The cart bumped over cobblestones, slow and rough, the cloth over my eyes itched, and the gag tasted like sweat and dust, I couldn't see, but I didn't need to, King's Landing was loud enough to recognize.
Vendors shouted over each other, hooves clattered past, someone nearby sobbed over a loaf of bread someone else laughed like they didn't have a care in the world, the air stank of smoke and piss.
A man sat in the back with me, he kept one heavy hand on my shoulder whenever I shifted.
"Easy," he said voice plain, tired.
I tried to say what I thought of easy, but the gag turned it into a grunt.
"Mmmph, fuhh yuh!"
He didn't answer, his hand stayed put.
The cart turned sharper, wheels thudding into a dip, my body jolted against the boards. The hand on my shoulder pressed firm, holding me steady, a muffled sound slipped through my gag as my hip knocked against the sideboard, gulls started screaming overhead. The air had changed, It was thick and salty, like the sea breeze back on Gallipoli, the scent hit me, carried faintly by the wind.
Water was close, the smell of sea air drifted.
Then the cart jerked to a sudden stop, the hand on my shoulder stayed firm, but I still pitched forward, my knee striking wood, I drew a sharp breath through my nose, steadying myself.
Gravel crunched beneath heavy boots, metal clinking with each step, the sound of armour grew louder and louder, closing in around me.
"Hold," a new voice snapped, sharp and commanding.
Not the driver, it was someone else and there was authority in the voice, maybe it was the city watch, hard to tell through the thick layers of blanket and cloth. But it sounded like the kind of voice that didn't expect to be questioned.
"What's in the cart?"
"Cargo," the slender man said, his voice flat with boredom, like this was the same question he'd been asked a hundred times before.
"Orders say we look."
This was my chance, surely these men, who sounded like they had some authority, could get me the fuck out of this.
I kicked the sideboard, once, then again.
Shoved out a noise through the gag, loud as I could.
"Mmmph! Mmph!"
The hand on my shoulder clamped down.
"Don't," the man next to me said, low and calm.
For a second there was silence.
"Don't?" I tried to say, but the gag muffled my voice. Fuck don't, I twisted and squirmed, thrashing my legs as hard as I could, making as much noise as possible.
"Something's moving," said the one outside.
"A crate," said the man next to me.
"That's no...."
A clink, coins.
A pouch landed with a soft jingle.
Another pause, armour shifted.
"Right, move along."
The cart creaked back into motion, wheels grinding over the stone as it rolled slow toward wherever the fuck we were headed.
The hand on my shoulder pressed down harder, then the man beside me muttered, voice low and sharp near my ear, "Little bastard, when I say be quiet, be quiet."
His fist drove into my gut through the thick blanket, not enough to break anything, but enough to knock the wind out of me, I folded in on myself, gasping through the gag, eyes watering behind the cloth.
The cart kept moving, the noise of the city faded behind us, replaced by the slap of water and the creak of wood beneath the wheels.
Boots thudded across planks, voices shouted orders, ropes groaned overhead, pulled taut. The air was colder here, wetter, smelled of fish, salt, and oil.
"Unload," the slender man said.
The man beside me shifted, his hand left my shoulder, and I felt him stand, a second later, the back of the cart creaked open, cold air rushed in.
Two sets of boots approached.
"Grab him, the blanket stays on" one of them said.
They lifted me without warning, the thick blanket still wrapped tight around me.
"Watch his head," someone muttered.
They didn't.
My head knocked against the edge of the cart, I let out a muffled sound through the gag, they carried me up a narrow ramp, the ground shifted underfoot it was unsteady, swaying.
"Where's he going?" one asked.
"Below deck," the other replied. "Captain wants him locked up."
"Figures."
They brought me down a narrow hatch, I felt the shift in the boards underfoot, we passed crates, barrels, something that smelled like mold.
"Back corner," one of them said.
They stopped, a small iron cage sat wedged between stacks of cargo, I heard the latch click open.
"Get him in."
I was shoved forward, knees hitting the floor first, the blanket tangled around me, I landed hard, shoulder scraping the bars.
"Shut it."
The cage door slammed.
"Captain wants him locked tight," one of them said.
They lingered a moment.
"You think he's one of them?" the first asked.
"Doesn't matter, we're paid either way."
Boots thudded away, the hatch slammed shut.
I was alone again, nothing new, I don't remember falling asleep, after that.
One moment, I was staring into the dark, still blindfolded with a hood over my head, the next I was somewhere else.
Fire.
Everywhere, but not wild, not out of control, It moved like it knew me, like it had been waiting until I got closer, closer to where I did not know, but I stood in the middle of it, untouched the heat curled around my legs, danced up my arms. I raised a hand, and the flames followed twisting in the air, almost as if bending to my will.
The dragon was there again same as before, ancient, a huge beast that always looked like it wanted to devour something it was bloodthirsty. But it never tried to harm me, every time, it just stared at me or circled me flying in the air. When I looked at it, it looked back, not just a quick glance, locked eyes.
It stood, slow and deliberate, wings folding in, claws digging into the scorched earth.
Then it moved.
Heavy steps, each one shook the ground, It came closer, towering over me. Its head lowered, eyes burning green.
Then it roared, the sound tore through me, my ears split open, I felt blood run down my neck. I dropped to my knees, hands over my ears, screaming through clenched teeth.
"Shut the fuck up," I rasped, voice ragged, teeth clenched so hard I tasted blood, "my fucking ears"
It kept roaring, the sound growing louder with each passing moment, I thought I'd pass out, thought my skull would crack open, it was fucking painful.
Then, finally, it stopped, the silence hit harder than the roar.
It lifted its head, and for the first time, I saw it, really saw it, the full scale, the size, the weight of it. It wasn't just big it was fucking huge and honestly I never realised how scary this beast actually is.
It opened its mouth.
Dark green, black smoke rose from its throat, thick and slow, then, with what I can only assume was its full force, it unleashed a wave of flame.
It hit me dead on.
I felt something shift, like a door opening inside me, my ears healed, my mind cleared, I stood up in the fire, staring into the dragon's eyes.
And it stared back.
There was no fear, no pain anymore, just a connection, like it had always been there, waiting for me to wake up.
Then I did, my eyes snapped open, no headache, no fog, just clarity, something had been unlocked, like it had been held back deep inside of me.
I realized then that the fire had never been just around me, it was me, in the dream it obeyed my will, now awake I felt as if I could call upon it.
I willed my hands to burn, the ropes at my wrists slackened and fell away. I ripped the heavy blanket from around me, yanked back the hood, peeled off the blindfold, and spat out the gag.
I was furious, six fucking years of being tossed around like I had no say in it, like I was a dog, I let the flames burn hotter, dark green fire rippled across my skin, coiling up my arms and chest, I pressed my palm to the iron bars, they hissed, softened, dripped molten metal onto the wooden planks.
A widening gap formed between the softened bars, just wide enough for me to slip through, I crawled out onto the slick planks, from above came frantic shouts.
"Smoke below! fire in the hold, fetch water!" "Open the hatch!" "Buckets, now!"
The hatch slammed open, torchlight spilled down, I rose, chest heaving, flames dancing over my knuckles, I raised my right hand.
I wanted to incinerate every man pouring through that hatch, so I raised my hand and the flame sprang forward, devouring barrels, beams, and the men who'd caged me, their screams echoed through the hold as green fire swallowed them whole, It was quite satisfying watching them burn if I'm being honest.
Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to burn everything in sight on a ship at sea.
Out of nowhere dark green flames surged through my chest, I couldn't stop it, It built pressure like a rising tide, then an eruption of flame blasted outward.
Beams shattered, planks splintered into hailing shards, I stood at the epicentre as jagged wood tore into my flesh a splinter the size of a dagger driving into my thigh, ribs cracking under flying timber, a metal bracket skimming my shoulder and ripping muscle from bone, pain exploded in every nerve I should have died.
But.
The fire answered my torment, dark green flames curled around each wound, knitting tendon to tendon, sealing fractured ribs with a slow, burning sizzle, muscle reknit, skin fused, bone snapped back into place as if nothing had ever been broken.
The blast's shockwave tore through the hold, the force yanked me upward, splinters shredded my arms and back as I blasted through the deck planks, the flames began to heal me again as I was hurled over the rail and into the sea.
My limbs went slack, vision dimming at the edges, then everything went black my consciousness slipped away.