NOVEL NEXT Chapter 25: Chapter 25: The White City
In the years following the pact between the First Men and the Children of the Forest, skinchangers were not seen as heretics or monsters but were revered as prophets and priests. However, 4,000 years later, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Andals invaded. Armed with steel weapons and a devout belief in the Seven, they crossed the sea and launched their conquest.
This raises an unavoidable critique: for 4,000 years after developing a Bronze Age civilization, instead of advancing magic or technology, their society stagnated.
How did they fail to transition from a mature Bronze Age to an Iron Age civilization over four millennia? Truly pathetic.
It's no wonder the Seven Kingdoms were easily overrun, with six out of seven falling swiftly (though most surrendered, switched allegiance, or intermarried with the Andals). Only the North managed to preserve the First Men's legacy, thanks to the natural barrier of the Neck.
The Neck, much like the "Shu Path" of Earth's history, was nearly impassable—a narrow passage where one person could hold off a thousand. Unlike Shu Path, however, there was no "backdoor route" like the Chen Cang Trail (though sea routes did exist).
How difficult was it to traverse the Neck?
During the "War of the Five Kings," a demoralized Ironborn force of just 63 archers held off a Northern army of 10,000 for three years!
At the time of the Andal invasion, House Stark did not yet dominate the North. Several powerful houses, such as the flaying-loving Boltons, were formidable competitors.
Despite their notorious cruelty, exemplified by Ramsay Snow and Roose Bolton, the Boltons were as powerful as the Starks. Many Stark lords met grisly ends at their hands—flayed and their skins turned into cloaks.
Now, back to the story:
In unifying the North, the Starks gradually distanced themselves from the First Men. Though they claimed to be the First Men's descendants and maintained faith in the Old Gods, they were no longer pure First Men.
The last recorded skinchanger king, the Lord of Sea Dragon Point, was known as the "Wolf King" and a staunch ally of the Children of the Forest.
But the Starks killed him, his son, his beast companions, and the greenseers who served him, leaving only his daughters alive as spoils of war.
Would true First Men slaughter greenseers? Had they forgotten the sacred pact made on the Isle of Faces with the Children of the Forest?
Today, only the wildlings beyond the Wall and the crannogmen of the Neck retain their veneration of greenseers. The Starks, like many other southern houses, merely possess some First Men blood.
Houses like the Lannisters of Casterly Rock, the Gardeners of Highgarden, and the Durrandons of Storm's End (before the Baratheons inherited it post-Targaryen conquest) were all descended from the First Men. These families, too, once revered the Old Gods, and skinchangers were not seen as monsters.
But after the Andals successfully invaded, their faith in the Seven eclipsed the Old Gods. Ironically, the Seven never actually manifested, unlike the Old Gods.
In the South, sacred godswoods became nothing more than gardens for ladies and children to play in. Skinchangers and greenseers were demonized, equated with White Walkers, and treated as creatures to be hunted and destroyed.
Anyone discovered communicating with animals south of the Wall was executed on the spot.
Over thousands of years, legends of skinchangers faded into mere fairytales. By Eddard Stark's time, the idea of wolf-bonding was laughable, and anyone claiming such abilities would be ridiculed.
As a result, Jon, Arya, Bran, and even Robb struggled with their identities as wolf spirits. Instead of embracing their gifts, they repressed and feared them.
Daenerys Targaryen's "Mother of Dragons" ability was no less exceptional than that of a greenseer. While greenseers were said to occur in one out of a million births, during the height of the Old Gods' influence, there were at least one or two per generation. By contrast, Daenerys might have been the only "Mother of Dragons" in Valyria's 5,000-year history—a true genetic anomaly.
In the original storyline, Daenerys resisted her connection to her dragons, much like Jon resisted his warging.
She longed to bond with her dragons, but her companions and followers feared them. She wished to hunt freely with them, yet her responsibilities prevented her. Worried they might harm innocents, she locked them away despite their anguished cries. She even wanted to escape by flying off with her dragons but was tethered by her sense of duty.
At one point, she completely lost her dragon dreams, severing nearly all contact with her dragons. Only Drogon still sensed her peril.
That Daenerys was a kind queen but a failure as a Mother of Dragons. She fixated on her royal identity and neglected her true calling.
This Daenerys is different. With no one to guide her, she experiments with her abilities and develops her talents in her own way.
Her efforts have paid off. As Drogon soared through the skies, Daenerys tapped into their soul connection through her dragon dreams, gaining access to his vision mid-flight.
The wolf-spirit bond allows one to experience an animal's five senses and even temporarily inhabit the wolf's body—not controlling its actions, but rather becoming the wolf itself. This is more akin to possession than mere control.
Daenerys, however, is considered only a "lesser dragon-spirit" because her connection to her dragons is far weaker than the wolf-spirits' bond with their animal companions. She can merely receive sensory information from Drogon, her black dragon. She cannot control her dragons' actions, let alone fully become one with them.
Moreover, unlike a true skinchanger who can bond with animals of different species, Daenerys cannot establish a stable dragon-dream connection with her other two dragons, Viserion and Rhaegal. It isn't that they reject her; rather, it feels as though her "skill slot" is occupied by Drogon. As her bond with him deepens, her connection with the other two diminishes.
—This limitation is not unique to her. Wolf-spirits, too, are restricted by their innate abilities. Some can only control a single, submissive animal like a dog, while those with greater talent, like Varamyr Sixskins, can command six animals and earn fearsome titles such as "the Six-Skinned."
Ser Jorah Mormont once explained to Daenerys that each dragon has only one master, and no one else can ride it while the current rider lives. While others can accompany the dragon's rider as passengers, a bonded Targaryen cannot claim another dragon during their lifetime.
"Wait—what was that?" Daenerys suddenly snapped out of her thoughts.
Moments ago, through Drogon's eyes, she had caught a fleeting, extraordinary sight. Drogon's vision was remarkable—he could see tens of kilometers away from his high vantage point, thousands of meters in the sky. Though not always perfectly clear or long-lasting, the stark monotony of the red wasteland below made anything unusual stand out.
Until now, Daenerys had only glimpsed the blue sky, the red comet, and the uneven expanse of crimson plains through Drogon's eyes.
Then, for an instant as Drogon shifted his flight path, she saw something different—something white, breaking the uniform redness of the ground.
Could it be a city? A stretch of pale rock formations?
"Drogon, stop wandering! Help me find that white spot again—it looked like a city," she urged silently, her thoughts filled with urgency.
According to Dothraki tradition, animals should not be given names. But Daenerys never thought of her dragons as mere animals. They were legendary beings, as worthy of names as any human.
So, she had named them long ago.
Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal.
Yet privately, she often called them by simpler nicknames: "Big Black," "Little White," and "Little Green."
Drogon's official name, however, hardly suited his hellish, black-and-red armored scales. A name like "Deathwing" would better capture his fearsome presence.
Still, Daenerys refrained from such an ominous name. She didn't want to jinx her dragon's fate. When Drogon became invincible, she imagined him proclaiming with a sulfurous roar:
"I am Deathwing, the Harbinger of Doom, the End of All Things. I am the Cataclysm!"
Yes, that would be spectacular.
Her other two dragons, however, had more subdued appearances. Rhaegal, the green dragon, gleamed like the finest emerald, exuding vitality with his vibrant green scales.
Viserion, the white dragon, was primarily a warm ivory hue, with bone-like ridges tracing his body in shimmering platinum. He radiated a sacred, almost divine aura.
When asked by others, Daenerys would downplay their fierce natures, offering benign explanations: Drogon's shimmering black scales earned him the name "Black Diamond," while Rhaegal and Viserion were named "Emerald" and "White Jade" respectively.
These names evoked the beauty of precious gemstones, harmless and appealing, masking the fact that her dragons were the most fearsome creatures in the world.
"Hissss—" The black dragon finally spotted the patch of white that Daenerys had been looking for, a mirror-like flash of white light.
The dragon's eyes narrowed as it focused on the white gleam on the dark red earth, which grew larger by the moment.
"That really is a city!" Daenerys exclaimed with joy.
It was approximately 30 kilometers southwest of Karhold, just beyond the reach of her water-gathering cavalry's patrol.
"That was close," she said, patting her chest in relief.
Being still a young dragon, Drogon couldn't maintain his focus for long. He flapped his wings and swooped back to land in the saddle behind Daenerys.
She immediately sought out Jorah to share the news.
The knight's face showed both surprise at the appearance of the city and awe at the dragon's vision, as well as Daenerys's ability to share in it.
"Your Highness, I've never heard of a city in the Red Wastes, nor do I know of any human settlements in this cursed land that even demons avoid," he said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
But Daenerys thought back to the dry riverbed they had encountered earlier and replied, "Perhaps it's a civilization lost to the ages. The distance is too far, and the dragon couldn't make out the details. All I know is that the city is very large—definitely not a village. You and I both know that the Red Wastes cannot support such a city today."
"A ruined city?" Jorah nodded slowly, considering. "Let's send the scouts to check it out. At least we could take refuge there from the sun."
30 kilometers was only a couple of hours of riding. By midday, Ago returned with two other warriors.
"Khaleesi, you weren't mistaken. It is indeed a stone city, entirely white. But there are no residents. The gates are broken, and the houses have collapsed. Only the wind and flies move through the streets. It's a dead city—its name is unknown, and it has no gods watching over it. We should avoid it."
"Why?" Daenerys asked, puzzled. "There's no one there. We can take it for ourselves. If there were people, I'd be more concerned about how they'd view the Dothraki."
Jiki spoke with a tremor in his voice, "When the gods leave, evil spirits roam at night to hunt. This kind of place is best avoided. Everyone knows that."
"Everyone knows," Ili added in agreement.
(End of chapter)
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