Chapter 178: The Departing Ship
The Breeze's Kiss had been away from the coast of Pentos for three hours, and the waters of Pentos Bay were full of ships fleeing the port.
The blazing fires in the city behind them made the captains and sailors who had escaped feel secretly fortunate.
"Is it worth it?" After helping Daenerys into her cabin and letting her sleep peacefully, Celia returned to the deck and went to Ian's side. "Destroying a city, losing Hazan as an ally, just to stop her from marrying Khal Drogo—is it worth it?"
"I told you why," Ian shrugged. "The original plot is very easy to obviously disrupt. Our presence with Daenerys is an open secret; other players have countless ways to thwart our plans.
In contrast, if we simply steal Daenerys away, we can, in turn, disrupt the plans of other players.
For example, those players who might be hiding in the khalasar in Drogo's territory. They might have prepared a huge trap for us, but in the end, they won't even get to see Daenerys."
"But there are also many downsides," Celia immediately countered. "We've simultaneously created three enemies: Illyrio, Prince Hazan, and Drogo."
"No, our only enemy is Drogo. Hazan and Illyrio are no longer a threat to us." Ian shook his head. His falcon, having witnessed Illyrio's fate, had left Pentos and was now chasing their ship.
Celia was stunned for a moment before slowly saying, "You frighten me."
"Then do you think I wasn't afraid while doing all this?" Ian suddenly laughed, a slightly manic laugh. "Do you think I was like a machine, effortlessly following a predetermined program, or was I trembling with fear, walking on thin ice?"
"What?" Celia hadn't expected Ian to react so strongly.
"Do you think I wasn't afraid when I suddenly discovered you were a player? Do you think I wasn't afraid when I was suggesting plans to Illyrio while secretly adding my own agenda? Do you think I wasn't afraid on the way to the port with the Targaryen siblings? I was afraid all the time.
Before every meal, I was afraid the food was poisoned. Before every night's sleep, I was afraid I would never wake up again. Every time I met a stranger, I was afraid he was a player and would suddenly pull out a dagger and slit my throat."
Seemingly realizing his loss of composure, Ian stopped abruptly, took a deep breath, and regained his normal expression.
"The good news is, everything that scared me so far is dead, and I'm still alive and well," Ian shrugged. "So I need to warn you—don't do anything behind my back. I'm paranoid, and if I find out you've done anything I can't be sure of your intentions about, I'll treat it as betrayal immediately and eliminate the threat at all costs."
Surprisingly, this time, Celia showed neither anger nor fear after hearing this. Instead, she laughed. "Feeling better after venting?"
"Which player isn't like that?" she continued. "For a long time, especially after my two allies were eliminated, I was in the exact same situation as you. This is a game of survival; if you're not mentally strong enough, you'll eventually drive yourself crazy."
"I was mentally prepared before the competition," Ian interrupted Celia. "Alright, I don't want to continue this topic. How's Daenerys?"
"She's asleep," Celia wisely didn't press the matter further. "But she has a high fever."
"Good." Ian nodded.
"Very good?" Celia asked strangely. "Aren't you worried that something might happen to her?"
"It would be strange if a dragon could be harmed by a fever," Ian said noncommittally. "If I'm not mistaken, she's having a dragon dream. Didn't she have one the night before Drogo's wedding in the original timeline? This is earlier than expected."
"A dragon dream? Daenerys's dragon dream the night before the wedding was a sign that dragons would appear, foreshadowing that Illyrio would give her three dragon eggs at the wedding the next day," Celia asked doubtfully. "We don't have any dragon eggs now, so what kind of dragon dream is she having?"
"We don't have any dragon eggs?" Ian chuckled. "Why would I take Daenerys away if we didn't have any?"
"So you've already stolen them." Celia realized.
"So what are you planning to do?" she asked immediately. "How are you going to hatch these three eggs? In the original timeline, Daenerys stepped into the flames to bring forth the dragons while Drogo was comatose and her unborn child had been stillborn, but the conditions for the dragons' birth are a subject of much debate."
"I'm more inclined to believe it's a form of blood magic involving life for life," Ian replied. "The Mother of Dragons used the lives of her husband Drogo, her son Rhaego, and the maegi Mirri Maz Duur to bring forth the three dragons."
"And I think that's the least plausible explanation," Celia countered. "Because before Daenerys, I've never heard of a dragon's birth requiring a human sacrifice, and even without human intervention, wouldn't the dragons hatch from their own eggs?"
"Thinking that way only shows you haven't grasped one thing: what we have are fossilized dragon eggs, not fresh dragon eggs. Fresh dragon eggs certainly don't need these rituals, but to turn stone back into life, there must be a life sacrifice. Life for life is the universal law of magic in this world."
"Now that you mention it, it seems I did overlook something. But," Celia reluctantly agreed with Ian's theory, "even if you're right, the third person to be sacrificed shouldn't be Mirri Maz Duur, right? Khal Drogo is the strongest khal on the Dothraki Sea, and Rhaego is the son of Drogo and Daenerys, the stallion who mounts the world according to prophecy. What the hell is Mirri? A maegi? If her blood can be exchanged for dragons, then can my blood also…"
Celia's voice trailed off at the end. She seemed to realize that she had accidentally said something very dangerous, and gave an awkward smile as Ian looked at her.
"Don't worry, you're still far from it." Ian chuckled, somewhat exasperated. "You really think Mirri Maz Duur is only at your level?"
"My level… isn't bad either, okay?"
"We obtain magical power through the system, unaffected by the decline of magic in this world," Ian shook his head. "But they're different. Do you remember when Mirri Maz Duur used blood magic?"
"After Drogo was injured?"
"Before the dragons were born." Ian emphasized. "As everyone knows, the resurgence of magic in A Song of Ice and Fire was brought about by Daenerys's three dragons. Before that, magic in this world had been fading for countless years.
Whether it was the red priests of R'hllor in Volantis or the warlocks in the House of the Undying in Qarth, they were all essentially powerless before the resurgence of magic. Only in Asshai, by the Shadow, could practitioners retain a very small amount of power due to the special nature of that city."
"And Mirri Maz Duur, a godswife who learned her arts in Asshai, was able to use blood magic in Lhazar to try to save Drogo's life before the return of magic, and turn Daenerys's unborn child into a monstrosity. Think about it carefully—if she had lived until magic returned, what level of power would she have reached?"
"She's underestimated," Celia concluded for Ian.
"She's severely underestimated. In fact, the power contained in Mirri Maz Duur's blood is no less than the so-called king's blood, which is why burning her alive could help birth a dragon."
"Alright," Celia nodded, then, as if suddenly remembering something, "So… why did you insist on bringing Viserys's corpse onto the ship?"
(End of Chapter)
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