Dorne, Red Mountains
Year 115 BC (Before Aegon Conquest)
Neferion
Although Dorne itself resembled Hammerfell more in climate and terrain than Cyrodiil, most Dornishmen were rather similar in appearance to Imperials, and only those inhabiting the most desolate and hot south of the principality were darker-skinned, more reminiscent of Redguards.
Yet another distinctive group were the Dornishmen living in and around Red Mountain, including the Yronwoods, Daynes, Manwoody and Fowlers, who had slightly lighter complexions and often even blond hair.
What all Dornishmen had in common was undoubtedly their more relaxed approach to life and the teachings of the Faith. But despite their shared cultural traits, from what he had learnt and observed, the people of Dorne, regardless of appearance, while they were remarkably similar in many aspects, also had visible divisions, mainly resulting from the regions they inhabited.
He suspected this was largely due to the fact that, unlike the other kingdoms of Westeros, the Martells were relatively new rulers of Dorne, having united it with the aid of the Rhyonars led by Nymeria less than 700 years ago.
The former royal houses had caused problems from time to time, but the most prominent among them was House Yronwood, who had still not come to terms with the fact that they had to submit to the much younger and lesser House Martell.
The journey by ship took them just over eight days, so he tried to use that time to gather more information about Dorne itself and Westeros as a whole. He spoke with sailors, guards, and maids, listening to the stories, myths, and rumours circulating among the smallfolk. However, of course, he spent the most time with Princess Nymeria, who would preferably not leave his side at all if she could.
Not that he was complaining; anyone would have preferred the company of a beautiful woman over the sailors and guards, who, in their own way, treated him with caution and suspicion.
He saw the respect they held for him, as news of the slaying of the Sandtower Beast had already spread throughout the capital and beyond, but his exotic appearance and rumours of magical origins for his powers didn't help him.
He hoped his reputation in Dorne and all of Westeros would soon rise, especially since he had generously paid several bards, sending them to Dorne to speak of him and sing songs of his valour.
It was better to create in the minds of the people an image of a brave and helpful hero than to allow them, or worse, the septons, to call him a demonspawn or an evil sorcerer of Asshai.
That's all, though; it didn't seem to bother Nymeria; in fact, she constantly bombarded him with questions, trying to determine if he actually possessed any magic.
Overall, the journey was uneventful, except for a brief exchange of archery with a ship bearing the Estermont of the Stormlands colours, but it quickly fled, and Nymeria forbade following it.
Thus, he found himself at Seagull Rock, a small port in Yronwood's lands, bidding farewell to the princess. They planned to split up there. She and her entourage would head for Yronwood Keep, while he planned to follow the trail through the mountains straight to the mines.
He still doubted whether it had been a wise decision for Nymeria to arrive with such a weak escort in her vassal's territory, when that vassal's loyalty was sorely questioned.
However, he was in no position to question the ruler of Dorne's decisions, especially since her uncle himself hadn't been able to dissuade her. Neferion had to admit one thing: the princess knew how to get her way.
The lands surrounding Yronwood were exceptionally fertile and green, stretching all the way to the foothills of the mountains, which were also initially covered in forests, before the higher peaks transformed into the more rugged, treeless red rocks rising above Dorne.
Initially, his journey was quite pleasant. There was no rain, and the sun wasn't blazing—he'd say the weather was perfect for hiking. And indeed, he and Spring enjoyed the surrounding world, taking their time, stopping frequently to admire the views and simply enjoy the peace and freedom of the road.
They passed only one village along the way, while two others seemed deserted, which he understood was due to the fact that people had abandoned them to escape the beast that was spreading terror in these areas. Although it had moved further south toward the mines, the mere knowledge of its existence kept people closer to the river and the coast.
In any case, Neferion was in his element. On the road, seeking adventure. But like all beautiful things, it must come to an end. On the second day of their journey, having seen no living soul for the past few hours, he sensed a presence on the road miles behind them, entering the range of his inhuman senses.
One person approaching rather quickly, galloping, probably on horseback, which was unwise, especially since the track here was rather uneven and rocky. It was easy for the mount to break a leg. A moment later, the scent of a rider he recognised reached him on the wind.
With a sigh, Neferion scanned the area. Finding a small clump of trees around a small pond perhaps half a mile away, he set off. Once there, he patted Spring on the neck, saying, "We'll stop here, girl."
He swiftly dismounted, unsaddled the snow-white mare, and led her into the shade of a small grove. Then he began preparing camp.
About an hour later, as the sun was just beginning to set, he lay leaning against a tree, hiding in its shadow. Two hares were roasting over a blazing fire, and Spring was enjoying her break, grazing on grass near the water.
For several minutes, Neferion had been listening to the clatter of hooves on the rocky path, now a more leisurely trot. A few minutes later, his mount stopped on the road, and after a moment's hesitation, it moved toward him, stopping only a few feet away.
With a sigh, he opened his eyes, his gaze falling on a mounted figure, framed by a well-made cream cloak and a hooded face.
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "Isn't that cloak too hot for you, princess?" he asked with amusement, to which the stranger, with obvious irritation, pulled back the hood, revealing Nymeria's sweaty and embarrassed face.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked, looking at him with fire in her eyes, but after a moment she looked away, and he only laughed.
Deep inside, however, he felt like tearing his hair out. He could only imagine what madness could have driven her to follow him, and for what purpose? And what had become of her entourage? Honestly, he didn't even want to think about it.
He glanced at the young woman, who had gracefully dismounted, and with a bit more steel in his voice, he replied, "I smelt you from miles away. Now tell me, what are you doing here?"
But she probably only heard the first part of his words, because she blushed slightly and replied in an indignant voice.
"You smelt me from miles away? Do I stink that much? ... If you want to know, these are not words any woman wants to hear."
Neferion took a deep breath and patiently replied, "I have an exceptionally good sense of smell and could detect anyone from this distance... and no, you don't smell bad. I'd even say I like your perfume. Lilac and gooseberry, if I'm not mistaken?"
Nymeria blushed slightly, then muttered, avoiding his gaze, "It's my favourite."
Neferion, feeling alarmed and seeing that all this was heading in an undesirable direction, decided to return to the most important question.
"What are you doing here, princess?" he asked, standing up and towering over her, staring at her with a serious gaze. "This is no joke. The roads are dangerous for a young woman, especially one accustomed to palace life."
She was clearly irritated by his words, but she bit her tongue and then replied with feigned calm, "If you're wondering, I have experience travelling on the roads. I've spent dozens of miles on the road many times with my father and brothers and even camped in the wilderness."
"Probably surrounded by dozens of guards," he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache began to build. "That's different."
Hearing him, she smiled triumphantly. "Are you saying I can't feel safe in your presence? A powerful monster slayer, a mighty warrior from distant lands, can't protect a single woman? Am I wrong about you, dear Neferion?"
He sighed inwardly. He saw her playing him, but he knew him well enough to know that his greatest weakness was his own ego, which had already been sizeable since his youth, like that of every Altmer, and grew even larger with each Dovah soul he consumed.
Admitting weakness or the inability to do something wasn't in his nature. He knew it wasn't rational, but such words simply wouldn't come to him.
After a long moment of silence, he finally spoke, moving toward the blazing fire. She followed him. "You understand that you're putting yourself in danger. We don't know what kind of beast prowls these mines."
"I might not be able to fight it and protect you at the same time," he added, though he felt he was stretching the truth a bit, as he had no doubt that with the thu'um he could handle any situation. There was still a risk that the stupid dragon would awaken again, but he preferred to avoid that.
Nymeria, as if unaware of his words, tied her grey mare to a tree and began to undress her tack as if nothing had happened. He began to wonder if this is a good idea.
Seeing his lack of reaction, Nymeria apparently decided to finally speak up, for she looked at him over her shoulder and said, "Don't worry. I may not be the best spear master in Dorne, but I know how to use a spear and bow more than well. I've been training since I was six."
Hearing this, Neferion glanced at her, her mount, and then at her pack, then, to her obvious irritation, burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?"
He controlled his laughter and replied, "I don't question your skills, but I have one question... Where are your spear and bow?"
After these words, he gave her a pointed look, and she opened her mouth to respond but then closed it again, blushing again, a colour that was clearly visible despite her olive complexion.
Finally, she replied with a mixture of embarrassment and anger, "You think it was easy for me to slip away? How was I supposed to smuggle a spear and a bow? I only managed to grab a dagger and a short sword."
"Aha, I got you!" he exclaimed, pointing at her triumphantly. "You did slip away after all. Don't you think all of Dorne will be looking for you now? And what happened to your retinue and guards?"
"They're sailing back to Dorne, with a sealed letter for my uncle, explaining everything."
Neferion couldn't help but ask, "Have you even been to Yronwood? I have a feeling you planned this all along in that pretty little head of yours."
Nymeria smiled faintly, and he saw a glint of pride and satisfaction in her eyes. "Of course I planned this all along. Why don't you think I sent you on the first available ship? And as for the Yronwoods, I wasn't even going to set foot there. It's too risky... There's no telling how far they'd go in their arrogance."
Neferion raised a slight eyebrow, and his face and voice were full of disbelief, "But hasn't it occurred to you that travelling alone through their lands is just as risky? So far, I get the impression the only overconfident person here is you, Princess."
"It may have been risky, but it worked," she replied. "Do you know how long he tried to get out of the palace? And I don't mean the place itself or the duties, but the stares. Wherever I stepped, whatever I did, someone was always there, watching. The maid, the guard, the stable boy, the cook, my uncle's spies."
Neferion sighed inwardly. He knew perfectly well that this could be a nuisance in the long run. After all, it was one of the reasons he had never seriously considered trying to seize the Ruby Throne. He valued his freedom and liberty too much.
Why would he tie himself to a throne when the whole world was open to him?
"But what about Dorne?" He couldn't help but wonder, "Who will rule in your absence?"
"My uncle. It's all in the letter, and it's not like I'm disappearing for long. I think dealing with the monster won't be a problem for you. We should return to Sunspear within the moon."
"Has it occurred to you, Princess," he asked with a hint of irony in his voice, "that I wasn't planning on returning to Sunspear, but rather sending you, for example, a letter confirming the beast's slaying and then setting off on my journey?"
Nymeria frowned, looking at him now. "You weren't planning on returning?"
He shrugged. "Probably not, at least not right away. I was planning on exploring this entire continent first, so I'd probably return later... You know, no one builds their legend by sitting still. A beast to kill here, a village to save from bandits there, pirates to defeat somewhere else, and then after dinner, saving the world."
Feeling her disbelieving gaze on him, he winked at her for emphasis, to which she merely shook her head in resignation. "It doesn't matter now." She said, "You can set off on your journey from the capital later; a fortnight of additional travel won't change anything.
"Now I wouldn't mind something to eat," she added, looking pointedly at the roasting hares.
Knowing he couldn't send her away without risking harm, he gestured with an open hand toward the fire. "Well then, Your Highness. Help yourself."
She nodded slightly with a smile. "Call me Nymeria," she said. "This whole 'princess' and 'Your Highness' thing would be a nuisance on the journey."
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Westeros, Somewhere north of the Wall
Year 115 BC
Three-Eyed Crow
His visions grew more blurred and chaotic with each passing day, and every attempt to glimpse future events ended in failure.
The future had become too fluid, uncertain, yet still predictable. However, he couldn't say how long it would remain so. Something had changed; unforeseen factors had begun to affect his greensight.
Unfamiliar sounds began to influence the Song, disrupting its rhythm. He had to determine their cause and then deal with it one way or another.
Everything had to unfold as they had predicted. Any change could result in complete destruction and the end of everything. An Eternal Night of all-consuming cold and death.
So he closed both eyes again and opened the third... then they came. Visions... Eternal Cold and the Undying Flame. And between them, a shadowy figure. Yes... A Song of Ice and Fire.