, "Is he free?

- If you won't be staying until this evening, yes. Mistress has something planned for tonight, so I apologize. - The man replied and made an apologetic face.

- It's okay, I won't be long," Velano smiled, and turned in my direction, "Please follow me. We won't be disturbed there.

I nodded briefly, and we headed for the left staircase.

The guards let the three of us through with a slight bow. I gather he's the Sea Lord's son, a frequent visitor to this place, judging by their faces and the conversation with the man behind the counter.

Upon reaching the top of the stairs, I was greeted by an ornate room. The roof was made of transparent glass, allowing the sunlight to penetrate quietly. From the edges of the room to the center of the ceiling were wide silk strips of cloth, which served as curtains, should the need arise.

There was also furniture: tables, chairs, side tables, recliners, and a few beds. All of them were made in the same style as the rest of the tavern, but had more details and decorations. On the floor around the circle of glass were rugs, pillows, something resembling plaid, and things along those lines.

- It's an impressive sight, isn't it? - Velano asked as he took one of the beds, his bodyguard standing beside him with his hands behind his back.

- Indeed," I nodded and walked around, taking a closer look at my surroundings, "The man behind the counter was talking about a lady. I assume it's the owner?

Against one of the walls I saw something very remarkable: an easel, canvases, brushes and paints. It was all beautifully laid out and sorted on two racks flanked by an adult-sized window overlooking the square. The Braavos Titan, several temples, the Sea Lord's palace, and the Iron Bank were also visible from there. That is to say, the view from here was mesmerizing, showing most of the city's landmarks.

There were also paintings in the room as well. And what caught my attention was the way they smelled.....

Dragons.

I walked over to a painting that showed a girl looking at the sun in a clear sky and touched it.

A picture of a large number of dragons flying freely over tall stone spires with lights burning in them immediately popped up in front of my eyes. But I noticed an oddity - no people. And the dragons were similar to each other, differing only in color and size. It was as if the artist who painted the picture had only dreamed of its contents, but had not seen it all with his own eyes.

And it was safe to say that the painting definitely had a tiny, barely noticeable trace of mana.

How interesting.

- If you don't recognize its symbolism, I take it you're not particularly interested in the ladies of Braavos," Velano said, picking up a grape from the table. "The Pearl Artist, one of the most famous courtesans, along with the Poetess, the Moon Shadow, the Sardine Queen, and the Lady in the Veil. They are the ones for whose attention even women vie for. The best of the best, the most beautiful of the most beautiful. Those who get their attention usually die happy.

- I heard about them when I arrived in town, but I didn't pay much attention to it.

- I see, after all visiting the Black and White House is a good reason to do so. - Velano smiled, crossing his fingers in front of him.

- So you've been following me? - I asked, stepping away from the painting and taking a chair not far from the recliner.

- No," he shook his head, "You would have noticed the surveillance, given what I'd heard about you, so I trusted fate. And, as we can see, she smiled at me.

- If fate itself arranged this meeting," I smiled and sat back down, "I'd like to hear what 'opportunity' you were talking about earlier.

- Sure, sure, sure. But before I begin, I'd like to ask you to promise me that everything that happens here will remain secret.

- I promise.

- Thank you. - He nodded briefly and looked at the bodyguard. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a neatly folded and taped parchment, then held it out to me.

- What is it? - I asked with interest, looking at the object.

- I'd like to offer you a job. As I'm sure you know, the Sea Lord is chosen by ballot. My father is old and weak, so he will soon be replaced by another. The most likely winner is Tarmo Fregar. And I wouldn't care about this issue if it weren't for one "but". My younger brother, who had no interest in such things in principle, and preferred to spend his days on the training ground, suddenly became an active supporter of Tarmo.

- Suddenly?

- That's right. Three months ago, his daily routine had changed to accompanying Tarmo wherever he went. Like a dog that follows its master, to put it more directly. His interaction with my father and me had been minimized since his brother had moved from the Sea Lord's residence to Tarmo's mansion. Any attempts to talk to him yielded nothing. It was as if he had turned into a... doll.

Hmm... Sounds like he was hypnotized. Such a drastic change can't be accidental, but rather... magical.

So Velano was looking for someone with magical powers to try and make sense of the situation. A logical conclusion, given the local attitude towards magic.

- I take it you suspect magical intervention, don't you? - I asked, to which I received a short nod - But why isn't anyone else investigating it but you? Such a change is not imperceptible.

- Tarmo's support is strong. I'd even say too strong. Two of the three Magisters are willing to give him their vote, as well as more than half of the Keepers of the Keys. But they are all forced to wait for my father's death, for it is the law of Braavos. My brother's actions refer to his desire to become the First Sword of Tarmo, which is hard to believe since they have never interacted with each other.

- But why did you come to me in the first place?

- You are an outsider, an unknown. I first heard about you from the rumors from Pentos: "A certain 'Magician' helped the current magister to replace the old one by summoning from the air a spear the color of fresh blood. The Magister himself didn't deny them, but he didn't confirm them either. And all of this added embers to the flames of rumor, making you a legend of sorts. Somewhere you were a messenger of the gods, somewhere a demon with whom the Magister had made a deal, but all agreed that you were definitely not an ordinary man. Or not human at all, for that matter. Every rumor differed in some detail about you: hair color, eye shape, skin tone, name, manner of speech. But some things did match," Velano said, then pointed a finger at me, "the Cloak.

- Hmm?

- You haven't noticed? Every street has at least one person wearing a cloak like yours. And every one of them claims to be you, trying to get some kind of advantage. It was easy enough for me to recognize you as "you." Posture and gait give away a lot, you know.

Scammers impersonating me? That's... embarrassing. Are my actions impressive enough to do something like that? I don't think so. Perhaps...

- I still haven't heard an answer. - With a weary sigh, I said.

- But I did give one. You're an outsider. No one knows about you, but you don't know about anyone. Except..." He was suddenly silent, and then he shook his head at his bodyguard.

- Except for the Red Faith," he finished for Velano, and bowed to me, "Allow me to introduce myself, Mathiris Feor, priest of the Lord of Light. And it is an honor to meet you in person, Lord Solomon.

I gave a short nod of my head in response.

So it wasn't me who came to the temple, but the temple came to me, was it? That's funny.

- Mathiris has served me for ten years, and I trust him. And since he has such faith in your abilities, I see no reason to doubt it," Velano continued, and then looked at me hopefully, "Will you help me?

I wondered.

On the one hand, it would be nice to help him, since his goal was worthy. On the other hand, it was quite possible that my stay in Braavos would be delayed a bit. However...

Why not?

- All right," I nodded, to which I received a pleased smile from Velano, "But what was the scroll you gave me?

- It contains the names of the people Tarmo spends the most time with, and he himself. It also has information on where to find them.

- Got it.

- Great! - Mathiris, would you be a dear and get Lute a couple of bottles of the best wine he can find? This calls for a celebration!

- Yes," he nodded and headed for the stairs.

Well, a little relaxation wouldn't hurt.

-0-

A while later.

We finished after a couple hours. The sun was already hanging high in the sky, and there were definitely more people in the square. Our group had left the tavern and were preparing to disperse.

- Thank you for agreeing to this, Solomon, I really appreciate it. If this works out, I'm willing to fulfill any request you may have. And not just me, but father as well. See you later. - Velano said goodbye, and Mathiris bowed, and then the two of them disappeared down one of the streets, leaving me at the door.

I stood for a while, then walked into the nearest alley and waited. After a few counted seconds, a presence appeared behind me.

- I thank you for the escort, but it is not necessary. May I ask you to tell the "man" what I said? - Without turning around, I asked.

There was no response, and a few seconds later, the presence disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. I took a deep breath and looked up at the sky.

I think it's time to visit R'Glor's temple. Hearing the news from Winterfell would be good.

And with those thoughts, I headed for the Isle of the Gods.

I wonder how the Starks are doing.

-0-

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