We are really close let's get those other bonus chapters!
1st bonus chapter: 100 collections(Bonus Today)
2nd bonus chapter: 105 collections(1 more to go)
3rd bonus chapter: 110 collections
Goal has been reduced! It was the middle of the week so it was not fair for you guys to spring it then.
-
These groups and lesser fire wielders, however formidable in their own right, paled in comparison to the main power blocks in the city who they all each served in one fashion or another. Jon's journey through Volantis might have revealed many facets of fire-wielding powers, but none were as ancient, as potent, or as dangerous as the two great forces that truly shaped the city's fate, the Old Bloods and the Red Faith.
These two factions, each with their own claim to the power of fire, were the city's most influential and mysterious powers, and their influence stretched far beyond Volantis itself.
The Old Bloods were the hidden rulers of the city, their names whispered in reverence and fear throughout Volantis, and they were perhaps the closest the city had to true royalty. They were the descendants of Valyria, bastard children of the old Dragonlords. Families who had survived the Doom and managed to preserve some of their wealth and influence from before then, but also some ancient knowledge and treasures of Valyria which they guarded jealousy.
The Old Bloods called themselves the custodians of lost Valyrian with scrolls, tomes, and arcane secrets that had survived the cataclysmic destruction of Valyria itself. These families were known to possess ancient, weathered books that contained knowledge about blood magic, dragonfire, and fire magic on a level that Jon could scarcely imagine. They held the secrets of how to wield fire as a weapon, as a tool, and as a source of power, passed down through the generations, carefully guarded within the black stone walls of their secluded palaces.
With those knowledges and blood they held great power, some could conjure flames to defend their city or punish their enemies, from time to time they would put on displays calling down great firestorms on the dothraki hordes who threatened the city. While others wielded it more subtly, using it to manipulate events behind the scenes. This is what set them apart and above all others was their terrifying mastery and great potency due to their bloodlines.
They also had cadres of sorcerers, alchemists, and scholars who they could call upon to do their bidding. And controlled most of the institutions in the city, giving their favors to few to act on their behalf. While having eyes and ears everywhere in the city.
These ways, the Old Bloods did not just control the city, they shaped its very future. From behind their walls, they pulled the strings of the city's commerce, politics, and culture, manipulating everything.
In stark contrast to the Old Bloods, who held their fire magic in secrecy and pride, the Red Faith was an open and visible force in Volantis. This religion, centered around the worship of R'hllor, the Lord of Light, was one of the city's most prominent religions, and its followers wielded fire in the name of their god, not for personal power, but for divine purpose.
The Red Faith was led by the Red Priests and Priestesses, holy figures who wielded fire as a manifestation of the Lord of Light's power. To them, fire was sacred, a holy tool used to drive back the darkness of the world, to purify the wicked, and to guide the faithful on their path toward salvation. The Red Priests believed that they had been chosen by R'hllor to act as his emissaries, and it was said that they had the power to call down fire from the heavens themselves.
Unlike the Old Bloods, who kept their knowledge hidden, the Red Faith wore their flames openly as symbols of their god's favor. Jon had seen the Red Priests at work on his journey through the city, heard their sermons, seen their rituals. Where the Old Blood controlled the main levers of power and upper echelon, the Red Faith was tied to the common free folk and the slaves.
In stark contrast to the Old Bloods, who held their fire magic in secrecy and pride, the Red Faith wielded their fire openly and with divine purpose. While the Old Bloods sought to manipulate the power of fire to further their own ends, hidden behind the walls of their palaces, the Red Faith believed that fire was a sacred gift bestowed upon them by R'hllor, the Lord of Light, to purify the world and usher in a new age of salvation.
The Red Faith was a religion whose very existence was woven into the fabric of Volantis itself. Wherever Jon walked in Volantis, the flame of R'hllor was never far from view. The Red Priests and Priestesses, robed in crimson and marked by the burning symbol of their god, were everywhere, their sermons filling the air with fervor, their rituals an ever-present sight in the streets. Fire was not just a tool for them, it was a calling, a divine manifestation of the power that flowed from their god's eternal light.
At the head of this fervent faith were the Red Priests and Priestesses, holy figures believed to have been personally chosen by R'hllor to act as his emissaries on Earth. It was said in the height of their power with the blessing of their god they could call down great conflagrations, summoning fire from the very sky.
The Red Faith had a more direct influence over the common people and, importantly, the city's slaves. The Red Faith's connection to the underclasses was one of devotion and hope, offering the promise of salvation through the fiery grace of R'hllor. Slaves, the poor, and those without power often turned to the Red Priests, hoping for divine intervention in their lives, hoping that the flames could offer them redemption or escape from their suffering. While the Old Bloods controlled the levers of power from behind the scenes, the Red Faith commanded the hearts of the masses.
The two factions were locked in a tense balance of power. Where the Old Bloods were silent, hidden, and patient, weaving their power into the fabric of Volantis' elite, the Red Priests were open, dramatic, and unyielding. While the Old Bloods had the ancient knowledge of dragons, the Red Faith had the fire of R'hllor himself. The tension between these two powers could be felt everywhere Jon went in Volantis.
For Jon, the choice between them was a complex one. His decision on who to join really came down to the two of them if he wanted to get deeper into the higher mysterious of fire magic. He could only learn from one since they had a rivalry. Either way, the fire in Volantis was not just a tool, it was a force of immense power, and those who controlled it controlled the future of the city itself.
-
Jon stood at the edge of the great temple, the air thick with the scent of incense and the hum of a thousand whispered prayers. It was dusk, the sun slipping behind the horizon like a flame being extinguished. The city's firelights flared to life, and Jon's mind swirled with the vivid memory of everything he had seen in Volantis over the last months.
He had been up and down these streets witnessing and hearing about the fire-wielding street performers, the brutal Flameguard, the enigmatic Fire Seers, the great Inferno Knights, the Fire Cultists of the Eternal flame he heard about, tyrannical Crimson Tribunal, the wild Flameborn running the slums, the wandering Fire Monks and more. But none had the same power, the same pull, as the Red Priests.
He had seen them countless times, listened to their sermons echo through the streets, watched their fiery rituals, seen their followers bend in devotion before the flames of R'hllor. They had something that the Old Bloods would not give: a direct path, a way of connecting with the fire in a sacred, divine sense, not merely as a tool or weapon, but as a force meant to burn away corruption, to purify, to guide him toward something greater than himself.
His search for knowledge, for control over fire, had led him to the Red Faith. This was the path he set himself to walk down.
Jon had stood at the edge of the bustling temple one evening taking it all in. The Great Temple of R'hllor loomed before Jon, an architectural marvel of scale and fire, its presence impossible to ignore amidst the sprawling, ever-moving city of Volantis. It was a monument to the power of the faith, both physical and divine, and it rose from the city like a beacon, a guiding light for the faithful, a warning for the unrepentant, a symbol of the Red Faith's dominance.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the temple seemed to pulse with life, the very stones of its structure glowing with an inner heat, as though it was forged not by men but by fire itself. The entire building was designed to reflect R'hllor's eternal light, with its towering spires reaching toward the heavens like the fingers of a flame desperately trying to touch the gods.
The temple was built of reddish-gold stone, polished so fine that it gleamed even in the waning daylight, and every surface, every column, every arch, every step was etched with intricate patterns of flames and shadows.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/34340015905724680/
At its center stood the grand entrance, two colossal doors made of blackened iron and engraved with scenes from the most sacred texts of the Red Faith. The doors were a testament to R'hllor's triumph over darkness, the flames of the Lord of Light depicted in vivid, golden relief, engulfing monstrous figures that represented the forces of chaos and destruction. The air was thick with heat, as if the temple itself was alive, breathing the fire that burned in the hearts of its followers.
Upon stepping inside, Jon was enveloped by the grandeur of the space. The vastness of the interior struck him immediately, as if he had crossed into another world. The Main Hall stretched upward in a vast curve, the ceiling so high that it seemed to disappear into the heavens themselves. Above, hanging in a suspended spiral of golden chains, were massive lanterns, enormous orbs of fire suspended by the delicate framework of iron and glass. They burned with an ethereal light that shimmered in every direction, casting the temple in a warm, flickering glow that seemed to dance across every surface.
The altar lay at the very heart of the temple, raised high upon a grand platform made of smooth, polished stone, and covered in burning braziers of flame. The flames burned bright and steady, towering over the worshippers who gathered before it, their faces illuminated in the flickering light. The altar itself was a massive brazier, so large it could swallow entire offerings whole, yet it was always ablaze, a physical representation of R'hllor's never-ending fire. The heat that radiated from it was palpable, making the air thick and heavy with intensity.
The temple was alive with the fervor of the faithful. Hundreds of voices chanted in harmony, rising and falling like a chorus of flames themselves. A priestess in flowing red robes, adorned with intricate golden embroidery of flames, stepped forward to lead the prayer. Her face was serene, illuminated by the firelight, and her voice carried with an almost hypnotic power as she called upon R'hllor. The flames in the temple seemed to respond, flickering higher, growing hotter, their heat almost unbearable in the air. The very stones of the floor seemed to hum with power, their warmth crawling up Jon's legs as he stood, mesmerized by the spectacle before him.
Jon stood there, at the edge of this sacred space, feeling the fire's pull deep within him. This was not a place for the weak-hearted. This was a temple built for those who sought not just knowledge or power, but redemption, purification, and the divine touch of R'hllor. The flames spoke here, and they were a voice Jon could feel in his bones, urging him forward, guiding him toward something greater.
As the last notes of the sacred chant faded into the evening air, the flickering flames of the great brazier settled, casting a calm glow over the gathered worshippers. The priestess who had led the ceremony, draped in her crimson and gold robes, turned and caught Jon's eye. Her gaze was unwavering, but there was a knowing in her eyes, a spark of recognition.
With a graceful motion, she gestured to him. Jon hesitated for only a moment before stepping towards her. The floor, warmed by the constant presence of flame, seemed to pulse beneath his feet.
As he approached, the firelight caught her features, softening them, casting a halo of light around her. She was younger than he expected, her hair dark like a raven's wing, her face serene.
Image: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/34340015905312651/
When he was close enough, she tilted her head slightly, an enigmatic smile playing at the corners of her lips. "The flames have spoken," she spoke, her voice carrying a deep, almost hypnotic cadence. "They said a new flame initiate was joining us."
Jon's heart skipped, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flooding his chest. This was what made Red Priests and Priestess terrifying, they had a wide range of mastery over the flame. Where the lesser orders only mastered one thing related to the flame, the Red Faith had their fiery god who revealed much to them.
She stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his with an almost otherworldly focus. "I have been waiting for you, Jon Snow," she said, as if she knew him, or at least something about him that he did not yet understand. "The fire has chosen you, and the path you walk now is one of divine purpose."
Jon would have been surprised but he wasn't with all he had been through this was just a parlor trick. "What should I call you then miss since you know who I am?"
"Azula," she bowed her head.
"So this is to be my path then?"
"The flames see beyond the mortal eye," she grinned. "They tell truths, secrets, and sometimes… they show us who is ready. And the fire has marked you."
Jon looked at her captivated by her beauty. There was a sense that she had been waiting, perhaps for a long time, for someone just like him. "Where can I get started?"
"Come," she urged, stepping back and motioning toward a smaller chamber behind the main altar. It was less grand but no less significant, the walls dimly lit by torches that flickered with a soft, steady light.
This inner sanctum was where the fire of purification rested. A brazier sat in the center of the room, flames dancing in a steady, hypnotic rhythm. The air carried a distinct smell of incense, mixed with something sharper, almost metallic like the burning of something ancient.
The priestess stopped before the brazier and turned to face Jon. She spread her arms, as if welcoming him to this sacred place. "This is where we are reborn. Where we take the first true step into the fire. To embrace it fully is to become it."
The fire in the brazier seemed to flicker higher, its heat intensifying. Jon felt a stir of anticipation, but also fear. Was he ready for this? To give himself completely to the fire, to be reborn in its heat?
The priestess raised one delicate hand, beckoning him closer. "Come, kneel before the flames. Let them burn away your doubts, your fears. You are not just here to learn. You are here to become something greater."
The High Priestess gestured toward the flame, and the flame seemed to grow, its heat intense and bright, but strangely comforting. Jon stepped forward without hesitation. The moment his fingers touched the flame, it did not burn. It welcomed him. The heat wrapped around him like a cloak, not destructive, but consuming in its warmth.
Jon could feel the power of it coursing through him. Not just the fire itself, but the power of R'hllor, the Lord of Light, surging through him. He could hear the whispers of the ancient ones, the voices of those who had come before, their chants blending with the crackling fire. He understood, in that instant, that this was more than just magic. This was a calling.
In that moment, time seemed to lose meaning. He was no longer just Jon Snow. He was something more, something eternal. He felt the flames of R'hllor ignite a part of him that he had never known existed. The fire was alive within him, burning away the remnants of his past, cleansing him of doubts, of fear, of the cold, harsh winters of the North.
"You are one of us now, Jon Snow," the Red Priestess said, her voice low and reverent. "The flame has accepted you. R'hllor has chosen you."
Jon closed his eyes, the heat of the fire filling his senses. For the first time in his life, he felt connected to something larger than himself. He was no longer an outsider, a mere seeker of knowledge. He felt as though he had found his purpose.
His heart beat in rhythm with the flickering fire, each pulse matching the rising and falling of the flames around him. The fire whispered to him not in words, but in a deep, primal language that transcended human speech. It was a song, a hymn of fire and light, of destruction and rebirth, of creation and purification. Jon could hear it now, in the deepest part of his soul, as if the fire itself was calling him home.
The Red Priestess stepped forward, her eyes glowing with a deep, fire. She placed a hand gently on his shoulder, "You are reborn in fire," the Red Priestess whispered. "Embrace the flame, Jon Snow. You are no longer just a man. You are a child of R'hllor, and through you, the world will be cleansed."
As Jon rose to his feet, the fire before him flared and soared higher, its heat a blessing, its light a promise. He felt it deep within, in every fiber of his being. He was now a flame initiate of the Red Faith.
With the fire now within him, Jon's journey in Volantis had just begun. He had chosen the path of the Red Faith, and with that choice came an oath, an oath to serve the flames, to use them not for domination or personal gain, but to purify, to protect, and to bring light into the world.
Jon had crossed into a new world, one where the flames would guide him, where the Lord of Light would shape his destiny. The Old Bloods may have been the hidden rulers of the city, but the Red Faith had divine fire on their side and it, Jon knew, could change everything.