Well, back again! Managed to get this one in…four weeks, I think? I've been trying to squeeze in writing at least 5k words a week, or 1k a day during the weekdays (when I have the most time for writing funnily enough). Hoping that this pace is, well, slow enough so that I can keep regular updates coming at least once a month or so.

Want to say a huge thank you to everyone who reviewed, alerted or added this story to your favorites. I really appreciate it. I did get a question (I get a lot of these) if I will be including lemons/smut scenes in this story. I will say that, given my own preference for writing and FFnet's rules regarding such things (even if they aren't really enforced) there will not be any explicit scenes in this story. I prefer to leave that kind of stuff up to your imagination. I'm not against those scenes at all, but honestly…I'm not good at writing them lol. If there is a demand for them though…I might set up a side story on AO3 which would just have explicit exerts.

Lastly, I do not own ASOIAF or SW. If I did…well I wouldn't need to work my ass off 50+ hours a week lol. And a big thank you to my beta reader and brainstorm partner for this story, Tellemicus Sundance. Hope that you all enjoy and please leave a review if you feel so inclined!

Chapter 10

Taking a moment to wipe the sweat from his brow, Jon Snow took a deep breath. He was desperately trying to get enough air back into his lungs as he bent down at the knees and slid his fingers underneath a large crate. In fact, by all rights, it should have been carried by no less than two grown men. Slowly starting to lift it alone, he leaned back to try and balance the heavy crate full of only gods knew what. But, no, his Master did not see it that way. In his own words, 'I've been neglecting your training,acolyte'. His master had stated this morning, 'So, now we will rectify that. You will help with preparations for the Sea Wolf's departure. And you shall do so on your own, with no help from the rest of the crew.'

Managing only a few dozen steps, Jon stopped just short of the gangplank, nearly dropping the crate in the process at the edge of the dock. Gasping desperately, Jon stared up the length of the gangplank, dreading the march before him. It was the fourth such trip he'd be making with the same sized crate this morning. And the trips were not getting any easier with each successive time.

Resting his hands on the crate, Jon took a quick look around the dock, taking note of the sailors and slave dock workers that were helping to load the last of the supplies Nox and Ser Manderly had ordered before they set out of what was without a doubt, the longest and most daunting part of the expedition. Watching the men work, Jon took note of those who were not present to help with the last loading of the ship, which were quite a few. Most namely Asha, Dacey, Small Jon, Eddard Karstark, and, most importantly, his own Master Nox.

The fact that Master Nox was not around was not necessarily surprising. The Northern Sorcerer had been rather, well, absent ever since they arrived in Volantis two days ago. For the past two mornings he would leave the Sea Wolf early in the morning before the sun rose and would not return till after the sun had set in the evening. No one, not even Jon, knew where he was constantly disappearing too. Though, truth be told, no one wanted to find out either. Nox, while a good man and one to be admired and idolized, was not one to go easy on anyone who tried to get in his way. The only time Jon had seen him in the city over the past two days was when he returned to the brothel housing Prince Oberyn at Ser Manderyl's request to deliver a message to the Prince of Dorne about their departure. Jon was sure that the knight of House Manderly had done this on purpose just to get a response out of Jon, which he succeeded in as Jon could hardly keep his the flush from his face for the rest of the day after several whores who'd seen him with Nox offered him some…varied services. But it was on this trip that Jon had spotted Nox in the city, sitting at an outdoor eating area and talking to a…Septa for some strange reason. But before Jon could meet up with his Master, Nox was gone and so too was the woman he was talking with. Strange.

The fact the others, a good portion of the crew, were missing this morning was not really a mystery either. When Nox wasn't in the city, he was in his quarters with Jon, Asha and Ser Manderly going over their approach to Valyria with the new information his Master had apparently acquired from one of the Triarchs of the city. The night before they'd finally settled on a course of action and this morning Nox had called the entire crew out onto the deck while the sun was still below the horizon.

When the entire crew had gathered Lord Nox had not minced words with them. He told the crew that they would be sailing around the southern tip of the Valyria peninsula and approaching the ruined city using a river that should lead directly to the heart of Valyria. However, they would not be able to take the Sea Wolf down the river due to the ship's sheer size and fear of running aground and being stranded. So, they would be taking the six lifeboats up the river, and that he needed volunteers who were willing to brave the dangers and potentially give their very lives to reach Valyria. At first, no one moved. But then Asha stepped forward, followed by Dacey, Small Jon and Eddard. With the nobles setting the example, it was a relatively short time before enough volunteers had stepped forward. Once he'd had enough volunteers, Ser Manderly being the only noble who had not volunteered due to him needing to captain the return voyage should anything go wrong, Nox dismissed the rest of the crew that had not volunteered.

The sorcerer had then walked up to the forty or so men and women who had volunteered to put their very lives on the line and handed each two gold dragons. 'This might be the very last time any of you see civilization again.' Lord Nox had explained to them all. 'No one knows what awaits us in Valyria. But be sure that everything that walks, swims, crawls and shits in Valyria will want to kill you in the most painful way possible. And know that should you fall behind; you will be left behind. And should you become a liability and put the rest at risk, I will kill you myself. Those of you willing to accept this, take two steps forward.'

The volunteers all stepped forward twice without hesitation. 'Good. Then take those gold dragons in your hand and live your lives tonight as if they might be your last. Because they very well might.'

Jon had wanted to head off into the city with the rest of the men and women, but Lord Nox had held him back, saying that he was still a bit too young for what the rest of them would be getting up to this night. And had instead assigned Jon with the daunting task of helping to load the Sea Wolf…without help.

Shaking his head, Jon squatted down and moved his fingers underneath the edge of the crate once more, ready to make yet another trek up the gangplank. "Excuse me, are you a cabin boy for this vessel?"

Jon nearly dropped the crate on his toes. Biting back the curse that was threatening to leave his lips at having nearly broken something, Jon turned around and – froze. Standing just behind him, her eyes wide was an incredibly beautiful girl with the sun-kissed skin that was so common here in Volantis. Shaking his head to clear it, Jon stood up fully and face the girl who couldn't have been more than a year or two older than himself. The first thing he noticed, besides her beauty, was that she was free of any marks – tattoos – on her face, which meant she wasn't a slave. And given her dress and the way she held herself, Jon was willing to bet that she was of noble birth. And with the large rucksack slung across her back that was nearly as big as her upper half, she was looking to get away from this city for some time.

"Aye," Jon nodded. "Not a cabin boy, though. But I came on the Sea Wolf."

The woman nodded. "Sea Wolf. This is a Westeros vessel, is it not?"

"Aye."

The woman seemed to sag with relief. "Tell me, does the Northern Sorcerer ride this vessel? And if so, would it be possible to meet with himself or the captain? I wish to barter passage to Westeros."

Jon blinked. Then blinked again. Then had to keep himself from laughing outright. 'How Master Nox can predict these things… By the gods. One day, I can only hope to be half as smart as him. Either that, or he has some…what did he call it? Inside information?' It'd been just this morning, after dismissing those who'd be accompanying them into Valyria, that Nox pulled Ser Manderly and himself aside and informed them that a young woman would be coming to them today seeking passage to Westeros. And that she was to be given it.

"Of course, my lady," Jon said as politely as he could through his exhaustion. "If you'll follow me, I'll bring you to Lord Nox."

The young woman seemed surprised that her request had been granted so quickly. And the relief she felt was so thick and obvious that Jon could sense it easily through the Force. Taking her hand and leading her up the gangplank, Jon brought the young woman to Nox's cabin and, after knocking twice and waiting for his command to enter, brought her before his Master. Within his cabin, Nox was where he usually was. Sitting at one end of his table with a book in one hand and the fingers of the other gliding along the written words on the pages. How he managed to read without the use of his eyes was a skill Jon knew he would never be able to figure out. But Nox could read faster than any man he'd ever known. He swore his Master could go through a book a day, and that was a low estimate.

"Master Nox," Jon said, drawing a sharp look and spike of disapproval from the young woman. "This is, um…gods…I apologize. I never even asked for your name, my lady."

"Talisa," the newly named Talisa said simply, providing no family name, while glaring at Nox. "And I thought Westeros had laws against slavery?"

"It does," Lord Nox responded. "Quite harsh laws, in fact. And before this misunderstanding can continue, Jon is not my slave. He is my acolyte. My student. I am the Master and he is the learner."

Talisa seemed taken aback as she looked back and forth between Nox and Jon. "I apologize, my Lord. I did not mean to give offense."

"Yes, you did," Nox cut back, setting the book down. "And it's understandable. But rest assured, young lady. I know what it means to be under the whip. And I can guarantee you, I gladly follow the Westeros law on the matter. But that is neither here nor there, which is why I have taken no action during our stay here. Now, perhaps we could come to the matter of why the daughter of the Tiger Triarch Maegyr has come to a Westeros vessel with what looks like as many possessions as she could safely pilfer from her family home."

Shock ran through Jon as his head whipped around to Talisa. He knew of the Triarchs, the rulers of the City of Volantis. And this young woman was the daughter of one of them?! Why would she want to leave? And why was Master Nox dragging this out? He already informed Jon and Ser Manderly that he intended for her to come along with them.

As for herself, Talisa seemed to be on the backfoot as her face had gone slightly pale. "I – I have had disagreements with my father as of late and I…I wish to leave Volantis behind and start a new life for myself. Free of slavery. I can promise you that my father will not send men after me! And—And I have not 'pilfered' anything from my family's home that was not mine! You need not fear any retribution for taking me along."

"I see," Nox nodded, his fingers drumming against the tabletop. "So, say we take you with us. How do you intend to pay for passage? And what do you intend to do once we arrive at Westeros? Bringing the daughter of a Triach across the Narrow Sea is one thing. Leaving her to fend for herself and possibly get brutalized is quite another."

"I have coin to barter passage," Talisa quickly responded. "Enough to afford passage onboard any vessel and then some. I am also willing to offer my services as a healer in training to the men aboard the ship during your voyage. And…I know you are heading to Valyria, my Lord. And while I may not know a lot about the home of the lost Dragon Lords, I believe I can potentially offer some insight."

As Talisa made her offer, his Master just continued to stare off into the distance with his unseeing eyes. "Very well."

"I can also provide my services in translating an – wait…Did you say—?"

"I said that you can join us, Lady Talisa Maegyr." Master Nox repeated. "Though you will be sharing a cabin with two other ladies during the voyage. I hope that is not an issue as our space, despite the size of the Sea Wolf, is limited."

"Of course not, my Lord," Talisa smiled, a spark of hope swelling within her like a warm sunrise. "Thank you, my Lord. I promise you won't regret this."

"I'm sure I won't," Master Nox responded, a cryptic smile on his face. "Now, if you please, I have a feeling that my acolyte would like a word with me in private."

"Of course, my Lord," Talisa bowed before turning to him. "Thank you, Acolyte Jon. I look forward to speaking with you more once we are on the open water and Volantis is to our backs."

After she left, Jon turned to his Master. "Can you see it, Jon?" His Master asked before he could say anything. "Put the pieces together. All the clues are there."

Frowning, Jon thought deeply on everything that had happened since they'd arrived in Volantis. Nox's disappearances. Being pulled away from the ship by the Tiger Guards the moment they made port. The information he suddenly got regarding Valyria. And then, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him. "The Triarch." Jon stated, glancing up at his Master. "It was the Triarch who gave you all the information about Valyria. And—And the price of the information was that we have to give his daughter passage to Westeros."

Leaning back in his seat, Nox slowly and lightly began to clap his hands together. "Not bad, acolyte. You arrived at that conclusion quicker than I thought. Perhaps you have been paying more attention to my lessons, outside of combat, than I originally thought."

Jon felt both delighted at the praise and insulted at the backhanded compliment. But that was just Master Nox. "But why would he want to let his daughter go? Even going so far as to pay for her passage away from her home?"

"When you figure that out, acolyte, I will be truly impressed," Nox commented as he picked up his book once more. "Now, don't you have more crates to load up? I believe you are on your fourth crate."

Jon's mood immediately dropped. "Yes Master."

"Best get back to it then," Nox said, flipping open his book. "But why you are simply using brute strength instead of the Force is just plain stupid, if you ask me."

Jon had taken a single step towards the door before his master's words reached him. "What?" He asked, turning back around. "Use the Force, but—but you said that I wasn't allowed to!"

"Did I?" Master Nox asked, not turning from the book. "When did I do that?"

"When you told me to help load the supplies!" Jon all but yelled back, his frustration mounting at his master going back on what he told him.

"Really? Tell me, what were the words I used when I gave you your instructions this morning to help load the ship?"

Jon opened his mouth to spit the words back at his master, but then stopped. 'What were his exact words?' "You told me I had to help load the ship. And that I had to do the work of two or more men alone."

"Yes, I did," Nox nodded, flipping a page. "And where, in those instructions, did I say that you were not allowed to use the Force to help in your task? Hm? Wording is very important, Jon. Perhaps, next time, you won't let your frustration at being denied something cloud your thoughts when someone tells you something. Back to work now. But, first, show Talisa to her quarters. Shoo."

It took the Sea Wolf almost two weeks to navigate around the southern edge of the Valyrian Peninsula and arrive near the opening to the river that Nox hoped would lead them right to the heart of Valyria. 'This is the right course,' Nox thought to himself, feeling once again the familiar thrill of entering the unknown, staring death in the face and spitting on it. 'The Force will guide us. Even the dark side of the Force seems to want this…anomaly gone.'

It was a strange sensation indeed. This land was saturated in the dark side of the Force in such a way that Nox felt a wave of nostalgia for Korriban. But despite the dark side having such a strong hold, there was something…off about it. A strange hunger. Something strange was giving birth to this abnormal dark side. And while many aspects of the dark side could be considered 'unnatural' to most, whatever was causing this sensation was abnormal and wrong even by dark side standards.

Breathing deep, he let himself slowly sink into the cold of the dark side as he reached out through the Force and began following the path of the river. He could sense…pain. Suffering. Fear. Hunger. Twisted life forms struggling to survive as their bodies were forcibly adapting to the malevolent dark side energies that saturated this land they called home. 'Never thought I would find a Korriban so far away from, well, Korriban.'

"So, this is the river that will bring us to the home of the dragon lords of old, hm? Guess I was expecting something more…grand. Maybe some dragon statues on the sides of the river or at the very least sphinxes. Apparently, the old dragon lords loved those creatures almost as much as dragons."

"The Valyrians of old were indeed ostentatious, Prince Oberyn," Nox countered, not bothering to turn towards the Dornish Prince that'd saddled up next to him beside the railing of the Sea Wolf while the crew worked on lowering the half dozen lifeboats down into the water. "But, in the end, time is the master of all. No empire, nor structure, lasts forever. The flux and change of life will not allow it to be so."

Beside him, the cocky Prince scoffed good naturedly. "It is far too early in the morning for philosophy, sorcerer."

"Perhaps if your paramour hadn't kept yourself, and over half of ship for that matter, awake last night, it wouldn't be too early for philosophy, Prince Oberyn," Nox shot back, his concentration still mostly on the river leading inland.

"Ah, but what a night it was," Oberyn chuckled. "So, tell me, true sorcerer. Do you really think we will make it to Valyria and back with so few? Thousands have tried for hundreds of years. And none have succeeded. The only one that is known to have made it to Valyria and back was Princess Aerea Targaryen. And the only reasons she succeeded was because she rode abreast Balerion. Though, given her fate upon returning to Westeros, saying she succeeded in finding Valyria was not a cause for joy."

"We will," Nox stated, pushing away from the railing. "Thousands have tried for hundreds of years to discover the lost knowledge and riches of Valyria. And all have failed. But we will succeed because we have something those in the past didn't: Jon and I. Gather what supplies you need, Prince Oberyn. We leave as soon as the boats are loaded."

Leaving the Prince at the railing, Nox made his way across the deck, taking careful note of all of those on the main deck that were either joining him to Valyria or that were just helping in the preparation. The Small Jon was excited. The giant of the man was nearly bouncing on his feet as he kept his eyes training on the land laid out before them. Yet, at the same time, there was a definite fear that was laying under the surface. A fear born of knowing just enough about the land they were about to venture into to fear it. A feeling that was being echoed in Eddard Karstark and the rest of the crew of the Sea Wolf that would be joining them.

The three women that would be joining them however were completely different from each other and the rest of the crew. Asha was staring at the land not necessarily in fear, but more as if it were an obstacle to be conquered. Dacey meanwhile was just barely managing to hold herself together. But her desire to bring honor and aid to her House far outweighed any fear she was feeling. Obara, on the other hand, didn't even seem to care. To her, they may as well have been going for walk down the street. And then there was Jon. His acolyte was much like the Small Jon and the others. But unlike the others onboard that had fought in skirmishes or had been in several life or death situations, Jon had only really experienced true fear once.

Sensing their only non-native Westerosi passenger approaching, Nox turned away from those who would be joining them and faced the young daughter of Triarch Maegyr. He would freely admit that before they left Volantis, he had been worried about the deal he'd struck with the Triarch. After observing the nobility in the city for a few days, he was half expecting the Triarch's daughter to be some head-in-the-clouds naïve simpleton who didn't know up from down and expected everything she said to happen while she lazed about. But he'd been wrong, very wrong. The young woman was anything but a naive simpleton. She possessed an intelligence he'd only noticed in a few since arriving on this world, though not necessarily in the form of politics. But she was intelligent, particularly in the areas of medicine. Even though she was but a year or two at older than Jon and Robb, he would feel fully confident putting her knowledge against any of the 'learned' Maesters of the Citadel who'd forged their chains in the field of medicine. It was a refreshing change of pace to speak without having to use the simplest terms he could think of.

And she was anything but lazy. Within her first day on the sea, she had all but taken charge of the small infirmary on the Sea Wolf. And after setting a sailor's broken arm that most would've amputated, she'd earned the respect of the crew. Within the next few days just about everyone onboard was coming to her for any and all aliments they suffered, which was a relief for Nox as he no longer had to deal with each sailor who got a rope burn or sun burn. Figuratively speaking, of course, since he tried to enforce a strong standard of restraint and with high qualifications of what was needed to warrant his attention.

"Lord Sorcerer, the masks are ready," Talisa announced, holding out a leather mask for his inspection.

Taking the offered mask, Nox brought it up to his face and put it on. The leather formed well over the bridge of his nose and tucked itself under his chin towards his neck and was able to be tied tightly to his face so that it wouldn't move when he moved his head. But, most importantly, he could still breathe easily through the cloth covered breathing holes that were punctured into the face of the leather. Ideally, he would've preferred his own mask for himself and something comparable for the everyone else, but neither were an option at this point and time. Revan's mask had been left with Nyra as a keepsake and a promise, saying that he would return for her and the mask. And as for everyone else, well, the technology simply wasn't there to create proper air filtering masks. So, these would have to do. And they were better than nothing.

"Well done," he said, taking the mask off. "Pass these out to those coming on that boats with myself and the others."

"Yes, sorcerer," Talisa nodded, taking the mask from him and making to do as he said, only to stop and turn back after only taking a single step. "Is there truly no other way to deal with this…threat you spoke of, sorcerer? If it truly is as dire as you say, and now standing so close to this accursed land I am fully inclined to believe your words, then would it not be better to wait and come back with more men? Can such a small number truly deal with this darkness when my ancestors sent over two hundred ships, only to fail?"

"With what we are dealing with, numbers will not help. If anything, they will end up being a hindrance. And it is more than likely the reason why the expeditions your ancestors commissioned were doomed to fail from the start."

Being so close now to Valyria, Nox could get a more complete gauge of the land they were about to venture into. The peninsula felt almost identical to the Dark Temple on Dromund Kass. And he remembered all-too-well his venture through the Temple. Specifically, the way the Temple and the dark side was able to twist the minds of those who entered who weren't prepared. Which was why he'd spent every night since they came within eyesight of the peninsula carefully weaving protections around the minds of everyone that would be setting out with him. The last thing he wanted, or needed, was to have one of his own men suddenly lose his or her mind and try to stab him in the back.

"I'll…defer to your expertise in this matter then, sorcerer," Talisa replied slowly, bowing her head slightly to him before backing away so that she could begin handing out the leather masks to those that would be accompanying him.

As the last of the boats touched the water and the men and women began to fill them, Ser Manderly made his way over to him. "Lord Nox," the rather obese man greeted him. "I wish you the luck of the gods, both old and new… It looks like you're going to need it."

"I doubt any gods exist in this land, Ser Manderly. At least, not anymore," Nox murmured, his senses still trying and failing to peer into the dark abyss that was looming before them. "Once we're away, move the Sea Wolf back a fair distance until you do not feel any pressure on your mind or until any strange thoughts cease. Then wait for our return."

"And what if the worst should happen, sorcerer?" Ser Manderly asked as Nox began to lower himself down to the boats.

Pausing, Nox fixed his attention on the second son of Lord Manderly. "If we are not back in two sennights, then assume we are dead. Send no one after us and return to the North with Lady Talisa and deliver her to Lord Stark."

"Aye, sorcerer," Ser Manderly agreed, albeit reluctantly. "Gods be with you."

Dropping the rest of the way down into the boat, Nox settled in towards the bow of the row boat beside Jon while the Prince Oberyn and his daughter Obara took seats just behind them while the other four sailors took up their positions on the oars and began rowing towards mouth of the river that, according to the maps of Valyria before the Doom, would lead them directly to the capital of Valyria.

"So, two weeks to reach the city, search it, and return," Prince Oberyn commented idly as the sailors rowed them towards the land. "I wonder if you are cutting the timing a little too close, sorcerer. Looking at those maps you acquired, it could take us several days to even reach the city. And that is provided we do not run into any…unpleasantness. Then a few days to return. That does not leave much time to search through the ruins of Valyria."

"Tell me, Oberyn, can you feel that slight weight on your mind? The unease. The fear?" Nox asked, but did not wait for the Prince to respond before pressing on. "What you are feeling is residual effects of a dark ritual that was performed that left the very land tainted. Do you ever wonder why, after all these centuries, that none who has ventured deep into this land has managed to returned? Or, if they had returned, why did they return mad? It is because it is no fallacy to say that this land is cursed. Literally and figuratively. The longer we stay here, the higher the risk we have of succumbing to whatever influence has taken hold here. Two weeks is a long estimate, Prince Oberyn. And at that point, should we not have returned, then it would be safer for all involved should we be left to die."

He could feel the fear of the sailors in the boat grow with each word that passed through his lips. Even the seemingly unflappable Prince of Dorne was now facing off towards the land of Valyria with no small amount of unease. "Well…too late to back out now. And should it come out that Northman would venture where a Prince of Dorne dare not…I would never hear the end of it."

As the mouth of the river slowly drew closer and closer, Nox could feel the familiar oppressive weight of a land infused with the dark side of the Force intensify to a level that he had not expected, even after taking a full night to study the broken peninsula. It was…unusual, and unnerving in the depth and quickness of the change. As they passed into the mouth of the river, Nox had to fight to remain stoic as he felt the Force wash over him in such a rush that it nearly brought him to his knees. And as if to exemplify the sensation, cries of alarm and spikes of fear came from every boat that was with him.

"Quiet!" Nox hissed, his voice carrying over the distance between the boats, silencing everyone. But the unmistakable fear remained, even in the quiet. "Acolyte, what happened? We passed through a wave of the Force, but that should not have elicited such a response from those not attuned to such matters."

"It's…It's gone dark, Lord Nox," Jon answered, fear making his voice quiver slightly. "It was bright as day just a moment ago…But now…now it's as if it is now dusk with barely any light to see your own hands. And there's a fog. It's so thick I can barely see the other boats."

Frowning, Nox redoubled his Force sight to try and see just what exactly the others were seeing. But, for some reason, his vision was, limited. Under any normal circumstance, he could see just as well as any two-eyed individual with perfect sight. Even in heavy Force-concentrated lands, he could see just as fine, if not better. But now, in this land, his sight was hampered by something he had never encountered before. "Hold here! Light the lamps!" Nox called out to the other boats. "Stay within sight of the other lamps at all times! Trust nothing you see or hear beyond us!"

He could hear Jon fumbling about in the darkness as he brought out the oiled lamp with mirrors, another 'new' invention he'd brought up to the North before leaving. Finding the lamp, Jon held it out to the Prince of Dorne who, with but a single try, managed to light the oil infused wick with a piece of flint and steel. Taking the lamp, Nox affixed it to the front of the boat and waited as the other boats struggled to light their own lamps.

"Are the others lit?" Nox asked, thoroughly not enjoying having to rely on his acolyte to be his eyes while they were in this place.

"Yes, Lord Nox."

"Good. We press forward!" he said, raising his voice to carry to the other boats. "Do not give into your fear and do not doubt. Trust only in yourselves and those around you."

It took a bit, but soon enough the sound of oars striking the waters started up again and the small force Nox had assembled resumed their trek up the river towards Valyria. "Alright, sorcerer," Oberyn called out after a time. "What's your explanation for the loss of the sun? There is no logical explanation I can find for it…and the only land that I've heard of that is even remotely like this is Asshai. But even then, then transition from light to darkness is subtle and slow the closer you draw to the city."

"I have not seen Asshai, so I cannot comment as to why that land is shrouded in darkness. But as for here and now, the Force is vast and mysterious, Prince Oberyn. And lands where great concentrations of the Force can be found are often altered by the Force itself. And that is what has happened here."

With that explanation, conversations died as everyone began trying to peer through the darkness that had surrounded them. A short time after passing into the darkness Nox felt something waver the edges of his foresight. "Acolyte," he called out once more. "There, just before us in the river, what do you see?"

The boat shifted as Jon rose to his feet and took his place next to Nox, the young boy leaning forward almost to the point where he was in danger of falling into the river. "It…It looks like an island splitting the river in two."

Frowning, Nox pushed harder against the darkness shrouding his sight. Something didn't feel right about the 'island', as Jon had described it. It was unmoving and moss had seemingly started growing over the small mound, but he could feel a slight pulse of life coming from just under the surface of the water. He wasn't sure just what it was, but he wanted to steer clear of whatever it was. "Steer clear of the island before us," he ordered, feeling the position of the bow shift as the rowers shifted their patterns to obey his order.

As they passed the island by, Nox began to wonder if his senses were fooling him when he heard a commotion coming from the rearmost boat followed by a splash as something, or someone, fell into the water. "Bora! Get your arse back here!"

"There's a maiden!" The sailor in the water cried out as he swam loudly through the river towards the 'island'. "I can hear her song! She's…She's beautiful! We need…I need to get to the maide-"

"Fucking fool," Nox growled, raising his hand to forcibly pluck the idiot out of the water and bring him back to the boats.

But before he could so much as twitch a finger, the water shifted as the island moved. The sailor could only give out a single scream before a giant head emerged from under the surface of the water, catching the man in its massive open jaw and raising him out of the water. The darkness may have blocked out what happened next. But the sound of crunching, followed immediately by the ending of the sailor's surprised cry spoke volumes as to his fate.

"Fuck me sideways…Is that a fucking sea turtle? It looks like one that fucked a giant and then got mixed with some beast!" Prince Oberyn marveled, his voice filled with awe and fear in equal proportions.

"Wonder about that fucking later," Nox growled as the turtle finished its meal. "Row hard for the shoreline! We need to get out of the deep waters!"

The expedition didn't need telling twice and Nox had to balance himself as the boat he was on lurched forward as the rowers redoubled their efforts, none wanting to be anywhere near the carnivorous sea turtle the size of a small island. Holding his hand towards the turtle, palm out, Nox concentrated on the sea beast. Now that it was out of the water and active, he could get a good sense of the beast's mind. It wasn't mindless…but it certainly wasn't intelligent. It seemed driven only by hunger. Which was good. The less complicated the mind, the easier it was to influence in a manner that suited his needs. Sending waves of fear and domination towards it trying to scare the thing off. 'That fucking thing can swallow our boats whole…and that shell…a lightsaber could pierce it, but I doubt the wound it would create would be little more than a slight annoyance.'

But, strangely enough, as they moved closer to the shore the beast became fearful, even without his influence. And without even needing his help, the turtle turned tail and dove under the water, swimming away from them and back towards the mouth of the river. "Fucking hells," Small Jon Umber cursed from the boat next to him. "Did you see the size of that fucker? Swallowed that poor son of a bitch whole in one go! Fuck me…At least he's run off."

"And that should be more worrisome, Umber," Prince Oberyn commented, Nox's senses telling him that the Prince of Dorne was currently keeping a watchful eye on everything around them. "A beast like that would only flee if it was in the territory of another beast."

"What kind of beast could make…that…thing…flee?" Dacey Mormont asked from yet another boat.

"That, my dear," Prince Oberyn commented dryly. "is what we should be more worried about."

"Fuck this!" One of the sailors shouted as the boats pulled up near the rocky shore, water splashing about the man's boots as he jumped off the boat and ran to shore. "I'm not fucking dying for this shit! Not for any amount of coin! You fuckers can just pick me up on your way back…I'll be right fucking here."

Nox could hear the others mumbling about how he was right as the darkness and the sudden attack by the mutated sea turtle began to eat away at their courage. But before he could calm them down, he sensed a lifeform approaching from just across down the shoreline. "Get back on the boat!" Nox yelled, trying to locate the lifeform but was having a difficult time considering just how fast the creature was moving. "You're not alone on that fucking shore! Get back in the damn boat n-"

A burst of flame shocked everyone back onto their backsides, the boats splashing in the water as at least two fell over. The man on shore had but a moment to widen his eyes in terror before the flames overtook him and then he was gone. His loud but brief screams echoing down the beach as some sort of…what he could only identify as an oversized serpent with a fiery glowing hide dragged the horribly charred man off.

"Fuck! We need to hunt that fucking thing down and kill it!" Eddard Karstark screamed, his sword clearing his sheath.

"Do that and you're dead, Karstark!" Prince Oberyn yelled, as the men who'd fallen out the boats were being pulled back in. "That was a firewyrm, I'd bet my cock on it. And trust me, the last thing you want to do is go chasing after one of those god forsaken creatures. With that thing around, the only safe place for us to be is in the boats in the middle of the river. Firewyrms can't survive in the water."

"Back out there? With that fucking sea monster?" Small Jon yelled.

"I'd much rather take the fucking sea monster than the gods damned fire-breathing snake, moron," Asha shouted back, staring the much bigger man down. "The turtle has fled. That thing, though…? That will be fucking back."

"Asha is right," Nox said, agreeing with the Ironborn. "Get us away from the shore. And we press forward."

"Press forward? Two have already died! And you want to keep going? Fucking hells… You're fucking mad, sorcerer! You're…You're going to kill us! Feed us to the darkness…and…and you want us dead! You only want us dead! We should feed you to the fucking snake and sacrifice you! Yes…an offering to the gods of Valyria! The, the darkness is the way! The only way! We must feed the darkness! Feed the darkness!" Lunging forward, the man pulled a dagger from his belt, heedless of the others on the boat as he made for Nox with the blade extended towards his heart. "Feed the darkness the power of the sorcerer! Feed the true gods of-"

The air hissed as Nox's lightsaber sprung to life, the blade cleaving through the air and removing the man's head from his shoulders. And then with a simple Force push, the headless corpse fell out of the boat and into the water, the man's head joining soon after.

Deactivating his lightsaber, Nox turned his full focus on the shocked and frightened members of the expedition. "I told you all not to listen to the whispers in the darkness. To not give into your fear. This land is cursed, have no doubt of that. But your fear will only destroy you if you let it. This one let his fear get the better of him. Which is how and why the darkness within this land latched onto him and drove him mad. Trust in yourself. Trust in each other. Hold on to a powerful thought. A loved one. Your home. Your reward at the end of this voyage. And the darkness will find no purchase in your mind. But make no mistake. There is no going back now. Not until we finish what we came here to do. And that is end the curse on this land. You can either continue on with me, or you can take your chances swimming back or walking on land."

Silence greeted the end of his speech. A silence that was eventually broken by Asha. "Well, I don't know about these pussy-fuckers, but no Ironborn fears the water. What is dead may never die, only comes back stronger. I'm with you."

"Not about to let some Ironborn cunt outshine the bears of Bear Island. My mother and grandfather would never be able to look me in the eye again." Dacey Mormont added. "I'm in."

"Fuck," Small Jon grumbled. "My old man would let the fucking Bolton's flay me alive if I was too much of a coward to not go where women will…I'm still fucking in. So is Karstark here…even if he has pissed his pants."

"Fuck you 'Small' Jon. At least, judging from the smell coming from you, I didn't shit myself!" Eddard Karstark jibbed back, breaking the tension and drawing more than a few uneasy chuckles from the men.

Sitting back down, Nox motioned for them to press. As they started to move up the river once more, Nox's mind went back to just how quickly the man who had attacked him lost his mind. 'I despise having to use anything that woman taught me…but it seems I underestimated the pull of the dark side in this land. I'll have to actively shield everyone's mind from the darkness…and there's only truly one viable technique to do so on this scale though it will be very taxing. But still, better to be taxed than to have to constantly look over my shoulder waiting for my own men to stab me in the back. Force…it feels like I'm back in the Dark Council Chambers.'

As he began working out the logistics of shielding everyone, Oberyn leaned towards him. "Sorcerer, while we need to stay out in the middle of the water, it would behoove us to find a place to stop for a brief time so we can inspect each other thoroughly."

"Why?" Nox asked, turning his attention to the Prince of Dorne.

"Not much is known about firewyrms, sorcerer. In fact, there is only one documented case in all of the Citadel about them. But one thing that is known is that they produce larva. Larva that infect the flesh like bot flies. Only difference is these larvae burn the host from the inside as they grow. Killing their host in a most horrendous fashion. And I don't know about you but being slowly roasted alive by larva festering beneath my flesh is perhaps the last way I wish to leave this world."

Nox could see his point. Risking exposing himself, Nox focused hard on the river before him and let his sense flow outwards but kept himself contained to the river. "There is a wrecked ship less than two hours row from here," he said. "The ship ran upon some rocks and cannot move, but it should serve for our purposes. And I wholeheartedly agree with you, Oberyn. That would indeed be one of the last ways I would want to leave this world."

"Alright, lad. I don't see shit on you. Not that I can hardly see shit to begin with. Now put your clothes back on before you make the women blush, Snow."

Shaking his head, Jon immediately began pulling on his pants as Eddard Karstark began to do the same. Looking around the deck of the shipwrecked Lannister ship, Jon took a quick count of everyone on board. Not that he really needed too. He already knew exactly how many of them there were. And it was two less than the number they set out with. And those two, gods, Jon didn't think he would ever forget what happened to them. One was pulled underwater by some sort of giant turtle. And the other…the other plucked off the ship, burned alive, and then eaten by a firewyrm. Neither was a fate Jon would wish upon anyone.

Tightening his pants and throwing his shirt back on, he left his Karstark kin to finish getting dressed while he went over and stood next to Master Nox, who at the moment was standing by the edge of the ship staring off towards the east. At least Jon thought it was east. It was near impossible to tell in the thick fog that covered Valyria and blocked out the sun to tell which way was which. Standing beside the sorcerer, Jon tried to peer out into the darkness with both his eyes and through the Force, yet he failed with both.

"Can you see anything, Jon?"

Nox's sudden question caught Jon by such surprise that he only just barely managed to keep himself from jumping. "I – no," Jon answered honestly, trying once more to see, or sense, anything beyond the ship. "I can't see anything through the fog and without the sun. And I – I can't sense anything either. At least nothing beyond the ship."

"And why do you believe that is?"

Jon frowned in thought as he tried to work out an answer to Lord Nox. "Because something is…preventing us from seeing?"

"In a manner of speaking, you are correct," his Master confirmed. "But it is far more complicated than just someone blocking our sight. There is such a ritual for that specifically, but it would be impractical to use the ritual I'm thinking of in such a confined area. So, rather, it is not someone but rather something that is blocking our Force Sight. And that is the very land of Valyria itself."

That brought Jon up short and sent a spike of fear through him. "Valyria itself is…blocking us?"

"In a sense," Master Nox nodded. "I am now more convinced than ever that what happened to cause the Doom was some sort of powerful ritual gone wrong. I can only speculate on the exact details of the ritual, but to be sure it was a dark, very dark ritual. One that covered the very land itself in a blanket of the dark side and turned it into this desolate wasteland where only the strongest can survive."

Biting his lip, Jon fought to keep himself calm. "But you can see through the darkness, right, Master? You're the most powerful man alive in manners of the Force."

His Master didn't answer immediately, which did nothing to calm the swell of fear within Jon's gut. "My vision is also impaired, acolyte. Normally, yes, I would be able to break through the shroud that is blocking us. But as I am now, I cannot."

Now it was all Jon could do to keep his fear in check. If his Master, the strongest and most powerful man alive, couldn't fight back against whatever was shrouding this, then what hope did they have? "Then…what – ?"

"This land is far more than tainted than I had originally anticipated," his Master cut him off. "Already it is looking to twist and corrupt the minds of those with us. And it is taking a good deal of my strength to hold the darkness at bay. And while I am doing so, I'm counting on you to be my eyes, both physically and through the Force."

The fear within him was now reaching heights he never knew possible. "I – I don't –"

"If you don't, then we will all perish within these lands, Jon," Nox said, using his name and surprising Jon greatly as he turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You're strong, Jon. Strong as any I have met or trained. Do not doubt yourself. To doubt is to invite failure. And if you fail, then we will all die. Set your nerves to steel, Jon. Use your fear to strengthen your resolve to live. Do not try. Just do. You always wanted to prove that you were more than just a Snow. More than just a stain on your father's honor. Well, this is your chance to do just that. Prove all those who thought you were worthless wrong. Here and now."

The fear that was almost overtaking him but a moment ago evaporated faster than a pool of water in Dorne. His Master rarely gave out compliments. But now, he…he just said that he trusted Jon to be his eyes for him. And Jon…Jon would not fail. And with that decision, it was almost as if a veil had been lifted from his eyes and from the Living Force around him. He still couldn't see far past the wrecked ship they were on. But he could see and sense everything that was on the ship with them. Including the strange presence that had just started dropping down from the rotten mast to land behind Prince Oberyn's daughter, Obara.

"Obara! Get down!"

What happened next occurred over the span off only a few seconds, but for Jon they felt like an eternity. He watched as a figure in black dropped from the sky and landed behind Obara. He could see the fear in Obara's eyes as she turned, her hands grasping for the spear that was not by her side. He could see Oberyn shouting for her. He could see his own hand rising slowly as the figure in black raised a blade high in the air, ready to cut Obara down. And then the figure was gone. Flung backwards and into the back-cabin wall of the wrecked ship with enough momentum to carry him clear through the rotten wood and into the room beyond.

For a moment, no one moved or said anything. Then all seven hells broke loose as one of the sailors yelled out 'Stoneman'. With that one word, everyone on the wrecked ship were suddenly scrambling for whatever weapons they could find while spinning around in tight circles trying to see if there were any more attackers looking to ambush them.

"Enough!"

Nox's one-word command was said with such a commanding force that everyone stopped in place as if he was holding them with the Force. Without a word, Lord Nox held out his hand towards the hole that'd been created in cabin wall. As the body that'd been flung through the wall came back out onto the deck, everyone took several steps back and kept their swords, spears or clubs at the ready to kill whatever it was.

"This isn't time to sate your curiosity, sorcerer," Prince Oberyn nearly hissed, having moved himself between his daughter and her would be attacker, his spear held tightly in his hands ready to end the threat. "Stonemen have lost their minds to greyscale. We need to kill it and dump the body over the railing and get—"

"That is no Stoneman."

Staying close to Lord Nox, Jon watched in fascination as his Master used the Force to pull the man's helmet off. The man beneath the helmet couldn't have been much older than his Lord father, or even Master Nox, but that was where the similarities ended. He man's cheeks were hollow like the smallfolk near the end of the winter years, and his skin was almost the color of ash from dirt and only the gods knew what else. His, what Jon could only assume was golden, hair was covered in mud and the long locks were tangled into numerous knots.

While most everyone was looking at the man in fascination and confusion, there was one who was not. "Oh, the gods truly have a sense of humor, don't they?" Prince Oberyn growled, his sudden anger so strong that it nearly brought Jon up short.

"You recognize this man, Oberyn?"

The Prince of Dorne nodded, lowering his spear and spat, "Yes. This is none other than Gerion Lannister, the younger brother of Tywin-fucking-Lannister."

"A Lannister?" Small Jon Umber bellowed. "What in the fucking hells is a gods damned Lannister doing all the way out here in?"

"Probably the same thing we are, 'Small' Jon," Asha shot back.

The Umber heir scowled at Asha. The trip had done little to nothing to mending the relationship between the Greyjoy and the Umber. "I know that, raider. I meant: why is he out here? Shouldn't he be back in the Westerlands shitting gold with his cunt brother?"

"Gerion Lannister sailed out from Lannisport three years ago in hopes of making it too Valyria and finding the Lannister's ancestral sword, Brightroar. He has not been heard from since." Lord Nox answered, kneeling next to the unconscious Lord and holding his hand above his face. "And, in all this time…he has somehow managed to keep his mind from succumbing to the pull of the dark side…at least mostly. Interesting."

While Lord Nox was examining the man, something caught Jon's eye. Keeping wide of the unconscious Lannister and his Master, Jon went over to the hole in the ship and peered inside. Lying just inside the hole was a sword. A hand and a half sword that seemed in remarkable condition. But what truly caught his eye was the red-rippling pattern running down the length of the blade. A pattern he'd only seen on two other blades. Ice, and Red Rain. 'Valyrian steel,' he thought, grabbing the hilt and pulling the sword out from the wreckage.

Feeling a presence walk up next to him, Jon stopped gazing at the sword and found Obara standing next to him. "Is that Valyrian steel?"

"Aye," Jon nodded, glancing down at the golden lion that'd been engraved into the pummel of the sword. "Brightroar if I had to guess."

Lowering the blade, Jon made to rejoin Lord Nox, but found himself halted as Obara grabbed him by the arm. The next he knew; she had yanked his mask down as well as her own and her lips were pressed against his. The act caught him so off guard that he couldn't even form a response before she pulled away from him. "Don't expect that to happen again," Obara said, stepping away from him, her eyes hard as she reaffixed her mask in place. "That was a 'thank you' for saving my life. Nothing more, boy."

Jon felt his face heat from his neck to the roots of his hair as several wolf whistles and cheers came from all around him. Dacey and Asha were both openly laughing at him and the Small Jon and Eddard were giving him looks of approval. But the one he feared the most was Prince Oberyn. He had just kissed, his first kiss, the Prince's daughter. But instead of looking angry the prince looked, pleased. And when their eyes met, the Red Viper merely gave him a cocky grin before he turned his attention back to Lord Nox and the unconscious Lannister.

"So, now that that bit of entertainment is out of the way," Prince Oberyn said loudly, "what do we do with the Lannister?"

"We take him with us." Lord Nox stated, rising to his feet and holding a hand over the still form of Gerion Lannister.

"I'm sorry, I think I might have misheard you." Prince Oberyn said, shaking his head and working a finger in his ear. "I believe you just said something incredibly stupid like we are going to be taking a Lannister with us. A Lannister who just a moment ago tired to cut my daughter down."

"No, you heard me correctly. This man has survived a year or more in this land on his own and he was able to keep his mind intact. Or at least mostly intact. That alone piques my interest in him." Not a single word was spoken amongst the men and women as Nox stood between Prince Oberyn and the downed lost Lannister. "I know your history with House Lannister and believe me I understand your anger all too well Prince Oberyn. But can you honestly tell me that this man before us had anything to do with what happened to your sister, niece, and nephew? And if you need another reason, then think of how much it will twist a knot into Tywin Lannister's gut when he learns that it was a Martell that not only helped to save his brother's life, but also helped in returning Brightroar to House Lannister. After all, a Lannister always repays their debts, do they not?"

The movement was slight, so slight that if one were not watching for it, they would miss it. But it was the slight shifting Jon felt that drew his eyes to Lord Nox's right hand. The same hand that made a quick cutting motion with his forefinger barely a fist width. But it was unmistakable. "They do," Prince Oberyn nodded. "Very well, sorcerer. I'll play your game for now. But mark my words: should that Lannister even look my direction in a manner that displeases me, I will cut him down without hesitation."

The tension quickly bled out of the area as Oberyn, followed quickly by Obara, marched away from the downed Lannister and towards the edge of the wrecked ship where their boats were tied off. "Umber, Karstark. See to it that the Lannister and his sword are placed into one of the boats." Lord Nox commanded the two men.

"Aye, sorcerer," Small Jon nodded, walking up to the Lord Lannister before seemingly thinking twice and stopping. "Should we secure him? Don't feel like turning my back on the man. Even if he's unconscious."

"There's no need for concern." Lord Nox waved off his concern. "I've placed him into a coma. One that won't lift until I want it to be. He's as safe and secure as he will get. The rest of you get back into the boats. We've already wasted far too much time here as it is."

"If you say so, sorcerer," Umber nodded, grabbing the Lannister under the arms. "Karstark! Get your thin arse over here and lift his legs. Don't feel like carrying this fucker on my own."

Watching as the everyone slowly started making their way back towards the boats, Jon waited until they were mostly alone before approaching Lord Nox. He recognized what Lord Nox had just done. It was a technique called 'Force Persuasion', and it was used to dominate the mind of a man and make them think whatever you wanted them too. And it was a technique that Jon, his brother, and Lord father all found to be without honor. And it was a technique that Jon swore he would never use. "Lord Nox…"

"You saw it, didn't you? Either your observation skills are increasing significantly, or I'm getting rusty." Not trusting himself to speak, Jon nodded. "You still have reservations on using certain techniques I have taught you. You must cleanse yourself of these thoughts of what is honorable and socially acceptable. Only then will you be able to fully access your full power and thereby know the correct path to take."

"But…forcing someone to do what you want, controlling their mind. There is no honor in that," Jon said lowly, not wanting the others to hear their conversation.

Nox's face turned towards him, his unseeing eyes seemingly peering into his very being. "Tell me, Jon. What is more important: to be honorable or to do the right thing? Going into a battle and causing the death of thousands. Or using a Force Persuasion to make the commander of the opposing army stand down, thereby avoiding the battle all together."

Jon didn't like this. Every time he tried to argue aspects of right and wrong with Lord Nox, he always felt like a fool. Something that his Lord Father had confided that Nox did as well to both himself and Robb as well. "But forcefully controlling someone's mind is just…wrong. The gods gave us free will. And it goes against the gods to alter that."

"A Sith uses every tool at his or her disposal, Jon." Nox replied calmly. "And even a Jedi isn't afraid to negotiate to get others to see the better path. Remember our lessons back in Winterfell. Not everyone you meet will fall into your ideas of honor, let alone what is right and wrong. Holding onto your honor is all well and good, but do not let it be your downfall. And if it makes you feel any better, what I did to Oberyn was not a Force Persuasion. That man has far too strong of a mind to be susceptible to such tricks. No. What I did was merely…nudge him in the direction I wanted him to go. But his anger over what happened to his family back during the Rebellion clouds his judgment. I merely gave him a moment of clarity as it were. Now come. We still have quite a bit of ground to cover before we reach Valyria. And I'm still counting on you to be my eyes while we go."

Watching his Master walk away, Jon frowned, his thoughts heavy. 'Maybe…Maybe Lord Nox is right. Honor will also be important. But if you could save lives by using…less then desirable means… Then does that mean that, in the end, you did the more honorable thing by taking the path that save lives rather than costs them? Gods, no wonder father said he avoids conversations of ethics and honor with Lord Nox.' Setting his thoughts aside for the moment, Jon followed Nox over to the boats so that they could continue down the river towards the home of the dragon lords.

After leaving the wrecked Lannister vessel behind, Nox had the men and women with him set a brisk pace through the rivers of Valyria. While the river itself had an unnatural calmness to the surface of the water, it was not free of obstructions. The most frequent of which belonged to wrecked ships that had either run ashore on rocks beneath the surface of the water or were partially to almost completely submerged under the water. And while most were easy to bypass, there were a few that were blocking the river in such a way that it was next to impossible for them to navigate around them, leaving it to Nox and Jon to lift the wrecks out of the water and move them off to the side.

While the wrecks were a nuisance, given their consistency, they were barely even a footnote in the problems that they were encountering. Without sunlight, with the oppressive weight of the dark side, and having to divide his attention in protecting the minds of the men and women with him, it was next to impossible to tell the actual time of day or night. Leaving them with only exhaustion earned from rowing to mark the passage of time. And with exhaustion came the need to rest. Unfortunately for them, however, resting was confined to within the boats where half the men or women onboard would rest while the other half rowed. Thankfully, it was an arrangement that everyone was willing to follow after two failed attempts at resting off the boats.

The first chance they took was at least an hour or two past the Lannister vessel when they came upon another shipwreck, this one was like the Lannister ship in that it was mostly intact. Against a warning from the Force, one Nox tried and failed to impress upon the others, they tied their boats up to the wreckage and the crews disembarked to catch some much-needed rest. While most of Nox's expedition Force started unloading the boats or setting out food, one of the sailors who'd been most adamant about needing a rest had found a comfortable spot against some rotten wood to lean back against and catch some rest. A rest he would never wake from.

One of the other sailors had made to shake his seemingly sleeping shipmate awake, only to let out a scream of terror as the resting sailor fell face first onto the deck. His back covered in fist sized slugs that had burrowed into his flesh and were in the process of making a meal out of his internal organs. It didn't take much convincing after that for the expedition to pack back up immediately and get back onto the boats and continue on their way.

The second time had been when they'd found a solid rock formation on the side of the river. Not sensing any dangerous lifeforms, or even any lifeforms for that matter, in the immediate vicinity, Nox had agreed to go ashore and let the expedition rest for a short while. And while he was correct in that there were no dangerous animals nearby, the reasoning as for why that was became apparently rather quickly as one of the men found a small stream feeding into a pond just off the edge of the river. For reasons that Nox could not comprehend and despite his warnings about not trusting anything coming from the land, the sailor had cupped his hands into the stream and taken a drink of the water.

By his own admission, Prince Oberyn was a master of nearly all things related to poisons. But even he was surprised at just how quickly and violently the seeming innocent looking water took effect. Within a minute of drinking, the sailor was projectile vomiting up everything in his stomach while blood began to drain from every orifice on his body. There had been no hope for the man. And the only thing that could be done for him was a quick death, which Nox granted with a twist of his wrist which snapped the doomed man's neck.

Thankfully, after losing four of the expedition before the close of the first day, or at least what Nox assumed was the close of the first day, things began to fall into a routine and normalize. Or at least normalize as much as possible considering they were traversing through a land that Nox was quickly coming to think could make even Korriban seem tame in comparison. The members of the expedition, no longer willing to get off the boats for any reason, had settled into their current rotation where half the remaining members would row, and the other half would rest while either Jon or Nox would take lead, guiding them through the darkness of Valyria. It was boring. But at least it was a good type of boring in which there wasn't a significant risk of death.

After nearly a dozen rotations of rowing, Nox felt something shift in the Force. It was similar to the shift he'd felt when they first came close to the peninsula, only in reverse this time as the constant dark weight pressing on his mind seemed to almost lift ever so slightly. A sensation that caused almost the entire expedition force start as Jon quickly rose from his seated position next to Nox. His excitement so intense that he was almost shaking in place.

"Master Nox," Jon breathed beside him, no doubt having felt the same thing he had.

"Tell me what you see, acolyte."

"There's – We're passing by a breakwater! Just like in White Harbor!"

Lowering his defenses on the minds of the expedition slightly, Nox refocused himself so that he could see with unclouded eyes through the Force once more. "We're here," he said, a smile coming upon him as he turned to face the expedition as he spoke loud enough for all to hear him. "At long last, Valyrian Freehold. The home of the dragon lords."

His words were like a drink of water to man dying of thirst as the expedition, almost as one, shot to their feet, nearly tipping the boats in their exuberance as they all watched as they passed by the sphinx topped breakwater leading into what he hoped as the harbor adjacent to the Old Valyria.

"The fog is lifting," Prince Oberyn stated, the man staring around in wonder. "It's still dark…but the fog has lifted. Why?"

Frowning, Nox concentrated on the barrier they'd passed just before the breakwater. The barrier was, surprisingly, made up of the light side of the force, and seemed primarily to serve to keep things out. But not physical objects, considering they were able to pass through without incident. Which then raised the question of just why it'd been erected and what purpose did it serve? 'The latter answer seems obvious,' he thought as the members of the expedition began rowing with a renewed purpose as their end objective came closer and closer. 'It was erected to keep out the dark side taint that has covered the land. But why that in specific? And when was it created? During the Doom? Before? Or perhaps survivors created it to keep themselves safe?'

The last thought gave Nox a moment of pause. As unlikely as it was, there was still the possibility of survivors in this dark side infused land. Deciding it was better to err on the side of caution, Nox let his sense roll over the landscape. He could sense the barrier of light, a large dome that encompassed almost the entirety of the ruined city just before them. But inside of the dome he could sense nothing. No life. Not even that belonging to insects. The city might've been protected from dark side that'd covered the land, but it was truly a dead city in every sense of the word.

"I see a dock ahead!" Asha called out, her fledging power enhancing her vision just enough to see through the darkness and the light fog that covered the water.

Her eyes proved true as within a few minutes of near frantic rowing the expedition let out a cry of joy and relief as a set of stone piers appeared through the fog. "Bring us up to the nearest pier," he ordered. "Get the ropes ready to tie us off."

As the first boat carrying Nox, Jon, Obara and Oberyn neared the stone pier, the sailors onboard immediately jumped off the moment they were close enough and began to tie off the boat while the other four boats found separate parts of the pier to tie off onto.

Stepping onto the pier, Nox took a moment to shake out his legs to get the blood flowing back through them after sitting for only the Force knew how long. The rest of the boats emptied rather quickly as everyone was rather anxious to get back onto relatively safe land. Or as safe as the land could be on this peninsula.

"By the Drowned God and gods of old and new…" Asha murmured, coming up and standing beside him as the two peered into the ruins that was Old Valyria. "Sorcerer…if I could give you my eyes for a day to see this, I surely would in return for this gift of bringing me here. This…This will be a tale none on the Iron Islands will ever hope of topping for a hundred years."

"No need to gift me your eyes, Asha," Nox replied, stepping towards the base of the pier and onto the stone walkway that led towards a street running between the ruined houses of Valyria. "I can see just fine."

And he could. Valyria, just like almost all larger cities on this world, was filled with buildings that were stacked nearly on top of each other. But that was about where the similarities ended. For while White Harbor, Braavos, and Volantis all had buildings made up of stone, wood and mud, every single building within Valyria was made of a black stone substance that a had faint echoing of the Force within. Almost as if this entire city were made in manner similar to the Jedi and Sith Temples on Tython and Korriban respectively.

But that was about all the good he could say, as evidence of the Doom that cause the fall of Valyria was very evident in hardened lava lining parts of the streets. Most if not all the once perhaps majestic buildings had been damaged or outright destroyed. And most telling of all was the settled and very thick layer of ash that nearly went up to his knees, and in some places even deeper.

"So, it was a volcanic eruption hat caused the Doom," Prince Oberyn observed, poking at the hardened lava resting against one of the houses.

"What in the gods' names is a…volcanes….whatever the fuck you said?" Small Jon mumbled, staring down at the hardened lava, poking it with the tip of his sword.

"A volcano is a fissure in the surface of the planet leading down to a pocket of molten rock, magma or lava if you will," Nox explained, taking a moment to further examine the immediately area in as much detail as he could. "Over time, pressure from natural gasses will build up beneath the fissure and eventually the fissure will rupture, spewing forth the magma, volcanic ash, and gasses that'd been pressurizing beneath the surface. A small eruption can affect anything with a mile or so of the eruption point. However, a large-scale eruption can affect everything within several leagues. Falling ash thick enough to choke a man. Lava running across the ground hot enough to burn a man to death just from passing too close by. Falling rocks and melted stone larger than a carriage falling from the sky. What happened here was no doubt a large-scale eruption."

Everyone, including Prince Oberyn, stopped and stared at him. "Are you sure you have never been to the Citadel, Sorcerer?" Oberyn asked, shaking his head. "You speak with the knowledge of an Archmaester who has forged enough chains to weigh a man down."

"If…If such a thing caused the Doom…then are we safe even standing here?" Eddard Karstark asked uneasily. "What if this…eruption thing happens again?"

"Unlikely," Oberyn answered before he could. "A volcanic eruption on this size is believed to happen only once every several hundred years. At least that is the theory proposed by the most learned men in the Citadel and confirmed by scholars in Essos. So, there shouldn't be any concerns of us getting caught in another blast anytime soon. But…this cannot be all that caused the Doom."

"Why not?" Nox's acolyte asked, his tone curious. "It looks like everyone here died from exactly what Master Nox described."

"Because it is unlikely that a volcano caused the breaking of the peninsula," Nox answered. "There is only one other such recorded event similar in history. The tale of the Children of the Forest breaking the Arm of Dorne to try and prevent the First Men from crossing the land bridge from Essos to Westeros."

"So, you're saying someone broke the peninsula of Valyria just like the Children are said to have broken the Arm of Dorne," Prince Obery summarized. "An interesting theory, but one that you are not alone in thinking. One of the Archmaesters in the Citadel, Marwyn, brought forth that same theory some years ago. And he was nearly laughed out of the Citadel and strip of his chains just for suggesting it. But looking at this place, perhaps he truly was on to something."

This was not the first time Nox had heard of this Archmaester. 'Marwyn the Mage', Maester Luwin called him. A name he had garnered for his near obsessive research into the arcane arts. 'The more I hear of this particular Archmaester, the more I am inclined to invite him to Winterfell to speak with him. Or perhaps even make a trip to the Citadel. The library is said to be the only one that surpasses the library of Winterfell.' "Yes, I do believe that something caused the Doom, or at least kickstarted it."

"Then, why didn't they flee?" Jon asked. "I mean, they had to know something was going on. Couldn't they have outrun the eruption? And whatever or whoever caused it?"

"Possibly. But I think they had more on their minds than simply fleeing once whatever started the Doom happened." To accent his point, he pointed off to his right and with a gentle wave of the Force, created a small gust that parted the mist at least momentarily.

What was revealed made everyone gasp. And the few swords that were not drawn were suddenly pulled from their sheaths and held at the ready. Barely fifty paces away from them laying across the destruction of several stone buildings were the two dragon skeletons. At least he believed they were dragons given what he knew of the creatures. Each creature was nearly half the size of the Sea Wolf with a wingspan that could rival the great Northern ship. But what was most curious was not the fact that there were two dragon skeletons that had crashed into several homes and presumably died upon impact. No, what was most curious was the fact that one dragon clearly had the neck of the other in its powerful jaws and had not let go even as they crashed and died together.

"Put those down," Nox commanded. "They're dead. And even if they were not, I doubt simple swords and clubs would be enough to even make those things blink."

Keeping his spear held level, Oberyn moved through the ash towards the two skeletons. "They were battling one another," he noted, coming to the same conclusion as Nox. "Civil unrest and infighting during a volcanic eruption…I wish I could say I am surprised. But what little history remains of the Valyrian Freehold would say that this would be a normal occurrence."

Turning around, he motioned towards the dozen sailors that were trailing behind the main group. "You lot stay here at the docks. Do not venture beyond eyesight of one another. And whatever you do: do not touch anything with your bare hands. Not until we have a chance to examine it better. And keep an eye on the Lannister. Should things go tits up, we might need to awake him for his sword arm if nothing else.""

The men nodded, needing little encouragement after seeing the corpses of the two dragons, before backtracking the short distance to the boats. Down nearly a quarter of their manpower, Nox took a pause to search the area once again. This time he was focused more of his power into the buildings, piercing through the strange stone that seemed almost resistant to the Force. And then he felt it. A slight resonance within the Force that nearly had him jump in surprise. 'How could this be?'

"This is strange," Prince Oberyn observed, his gaze pointed skywards as if he were trying to pierce the darkness looming over their heads.

"No shite," Small Jon muttered, shaking his head. "We're standing in the middle of fucking Valyria of all places…what hasn't been strange so far?"

"Not that," Prince Oberyn shot back hotly before pausing and recollecting himself. "Well, in part it is that. But listen. What do you hear?"

The rest of the expedition stopped in their tracks and turned their heads skywards. "I don't hear a fuckin thing," Small Jon muttered, breaking the silence.

"Exactly," Oberyn stated as if it were the most obvious thing. "No birds. No wind. No creatures scuttering about. No rippling of the water. Nothing. Even on our way through the cursed land to reach this city we could still hear the sound of wildlife. But here, here there is nothing but silence."

Nox was seriously starting to like the Prince of Dorne. The man appeared carefree and reckless. But, in reality, he had a very keen mind that made him dangerous both on and off the field of battle. And while he might not be exactly what Nox was looking for in an ideal rival to keep him sharp, he was close. "Jon," Nox called out to his acolyte. "Reach out with your senses and search for anything in the area that feels…off."

His acolyte gave him a quick nod before shutting his eyes. Nox could feel the young man reach out through the Force, grabbling blindly as he tried searching for anything. 'Going to need to work on this more.' Nox thought with a frown as he watched Jon search through the Force. 'He's reaching blindly. Searching without a pattern and backtracking over himself without even realizing it. At this rate, I'm going to have to forcibly direct him in the location of the resonance if I want us to keep moving at a reasonable pace.'

Just as he was about to do just that, he felt Jon's senses sharpen as he honed his attention onto the resonance Nox had found. "There," he said, pointing towards the resonance with his eyes still closed. "There…There is something in that direction."

"Well done," Nox commented as Jon opened his eyes, a swell of pride coming from his acolyte. "But your searching was faulted. You backtracked over yourself multiple times. You need to work on developing a search pattern when you reach out through the Force, otherwise you will never find anything that isn't sticking out like a sore thumb. Now, let's keep moving. Jon, you're on point with me."

Setting off down the street, or at least what was left of the street, Nox and the others nearly had to high step as they trudged through several hundred years of dirt and volcanic ash that'd only semi-hardened over the years. 'It's almost as if this place has been frozen in time. But the barrier we passed through wasn't near strong enough to cause such an effect. Yet, this place is so remarkably well preserved.'

As if to prove his point, as they passed by an alley the group pulled to a stop as Dacey let out a light gasp. Tucked against the wall of a building was a skeleton that was clutching another skeleton close to its chest. "A young woman, judging by the structure of the hips. And child in her arms." Oberyn observed, using his spear tip to lift the gilded collar around the skeleton's neck which, amazingly, did not cause the skeleton to crumble. "A slave. But the child doesn't wear a collar."

"She was protecting the child," Dacey said mournfully before whispering a prayer to the old gods under her breath. "Let's…Let's move. No point in standing around with our thumb up our asses."

"Oh, interesting. Didn't realize that sort of thing interested you, my beautiful she-bear."

Rolling her eyes, Dacey waved her mace just under the Prince's nose. "Keep those thoughts in your heard Viper, or my mace will find its way up your ass."

That was the wrong thing to say as Oberyn merely winked at the young woman. "Well, I'm usually the 'giver' in such situations my dear. But I am not opposed to be a 'receiver' in the right company. And if such a thing truly interests you, I might just be willing to make that exception. Though, we might want to find something smaller. I understand pleasure houses in Yunkai have these wooden polished fake phalluses that women can wear around their waist for such occasions."

The half of Dacey's face that was visible above her leather mask went red as she tried to stammer a reply, only to come up short as several of the men chuckled or gave her wolf-whistles, making the she-bear glare at them threateningly before holding her head high and purposefully marching away from them. Nox allowed the moment of levity to go. Given the situation they were in, and just where they were, a bit of humor wasn't the worst thing for the men and women currently under his command.

After nearly an hour of trudging through the ruined city, the expedition found themselves before a dome structure that, like the rest of Valyria, had seen better days. 'But what better days they were,' Nox thought, marveling at the architecture as he led the group up the stairs towards a towering set of double doors that were left ajar. 'The strange Force-touched black stone. The masonry. All of it: it's extraordinary! And even more so due to it being built by hand instead of with machines. It's still so remarkable to me…just what works of art this world can create without the use of droids or advance building techniques.'

Walking through the doors, Nox paused as he turned his head skywards. The room they'd walked into was about half the size of Republic Senate chambers, making it almost ridiculously massive even by this world's standards. Around the edges of the room were columns of black stone statues, separated out evenly to provide both support to what was once the roof, as well as to add an artistic flare to the room as each column was carved into the visage of beyond beautiful human men and women standing in heroic or suggestive possess. And on the far side of the chamber, sitting upon a dais that rose nearly twenty feet from the main floor, were a set of seven chairs, evenly spaced from one another. No doubt a throne, but for seven chairs…and despite most being little more than piles of rubble, each was just as extravagant as the last. No more, no less. And below the main dais, spaced out amongst the pillars on lower platform, were thirty-three other seats that, while less extravagant than the ones one the highest dais, were still of high quality.

'I suppose what I read was true,' Nox thought as he took a single stepping into what he assumed was once the massive throne room of the Valyrian Freehold. 'Valyria wasn't rule by a single ruler. But rather by a set of Archons that oversaw the other dragonlords. Impressively forward of them. Almost like Volanits.'

Another step and Nox felt it. The unmistakable Force presence that he, and he alone, was uniquely qualified to deal with. "Stop," he commanded, holding out his hand and stopping the rest of the expedition from entering the hall. "Whatever you hear or see, none of you will take a single step into this hall until I say otherwise. Understood?"

There was mumbling from the expedition, but none dared question him. Especially after he sent a small bolt of lightning that struck the floor right near where Jon Snow had been about to step. "That means you as well, Jon," he said and then took his attention off the expedition and onto the hall before him. "You are not ready yet to deal with what is to come. And the rest of you, honestly, you'd just get in my way."

Walking into the middle of the room alone, Nox waited as he felt the familiar Force presence start to gather itself at what it felt to be an intruder. A loud cracking cut through the silence of Valyria, giving Nox more than ample opportunity to sidestep as one of the columns behind and off to his side broke loose from the floor and ceiling and flew towards him like a spear. Letting the projectile fly uselessly past him, he traced the ambient Force signature until he found what he was looking for.

"Oh, no, you don't," he grinned, holding his right hand out, his fingers curled inwards as if grasping onto something. "Time to reveal yourself, apparition."

A low moaning howl reverberated through Nox's very bones as light and dark mist materialized atop the tallest dais in front of the center chair. Within a heartbeat, where there was once nothing, a semi-translucent being appeared and immediately fell forward onto its hands and knees as it gasped desperately. "Impressive," Nox noted, lowering his hand having completed the first aspect of the Force Walking technique. "I did not realize that the Force sensitivity in this land had developed to the point where one could reject joining the Force after shedding their mortal coil…or did you?"

Watching curiously, Nox kept himself ready to act as the spirit rose to its knees and stared down dumbly at its hands. For a time, the spirit said nothing and did nothing as it just sat there, staring at itself as if trying to understand just what had happened. "How long?"

The question was simple, yet full of anguish. "Four hundred years, give or take a decade or two."

The apparition disappeared, only to reappear less than a few paces before Nox. "You…I know not what you did, yet for the first time since my death, my mind is clear," the ghost stated. "Yet I know not from where you hail. You are not Valyrian. Nor are you from any region of Essos. Sothoryos, perhaps? But your magic, Asshai?"

"Neither," Nox countered. "I am a wanderer with a particular set of skills that is far, far away from anywhere I would consider home."

The spirit seemed to accept that. "Then, perhaps, you would tell me…Did any of the dragon lords make it out?"

"No. All those that were within the city or even the peninsula died during what has now been called the Doom of Valyria," he answered, seeing no reason to beat around the bush with the spirit. In his experience, telling anything but the explicit truth to a spirit never really ended all that well for any party involved.

"Then our failure is complete," the spirit mourned, turning away sorrowfully. "I am Archon Dracequitem, leader of the Archons of the Valyrian Empire…or at least I was. Not much of an Empire now, is it? I would know the name of the man who gave me peace after so long, and his companions as well. They have no need to fear my losing control."

"Darth Nox," he introduced himself while motioning for the rest of the expedition to enter, which they did with no small amount of trepidation. After all, it wasn't every day that one has an encounter with an actual spirit of the dead, let alone one that belonged to a long lost dragonlord of Valyria. To be on the safer side of things, however, Nox carefully wove a barrier around Jon to protect his identity. The last thing he needed right now was for the spirit to recognize the ancestry in Jon and say something about it. "The 'Northern Sorcerer', as some have decided to call me. Currently in service to Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North."

"Stark?" the Archon stated, its attention shifting off Nox and onto the rest of the expedition that dared to approach, namely the Lords and Ladies that were with him, before settling on Jon. His attention focused on the pendant Jon wore on his chest that Ned had given him for his last name day. "You, boy. You wear the sigil of the Kings of Winter. Be you a son of the Starks?"

Jon, not expecting to suddenly be called upon, started. "Um, aye," he muttered. "I – I mean, I'm…I'm Lord Stark's bastard son."

"Bastard means nothing," the Archon replied dismissively. "You are a son of the Kings of Winter. That is all that—wait. You said, 'Lord Stark', not 'King Stark'. And you, sorcerer, referred to him as the 'Warden of the North'. Not the 'King of the North'. Why?"

"Fucking Targaryens, that's why," Small Jon spat, drawing the attention of the specter.

"The Targaryens? Why would those upstarts have anything to do with why the Kings of Winter no longer have their title?" the Archon asked, clearly curious.

"Because a hundred years after the fall of Valyria, Aegon Targaryen and his sister-wives took their dragons and conquered Westeros one kingdom at a time," Nox answered.

The spirit of the Archon stayed silent as he absorbed the information. "Ha. We must have greatly overestimated the strength of Westeros then if that pathetic House was able to conquer the whole continent with but three dragons. But how did the Targaryens managed to get the Kings of Winter to kneel? Did the next generation marry to solidify the alliance? Or did those idiotic fools continue their ill-advised practice of fucking within the family to keep their blood 'pure'?"

"No," Jon answered, his eyes downcast much like the rest of the northerners. "The King of the North at the time knelt to prevent his men from being bathed in dragon fire."

Deciding to head off more questions, Nox launched into an abridge history of the Seven Kingdoms from the time of Aegon the Conqueror to the fall of the Targaryen Dynasty. By the time he'd finished, the Archon's spirit had noticeably dimmed. "So, those fools not only failed in the one task they were given before setting out for Westeros, over the course of three hundred years they managed to lose their magic and their dragons. And now the last ember of Valyria now resides in two children on the run and alone in Essos. Pathetic." The Archon growled.

"What was the one task that was given to House Targaryen?" Nox asked as he started to struggle to keep the spirit solidified. They would have to make this quick. "As far as history states, House Targaryen left Valyria of their own accord after Daenys the Dreamer predicted the fall of Valyria to her family."

"And your history is only partially true," the Archon sighed. "This was not common knowledge, but with our Empire nothing more than dust on the pages of history, I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. But the dragon lords were losing their magic. Each subsequent generator being born progressively weaker in terms of magic. And because of this weakening, our holds on our dragons, our greatest strength, was weakening. Where normally a rider could last their lifetime before the mind of the dragon overtook their own, now a rider could only bind for a decade, maybe two, before the link had to be forcibly severed and transferred to a new rider."

Pausing, the Archon turned his back on the group and walked a few paces towards the dais before continuing. "Valyria grew strong not because we decimated or subdued our enemies but rather, we grew strong because we took what made our enemies strong and incorporated it into ourselves. Usually through marriage. A lesson the Targaryens failed to realize. As our powers began to decay, we recognized the need to bring new, powerful magic blood into the line of the dragon lords. And there was only one line that was considered that would be beneficial to us. The one line that kept an invasion of the Western continent from happening; the Kings of Winter, the Starks. We sent out the Targaryens with the hope that they would negotiate with the Kings of Winter for a bride that would become the wife to my son. And that through that union, we would create a new generation of dragon riders that were hopefully not as susceptible to pull of the dragon's mind. It was hoped that by going through marriage, we could avoid a repeat of the bloodshed that transpired when we tried to bring the Rhoynar under our rule and gain obtain their water magic."

"Wait," Prince Oberyn said, stepping forward and catching the attention of the specter. "You mean to say that the reason for the Second Spice War was because you wanted the magic of the Rhoynar? And you wanted to take the women and men as your…breeding stock?"

The specter nodded. "Yes. And for a time, it worked. The water magic of the Rhoynar helped to stabilize the fire that came from binding a dragon to a rider. We still lament that your ancestor, Nymeria, escaped our grasp. What an Archon of Valyria she would've made. But while the war was bloody and almost pointless as the ones who survived barely had any magic talent, it did teach us a valuable lesson. Which was why we decided to try a gentler hand with the Kings of the North." Sighing, the spirt shook his head. "But there was another idea that was brought forth at the same time by those who were not willing to wait. A blood ritual that would require the sacrifice of thousands to reignite our magic back to its former glory. But the idea was shot down due to the unpredictable and potentially violent nature of the ritual in question. However, it appears that we should have shut the notion down harder than we did."

Nox immediately connected the dots. "The one who proposed the ritual went ahead with it, anyway, didn't they?"

"Yes," the Archon nodded. "His plan was perfect. He waited until all the dragon lord families had gathered in the capital, and then he and his acolytes went into a ritual chamber within the Fourteen Flames and performed their sacrifice. The magical backlash from the sacrifices caused all the volcanos to become active and erupt nearly simultaneously. But that was only the first problem. The moment the ritual was completed, and the destruction began, those of us with sufficient power could sense the true purpose behind the ritual."

"The warlock, or sorcerer, or however you want to title him wanted to absorb the souls of not only those he sacrificed, but all of those in Valyria as well," Nox stated, surprising the Archon and drawing more than a few sharp looks from those around him.

"You are very knowledgeable, sorcerer," the archon nodded slowly.

"Amongst my people, I was the head of Ancient Knowledge and charged with the safeguarding of the secrets of my order," Nox replied. "And my people had a variation of the ritual you described. To our knowledge, it has only been successfully used once. And the effort it took to bring that bastard down is, well, let's just say you cannot imagine just what it took to bring an end to him."

"Yes, I can only imagine," the Archon nodded. "When his intent became clear, those of us with the power to do anything were left with a choice. Try and protect the lives of our people, or their souls."

"The barrier," Nox deduced. "It wasn't to keep anything out necessarily. It was to ensure that the one who did the ritual would not be able to claim the souls of the dead and thereby exponentially increasing his power."

The Archon again nodded. "You are correct. We were able to save the souls of our people, but we were not able to save their lives. The ritual… The sorcerer who performed it… It effected more than just the land. It affected our dragons as well. Severing the connections between rider and dragon, our beasts went feral and began attacking anything and everything that moved. Add to the destruction with the eruption of the Fourteen Flames, and it truly was the end of our great Empire."

Remaining silent, Nox gave the spirit a moment to compose itself. "While this will be of little comfort, I am here for the sole purpose of destroying the one that caused the Doom and brough an end to your people."

That got the spirit's attention. "I doubt that is your only purpose here, sorcerer," the Archon countered and sighed. "You seek the secrets of our people. Our steel. Our magic. And our gold."

"Yes," Nox nodded, not bothering to hide it. "The lost knowledge of your people can go a long way to advancing the world at large. And I am a sucker for lost knowledge you could say. And as for the gold and Valyrian steel, well, you can consider them payments for getting rid of the being that killed you and continues to haunt this land."

The spirit appeared to think it over. "Not like I can stop you. And I'd much rather our legacy and knowledge return to the world than rot." Turning, the Archon pointed towards the dais. "Upon the center chair in the base, there is a hidden chamber. Within is a key that will open the vault in the lower levels of the palace. It may take some work to reach the vault…but, within, you will find all that you seek. Our lost knowledge. Steel. And gold. It is yours…should you swear to me now that you will end the creature that caused our destruction."

"You have my word, Archon Dracequitem. The one who brought about the Doom shall not exist to torment you or your people any longer."

"Then I shall see if your word is good soon enough," the Archon said, accepting his oath. "But if you truly intend to end the one who did this…then you will need aid. For he will call forth his own companion, even from the grave, to fight against you."

"I'll take all the help I can get, Archon," Nox agreed. "Let's hear what you have to say."

Even with the light of nearly a dozen torches to help guide their way, Jon still had to squint into the darkened corridor to have even the slightest of hopes of seeing where they were heading. And he knew the others were having the same problem as he with the darkness. All except Master Nox of course. There were times when Jon truly envied the fact that his Master didn't need to use his eyes to see. Not that Jon would ever want to go without his eyes. But still, to be able to see the world around them as Master Nox did, even for a day, would be an experience.

"Alright," Small Jon growled, drawing attention to himself as Master Nox continue to lead them down through the lower levels of the palace, pausing only even now and then to clear debris from their path with Jon's help. "Am I the only one who thinks that us talking to a fucking ghost of a gods damned dragon lord was fucking…strange?"

Ahead of them, Master Nox chuckled as he moved yet another pile of debris, this time a section of wall the size of a carriage, out of their path with barely a flick of his wrist. "Finding and talking to the ghost of a four-hundred-year-old dragon lord doesn't even enter the top ten of strange shit that has happened in my life, Lord Umber."

"Ugh, forget I said anything then," Small Jon mumbled, holding his torch higher above his head to try and let the light shine farther. "Hells, how deep does this fucking place go? And the fuck is the damn vault that…ghost…thing…was talking about?"

"We haven't even gone that far down, Small Jon," Nox stated before stopping suddenly. "But to answer your question: right here."

Turning and facing the direction of his Master, Jon found himself facing a section of wall that was covered with multiple dragons that'd been etched into the black stone wall. Focusing through the Force, Jon could just barely make out the edges of what appeared to be a door and the vast room that lay beyond.

"So, this is the vault, huh?" Prince Oberyn half questioned as he stepped up and began running his fingers along the wall trying to find the edges of the door that was all but invisible. "I trust your judgement, sorcerer, but how do you intend to open this…door, without the key that ghost told us about?"

"This vault has been through earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and four hundred years of disuse, Prince Oberyn," Lord Nox lectured. "Do you really think the locking mechanism still works after all of that?"

"Fair point," Prince Oberyn agreed, stepping away. "Question still stands, though. How do you plan on opening the door?"

Merely giving a smirk in response, Lord Nox stepped back away from the section of wall and motioned for everyone else to do the same. Once clear, Nox raised his hand, palm towards the wall. Jon could feel the pressure building from the Force as the wall groaned loudly before something snapped and the section of wall jerked away from its holdings only to hover in the air for a moment or two before Nox carelessly tossed the door, its frame, and even sections of the wall off to the side.

It took a moment for Jon's eyes to adjust to the dim light, but as he got a good look within the vault, he felt his jaw just about hit the floor. The vault, although Jon wasn't sure if it truly deserved to be called that, was nearly the size of the great hall in Winterfell! And there were more shelves within the room than the Winterfell's library! And each shelf was full of jewels and books. And interspersed throughout all the shelves were manikins wearing armor that had the same distinctive Valyrian steel coloring. And there were also dozens, maybe even hundreds, of Valyrian steel weapons of just about every type Jon could name! Swords, spears, axes, maces, shields…name it and it was appeared to be in the vault and made of Valyrian steel. And that was just from what he could see from the entrance.

"Holy…Seven's hairy ball sack."

"Eloquent as always, my large friend." Prince Oberyn remarked, shooting the Small Jon a look out of the corner of his eye while keeping his attention firmly on the treasure before them. "But your point is well made."

"Well," Lord Nox called out, stepping into the vault. "What are you all waiting for? This is why you all came with me on this crazy adventure, is it not?"

The sailors, Lords, and Ladies did not need telling twice as they all rushed into the opened vault with such speed that Jon was sure there were dust clouds forming behind them. He could hear cheers coming from all the men and women as they pulled Valyrian steel weapons off the shelves, lifted Valyrian armor off manikins, and dug their hands through chests full of gold coins. A not so small part of Jon itched to join in with the revelry, but he resisted the impulse and stayed by his Master's side as Lord Nox calmly and slowly made his way between the shelves of the vault, all but ignoring the treasures around him.

"Tell me, acolyte, do you sense anything from within this room that resonates with you?"

The sudden question caught Jon off guard, especially as he had been staring longingly at a Valyrian hand-and-a-half blade that was nearly screaming for him to take it up. Forcing his attention away from the sword, Jon instead focused inwards before letting his senses flow out like ripples in a pond. "There's…There's something in that direction," he stated, pointing towards and frowning at the strange sensation.

"Very good," Lord Nox congratulated him as he led the two of them in the direction Jon had sensed the disturbance from.

In the end, it turned out to be a series of shelves twice as tall as Jon and spanning the length of five horses. And on each shelve, situated carefully with a holder, were gems nearly the size of his fist. If Jon thought the wealth that he saw at the entrance to the vault was something, this shelve completely outdid everything he'd seen so far. Granted, the only jewels he'd ever seen were the few gems and that decorated the necklaces and bracelets that were owned by Lady Stark. But none of those were any bigger than this thumb at best!

"Before you get the wrong idea, these are not diamonds, rubies, emeralds, or any other type of valuable stone. These are manmade crystals, forged in the heat of the Fourteen Flames or perhaps with the aid of dragon fire. But their worth is not material…but rather…that they are imbued with the Force. Hmm…I wonder. Just how advanced Force-wise were these Valyrian Dragon Lords?" Lord Nox cut in, raising his hand and using the Force to pull one of the crystals off the shelf so he could examine it.

Jon honestly didn't know what to make of the strange crystals. To him, they looked expensive, but that was about it. Sure, he could feel something…off about them when he focused on them through the Force. But that was it. His Master however, he was holding the crystals as if they were a newborn babe.

"Should have figured that a man of your tastes would forgo all the gold, jewels, and rare steel, and head straight over to the books. Although…considering what is before you…perhaps you do have an eye for valuables, no?"

Jon just barely managed to keep himself from jumping into action as Prince Oberyn came up to them. 'Force, I don't understand just how the Prince can do that!' Jon cursed at not having sensed the Prince of Dorne's approach. 'Master Nox says that he has some Force sensitivity, not enough to be trained like myself or the others. But he still has some skill. And that even without proper instruction, he'd managed to turn his slight Force-sensitivity to his advantage, which also help make him one of the most dangerous fighters in the world.'

"Not all valuable treasure can be measured in gold and jewels, Oberyn," Lord Nox said, seemingly not put off in the slightest at the Prince's sudden arrival. "In fact, I would argue that the treasure that cannot be measured in terms of monetary gain is the most valuable of all."

"Tell that to the others," Prince Oberyn smirked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder. "Small Jon has gone through four damn claymores. Each time he finds a bigger one, he discards the one he has and grabs the next one. I swear he's trying to compensate for something. The she-bear is scrounging through maces trying to find one she likes, and Asha is currently deciding between two different axes, though I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to claim both as her own."

"And I see that you didn't waste time, either."

Jon's eyes widened as he finally noticed the spear in the Prince's hand. One that he had not come ashore with. The pole was nearly as tall as the Prince and one end was adorned with a long-curved blade nearly the length of a man's arm with the other was topped with a spike. The blade and spike were both made of Valyrian steel and the pole had, if his eyes weren't deceiving him, Valyrian steel inlaid within the wood. "Yes," the Prince nodded, holding the spear aloft and admiring the weapon. "I have great plans for this beauty… Great plans, indeed."

"Plans that do not pertain to our current arrangement and can wait until we are clear of this land."

The Prince looked affronted as Lord Nox placed the crystal back on the shelf. "My dear sorcerer, revenge is like a sweet wine. One that is to be savored over a long period. Not rushed and gulped down in one go."

"I cannot argue with you on that point," Lord Nox shrugged, shocking Jon slightly with just how…sincere he sounded. "But there is a time and a place for such thoughts, and this is neither the time nor the place. We have work to do. All of us."

"True enough." Oberyn nodded, looking around the vast darkened room. "Even if we load each of the boats to the point where they nearly submerge themselves, I doubt we will even be able to take a quarter of what is in here."

"At best," Lord Nox agreed as Jon moved himself back away from the two men. "I need youto assemble the men into two groups. The first is to start locating chest, trunks, sacks; whatever they can find and begin collecting things from the vault. As tempting as it might sound to them, gold takes the least priority here. There are things far more valuable in this vault and the gold will just weigh us down. The second group will scavenge the docks to try and find anything that might be seaworthy or working to make something seaworthy. We only get one shot at taking as much from here as we can. Once we reach the Sea Wolf, we will not be returning to this land. At least not for some time."

Prince Oberyn seemed confused, as did Jon if he were being honest. "Two things, sorcerer. Why would we leave such a large amount of treasure behind? It may take some time to transfer all of this to your ship, but surely now that you know the route through the waterway and we are aware of the dangers, such a return trip will not be as difficult as the first?"

Master Nox didn't answer immediately as he held the Prince of Dorne in a sightless stare, one that Jon had been under more than a few times during his tutelage. And just like Jon, it did not take long for even the Prince of Dorne to begin fidgeting uncomfortably. "Tell me, Oberyn, do you remember the first man who died on this expedition?"

Jon swallowed hard as the memory came back to him. "Of course," the Prince nodded. "He started ranting about hearing some maiden's song and jumped off the boat and got swallowed whole by that massive sea turtle."

"And since that time, I have been actively shielding your mind, as well as the minds of everyone else that is with us." Master Nox said, making the Prince of Dorne blink and raise a hand to his head. "The land itself is tainted. That man did not suddenly go mad, nor was he just hearing things. His mind was the weakest of the bunch and therefore the easiest to manipulate, and that led to his death. Since then, I have been shielding all your minds to prevent such an occurrence from happening again. But such a thing is taxing, and none of us are immune, not even Jon nor me. Given enough time in this land, all of us will go mad and attack one another just as has happened to every other expedition that has been launched in the past. Which is another reason why I am so interested in the Lannister we recovered. His mind, despite spending a year in this place, is still relatively intact. Such a phenomenon must be observed carefully and studied. And then there is the dangers we faced coming here. Again, the only reason why we were not attacked more frequently is because of my, and to a lesser extend Jon's, presence. And while you might not have realized it due to the lack of sun, it took us several days of rowing upriver to reach this port. And there were multiple channels and divergent streams that we could easily turn down that would lead us to our doom. So, having said all that Prince Oberyn, is your want of adventure so great that you are ready and willing to risk such a venture multiple time over?"

"Your point is…well made," Prince Oberyn agreed after only a moment's hesitation to think on what Lord Nox had said. "But to the second point, this is your expedition, sorcerer. Why do I have to be the one to organize the tedious part of it?"

"Because Jon and I both have tasks of our own that we need to see to," Lord Nox replied, making Jon start. "And of everyone here, I trust a learned man like yourself to understand the difference between items of true value and those that only give the illusion of value."

"Well," Prince Obery said slowly, drawing himself up so he stood taller. "When you put it like that…I guess I have my work ahead of me then. Good luck on…whatever crazy agenda you and that young boy have planned, sorcerer. I'll make sure to hold the boats until you return. Don't want to leave without our shield, after all."

The moment the Prince of Dorne left them alone, Jon immediately turned on his mentor. "Lord Nox, are…are we going after the one who caused the Doom?"

"I am," Lord Nox nodded, casting one last glance towards the crystals lining the wall. "You, however, will not. I have a different task in mind for you. A Trial, so to speak. Should you succeed, then you will officially become my apprentice, Jon Snow."

Jon stared dumbly at his mentor as his mind tried to process what he'd just been told. When he first started training himself and Robb, he had explained the ranks of the Sith and Jedi Orders with the best approximate comparisons that Westeros had of each level. An acolyte could be considered a page, an apprentice a squire, a Lord of the Sith a knight. And if one were to reach the rank of Darth, then they would be comparable to the Kingsguard. 'Apprentice, Lord Nox's squire…How many would do anything to have such and honor…and it is almost mine!'

"What is my task, my Master?"

Motioning for Jon to follow, Nox led the two of them towards the exit of the vault. Jon's fingers itched to grab hold of some of the Valyrian steel weapons and armor that the others were going through, but he fought that impulse and focused on following Lord Nox. And it was a good thing that he had, as his Master had begun talking to him just as they were passing by the others. "The spirit of that fallen archon had stated that there will be something we need in the fight to come. Something that will help to firmly tilt the scales of battle in our favor. You are going to collect this item while I go and confront the one who brought about the Doom. And you will do so alone. Succeed, and you will earn your place as my official apprentice."

Listening carefully, Jon committed every word his Master said as to just what his task would entail.

As he descended through the darkness into the depths of Valyria, Nox let his hand run across the wall of corridor while feeling every inch he could through the Force. The familiar cold, the despair of the dark side, increasing with each step he took. Letting his head lull to the side, he took a moment to bask in the familiar cold, the hatred, the anger. It was disconcerting. But at the same time soothing in a familiar way. For it was in the darkness, alone, that Nox was made. In the deep of the mines belonging to his first master while he was still but a slave boy. For a long time, and even now, the darkness was all he knew. His time with Ashara, with Nyra, had given him a taste of the light. A taste he thoroughly enjoyed. But the darkness would always be his home.

His journey to this cavern was not easy nor quick. The Fourteen Flames were a fair distance from the actual city of Valyria. And seeing as how there were no rivers for his to boat down nor any creatures easily available for him to ride, he was stuck walking. Or rather running. And even then, after reaching the base of the Fourteen Flames, many of which had been destroyed during the massive eruptions four centuries earlier, finding the ritual chamber was not simple. Although, that wasn't necessarily true. It was easy to find the general location of the ritual chamber given the heavy concentration of dark side energy surrounding it but getting there was difficult considering he had to remove centuries of rocks and landscape that'd covered the entry way. And if that wasn't bothersome enough, the land around Valyria seemed to have become infested with strange slug-like creatures that reminded him greatly of Kor'slugs from Korriban. Troublesome, pack-ambush hunters, and vicious against anything that entered their territory.

Feeling the ground leveling out under his feet, Nox found himself before a towering set of stone double doors that were nearly three times his own height and, judging by the feel of the door beneath his fingertips, covered in runes of varying styles though there was a distinct lack of Force presence within the runes. Meaning they were more for show than anything else. 'Although from what I've seen of these dragon lords, I shouldn't be surprised. They did seem to adore showing status, even if all their posturing meant next to nothing in the grand scheme of things.'

Letting his hand fall, Nox went for the simplest means of opening the heavy doors. Which was by throwing them open with a Force Push hard enough to knock them off their hinges and fall inwards. Stepping into the ritual chamber, Nox could immediately feel the pressing weight of the dark side that was not his own press down in his mind, trying to dominate his very being as the lost soul that died in this chamber centuries ago cried out in agony and pain. Lessening his shielding on those that came with him, Nox reinforced his own mind and kept striding into the middle of the darkened circular ritual room. "Trying to dominate my mind already, tsk tsk… Not a very good way to make a first impression."

The darkness pressing on his mind receded slightly. "Who…are…you?" A disembodied voice reverberating in the dark side called out to him.

Holding his hand aloft, Nox waited with the patience of a fisherman as he searched the room for his prey. Feeling something brush by the edges of his power, Nox closed his hand, grabbing the presence in a Force Binding and forcing it to the ground before him. "Ah! What have you done?" the presence screamed as Nox contained the entity, forcing the miasma that encompassed the being to condense, forming into the shape of a man that could make even the withered husk seem attractive in comparison.

"Sorry about that." Nox shrugged as the being tried to disembody itself again, only to find it unable to do so. "Yeah, that's not going to work anymore. See, I prefer being able to talk face to face and eye to eye with an individual. Well, maybe not so much 'eye to eye', but you get my drift."

The pressure on his mind increased as the entity tried to push its influence. "Who are you?" the entity screamed as the pressure continued to increase, making Nox want to submit. "You are no Dragon Lord! Yet you stand before me like you think you are my equal! Submit! And tell me your name!"

When Nox had first left Korriban, that might've worked. But that was neither here nor there. He was now older and far wiser than the naive apprentice he was when under Darth Zash. During the short trip to the ritual chambers from the Archon's Throne, Nox had been preparing his mind for what he would face. And now the pressure was more of an annoyance than anything. Obviously, this creature had never had to deal with one on equal terms.

Sighing, Nox rolled his neck. "You mind stopping with the whole influencing shit? You can't influence me, no matter how much you try. I've had more than enough time to prepare myself for the likes of you."

The pressure increased tenfold as the entity launched one last mental assault at him. But the thing might as well have been throwing rocks at an Imperial Cruiser for all the good its attack did. "Hmm, interesting." The entity hummed, the pressure slowly ceasing. "You have power…but you are no dragon lord. You are lowborn, are you not? How pathetic must the times have come that the lowborn are the ones who are born with power? …Wait, no. You cannot be lowborn. You must come from a line of dragon lords… Could it be…It is. You are a descendant from the Targaryen upstarts, are you not? You have the look of one, despite not having any eyes to for me to see."

"I'm not a descendent from that incest ridden family," Nox denied, waving the suggestion off. "And as for being 'lowborn', I guess you can say I am. After all, I was born a slave before I broke my chains and made a name for myself."

"A slave?!" the entity shouted. "A slave dares to stand before a god of the dragon lords as if he is my equal?! I will smite you to all the hells for your blasphemy!"

Nox felt the buildup of power as clear as day. 'Primitives. No subtlety at all. They get the tiniest taste of true power and suddenly they think they are gods. How pathetic.' Rolling his wrist, Nox waited as the entity collected a whirling vortex dark side energy between its hands. As the vortex reached a critical mass, the entity threw it at Nox. Standing his ground, his hair and clothes fluttering against the wind created from the vortex, he waited until the attack was almost at him and then raised his hand and backhanded the sphere of energy away and into the wall where it dissipated with barely a flutter.

"Really? That's all you got?" he asked, shaking the minor sting out of his hand. "How pathetic. I didn't even need to exert myself at all to knock that pathetic attack away. Now, let me show you a true attack."

Force Lightning leapt forth from his fingertips. Traversing the distance between them in a blink of an eye and catching the entity full in the chest. The being didn't even have time to cry out as the lightning broke the entity down at the near-molecular level and disintegrating the body. A body which quickly began to reform the instant his attack ceased.

Across from him, the newly reformed entity began laughing. "Hahaha! Not bad, slave. That tickled! Hahaha, tell me, what is your name, slave? Perhaps I won't kill you, after all. No, one of your power deserves more than to just die. Instead, I will take you on as my disciple! Yes, you will be the disciple to the newly reborn Balerion! God of Valyria! Kneel, slave! And accept your new place at my si-"

Another blast of force lightning and the so-called god was once again destroyed. "Sorry, did I break your concentration?" Nox asked rhetorically as the would-be god reformed itself. "I must say, your definition of godhood must be severely lacking if you can consider yourself a 'god'. At best, I would consider you a lich. But, in reality, you are nothing more than a wound, a blight in the Force. One that I intend to cleanse."

Once fully reformed, the so-named Balerion tried to retaliate with an attack of his own, only for Nox to once again casually grab the attack with his bare hand and throw it back at the Wound, once again causing it to dissipate. "It seems we are at an impasse, slave," Balerion growled as he reformed yet again. "Your power is indeed incredible. I will even grant you the honor of staying that your power might even be near equal to my own. But that will not help you here. For I cannot die! How many times must I say it before you finally realize the futi-"

Crossing the distance between them, Nox snapped his lightsaber into his right hand, slashing across the entities chest as he passed him by, cutting him in two. "I should've expected as much from a slave. No class at all." Balerion sighed as the wound bisecting him healed over. "Your magic has failed you, so you resort to brute strength. How dull. But if this is the way you wish to die, then I will oblige your request."

Feeling a sensation through the Force, Nox leaned back just in time to have a sword pass by where his neck had been. Grasping the hand and a half sword out of the air, Balerion gave it a few experimental swings before settling into a stance. "It has been sometime since I held Dragon's Lament in my hand… Even longer since I quenched her thirst for slaves' blood. Yours shall suffice. But you will not die. No, you will have to suffer first. I believe I'll cut off your hands and feet. Then make you watch as I kill those you came with one by one as you sit there powerless to-"

"Spare me the bullshit doom and gloom," Nox interrupted with an annoyed sneer. "I care not for grandstanding. But if you are so sure in your victory, tell me something. How many slaves did you and your acolytes sacrifice here in this room to start your ritual?"

Balerion seemed taken aback by the abrupt change. His very being screaming his curiosity as it tried to piece together Nox's thought process for asking such a question. "A thousand," Balerion finally answered. "A thousand souls to bring forth their new god. My six acolytes were nearly bathing in their blood by the time they finished."

"And you of course told your acolytes that you would be sharing the power amongst yourself and them," Nox stated. "And they, foolishly, believed you and went along. Right up to the point where you turned the tide on them and killed them to act as the catalyst for your ritual. A ritual which brought about the Doom of Valyria."

"The 'Doom of Valyria'? No, I saved Valyria!" Balerioin shouted. "The foolish Archons believed that they knew the path forward! But they were blind! They could only see what they had! Not what they could become! The Dragon Lords had grown stagnant, our Empire faltering. New power was needed. A rebirth! The others couldn't see what I could! The old had to be burned away to make way for the new! A new empire! Ruled over by the God of Valyria reborn!"

"Yet that didn't happen. Your ritual failed." Nox cut in coldly. "I recognize what you were trying to accomplish here. You weren't after just the souls of these thousand slaves and your acolytes. No. You wanted to absorb the souls of all Valyria. Yet that didn't happen. You managed to destroy Valyria, yes. But like all who get a taste of true power, you didn't have a clue of what you were doing. And because of that, the ritual failed in allowing you to gain control of those who lost their lives. And not only did you fail in that regard, you also failed in containing the thousand souls sacrificed here in this chamber. Even now they are fighting within you, not allo—"

Ducking, Nox spun out of the way of the Valyrian steel blade that meant to cut him down. Pushing off the ground with his left hand while parallel to the ground, Nox spun in a tight roll, his lightsaber cutting through the back of Balerion as he quickly put distance between the two of them. "If you're going to try and launch a surprise attack while your opponent is speaking, you are going to have to do a lot better job than that. You were practically screaming your intent well before you even began shifting your weight to strike at me."

Whole once more, Balerion turned to him. "You think you know me, slave?! You think you know what happened during my ascension… You are nothing more than a foolish slave who does not deserve to breathe the same air as one as divine as myself!"

"Fuck, make up your mind already!" Nox cursed. "First you want to kill me. Then you want to make me your acolyte or prophet or whatever. And now you're back to wanting me dead. Make a decision and stick with it already, will you?!"

Letting out a cry, Balerion launched a flurry of overhead attacks in quick succession. Back peddling, Nox didn't bother blocking as he merely shifted his weight ever so slightly from left to right to avoid each downward blow. The moment Balerion overextended, Nox struck, slicing through the being's wrists and severing them before striking upwards, cutting through Balerion's neck and retreating to the far side of the chamber.

Twirling his lightsaber, Nox waited once more for Balerion to reform. "Well, I guess we're going to be at this all day, aren't we?" he asked rhetorically. "At least we'll finally be able to answer the age-old question of what happens when an immovable object meets an unstoppable force."

Rolling his head, Balerion let out a crude crackling laugh that echoed throughout the chamber. "You still haven't learned yet, slave? I cannot be killed! The only question that will be answered today is how long you will keep up this charade until I kill you."

Tightening his hold on his lightsaber, Nox settled into his Form III stance. "You can't die yet, that's true… But that's simply because I'm not ready to lose such an interesting opponent. But mark my words: before I leave this land, you will meet your end. 'God' of Valyria."