Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord

Simply increasing the energy used by Syndor would consume all the dragon bones Gavin had obtained from one expedition. Without venturing to Valyria again, acquiring more of this rare resource would prove difficult.

As Gavin pondered the dwindling reserves, the wind and waves of the open sea grew increasingly turbulent. The Belerys rocked violently, its timbers groaning under the pressure. Gavin gripped the ship's railing tightly to maintain his balance, the salt spray stinging his face. With a reluctant sigh, he released Syndor. The dragon roared as it soared into the stormy skies, its form vanishing into the clouds in search of prey. Gavin steadied himself and hurried back to his cabin.

Arrival at Braavos

A month later, at dusk, the fleet finally arrived in Braavos.

Braavos, the most prosperous and powerful of the Free Cities, lay at the northwest tip of the Essos continent. A city of islands, it spread across hundreds of them, located where the Narrow Sea met the Shivering Sea. Behind the city stretched a vast swampland, and it was surrounded by mountain-like islands. The city's only natural access was a gorge wide enough to accommodate ocean-going merchant ships, a passage guarded by the legendary Titan of Braavos.

As the fleet drew closer, the towering statue of the Titan loomed over the horizon, its imposing form carved from stone. Gavin stood at the bow of the Belerys, staring up at the colossal figure, his heart pounding with a mixture of awe and curiosity.

As the Belerys neared the harbor, a small boat approached the fleet. Tyron Reyyan, envoy of the Sea King, climbed aboard and bowed deeply before Gavin.

"Welcome, Sir Gavin. I am Tyron Reyyan, sent by His Highness the Sea King to greet you."

Gavin smiled politely. "Envoy Tyron, you are too kind. I am grateful to His Highness for the invitation, which allows me to witness the marvels of Braavos firsthand."

Tyron Reyyan returned the smile, his round face beaming. "Sir Gavin, His Highness has prepared a seaside villa for your stay. Tomorrow evening, a grand banquet will be held in your honor. The harbor has also been arranged to accommodate your fleet and soldiers. Once we reach the docks, I will personally escort you to your villa to rest."

Gavin nodded graciously. "Please convey my thanks to His Highness for his thoughtful arrangements. I will have Special Envoy Lau assist you with any further details."

Tyron's gaze swept over the deck, his expression turning slightly curious. "Sir Gavin, if I may ask, I've heard that you brought your dragon with you. Why haven't we seen it?"

Gavin replied smoothly, "Syndor has flown out to sea to hunt. Moreover, I thought it best not to let it fly near the city to avoid alarming the people of Braavos."

Tyron Reyyan chuckled. "You are considerate, Sir Gavin, but there is no need to worry. In fact, the people of Braavos would be eager to catch a glimpse of your dragon. Even His Highness and I are most curious to witness its majesty."

Gavin inclined his head politely. "Perhaps later. Syndor will not return for some time. Once it does, I will ensure you and His Highness have the opportunity to see it up close."

As the Belerys passed beneath the Titan's shadow, Gavin marveled at the statue's scale. It was hundreds of meters tall, its massive legs straddling the narrow gorge. He couldn't help but wonder how such a colossal structure had been built.

Tyron noticed Gavin's fascination and began to explain. "The Titan was constructed by the fugitive slaves who first settled here. Under the guidance of the Moonsinger, they reached this remote location and devoted years to crafting the Titan from local stone."

Gavin glanced at Tyron. "I've heard it can produce sounds. Is that true?"

Tyron's chest puffed with pride. "Indeed, Sir Gavin. The Titan is not merely a statue—it is also a fortress and an alarm system. When enemy ships approach, the Titan roars, warning us of the danger. It stands as both a guardian and a symbol of Braavosi independence."

Gavin nodded thoughtfully, though his mind turned to other possibilities. The escaped slaves who had built Braavos had fled from Valyria's dragonlords. Was it possible the Titan had been designed not only to defend against seaborne invaders but also to repel dragons?

The fleet sailed past the Titan and into the gorge, flanked by cliffs studded with ballistae and trebuchets. Braavos' formidable defenses became even more apparent as Gavin noted the fortresses perched along the cliffs and the scores of purple warships docked in the harbor.

Tyron continued his narration as they entered the bustling harbor. "The purple dye you see on our fleet comes from the sea snails harvested here. Our ancestors, the escaped slaves, dyed their stolen ships purple to disguise them. The tradition has endured, and now the Purple Fleet is a symbol of Braavos' naval power."

Once the Belerys docked, Gavin stepped onto the crowded pier. The port was alive with activity—merchant ships from Qarth, the Summer Isles, and even the distant Jade Sea Isles unloaded their wares, while customs officials meticulously inspected each vessel.

Tyron led Gavin to the Wheel Palace, a grand carriage reserved for honored guests. Gavin's Blood Dragon Guard followed closely as they traversed the winding streets of Braavos.

From the carriage window, Gavin admired the city's unique architecture. Stone arch bridges spanned the canals, connecting the islands, while the Sweetwater River brought fresh water from the mainland. The bustling streets were lined with markets, workshops, and taverns, their lively atmosphere a testament to Braavos' wealth and diversity.

Breaking the silence, Tyron turned to Gavin. "Sir Gavin, His Highness wishes to inform you that two others of your kind will attend tomorrow's banquet."

Gavin raised an eyebrow. "My kind?"

Tyron quickly clarified. "The exiled brother and sister of House Targaryen."

Realizing the Sea King's curiosity, Gavin smiled faintly. "Ah, I see. However, let me make this clear—while my ability to control dragons may seem similar, it does not come from House Targaryen. Valyria had forty Dragonlord families, and my lineage descends from another."

Tyron bowed slightly, his tone deferential. "Thank you for clarifying, Sir Gavin. I will relay this to His Highness and ensure the siblings are present at tomorrow's banquet."

As the Wheel Palace rolled toward Gavin's villa, he glanced back at the Titan's silhouette, now fading into the twilight. His thoughts turned to the challenges ahead, the exiled Targaryens, and the ever-watchful eyes of Braavos.