#asoia

Baring his teeth, he rocks forward; anything to ease the torture.

Lord of Light.

He glares at the simple candle he had lit, the shadows formed and flickered on the walls of his temporary room. Willing his shadows to snuff it out, they wiggled and quaked; unable to go against the light. A bead of sweat trailing down his temple, Inniros huffs. If any of his cohorts from the Golden Company saw him now, they wouldn’t believe him to be the same person. Like a god among them, Inniros had gained fame and rank in what seemed like over night. Of course they wouldn’t know his one weakness.

R’hllor.

For the longest time Inniros had vehemently denied the connection of his ability with that of the fiery faith.

Despite his master insisting that he must respect the duality of the relationship. It was so easy to get drunk on the power of shadow binding.

Now it was clear though.

Inniros catches his reflection in the mirror, as dim as it was. One lone blue eye glaring back at him. An eye that painfully reminded him of his mother. At least the thought of her dulled the pain he was feeling.

What would she think of him now? A killer for hire. Delving deeper and deeper into his shadow art.

Fingers limp on his back, he remembers how tenderly his mother took care of him when he got hurt. Everything else about Asshai may have been tough but not her. She had never belonged there.

“Don’t cry.”

“I miss my mom.” Little Inniros pathetically wipes at his overflowing eyes. “I want my mom.”

“She’s beyond you now, boy.” His Master was always quick to scold. Burly and wearing a mask like many did in Asshai, he would pick up Inniros by the back of his shirt and pull him off his feet. “Unless you want me to throw you in the grave with her.”

What else was a little boy to do but suck up his tears and bury his sadness. Shadows replaced all sorrow. They ate away any emotion until he was a shell.

It was all worth it.

Testing his back, Inniros picks up his dragonglass blade.

There was no resting until the girl was dead.

** “Darkin? Be serious (y/n).” Jaime scoffs, relaxing in his hammock. He was keeping you company in the small cabin below as you were prone to serious sea sickness. It wouldn’t be long until you reached Volantis.

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to keep the nausea at bay, you place a hand over your mouth. “I am being serious, Jaime. Sirvart was with me. She saw him too. They aren’t just stories. What, dragons are easy to believe but not darkin?”

“The documentation of dragons is a well studied one. There’s the bones in King’s Landing. There’s proof. Darkin? Just tales that mom used to tell us.”

“You shouldn’t be so quick to reject their existence.” Alizah pipes in. She sat perfectly still on the floor next to you. Her eyes filled with stars staring at nothing in particular. “If you’re this credulous, then you might have a hard time when we reach Volantis.”

Shifting, Jaime narrows his eyes at the blind priestess. “What do you mean? Does this have to do with Thalina?”

Alizah nods. “Of course. She set the stage for everything.”

Leaning closer, Jaime persists. “So? What’s the big secret? Why is it so important for (y/n) to go to the Red Temple in Volantis?”

This makes her laugh. “This one asks a lot of questions!”

You smile, teasing your brother as well. “He sure does.”

Laughter dies as Alizah sighs. It was so eery how her eyes seemed to be looking at you despite her not possessing sight. “What did Thalina tell you of R’hllor?”

“Just an outline. . . Azor Ahai, the Long Night. . . She didn’t really get into details. We had just started discussing it before- well before everything went down.” You didn’t want to think of Thalina’s death. It still made you sad thinking of how she died. Thalina didn’t deserve any of it. At a time when you didn’t have any friends, she had been your constant companion.

“We believe that one day Azor Ahai will come back to us in the form of another.” You heard Jaime scoff again but you chose to ignore it. “There will come a day after a long summer when the stars bleed and the cold breath of darkness falls heavy on the world. A warrior shall draw from the fire a burning sword. And that sword shall be Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes and he who clasps it shall be Azor Ahai come again, and the darkness shall flee before them.”

“That’s a lovely story.” Practically hearing Jaime’s eyes roll in his statement.

“Jaime. Don’t be rude.”

“What does this story have anything to do with my sister? Or are you all just a bunch of religious freaks trying to convert us?”

Groaning you knew there was no stopping Jaime’s mouth. When he disagreed with something he always voiced it. There was no muzzling him.

None of this bothered Alizah though as she continued to smile. “A prophecy was foreseen long ago. One that pertained to when Azor Ahai reborn would come back. Those of us who are lucky enough can read flames. These flames can make predictions as well. Thalina was just beginning to show promise when she had a vision. Of you. A little mouse stuck in a den of lions.”

You remembered back in King’s Landing. Moments when you would be mesmerized by the flames in your fireplace. How they danced in such a way that could be mistaken for an image. And your dreams. . . The dreams you had had in your poison induced sleep.

“(y/n), Thalina believed you to be Azor Ahai reborn.”

Deathly silent.

Until Jaime jumped out of his hammock, anger bright in his wildfire eyes. “That’s it?! That’s why we left Westeros because some crazy girl thought she saw my sister in a fire? We came out here for nothing!”

“Ja-”

“No (y/n).” He snapped and you knew best to let him vent. Jaime glared at Alizah. “You’re all crazy.”

“And why do you think that?” Alizah hummed, unphased by his outburst. She’s picking at the hem of her sleeve. “You sound scared.”

That made him bare his teeth. “I fear nothing. Look at her! Does she look like a prophet to you?”

Maybe you should have been offended. You saw where your brother was coming from though. You could use a sword but not very well; still possessing baby fat in your cheeks and an unintimidating atmosphere around you.

“You’re right.” Alizah flicks her eyes to you. “She doesn’t look like a prophet. She looks like a hero.”

He throws his hands up. “That’s it. (y/n), we’re getting off of this fucking boat.”

“I can hear you yelling all the way up deck.” Comes Sirvart’s grumble. “What’s going on down there?”

“Tell the captain to dock immediately. We’re getting out of here and going back to Westeros!”

Ducking her head inside, Sirvart’s eyes challenge your brother. “Westeros? You won’t even make it to Westeros with that darkin after (y/n). Even if you did what makes you think Westeros would be best for her? People obviously want her dead over there. Do you really want to take her back to that environment just because you have faith in nothing.” Sirvart easily blocks the way out with her lethal body. “You made a promise to Thalina. Regardless if you believe any of this. Or are you going back on that vow too? Yes, we know of your relationship with your twin sister. Alizah reads the flames as easily as one would read a book. Will you forsake (y/n) again in favor of Cersei?”

You meet Jaime’s conflicted eyes. In there was the longing to go back. To go back to Cersei. Clashing against his desire to keep you safe and do right by you. Sirvart took the silence as her answer. Craning her head up, she sighs. “We’re almost there. Go ahead and don’t believe us. Know that we only want to keep (y/n) safe. That has always been our goal.” Creaking back up the wooden steps, she leaves the three of you in a heavy quiet.

Everything sounded insane, too wild to believe. You were supposed to be some sort of warrior reborn. That was the last thing you would ever call yourself.

With a lowered voice, Alizah says “The darkin is the least of our worries. One day you’ll return to Westeros. When you do you’ll have to face the real threat. You may not be a warrior yet, but give it time.”

Your head spun and not due to the slight rocking of the boat. It was a lot to take in and so many things were starting to connect. This couldn’t just be a coincidence that your dreams and experiences seemed to match with what Alizah had said.

Jaime flops onto the floor, head in his hands. “This is crazy. Absolutely crazy.”

Tenderness makes Alizah’s face look sad. “Yes it is. But that’s life. Crazy and unbelievable at times.”

Curling into yourself, you close your eyes and try not to think of the mayhem that was to me when you reached Volantis. You had been so excited about reaching the end of your journey. Now though? There was suddenly a high expectation thrust upon you. One that you couldn’t possibly live up to.

Now you actually wanted to go back to Westeros. To show Rhaegar that you still lived and still loved him. He never expected anything from you. He just wanted you to be happy.

You didn’t want to be a prophet, or a hero, or Azor Ahai.

You just wanted to go home.

“Port up ahead!” The captain’s booming voice traveled easily down below.

This was it.

Alizah perked up, excited to be back home. How long had she been waiting in Volon Therys for you? The journey through out Essos had taken you about a year. To be away from your home for so long must have been hard.

Heading up to the deck you felt immense trepidation. Had this really been a mistake?

Covering your eyes from the sun you look out to the city of Volantis, ancient yet still standing like a giant.

Then you heard it. The cheers coming from the dock. No one could mistake it for anything else.

A large group of people stood waiting. Cheering, for you. They cried out your name. Filling the sunny sky with only your name as your boat drew closer. Men and women crowded one another at a chance to catch a glimpse of you. You and Jaime share a glance of utter astonishment while Alizah clapped her hands together and said something in a language you didn’t know.

“They come for you.” Sirvart’s smile is wide, finding entertainment in your large, gawking eyes. “You are who we have been waiting for, for thousands of years. Our champion, our Azor Ahai reborn.”

In Jaime’s eyes, you saw it. The realization of what all this meant. The truth in it all. Someone he had always seen as a little sister. A foolish, naive, girl. . . She was indeed seen as a savior to many. She was someone. Important and immediately adored.

They cried out in Valyrian, a chanting choir; a hymn that they happened to know by heart.

“Hen se perzyssy.” From the fires she has risen.

“Se egros mazemilzi.” The sword she will claim.

“Ilva kosh bona R’hllor eza kivio.” Our princess that was promised.

“Azor Ahai sigligon.”