Chapter 40 - Chapter 39: Qarth

"I've heard that only those in the north of Westeros who worship the Old Gods can become skinchangers. Do Asshai have weirwoods? Do they also believe in the Old Gods?" Dany asked quietly, her violet eyes searching the horizon as their caravan approached the great city.Quaithe's lacquered mask glimmered faintly in the sun as she responded, "Daenerys, do you truly understand what the Old Gods are, and what it means to be a skinchanger?"Dany turned to Jorah for clarification. "Is the Old God… a tree with a human face carved on it?"Jorah shook his head slowly. "That is the Heart Tree. The Old Gods are not singular; they are a collective name for many ancient deities.""They are animistic," Quaithe added, her voice soft but measured. "Followers of the Old Gods, the skinchangers, awaken the spirits of nature and can become one with sentient creatures. I learned this from an old skinchanger who traveled far from beyond the Wall, to the Land of the Setting Sun, in pursuit of wisdom.""Wildlings?" Jorah exclaimed, incredulous. "Why would a wildling venture thousands of miles to Asshai?""They seek knowledge," Quaithe explained, her gaze fixed on Dany. "The wildlings beyond the Wall are wise, yearning for understanding and civilization. Yet when they leave their homeland, they often find despair. One such skinchanger, spurned and disheartened by Westeros' hatred of his kind, came here, to the sanctuary of the Mystic Ones—Asshai in the Shadowlands."Dany's chest tightened. "So… you mean Westeros has no place for me… or my dragons?" The words whispered softly into her mind, yet the others remained silent.A secret message? The thought startled her. For days afterward, Dany found herself uneasy, avoiding moments alone with Quaithe. She asked Jorah and the wizard, Haiya, about potential threats, but magic in their world seemed indirect—spells, shadows, and subtle manipulations rather than fireballs or icicles hurled at the body.Still, the thought lingered that Quaithe could secretly cast a shadowbind spell upon her. She took precautions, ensuring a handmaid accompanied her to bed in turns. Yet Dany realized she might have been overthinking. After that night, Quaithe never sought to be alone with her again, speaking only when necessary.It wasn't until the Red Waste gave way to the lands of Qarth that Dany felt bold enough to confront the shadowbinder. "Sir… do you know the sorcery of Old Valyria?"Quaithe's head tilted slightly. "You wish to learn?" she asked. She never initiated conversation, yet she never refused either.Dany sighed, melancholy in her voice. "The world is dangerous. I do not wish to be harmed by rogue wizards again.""I do not know Valyrian spells—they hold no use for me," Quaithe said quietly. "But if you desire knowledge, Asshai is where it awaits. Rumors say descendants of the blood witches of old Valyria still practice there, preserving the ancient arts.""It is too far," Dany admitted, shaking her head. "My goal is to be queen in Westeros. I cannot stray from that path."The following day, at noon, they approached Qarth, the city Xaro had so vividly described. Dany could feel the anticipation in her chest.Suddenly, gongs echoed across the red sandstone walls, their tone deep and resonant. "Stormborn Targaryen! Mother of Dragons! Daenerys arrives!"The sound traveled across the open plains, audible even from half a mile away. Before Dany could question Xaro, a long, resounding horn blast followed.Looking up, she saw a ring of men atop the city walls, their dark, muscular torsos exposed, entwined with strange, horn-like adornments of bronze, glinting in the sun.A column of camel riders emerged from the city gates, moving in perfect order. The camels bore rich blankets and ornate saddles inlaid with rubies and garnets, glimmering brilliantly under the sunlight. The riders themselves were clad in copper-scale armor and long-beaked helmets, their heads crowned with black feathers, exuding a fierce elegance.The gate facing the Red Waste had been cleared of all obstacles, leaving a ceremonial path. Two lines of camel riders extended outward, two hundred meters in length, moving in unison."Ho-ho-ho!" they shouted together, raising their bronze-tipped spears, ribbons fluttering in the wind like moving clouds.Unlike Westeros, the Qartheen did not announce their greetings with pompous titles. Instead, they displayed gestures of warmth, reverence, and subtle majesty.Dany rode beside Xaro, leading her companions—Jorah, her bloodriders, the wizard Haiya, and Quaithe—closely following. As they neared the city walls, she noticed intricate carvings of animals along the red stone: serpents slithering, kites soaring, fish gliding, wolves howling, zebras prancing, and elephants standing majestically.Passing through the outer gate, children ran toward Dany, carrying baskets of flowers. They showered her and her dragons with vibrant petals, their laughter echoing in the city square. Though they wore only golden sandals, their bodies were covered in colorful painted designs, a display of Qartheen customs.The central wall, twelve meters high and built of gray granite, depicted scenes of battle: warriors clashing, spears striking, arrows flying, pyres burning, heroes fighting, and civilians falling. As the iron-encrusted gates opened, a roar of cheering poured from the city—a flood of voices welcoming her into Qarth.Between the central and inner walls stretched a long, vibrant street lined with buildings of striking colors: rose-colored towers, violet-painted spires, and bronze arches inlaid with green emerald. Balconies overflowed with onlookers, the women clad in tokar robes exposing one breast, while men wore flowing silk garments adorned with beads.Red rose petals fell from balconies, scarves waved in the breeze, and the bells atop the towers chimed in rhythm with the crowd's excitement. Dany smiled faintly, recalling stories of kings and heroes welcomed with grandeur. Here, the city itself seemed alive with celebration.The inner walls, fifteen meters high and built of black marble, were carved with erotic scenes, reflecting the more permissive customs of Qarth. The gates, studded with dense golden eyes, opened slowly like a great beast revealing its maw.Within the inner city, the streets were alive with towers clustered like a forest, each square adorned with animal-shaped fountains, shimmering in sunlight, casting tiny rainbows across the marble.Baia, a prominent merchant, approached with pride. "Qarth is the greatest city ever known. It is the center of the world, a bridge between north and south, east and west. Ancient beyond memory, it dwarfs all other cities in grandeur."Dany, smiling politely, replied, "I have visited nearly all the Free Cities, save Volantis. None compare to the beauty of this strait."She observed statues of the city's ancient heroes lining the arcades, standing on white marble pedestals as though awaiting the day when Dothraki warriors might arrive to place themselves among them.Pausing before a bustling marketplace, Dany took in the vibrant scene: birds perched in the coffered ceilings, terraces overflowing with lush trees and flowering plants, and merchants displaying exquisite goods from all corners of the world."Oh, Daenerys, my queen, whatever you desire, simply speak, and I will deliver it," a merchant proclaimed theatrically."All of Qarth belongs to her," Blue-lipped Bayapuri interjected, gesturing toward the shadowbinder. "Khaleesi, come with me to the Undying Halls, and you shall drink from the well of truth and wisdom."Xaro laughed. "What can the Halls of Dust offer her? The Thirteen shall give her a crown of jet and fire halo stone!"Dany's face brightened with amusement. Politely, she declined. "Lord Baia, I appreciate your offer, but my heart longs for King's Landing. That is my palace, my goal. I mean no disrespect, yet I cannot stay here for long."Her thoughts were private: should Qarth prove untrustworthy, she could command a hundred thousand Dothraki to storm the city. Yet outwardly, she conveyed humility and courtesy, masking the fire of her ambition.The warlock's blue lips curved in a smile, though Dany sensed a hint of mockery. She accepted a small jar of ointment he offered, his words cryptic: "This will help you see the spirit of the air."As he departed, the merchant whispered, "A wizard's house is made of bones and lies. Beware."Dany glanced at her companions, noting their subtle nods of agreement. In this city of wealth, magic, and spectacle, trust was rare—and yet, the Mother of Dragons had never been one to shy from challenges.She rode on, determined, her dragons stirring beside her, ready to reshape the destiny of Qarth, Westeros, and perhaps the world itself.(End of Chapter 39)---