Chapter 28 - Valar Morghulis
The fourth day of searching was turning into another long walk through the maze of Braavosi streets. The canals steamed faintly in the warm air, and the stone under our feet stayed damp no matter how bright the sun was. Val kept grumbling about the humidity. Leaf stayed quiet, watching every shadow and listening to the stones. I was thinking about which district to search next when a sharp shout broke across the street.
Not a normal street shout. A frightened one.
We all turned at the same moment.
Down a narrow side lane, two children burst out at full speed, bare feet slapping on the stones. Their clothes were rags, thin, torn, and crusted with dirt. The boy looked around fifteen or maybe a little older, though hunger made his frame smaller than it should be. His hair, long and pale, clung to his face in greasy strands. His eyes were sharp and wild, darting everywhere, searching for a path. His arms were thin but wiry, the kind of strength that came from running more than eating.
The girl running beside him was tiny compared to him. She looked no more than seven, small, fragile, and too light, like one good wind could lift her off the ground. Her hair was a tangled mass of silver-blonde, dirty from the streets but still shining under the sun. Her lilac eyes were wide with fear, and her little feet struggled to keep up. She looked sweet even in that moment, soft-faced, like a child too young to understand the world.
Behind them came the sound of heavy boots.
A group of ten or twelve men rushed into view, armed with daggers, short blades, and anger on their faces. They looked like hired thugs or some low-level enforcers from the back alleys of Braavos. They pushed through fish crates, knocked over barrels, and shouted to each other as they ran, pointing at the children like hunters spotting prey.
"Run, Dany! Run!" the boy shouted, dragging her by the hand.
That word froze me for half a heartbeat. Dany.
I looked again, hard. Silver hair. Purple eyes. The way the girl stumbled but still held on to the boy. The way the boy pushed himself forward even when his strength was almost gone.
It clicked instantly, clearly.
These weren't just any street children. These were the children.
Viserys Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen, last of their line, the lost dragon prince and the little dragon princess. The children of Aerys, the Mad King. The ones I had crossed the sea to find.
They were right here, covered in dirt, running for their life down a Braavosi street. And they were about to be caught.
The men behind them were too many, too fast. There was no way the children could outrun twelve armed adults in narrow streets like these. People stepped aside quickly, not wanting trouble. The market noise didn't stop. Braavos had seen too many chases like this to care.
I felt the weight of the moment, heavy and sharp. The girl couldn't die. She was the future Mother of Dragons, breaker of chains, stormborn queen, the person who would bring magic roaring back into the world. This little girl mattered more than the whole city put together.
I glanced at Val and Leaf. Both of them had already moved a step forward, reading my intention without needing words.
I nodded once, stepping in front of them. "We go in fast. We stop the men. We protect the children."
Val cracked her knuckles, a dangerous grin spreading across her face. "About time," she said.
Leaf's eyes glowed faintly, the green light shifting in her pupils. "They will not touch the children," she whispered.
I started forward, ready to cut through the crowd and stand between the hunters and their prey.
But just as we were ready to move, something changed. Something unexpected.
I could see some of the people at the back being picked off one by one by a single figure. At first it didn't make sense. That person moved too quickly, too efficiently, like a trained assassin. They had silent steps, precise strikes and no wasted motion.
I had heard stories about killers being hired to hunt down the last Targaryens, but never about someone hiring an assassin to save them. That part was strange. It wasn't in the books or the show, and it didn't fit any story I knew. Still, the fact stood that someone skilled was helping the children.
The anomaly didn't stay hidden for long. The pursuers noticed. Except for the two men running ahead toward Daenerys and Viserys, the rest turned back to face the assassin. Five or six of them formed a loose half-circle. The killer didn't hesitate.
They stepped in without blinking, striking cleanly and moving between the attackers with a rhythm that looked almost practiced. Whoever the person was, their technique was sharp, quick sidesteps, quick strikes, the kind that came from years of training. But even with skill, one person against six would not last long.
Then more came from behind, ten or twelve more. It looked like the first group had been only the vanguard. A larger wave was arriving, closing in fast. The assassin was quickly being surrounded, and the children were nearly within reach of the two pursuers.
I didn't think. I simply shouted, "Leaf, protect the children! Save them!"
Then I turned to Val. "Val, follow me. We're helping that person, whoever they are. They're a helper to the Targaryens, and I want to know who sent them."
Leaf understood immediately. She moved with surprising speed, closing the distance to the two men who had cornered the children at a crossroads. The next moment, the men were on the ground. Leaf had dealt with them so quickly, with only two strikes, and it looked like they had simply fallen.
She started talking to the children and Daenerys clung to her hand as soon as she was close enough. Viserys stood behind her, tense and wide-eyed, but alert.
With the children no longer in immediate danger, Val and I ran toward the main fight. The assassin was now pressed by a growing circle of attackers. The situation was becoming worse by the second.
The moment Val and I entered the fight from behind, the rhythm changed.
It was my first time fighting real people and killing but it didn't feel strange. It felt like fighting in game or NPCs. I didn't have time to question why I did not feel uncomfortable while killing. I just acted. A strike, a push, a step. The attackers fell back in confusion.
Val was something else entirely. Wildling ferocity turned her fighting into raw instinct shaped into motion. She used every trick possible, throwing dirt into eyes, striking knees, kicking legs out, stepping close instead of stepping back.
She fought like a cornered animal that had learned to win every fight simply because losing meant death. She didn't hesitate. She didn't hold back. One strike was enough for her to disable a man, sometimes two.
I held my ground beside her. I wasn't as fast or as practiced, but I had strength and enough technique which I got from her. Slowly, steadily, we reduced their numbers. The assassin helper noticed us, saw we were allies and their movements shifted.
Suddenly the three of us were falling into a strange rhythm. If one of us stepped forward, another stepped aside. If one struck high, another struck low. It wasn't planned, but it felt almost natural.
Within minutes, the attackers were down. The street grew still.
I had a few scrapes, nothing serious. Val stood without a mark, steady as ever. The assassin, however, had not escaped the fight so cleanly. Their stance faltered slightly as the last attacker fell.
They looked past us, towards the children behind Leaf and finally let out a long breath. As if all that mattered was making sure the children were safe. When they saw Daenerys clutching Leaf's hand and Viserys still standing, they finally eased.
Then the assassin swayed forward, weakening.
Without thinking, I caught them by the shoulders.
"Stay with me," I said.
Their voice was faint. "Make sure… the children live."
Their eyes drifted toward Daenerys again, as if she were the only thing holding them to consciousness.
"Valar… Valar Dohaeris… Valar Morghulis…" the person whispered, the words cracked and thin.
Hearing those words hit me harder than the fight. There was only one place those phrases belonged, one place feared across Essos and Braavos. The House of Black and White. The temple of the Many-Faced God.
A Faceless Man, or someone trained like one, had been sent to protect the Targaryens.
Then the assassin's strength gave out entirely. They slumped forward, barely holding themselves upright.
I looked at Val. She nodded once. "We take them with us."
The air around us was quiet now but the danger was not gone. We had saved the children for the moment. But more hunters were coming. Someone had sent these men. Someone powerful who would not give up.
"We move," I said.
Leaf stepped forward, holding the children close. Val stepped beside me.
And together, we lifted the wounded assassin and disappeared into the narrow streets of Braavos.
End of Chapter 28 - Valar Morghulis