In Silence

He had been at sea when the falling star came. That was the way things turned out for him, really; always in the right place at the right moment to seize upon events. A religious man might say the gods looked on him with favor. And who was to say they were wrong? Perhaps they were.

The captain watched the star fall to the north and west, then immediately turned his ship and sailed eastwards. The crew did as commanded, without complaint, because there was no other thing they could do. Aboard ship the captain was king, and this king demanded absolute loyalty. They sailed to a quiet place in the Stepstones where they could replenish stores without notice, then immediately the captain turned them eastwards, past the Free Cities and towards the smoking ruins of old Valyria.

If the crew had any objections, they kept silent. Silence was the oath, and the captain kept it ruthlessly. Into the smoking sea that had swallowed so many other adventurers they went. The foul steams coming from the water choked the men. Some died; the captain tossed their bodies overboard himself, guiding the ship through the smokes and steams by some invisible lodestone.

At night, the ship was beset by visions of the downfall of Valyria, of fountains of flame, the sinking of cities and the death-cries of untold numbers of dragons. More men died, or went mad, assaulted by these visions. The captain seemed to revel in the visions, gazing raptly into the whirlwind of blood and fire as if searching for something specific.

Twenty days into the smoking sea, the Silence made landfall on a flat outcrop of rock. The captain and a hundred of his slaves went into the dead island with picks and shovels. As his men went to work as silently as they rowed, the Crow's Eye looked upon the Valyrians' works and called them good.

Euron Greyjoy chuckled quietly to himself. His brothers may not sow, but he was not so particular. The ancient, empty promise of the iron price held no true allure for the Crow's Eye. Oh, he wasn't above taking what he wanted by force—old habits died hard—but there were things that just could not be had with steel. Or with gold, for that matter. Some things needed to be carefully grown, tended with loving care. His Silence wouldn't be as feared had he not cultivated his reputation as skillfully as a farmer cultivated his crops.

Then, there were the things that must be delved for. Nothing grew in Valyria, but there were so many interesting things buried under the ash. All it took was a man of singular vision to go there and just dig.

A whistle caught the Crow's Eye's attention. One of his slaves was waving from a section of the dig. Smiling cheerfully all the while, Greyjoy strode over to examine the find. He crouched down and lovingly brushed the dirt and ash from from the object's surface, revealing the golden color veined with blue stone. He traced the outline of the runes carved into it. It was perfect, exactly what he had searched for. Elsewhere his slaves piled up a mound of Valyrian steel scale. That would be useful in itself, but here, this fragment of dragonlord sorcery was the true prize.

With this, he would finally get what he always wanted.

The Crow's Eye chuckled merrily as he stroked the buried device. His slaves shied back as his chuckles turned to laughs that echoed hollowly across the dead stone and smokey skies.

Captain Hasegawa Will Return