Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and all rights for characters, plots and settings belong to G.R.R. Martin and George Lucas. I have no ownership.
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"It is standing atop the summit of a great mountain, the winds tearing about you, then finding yourself buried alive. Trapped, helpless and alone. It is knowing what you want to say and never finding the words. It is a chorus replaced with silence. Hearing teachings without meaning. It is like having the energy of youth, then feeling the cloak of years fall upon you and knowing you are weak, fragile, and a thing easily discarded. It is like a beloved pupil to whom you have shared everything, sacrificed everything, then having them turn on you and forget all you were."
Kreia, Living without Force
"It is like a cloud, a mist that drifts from living creatures to creature, set in motion hy currents and eddies. It is the eye of the storm, the passions of all living things turned into energy - into a chorus. It is the rising swell at the end of life, the promise of new territories and new blood, the call of new mysteries in the dark."
Kreia, What Force feel like
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There is no ignorance; there is knowledge.
There is no fear; there is power.
I am the Heart of the Force.
I am the revealing fire of Light.
I am the mystery of Darkness
In balance with Chaos and Harmony,
Immortal in the Force
Je'daii Order Code
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Braavos
Year 298 AC (After Aegon Conquest)
Raevan
He stopped, staring at the massive building looming before him, made of yellowish stone, probably sandstone, devoid of any superfluous features or ornamentation. The only distinguishing feature was a set of three or four-meter-high double doors. One door was white and made of weirwood; the other, of dark metal.
Gazing at this place, the burning fury sleeping deep within her tried once again to break free from the shackles he had placed upon her. The whispers of the Dark Side intensified, offering sweet promises of power and vengeance.
But Raevan was already powerful enough, and he would exact his revenge on his own terms. His body was young, true, but his mind and experience could have been shared by several other Jedi Masters or Sith Lords.
It wasn't the first time he'd lost someone, though he'd never felt it to this extent.
The entire place was permeated by the same emptiness that the Faceless Men exuded, though much of it remained visible in the Force. It felt more like it had been imbued with the presence of its killers for hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years.
If he'd arrived before they launched their attack on his family, some of them would likely have escaped. But now, the same trick wouldn't work on him twice. Contrary to appearances, if you knew what you were looking for, in the sea of trillions of creatures the Force flowed through, it was easier to spot those where it wasn't present.
He reached out with the Force, grabbing both massive door panels. He ripped them free with ease, then began crushing them until they became balls of compressed material no larger than a human fist. He then scooped them up in his hands and tossed them into a small bag strapped to his waist.
A dark corridor opened up before him, and the only source of light came from the sun's rays, which, however, only reached a few meters.
Without hesitation, he stepped inside, his footsteps echoing off the corridor walls. As he might have predicted, no one was waiting to greet him, and the killers didn't dare confront him directly. Instead, they hid like rats, adept only at killing defenseless women. Fuckers.
He allowed a bit of his held-under-control anger to manifest within Force, and he drew more of the Dark Side than ever before since his rebirth.
He entered the massive oval chamber...
Inside, thirteen hooded figures awaited him... more than he expected, but fewer than he'd hoped. None of the figures commented on his intrusion. In fact, they didn't react at all, standing motionless.
Raevan stopped a few meters away, his purple eyes focused on the figure on his right, from whom emptiness and wrongness emanated more strongly than from the others. He didn't know if this was some kind of leader or simply the most powerful among them.
"I'm glad you're not begging for mercy," he said, smiling, but there was no joy in it. "It will spare us much tragedy. The crime you committed cannot be forgiven."
"We have slain thousands of men, women, and children, obedient to the will of the Many-Faced God," the figure in the center spoke, and Raevan couldn't even tell from the tone of the voice whether it belonged to a woman or a man. "One woman changes nothing. All are equal before him. Valar Morgulis."
Raevan laughed bitterly. "Right now, what you should be concerned about is that it doesn't work that way for me. You killed my mother… the woman who gave birth to me, who held me in her arms when I was weak and defenseless. Who spent sleepless nights by my bedside when I was sick."
With these words, he waved his hand dismissively, and their hoods were blown from their heads, revealing the impassive faces of men and women. Each face seemed carved from stone, devoid of emotion, shorn of any personality or humanity.
"Therefore, I swear, Force is my witness, that you will not taste death but will know tormental service through eternity! As you say... Valar Dohaeris." After these words, he took off the cloak covering him, revealing a complex symbol carved into his skin in the center of his chest, which glowed with red and then purple light.
The ritual had begun; now the proper sacrifice had to be delivered. Raevan spread his hands before him, channeling the pure energy of the Dark Side and directing Sith Lightning of monstrous proportions against these abominations.
Lightning bolts struck them at tremendous speed. Their bodies began to shake from the electricity and Dark Side coursing through them, and his opponents, who tried to flee but couldn't outrun lightning, were transformed into smoking, blackened corpses; that then crumbled to dust.
At that moment, the glowing red symbol on his chest began to glow with a purple light, so bright that even Raevan had to close his eyes. He sensed the souls of the Faceless Men, escaping their bodies and bound by some death-cold chains; they changed direction and began to be sucked into the symbol on his chest.
The entire process took only a few seconds, but he had to grit his teeth because the pain was unbearable. It wasn't physical pain, but rather one that affected his soul and mind, which took on the full pressure of binding the souls of his opponents to his will.
Now they would serve him as long as he lived, a period he hoped would be a very long one. He only regretted that he had not been able to do the same to those who had directly killed his mother.
Unfortunately, the Sith ritual he used took time to prepare, not to mention that Raevan had modified it, mixing the Dark and Light Sides of the Force together to create something far more powerful than the Sith had ever done.
Further proof that neither the Dark Side nor the Light Side could be judged from a moral perspective. Not when the latter could be used in a ritual to enslave someone for eternity.
Raevan sighed slightly, feeling no real relief, though he'd expected this. Vengeance couldn't bring back his mother, but it could ensure he wouldn't lose anyone else. With that in mind, he set off deeper into the temple to root out the remaining "rats," certain some still lurked.
Passing the dust of the Faceless Men lying on the ground, he suddenly stopped, sensing something had changed. Force suddenly recoiled, but not in fear, if Force could feel such a thing, but in disgust, revulsion, and contempt.
He had seen many strange things in the hundreds of years he had lived, but this was the first time he had seen Force truly disgusted by something.
He looked around the room where, despite the lack of wind, suddenly the barely smoldering torches and lamps began to go out as if they had been blown out.
Raevan immediately sharpened and adjusted his vision to the darkness brought on by the Force and then felt a shiver run down his spine. For a presence in the chamber not only bore no connection to the Force, but also, above all, despite its lack of physical presence, he felt a crushing weight on his shoulders.
It wasn't any aura, killing intent, or other such bullshit, but simply the presence of a being so powerful and yet so primal that the world around him reacted to it in this way.
His mind filled with images of dying worlds, fading stars, vanishing galaxies, and an eternal cold consuming the universe. Suddenly, the Force's visions vanished, and he realized what he was dealing with. Absolute entropy and the end of everything, or at least a fragment, some form representing that concept.
The faces all around him, thousands of them filling the stone shelves on the walls of the chamber, suddenly began to melt, flowing to the ground like a viscous liquid, forming streams that gathered into a large puddle a few meters in front of him.
Raevan watched all this seemingly calmly, though he was gathering so much Force within himself, both Dark and Light Side, that he could barely keep control over them as both tried to consume him.
The puddle of thick goo soon began to form into a humanoid form, growing more and more human with each passing moment. The entire process took no more than a minute, but to Raevan it seemed to drag on forever.
The creature that finally stood before him resembled a human being only in shape. Its limbs, pale as snow, were too long, but it was its face that was most terrifying, constantly changing in a way that seemed both disgusting and absurdly natural.
In a matter of seconds, the face changed shape dozens of times. Only one thing remained constant: shimmering sapphire blue eyes, full of malice and yet as empty as the very depths of space.
"You are quite a thorn in the side of the Little Prince, just like your ancestors. While Brandon and Erik could dream of your potential, they stalled my plans for 8 millennia," the being spoke in a deep, yet surprisingly human, voice. Yet though its tone seemed calm, even slightly amused, Raevan sensed an unfathomable fury within it through the Force.
"What are you?" he asked, ready to attack at any moment, though he didn't know how effective it would be, for every nerve in his body screamed that the being before him was dangerous. "From the display of those melting masks and constantly changing face, I gather you are the being called the Many-Faced God."
Isota laughed without an ounce of humor, and Raevan couldn't be sure where the sound was coming from, as this "god's" face kept changing. Besides, the sound itself resembled the cracking of ice.
"I am and I am not," the being before him finally replied. "I have many names, and none are true; none have meaning. I am that which awaits all living things; I am the one who will be present at the last moment of existence and experience the universe's final breath. I am the one who will remain."
Raevan frowned at these words, but though cryptic, they seemed to confirm what he sensed within Force. The being before him must be a manifestation of death, or perhaps rather, absolute entropy.
"What do you want from me? If you've come to kill me, believe me, I'll be very
Suddenly the creature's face stopped changing and became the face of his mother, who smiled naturally broadly, revealing a mouth full of needle-sharp teeth.
Raevan wanted to throw everything he had at this foul beast, but he restrained himself with a titanic effort of will. This was precisely what this monster wanted: to lose control and become easy prey.
"I'm impressed," the entity said, in his mother's voice. "Few would refrain from attacking you if they were you... Of course, I'm not counting those who wouldn't have the courage to attack me."
After these words, silence fell between them. The creature tilted its head, observing him intently, while Raevan himself was taut as a string, seething with the Force within him, eager to burst forth.
"You asked me what I want from you... The truth is that I want nothing. Your ancestors, in their cunning, chained me to this planet, and all I want is to break free from these bonds."
Raevan's eyes widened slightly in shock as he saw the previously invisible chains of pure Force enveloping the creature, extending further into the earth, disappearing dozens of miles beneath the surface.
Raevan wondered how even the Force could hold such a powerful being, but apparently his understanding of the Force was still rudimentary, despite all he boasted about.
"So you don't have to worry. As you can see, I'm not here to kill you. I just wanted to let you know that maybe all these magisters and others like you aren't your biggest concern, and to let you know that I'm just... here."
Raevan didn't need to hear this, as in the last few minutes he had already placed this entity at the top of his list of dangerous opponents, far ahead of the rest.
He didn't know how his aforementioned ancestors had managed to bind this thing to this planet, but it was no small feat, something he couldn't replicate with his current knowledge. Perhaps it was time to delve into the past and learn more about his ancestors.
"Well, I hope we never see each other again." He turned to the monster in his mother's face, which burst into laughter, distorting Lyanna Stark's face into an expression Raevan would like to erase from his memory.
"Hahahha. I'm surprised. I expected more of a declaration along the lines of 'I will stop you at all costs' or 'I will not rest until I destroy you, you wretched creature.'"
"Do I look like a fool to you? How arrogant do you have to be to say something like that to a being that probably remembers the creation of the first living cell, or even the birth of the first planet?"
The creature bared its inhuman, sharp teeth at these words: "Finally, someone sensible among your species has arrived?" I have a feeling the game ahead of us will be exciting, for what satisfaction would it be to destroy a blinded fool?"
The creature looked around the chamber around them. "I guess I won't have any more use for these losers. Until next time."
With these words, the weight of the monstrosity's presence descended upon the chamber once more, and a wave of energy emanating rot, decaying flesh, and corruption struck Raevan, nearly knocking him off his feet. Only the protective cocoon of Force that enveloped him saved him at the last moment.
In perhaps 10 seconds, the House of Black and White around him vanished forever, leaving him floating in midair, enveloped in a bubble of Force. Neither the temple of the Many-Faced God nor the small hill on which it stood remained.
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Braavos
Year 298 AC (After Aegon Conquest)
Ferrego Antaryon ,Sealord of Bravos
Ferrego Antaryon had been Sealord for over two decades, years filled with mostly peace, barring minor skirmishes with pirates or other Free Cities. However, since winning the war with Pentos, Braavos' dominance in this part of Essos was unquestionable.
Combined with the fact that the Iron Bank, the largest institution of its kind in the known world, was headquartered in his city, gold flowed steadily into his coffers, and the Braavosi fleet grew into the strongest fleet on the seas.
Over the past year, rumors began to reach him from merchants, which were soon followed by reports with more specific information from his spies. Diplomatic movements between Volantis and Myr, and frequent travel by magisters between the various Free Cities.
The first enlistment of slaves by Volantis since the Century of Blood. And many other minor things that, taken together, painted a very grim picture.
War.
And on a scale not seen in centuries, perhaps even since the war between Valyria and Rhyonars, if, as his spies claimed, Westeros was the target of this forming alliance.
According to the knowledge he had, the Targaryens could field an army of over two hundred thousand men and that, leaving sufficient forces in reserve, and with their current economic growth and the constant flow of gold, they had the logistical resources to maintain such an army during a long campaign.
Not to mention the fact that a faction of powerful sorcerers from Asshai were involved in all this, and Raevan Targaryen himself proclaimed himself an anointed of the Seven, gods of the dominant religion of the Western Continent, and he could perform miracles.
His spies and members of the Iron Bank who were present in King's Landing during these events were convinced that the young prince was also simply a sorcerer and this whole prank was simply a manipulation of the masses and, judging by the results, an exceptionally effective one.
Knowing in advance that it would be extremely difficult, he would try to remain neutral and use the future conflict to strengthen Braavos' position, while the other Free Cities and the Seven Kingdoms bled each other dry.
However, he was forced to abandon all these plans when, a few days ago, he received news of the Targaryen assassination and the death of Queen Lyanna. The final nail in the coffin of his plans came from rumors, later officially confirmed by King Rhaegar. The Sorrowful Men had attempted to assassinate Prince Raevan, while the Faceless Men were responsible for the queen's murder.
Prince Raevan then personally swore in the Great Sept of Baelor that he would utterly destroy both assassin guilds. Ferrego understood upon receiving this news that neutrality was out of the question, and he should consider himself fortunate that the wrath of the Faceless Men's sorcerer did not spill over into Braavos itself, the city that has been the home of this organization since its inception.
With a sigh, he signed a flourish on the document on the desk in front of him when Qogen, the captain of the harbor guard, burst into his office without knocking. The man, clearly out of breath, fell to one knee before him. "My lord. Targaryen. Prince Raevan Targaryen's ship has just docked."
Ferrego closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to stay calm. Then he looked at Qogen and ordered, "Do nothing. Don't let anyone dare attack him."
The man looked at him for a moment, clearly surprised by the order, then bowed his head. "As you command, Your Lordship."
With these words, Qogen left, and he was left alone with his thoughts, consumed by anxiety, waiting and hoping that his instincts had not failed him in this case.
To distract himself, he returned to examining the documents before him. He silently prayed to every god he had heard of that the prince would take his revenge on the killers and leave the city.
When about half an hour later he was roused from his work by strong tremors and a sudden icy cold that penetrated him despite the hot day, he knew that the Faceless Men were probably no more.
Rising from his desk, he walked out onto the balcony, which offered a view of most of the city, including the small hill where the House of Black and White stood. Or rather, he should say that it should have stood. Neither the building nor the hill remained.
Ferrego tore his eyes away from the sight, feeling his hands tremble uncontrollably. He returned to the chamber, feeling the weight of power weighing on him more strongly than ever. He sat down heavily in his chair, waiting to see what would happen next. He understood that against someone capable of such destruction, his soldiers would be useless.
He didn't have to wait long for Vergo, his chamberlain, to enter the chamber, knocking on the door first. His longtime servant and friend's face was pale, and he was clearly no less shaken than Ferrego himself had been earlier.
The Sealord looked at him, finally feeling the weight of his years. "Vergo, speak. What news do you have?"
The old chamberlain gathered himself and said, his voice trembling slightly, "He is here, my lord. Prince Raevan... He wishes to see you."
Ferrego frowned. "You mean he's waiting downstairs?"
"No, my lord. He is here. Behind the door. None of the guards dared stop him; everyone stood frozen. Not even your First Sword, Qarro, dared to draw his weapon against him."
Fergo cupped his face in both hands. Tired and irritated, he was not at all ready for the conversation that awaited him, one that would likely decide his fate and the fate of his city.
"Let him in," he said after a moment.
Vergo nodded, then opened the chamber door wide. The Sealord noticed a figure in black armor and a cloak with red embellishments standing a few steps down the corridor. A moment later, the figure entered the chamber, sitting in the chair across from him without invitation.
Ferry immediately sensed the oppressive presence that accompanied the prince. The air became heavier, and breathing became more difficult. He felt as if he were standing in front of a dangerous animal ready to devour him.
Although feeling unworthy, he rose to greet the prince with arms outstretched and a smile on his face. "Prince Raevan, it's an honor to finally meet you. I've heard so many good things about you."
The prince, however, remained silent, his purple eyes staring at him with unwavering calm.
When the young prince spoke, however, Ferrego wished it hadn't happened.
"I wish I could say the same, Sealord. I had a good opinion of Braavos and hoped for a fruitful cooperation between us in the future, only to have the Assassin Guild nesting here murder my mother."
Ferrego paled at these words, his tongue catching in his throat.
"Prince Raevan, I am certain that..."
He couldn't finish the sentence, however, as the prince raised a hand, and he felt something tighten around his throat, cutting off his breathing.
"Ferrego Antaryon. Listen carefully to what I have to say, for I will not repeat myself," the prince said to him, and the pressure on his neck suddenly ceased.
Ferrego took a sharp breath, then another, trying to calm his racing heart. Prince Raevan continued,
"You will gather the keyholders and all the important mages present in the city in the palace and announce to them... that from this day forward, Braavos and all its territories are subject to me. The same applies to the Iron Bank. Refusal will result in what happened to the House of Black and White being inflicted upon the city."