Last True Remnant of Old Valyria

As the sun began to set, we arrived at Valysar. I ensured that no one could spot Anarion before instructing him to descend. Afterwards, I suggested he rest and hunt if he felt hungry, although he shouldn't have been, given the number of fish he consumed during our journey. He growled, almost as if he took offense at my thoughts. Glutton. It appears I must start walking soon, or I won't make it in time for supper at the inns.

***

After a while, as I approached the town gates, I was confronted by soldiers attempting to halt my passage. However, a few gold coins quickly resolved the issue. They appeared unfamiliar with Valyrian currency, but after a careful inspection of the coins, they granted me entry.

I wandered through the town, and it appears that Valysar primarily trades in timber, evident by every fourth stall displaying it. While exploring the market, I noticed merchants packing up their belongings and starting to leave as darkness began to set in.

Upon entering the inner circle of the market, it appears that only high-end goods are on sale. The vendors at the stalls have a noble air, and the quality of wood here surpasses that which I observed earlier. At one stall, a merchant dressed in costly attire has an item that has captured my attention.

I had to double-check what I was seeing before approaching the stall. As I approached, I inquired with the merchant about the goods that had caught my eye. After scrutinizing my appearance and face, he responded in High Valyrian as well.

"You certainly have an eye for expensive goods, my lord. This is a small box crafted from Weirwood, found only in the far north of Westeros. It's a rare and costly wood, revered by the northerners who pray to it."

It appears he is fluent in High Valyrian. I naturally speak High Valyrian because the previous owner of this body. Before conversing with the guards, whom I noticed spoke in Low Valyrian. It's not that I don't comprehend Low Valyrian—it's simply a diluted form of High Valyrian—but I'm not as fluent in it as I am in High Valyrian. Therefore, I prefer to speak in High Valyrian.

"Where did you find it, if you don't mind me asking, and what is the price?" I inquired. As he handed me the box, I began to inspect it. It bore a faint trace of magic, which alone confirmed its authenticity.

"No, not at all. I've just come from Pentos, where I acquired it. It's a mere 40 gold coins," replied the merchant.

For a mere 40 gold coins, he says, it could sustain families for years. However, I have no time to spare, as I plan to purchase spices from the market before the stalls close. I feel my body reaching its limit; I need food quickly. I pull out my pouch and hand him the gold coins. After inspecting and verifying their authenticity, he hands me the box with a contented smile.

"Have a good day, my lord," said the merchant, joy evident in his tone. With that, I began walking towards a stall that sells spices. I intend to put some into a pouch to see how long they last before going bad, to get an idea of when to purchase them again.

****

After finishing my purchases, I walked towards the inn I had noticed earlier. Once inside and having ordered my meal, I began to overhear various conversations from the surrounding tables. Inns and pleasure houses served as the social media of medieval times, offering a place to acquire news or rumors about events in the outside world.

As my food arrived, I began to grasp the timeline I had landed in. From a nearby conversation, they spoke of a war where Volantis was defeated and the Triarchy had triumphed. Others discussed the Great Council and the injustices faced by Saera Targaryen's bastards. Thus, I deduced that if the Great Council has concluded, then Viserys must now be the King of either the Seven Kingdoms or Six, depending on whom you ask.

After consuming an ample amount of food sufficient for two grown men and inquiring with the inn owner about a bath, I proceeded to the room I had rented for the night. Shortly after, some attendants arrived, bringing with them a large tub. I realized I would have to adapt to this, as it was the best this world had to offer at the moment. Following my bath, amidst the giggles of the ladies, I couldn't help but enjoy their astonished expressions as I removed my trousers. 

After bathing, I lay down on the bed and began to drift into the realm of Morpheus.

****

Upon waking, I feel rejuvenated and prepared to tackle any challenge the world may present. Ah, a single night's sleep works wonders after a lengthy journey. When I requested another bath, they gazed at me as if I were an exotic creature. It seems that here, prioritizing hygiene earns you peculiar looks from others. After finishing my bath, checking my belongings, and settling my dues with the innkeeper, I tossed a few silver coins to the ladies. Then, I stepped out of the inn and began my walk toward the city gates.

This time, I've decided not to walk. Finding horses near the city gate was easy, and after offering a bit more, they were willing to sell them. Horse riding is familiar to me, just as it was in my previous world. I enjoy it and have ridden a horse many times before. Once outside the city, I began riding my horse towards the place where I had parted ways with Anarion.

After tying my horse to a nearby tree, I closed my eyes and began to focus on my bond with Anarion. A minute or two later, the wind picked up, and I opened my eyes. There he was, looking even more majestic in the sunlight. After landing and receiving some pets for his silence, he started to eye the horse I had brought with me. Minutes later, the horse was out of sight, and we ascended into the sky once again.

I'm not as familiar with Essos as I am with Westeros. However, after inquiring last night about Braavos and the way there, I received sufficient information to determine my route. I could travel via the Stepstones, but it would be a lengthy journey, and I would need to pass through Dragonstone or the Crownlands. Therefore, I've decided to head towards Braavos, then through the Fingers of the Vale, and onwards to the North.

I could head straight to White Harbor, but I don't want Anarion to become overly tired. Moreover, I'm unsure of the time it would take to travel to Braavos, then cross the sea and land in Westeros. That's why I've decided that The Fingers will be our next stop.

I began my journey along the River Rhoyne, knowing it would lead me to Braavos, and I was eager to lay eyes on Chroyane. The wind caressed my face as Anarion hastened his stride. I contemplated regular flights high into the air for him, as the cold winds of the North and the thin atmosphere above could enhance his stamina and speed. Yet, that's a plan for another time. For now, I simply wish to savor the wind and the fresh air.

Give me the powe stones. If you like the chapter. And leave a comment if you could.