12th Month of 288 A.C. Various Locations
Prince Oberyn Martell
King's Landing and its ghosts no longer completely haunted Oberyn as much as they used to. True he did still sometimes catch himself looking for Elia or her babes at night. But more often than not, he know spent the time he was not required to be gathering information with his girls. He and Ellaria were something more than just lovers, there was a deeper connection there, something Oberyn had only seen with his father and mother, and he wondered if perhaps it would be lasting with Ellaria, he certainly hoped so. Their daughters were all growing up very fast, the sand snakes as he had taken to calling them were all proving to be a force to be reckoned with and he had found much to his shock and sometimes loathing were very good at gathering secrets Tyene and Sarella in particular.
Of course there were times when his job made him stay up at night with worry. He worried over whether or not something from his line of work or his past would come back to harm his girls, he desperately hoped not. One part of his job involved travelling places and gathering information. It was something he was surprisingly good at, and of course the one place where the lord regent had wanted him to go was the Stepstones. The islands were in relative peace for a change, the men left in command were doing a good job of ensuring that the various factions that lived on the islands did not try to fight and kill one another. Oberyn was impressed there was little to report to the crown, and so from there orders had come for him to go to Tyrosh to assess the situation there.
And so that was how he found himself sat in some tavern with shady light and bad company, and of course the man before him had brownish hair and a drunken look to him. "Now have you gotten the information I require of you?" Oberyn asks.
The man takes a deep sip of his ale and says. "Yes my prince. I know the true source of the Archon's heritage and of course I now know where the magister is as well."
Oberyn looks at the man. "Now then what information do you have for me, and please ensure that it is true this time."
The man is silent and then he says. "The Archon comes from the Calla Blackfyre, daughter of Daemon Blackfyre and her husband Bittersteel, their lineage is much more prolific through the Free Cities than anyone had first thought. Their descendants hold power in some four of the free cities and now this Archon holds power, and though he does not bear the name Bittersteel he harbours the same ambitions as his forefathers."
"And what do these ambitions entail?" Oberyn asked.
"He wants what he believes to be the true dynasty restored to the throne. He wishes to see his ancestors put back on that chair with the barbs. This alliance with the current king on the throne is nothing but a ruse. When the time is right he will break the alliance and declare for his cousins." The man responds.
Oberyn looks at the man for a long time and then asks. "Are you certain of this? The last of that line died on the Stepstones there are none left who have a true claim based on the succession laws of the throne."
His source looks at him then a crooked grin on his face. "Ah but my prince, you see this is a new regime. What is there to say that the man has not changed the succession laws. After all technically it should be Prince Viserys who is the king. There is more in the secrets of the Red Keep than just cells and vaults."
"What more is there? And how do you know?" Oberyn asks.
"I hear things whilst in the Archon's palace my prince. He speaks frequently with those who know the secrets of the Red Keep and the Iron Throne. That letter they are looking for is not the only thing that was of interest to them. I believe they are trying to change the succession laws of the throne." The man responds.
Oberyn is stunned by this revelation. "How are they going to try to do that? For some nearly one hundred and fifty years the succession laws have been somewhat clear. There is nothing for them to change."
His source merely grins at him before taking another swig of ale. "There is more to this than meets the eye my prince. It seems the Archon is working with someone at court to undermine the Regent's laws and his plans. Regardless sooner or later the alliance between Tyrosh and the Iron Throne shall come to an end."
"And yet the Archon does not have the means with which to support himself and Tyrosh without aid from the throne. Lys and Myr will not side with him anymore. How does he hope to support himself and his city?" Oberyn enquired
"There are allies deeper down the coastline who attend to his needs. They are the ones who will be providing for him. The resources they have taken from plunder and loot during their travails. Krakens I believe you call them in Westeros." The man responds.
This is the second piece of news to stun Oberyn. "But the krakens are tamed now. The Lord Regent made sure of that. Unless of course this is no ordinary Kraken?"
The man smiles. "Good you are not slow my prince. Yes this kraken has what you Westerosi would call a crow for an eye. He has begun trading with the Archon in secret. Providing news and information on certain things. It is through him that the Archon hopes to begin his campaign."
Oberyn nods filing away this information and then asks. "You said you know where the Magister is. Well where is he?"
The man stands then and says. "Come with me and I shall show you."
Surprised Oberyn stands then and follows the man to the doorway of the tavern. He remains silent as they walk out of the tavern though he does put his hood up. They walk through the streets of Tyrosh, some long and winding, others narrow and short. All of them bustling with life, there might be a new Archon in power who is looking to bring the place down to its knees, but the people will always continue to go on about their business. They begin an ascent to a steep hill and Oberyn grits out. "How much further?"
"Not much further my prince. Just up at the top of this hill and then we are there." his source responds good naturedly.
As they begin reaching the top of the hill, Oberyn begins feeling slightly out of breath, he is not entirely sure why. He has ensured that he is not out of shape, his job would not allow such a thing and yet here he is beginning to breathe heavily. Eventually they reach the top of the hill and Oberyn is glad for that, his breath is coming out in sharp, harsh gasps and it is beginning to unsettle him. But of course they do not stop, they continue walking towards the manse, which is decorated with silver and gold.
They reach the outside of the manse and there they find a man dressed in orange and gold, with a forked beard standing waiting for them. "Ah good, you have come." The man says.
Oberyn looks at his source then and asks. "He too has come to find the magister?" his suspicions are beginning to grow now, something is going on.
The man with the forked beard responds. "Oh no my good man, I am the magister that you are looking for am I not?"
Oberyn looks at his source and gets ready to curse when his source says. "I am sorry my prince but this was the only way I could ensure that he did not do anything."
Oberyn looks at his source with something akin to disgust, forcing the man with the forked beard to laugh. "Oh come now my prince, do not look so disgusted. The man did as you asked, he has brought you here to my home. And now I believe there is something you wished to ask me is there not?"
Oberyn looks at the man and asks. "Who are you truly? I know you are not just some cheese monger. There is more to you."
The man with the forked beard claps his hands then. "Ah very good. Straight to the point I very much like you. You are correct in assuming I am not just some cheese monger. And whilst I confess cheese is most definitely a growing industry, it does not hold my interest as much as this does. For you see I am the descendant of a man who fought long and hard to see justice done."
"Bittersteel." Oberyn says more to himself than anyone else.
"Oh yes, you see, my family has spent many years in exile and now we are coming out from the darkness." The magister responds.
"You will not get very far. None in Westeros remember you or your family. Your ancestor is used as an example of greed gone too far. Why should anyone support you?" Oberyn snarls.
He can hear his heart beating in his ears now. The magister smiles.
"Lies brought forward to prevent the truth from coming forward. But you already know the truth don't you my prince? You served alongside one of our most trusted generals and learnt many truths from him. Why it would seem some might even consider you a true loyalist with some of your actions." The magister responds.
"You are trying to confuse me and it will not work." Oberyn snaps. "I am not a green boy."
"Ah but by the way your breathing is slowly becoming heavier, you know you have not much time. And with you gone, on a mission for the throne more chaos shall be sown. Accept it my prince, your time is done. You can see your sister and her children now." The magister says.
"I will kill you first." Oberyn manages to sputter out, he staggers forward and then falls to his knees.
The magister laughs. "I think not my prince. Soon enough you will sleep and never waken again. There will be no more pain and no more suffering for you."
Oberyn looks at the man before him, his vision getting steadily more blurry. "Why…" he chokes out.
"Because you took something from me, something that was very precious and because killing you means that there will be more tension in Westeros. The lion and the sun now will be looking for more means to remove one another. And the wolf will struggle to cope now without you there." the magister responds.
Oberyn tries to talk but all that comes out is a gurgling noise. His mind is scrambling for some sort of defence, his body is screaming out in agony and all he can do is stare at the man before him, his fork beard looking silver in the pale light, his hair, gods that can't be right can it? His vision is blurring rapidly now, he can see ghosts from his past, his mother and his half brothers and sisters who all passed from this world before Elia, and then there is Elia looking as beautiful as she did on the day she was married. His hands reach out touch his face. You are nearly home Oberyn my love. Soon you shall be with me again. His sister's voice echoes in his mind, gods he wishes to see her again.
Somewhere far away the magister's voice comes through. "End it now Aegor." And he sees through the blur the source of his bend down and slit his throat. The blood comes pouring out as Oberyn falls to the ground.