Braavos — Midday
The sun hung high over the lagoon city, its pale light struggling to pierce the grey veil of clouds that so often shrouded Braavos. The Titan's shadow stretched long across the outer harbor, but deeper in the city, where canals narrowed and alleys twisted like tangled rope, the day's brightness barely touched the stones. It was the hour when merchants haggled over silks in the Purple Harbor, when water dancers practiced their forms on rooftops, and when those who preferred shadows to sunlight kept to their business in the warren of streets behind the Secret Stairs.
In one such alley, tucked between a crumbling brick warehouse and a house of ill repute that had seen better days, a girl moved through the Braavosi streets like a shadow, her ragged clothes blending with the grey stone and murky canals. A pigeon pecked at something rotten near a drainage grate.
She drew her sword—thin, precise—and with one swift motion, took its head off. She picked up the pigeon by its feet and continued down the alley, her prize dangling beside her.
Footsteps echoed behind her. Three men.
"Hey, you!"
She stopped and turned.
One of them pointed at the pigeon. "What have you got there?"
She said nothing. Just watched them with cold eyes.
The three exchanged looks, chuckled, and took a few steps closer.
"Turn around and go," she said.
They didn't. One smirked, and they stepped forward again.
Her hand went to her waist, pulling the slender blade free. "Turn around and go."
"That's a nice little sword," one of the thugs said, his grin widening. "Worth a hundred pigeons, a sword like that."
All three drew daggers.
She showed no fear. "Nothing's worth anything to dead men."
Just then, a figure appeared behind her—a black elderly man in grey robes, his face weathered and calm. The thugs' eyes went wide. One turned and ran first, his voice cracking. "Quickly! Go! Go!" The others scrambled after him.
The girl turned to face her rescuer, but before she could speak—
The air above the alley shrieked.
A shimmering rift tore open ten feet above the ground, blue light bending unnaturally around its edges. With a heavy thud, a body slammed down directly onto the elderly man, pinning him face-first into the wet stone.
The girl froze, her hand tightening around her sword. One moment she'd been cornered by thugs and saved by the old man she saw yesterday at the entrance of the House of Black and White. The next, a boy in strange clothes had fallen from the sky and used her rescuer as a landing pad.
Jacob groaned, rubbing the back of his head as he sat up on the old man's back.
'System, why does dimensional travel hurt? My head is killing me.'
[Bear with it, Host. The first time you traveled, you lost consciousness, remember? This is progress.]
He rubbed his temples and squinted at the damp alley. 'What did I land on?' He looked down, realized he was sitting on a person, and scrambled to his feet. He reached down and hoisted the elderly man up by his robes. "Sorry. I fell from..." He paused, glancing at the solid stone roof far above. "I fell from there. Bad luck, right?"
The elderly man adjusted his robes with an eerily calm expression.
Jacob asked, 'System, which world is this?'
[Game of Thrones. The start of Season 5.]
'Game of Thrones?' Jacob's eyebrows shot up. 'I don't remember that show that well. I only started watching it because I thought it was about werewolves when I heard them calling the Starks wolves in a YouTube clip and saw the dead direwolf with her pups. But then I learned about dragons and kept watching. It wasn't that good. Every character I liked died of stupidity. I even skipped some seasons and episodes entirely… but this is going to be fun.'
He grinned. 'I'm definitely going after Sansa, and maybe Daenerys. If I remember correctly, at the start of Season 5, Sansa was with Littlefinger. I should find her before her wedding with that bastard Ramsay.'
Jacob finally turned his gaze toward the small, dirty girl standing nearby. He recognized the needle-thin sword and the defiant spark in her eyes immediately. 'Arya Stark. Since she's probably going to be my sister-in-law, I'm not letting her join those creepy face-thieves.'
He looked back at the elderly man, whose face was beginning to shift into the familiar, half-red, half-white features of Jaqen H'ghar. Jacob felt a cold, disgusting sensation emanating from the man.
'I feel something evil in this guy—just like that wizard Richard and the seven witches I killed before,' he thought. 'It's probably the aura of the creature the Faceless Men worship and call the Many-Faced God. But I know better, that thing is just like the yeti I fought before—a demon that lends its face-changing magic to humans in exchange for human sacrifices. That thing is no god. And what they call R'hllor, the Lord of Light, is no god either—he's a demon who lends his powers in exchange for human sacrifices too. I'll probably have to fight both of them eventually. Even if I don't go after them, they'll definitely come after me when they sense my power.'
Just then, a system window appeared before his eyes.
[Quest Available:
Host can sign in after stopping Jaqen H'ghar from accepting Arya Stark as a trainee and turning her into a no one.]
Jacob thought happily, 'I was going to do it anyway. It's like they said: When it rains, it pours.'
Jacob glared at Jaqen, his voice turning cold. "Get lost. I don't like the feeling I'm getting off of you."
Jaqen tilted his head, his voice a smooth, haunting whisper. "A man has no business here. A girl belongs to—"
"A girl belongs to me," Jacob interrupted. "I'm new here, and I need a guide."
Jaqen's hand moved toward his waist, but before he could reach for a hidden blade or a poison dart, Jacob appeared in front of him in a blink and caught his wrist.
"Let me give you a piece of advice," Jacob said. "If you don't want your little cult to be destroyed, you'd better stay out of my way." Then he punched Jaqen—a simple, casual punch delivered with terrifying physical force.
The blow connected squarely with Jaqen's jaw. The legendary assassin was sent flying backward until he slammed into a pile of wooden crates at the end of the alley. He didn't get back up.
Jacob shook out his hand and turned to leave. "Come on, little girl. I don't know why you want to join those creepy face-thieves, but you shouldn't. They'll make you forget who you are and turn you into a puppet. They'll make you kill innocent people. They'll torture you and call it training. And if you fail to assassinate a target, they'll kill you without mercy." He walked out of the alley.
Arya recognized Jaqen, but she just stared at his unconscious form, then at the boy who had just swatted a Faceless Man like a common fly. She didn't know who he was or how he'd fallen from the sky, but she knew power when she saw it. And she wanted it.
"Wait!" she called out, scurrying after him. "I… I can take you wherever you want, and I can be your attendant. But in exchange, I want to learn to move as fast as you. I want to be strong enough to punch a man and send him flying like you did. That's my price."
Jacob paused at the mouth of the alley, looking back at her with a smirk. "Sure. But before I make you strong, we have to find someone." He glanced back at Jaqen at the other end of the alley. 'Now isn't the time to face whatever creature is behind the Faceless Men. Let's wait until it reveals itself. Maybe I can get a quest from the system to kill it.'
Just then, a system window appeared.
[You have completed the quest successfully. You may sign in now, Host.]
Jacob said in his mind, 'System, sign in.'
[Quest Sign-In Successful. Rewards Obtained:
1️⃣ 2,000,000 Gold Dragons + 1,000,000 Silver Stags
Note: To put this in perspective—with 1 million Gold Dragons alone, you could:
- Military Power: Fund a 10,000-man army for a full year, or hire a Pirate Prince with 24 ships for nearly three years.
- Lands & Estates: Build 160–200 decent castles, or purchase over 6,600 houses.
- Equipment: Outfit 250,000 knights in full plate armor, or buy 1,000,000 riding horses (or 2,000 high-end warhorses).
With 2 million, your financial foothold in Westeros is that of a Great House.
Exchange Rate: 1 Gold Dragon = 210 Silver Stags | 1 Silver Stag = 56 Copper Pennies
2️⃣ House Attire & Sigil
- House Name: Alexander
- Sigil: A black dragon's head with burning red eyes on a crimson field, surrounded by golden stars.
- Black Dragon Head: Represents your true nature.
- Crimson Field: Represents passion, blood, and the slaughter you will deliver to anyone who threatens your family.
- Golden Stars: One for each wife.
- Motto: "Family First." (You can always change it if you want, Host)
- Wardrobe: The system provides Westerosi-style attire for you and your family—noble cuts in rich fabrics (velvet, wool, silk, leather) dyed in your house colors. Garments are enchanted to fit anyone who wears them, resist wear, stains, and blade slashes and arrows. (Enchanted blades and arrows might still penetrate them, so be careful, Host.)
3️⃣ An Enchanted Map of the Game of Thrones World: A detailed map of the known world. It's waterproof, fire-resistant, and untearable.]
Jacob read the rewards and thought, 'Nice. All three rewards are good. I still need to change my clothes, and I'll see what that sigil looks like. As for the motto, I like it very much, so I won't change it. And I really need the map. I need to learn more about this world because I really was just skimming through episodes.'
---
As they stepped out into the streets of Braavos, Jacob looked around. 'This place is like Venice.' He smiled. 'I'm going to have fun in this world.'
He took a deep breath and said aloud, "Not as bad as I thought it would be."
Arya caught up to him. "What's not bad?"
Jacob said, "The smell. I was expecting Braavos to smell disgusting, but it's tolerable. Just the smell of sea and fish, spices, and blood from the fish market. Not as bad as I imagined a medieval place would be."
Arya looked around. "Yeah, this place doesn't smell bad compared to other places." She glanced at him. "By the way, what's a medieval place?"
Jacob said, "It's just what we call places like this in my wor… in my hometown." He started walking. "Now, little girl, let's go taste the food of Braavos."
Arya scowled. "Stop calling me a little girl. You don't look much older than me."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "Well, how old are you?"
Arya said, "I'm sixteen namedays old."
"You're lying."
Arya hesitated. "Fifteen."
"You're still lying. You look fourteen to me."
Arya sighed. "Alright, I'm fourteen. But I'm almost fifteen."
"What's your name?"
Arya said, "Ar… Arry. You can call me Arry."
Jacob looked at her. "No last name?"
Arya shook her head. "No last name."
Jacob smirked. "You're lying again."
"I'm not."
Jacob crossed his arms. "I have powers that allow me to know when someone is lying. And you don't sound or look like a lowborn girl. If you were, you'd have started calling me m'lord by now." He smiled. "I think you're a runaway princess or something like that."
Arya hesitated, then said, "I'll tell you my name when I trust you enough."
Jacob nodded. "Fair enough."
Arya looked at him. "How about you? Can you tell me your name and where you're from?"
Jacob said, "My name is Jacob of House Alexander, Protector of Women and the King of Harem..." He coughed. "Ahem, ahem. I mean, King of Serendell."
Arya gave him a doubtful look. "Never heard of Serendell. Where is it?"
Jacob smirked. "Serendell is in a place no map can mark and no man can reach. It's not in Essos, nor Westeros's ground—it's where reality meets fantasy, a paradise floating in a dark, empty sea. None enter without my consent."
Arya rolled her eyes. "Did a maester write that for you? Just say 'none of your business' like a normal person." She gave him a look. "But apparently, you're not normal. You're wearing weird clothes I've never seen before. You appeared out of nowhere from a dark hole in the sky."
Jacob raised an eyebrow. "You saw that?"
Arya nodded. "Of course I did. There was a loud sound of tearing in the air when that black hole appeared. Did you think I'd believe what you told Jaqen—that you just fell from the roof?" She crossed her arms. "How did you do that?"
Jacob said, "That's a secret. Now, enough questions. Take me to a nice tavern—or probably an inn—so we can spend the night there. I'm starving, and I want to try the food of Braavos."
Arya looked at him warily. "What do you mean by 'we'? I'm not sleeping with you. I only said I'd be your attendant."
Jacob looked her up and down and snorted. "You think too much, you stupid kid. I have no interest in you. With my looks, what kind of woman do you think I can't get that I'd desperately lust over a little kid like you?"
Arya glared. "Well, you look like a pervert to me. And you said you're the 'Protector of Women and the King of Harem.' You think I didn't hear that?"
Jacob shrugged. "I'm not going to lie—I love women. But not little kids like you. I'm a pervert with standards."
Arya's glare didn't waver. "I'll believe you for now. But if you try something weird, I promise I'll cut your cock and feed it to the dogs."
Jacob smacked the back of her head. "That's enough. I said I have no interest in you, and I won't touch you—I mean it." He glared at her. "And one more thing: never threaten me again. I hate that."
Arya rubbed the back of her head. "Did you have to hit me that hard?"
Jacob smirked. "I didn't hit you hard. That was just a gentle pat to remind you to behave yourself."
Arya scowled. "Gentle pat, my ass. I have a bump on the back of my head."
Jacob's smirk widened. "That's just to remind you to be more respectful to me. You're my attendant, remember?"
Arya said nothing. She walked to some passersby, asked for directions to an inn suitable for nobles, and then led Jacob there.
---
Jacob booked two adjoining rooms, and then he and Arya went downstairs to the common room. He ordered the signature dishes.
Soon, the innkeeper brought them Emperor Crabs, eels, beef and mutton, and exotic fruits—peaches, melons, and fire plums.
Arya stared at the table full of expensive food. "Do you even have the money to pay for this? And even if you did, you ordered too much. It's a waste."
Jacob tasted the crab and nodded. "Not bad." He looked at Arya. "Dig in. Don't worry about the money." He waved to the innkeeper.
The innkeeper, who had been hovering nearby, approached. "What can I do for you, my lord?"
Jacob reached into his pocket as if pulling out coins, then produced two gold dragon coins from his pocket dimension. He handed them over. "Is this enough to cover the food and the rooms?"
The innkeeper's eyes widened. He smiled broadly. "Yes, my lord. More than enough."
Jacob waved a hand. "Alright. You can leave."
The innkeeper hesitated. "Do you want some wine, my lord?"
Jacob shook his head. "No."
After the innkeeper left, Jacob and Arya began eating.
Arya couldn't help but ask, "You said you're a king. Do you have an army?"
Jacob swallowed his food. "An army? No. I don't have an army. I alone could kill an army of tens of thousands of men in moments."
Arya gave him a skeptical look. "You're just bragging, right? I mean, even dragons can't kill tens of thousands of soldiers if they're well-armed and have weapons against them. And you're just human. You said you could do it in moments. I don't believe it—even if you know some magic."
Jacob shrugged. "One day, you'll see how strong I am." He took a bite of beef. "By the way, you don't seem surprised about magic. Have you seen it before?"
Arya nodded. "Yes. I've seen the Faceless Men's magic. I met a witch before. I also traveled with the Brotherhood Without Banners. I saw a trial by combat between the Hound and Beric Dondarrion. I saw Beric's sword ignite with fire. And after he was fatally wounded by the Hound, I witnessed Thoros of Myr use a magic they call the 'last kiss' to heal Beric from the brink of death." She looked at him. "Is your magic like theirs?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. I don't need to borrow my powers. My powers belong to me. The witch you met, the Faceless Men, and the Brotherhood Without Banners are just humans who borrow powers from some kind of supernatural creature. In exchange, they have to pay a price—and the price is always something bad. Selling their souls, their bodies. Human sacrifices."
Arya frowned. "The creature you're talking about is their god. The Lord of Light."
Jacob shook his head again. "The Lord of Light—also known as R'hllor—is no god, Arry."
Arya asked, "Don't you believe in him? Or in one of the old gods?"
Jacob said, "I do believe in God. Just not R'hllor or the false old gods. I believe in the real and only God—the first who existed eternally before all creation, with nothing before Him. The source of all existence. The Creator who created everything and wasn't born or created. A God who doesn't need anyone's help. If He wants something, He simply wills it, and it is." He met her eyes. "I believe only a God like that is worth worshipping. That's my belief."
Arya was quiet for a moment. "But the Brotherhood Without Banners and that witch believe R'hllor is a god."
Jacob asked, "How about you? Do you believe he's a god?"
Arya shook her head. "No. I don't believe it. When I was with the Brotherhood Without Banners, they sold a friend of mine to that witch. They claimed they did it because R'hllor wanted the boy, but I know they did it for the gold."
Jacob nodded. "Do you remember the Faceless Man I just punched? I felt a familiar feeling from him—a feeling I felt from a wizard and some witches I dealt with before."
Arya leaned forward. "What kind of feeling?"
Jacob's expression darkened. "A disgusting feeling. Like they're unnatural. Evil. Every part of me was screaming to kill them the moment I saw them. It's like a primal instinct—as if nature itself wants them dead."
Arya asked, "Did you ever find out why you felt that way about that wizard and those witches?"
Jacob nodded. "I did. It's because they had a contract with a demon to gain their magical powers. But in exchange, they had to sacrifice humans to that demon. They slaughtered babies and virgin girls no older than you. They performed other barbaric rituals—terrible things I don't even want to remember."
Arya's voice was quiet. "Did you kill them?"
Jacob smirked. "Yes. I killed them all. I even killed the demon that was behind them after they summoned it. It was a horrible creature—like an ape or a monkey, but more than ten feet tall, and it could control ice powers."
Arya's eyes widened. "So, do you think that what the Faceless Men call the Many-Faced God and R'hllor are just demons?"
Jacob took a bite of his food. "Yes. I'm sure they're demons." He chewed thoughtfully. "I'll probably have to fight them one day."
To be continued… 😊
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