Wright and Jon crossed the plank to the ship's deck. Jon looked around at those who had already boarded and asked, "Won't Teacher Leaf and the others come?"
Wright replied, "They wrote to me saying they'll come to Tyrosh when they have the time. The Children of the Forest live for a long time, and their sense of time isn't like ours. They have plenty of time and aren't as impatient as we are. Go ahead and put your luggage in the cabin."
The broad deck was filled with dining tables and chairs. With so many mages together, no one was concerned about the possibility of rain, and they had turned the area into a place for dining.
Apart from the busy sailors, the people on board could be roughly divided into three groups.
On one side, tables were laden with a variety of gourmet dishes, where a few older mages like Qyburn and Maester Marwyn sat, eating and chatting leisurely.
Jon walked over to greet a group of young mages in their teens, including Sansa, Jojen, Meredyth Crane, Jeyne Poole, and several other apprentices. All of them were already of age or soon to be, putting on the demeanor of adults as they conversed, though in truth, they were still children who had never faced hardship.
Jojen Reed had already been granted the formal title of mage. His family was skilled in hunting, with excellent ancestral techniques, and with the backing of a greenseer, Wright had tailored a learning plan for him. His major was magical stealth and archery, while his minor subjects included various throwing weapons, axes, war hammers, and swordsmanship. A black raven perched on his shoulder.
Jojen was tall and lean with a youthful face. Though he usually walked around with his hands in his pockets and carried nothing, once combat began, all his weapons could be summoned instantly through magic, and his deep purple magical gear was even sharper than regular steel weapons. With the help of the raven's visual connection for reconnaissance and his eagle-eyed long-range vision, his summoned bow could easily hit a target's head from five hundred meters away. Afterward, he could use stealth and invisibility spells to retreat, and he was also skilled in close combat.
Jeyne Poole, originally the daughter of Winterfell's steward, had come along with Sansa to serve as a maid. Upon arriving at the magic school, Wright, not one to let apprentices enjoy luxury, had employed her as the school's handyman.
As the school grew and more students arrived, the second batch of apprentices were children from noble families, many of whom couldn't even dress themselves when they first arrived. Jeyne had become Qyburn's assistant and the school's life tutor. Now, in front of the younger apprentices, Jeyne was a terrifying figure—if they didn't listen to her, she'd be ready to flip their blankets off.
Meredyth Crane, from the Reach, had enrolled alongside Sansa. She is of First Men blood, a descendant of the Green Hands, with exceptional skinchanger abilities. On Wright's suggestion, she had sent her crane back home and raised a hawk instead. In terms of magic, she excelled in healing and nature magic, particularly adept at both types of restorative spells. Qyburn had already suggested that once she graduated, she should stay on as a teacher. Qyburn, who enjoyed studying the dead, had plans to work with Meredyth to research and develop new forms of magic: true resurrection spells.
Wright refrained from commenting, not wanting to dampen their enthusiasm.
Through exchanges in Tyrosh, Wright had come to understand that the so-called resurrection magic practiced by the Lord of Light's faction was merely a passive healing spell injected into a body. Only their form of resurrection had some merit, as it could retain a sliver of the original soul's awareness. However, after studying it closely, Wright realized that resurrected bodies were compelled to obey commands to block blades, and preserving the deceased's awareness only led to disobedience. This approach had been abandoned long ago in the world of the Elder Scrolls.
The most lively part of the ship was the bow, where tables were piled high with various candies and pastries. Several young apprentices, of different ages, were shouting at each other. Wright looked up and saw a few of them had even climbed the sails. He didn't bother with them; after all, they all knew basic entry-level magic, and climbing a mast wouldn't be fatal to them.
Wright sat down at the table where Qyburn and the others were sitting, flipping open a booklet on the table. "This is the list of children with magical potential in the Seven Kingdoms?"
"It's a list compiled this year by the Magic School and us, based on our travels," Qyburn explained. "They're still young. When they reach the appropriate age, we'll send them invitations to come to school."
Unlike Wright, who could sense magic from afar, Qyburn and the others had to rely on physical contact to inject a small amount of magic into someone's body to test their potential. If the person experienced pain or spasms, they lacked magic potential. If nothing happened, it meant their body could withstand magic.
The list contained children no older than five, and Wright glanced at their surnames, noticing something unusual.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but the families of children with magical potential used to have First Men or Valyrian bloodlines. But since the return of dragons and the surge in magical energy, children with magical potential have begun to appear in families without these bloodlines!"
"Now that you mention it!" Qyburn and the others leaned in, discussing the histories of the families on the list.
Wright watched the young apprentices laughing and playing, his mind wandering to deeper thoughts.
Families with strong magical potential naturally had descendants with high ceilings for their magical power. However, these new children born after the magic surge, while they had magical potential, had a much lower ceiling for their abilities.
Over time, two rigid classes of mages would inevitably emerge. Right now, mages weren't concerned with their origins. As long as they were granted the title of mage by the kingdom, they could secure decent positions in various lordships. Moreover, the three magic schools, all under Wright's influence, exchanged ideas frequently. Wright was confident that if he called upon the mages of the Seven Kingdoms for war, he'd have an army at his command. But what about a hundred years from now?
The more Wright thought about it, the more troubled he became. He didn't want the magical system he had created to collapse from within. Just then, the captain approached him with an issue, briefly lifting Wright from his worries.
Wright had met the old veteran of the royal fleet, who had earned merit in Tyrosh. After injuring his eye, he used his reward money to purchase a merchant ship and now specialized in passenger vessels between King's Landing and Tyrosh: "Lord Wright, here are the invoices for you."
Wright took the invoices, which included the cost of the trip and the bill for the meat purchased for Odahviing, and after signing them with the pen handed to him by Qyburn, returned them to the captain: "Our people are already aboard. It's almost noon, why haven't we set sail yet?"
The one-eyed captain patted his sparse hair: "Haha, Lord Wright, rest assured, we won't waste any time. My ship is renowned for being fast!"
After throwing the invoices to the workers on the dock, the captain quickly organized the sailors to row out of port. As the ship left the harbor and set its course, the white sail was unfurled, and Wright's party began their journey.
At the King's Landing harbor, a well-dressed merchant was walking towards the city with a set of invoices when he suddenly saw a beggar sitting on the ground, hugging his knees, and shivering as he looked at the distant sailboat.
The merchant was puzzled, wondering how there could still be beggars in King's Landing since they were all supposed to have been transported to Tyrosh by Lord Wright. He stopped and asked, "Hey, where are you from? If you're hungry, go report to the Gold Cloaks. Someone will arrange for you to sail to Tyrosh!"
The beggar's greasy, tangled hair covered his face. He lifted his head, revealing only one eye: "Tyrosh? Is there food?"
The merchant smiled broadly: "Yes, not only food, but you can work for money as well. Lord Wright is a great philanthropist!"
"Wright, Wright... Ah!" The beggar suddenly started screaming in pain, clutching his head.
The merchant then noticed that the beggar wasn't shivering from the cold or illness, but his hands were trembling uncontrollably: "What's wrong with you?"
The beggar glanced at the small dot of the white sail on the sea, slowly stood up, and said to the merchant, "Thank you, I'm fine now. I feel much better."
The merchant, seeing how emaciated the beggar was, felt pity: "There was a lad who used to help me shovel pig manure, he was good, but he disappeared. I still need help, if you can't find work, come help me. The pay isn't much, but it's enough for you to eat."
"Can I do it?" The beggar's stomach growled loudly.
"Of course. I'll let you take a bath and have a meal first, then you can work. Follow me," the merchant said, walking ahead to lead the way.
"Thank you very much." The beggar spoke little.
As they walked, the merchant said, "By the way, what's your name?"
"Jaqen H'ghar!" The beggar finally gave in to his hunger and followed the merchant.
The merchant, hearing his footsteps, chuckled: "Haha, a dragon has made me the largest pork merchant in King's Landing. Doing business with Lord Wright is a pleasure, so I'm learning to do good deeds like him."
"Ah!" Jaqen H'ghar collapsed to the ground again, looking at his trembling hands in agony: "Am I truly useless, unable to hold a knife ever again?"
Jaqen H'ghar, the top assassin from Braavos's Faceless Men, had been interrogated by Wright using unskilled magic years ago. His soul had been torn apart, leaving lingering effects. His hands constantly trembled, and at the sight, sound, or even thought of Wright's name, he would be consumed by excruciating pain. Now, even survival had become difficult.
The merchant, seeing him fall, quickly asked, "What's wrong with you now?"
After a while, Jaqen H'ghar, drenched in sweat, replied, "I'm hungry!"
Seeing the beggar's near-death state, the merchant began to worry about whether Jaqen H'ghar would die on the road and hesitated, not daring to leave him: "You seem ill. I can help you with work, but I don't treat sickness. Here's what I'll do: I'll have someone take you to the Navy recruitment office. They have children of the forest who can use magic to ease your pain."
"Join the navy?" Jaqen H'ghar, only thinking of food, knew that sailors often worked with sails and oars and didn't need to handle knives, making it a good place to be.
Meanwhile, during Wright's return to Tyrosh by ship, Dorne took another step towards internal war.
Nymeria made an official statement: Anders's army had stationed in Sunspear, using this as leverage to force a marriage between Trystane Martell and his daughter. He also killed the guards of Prince Oberyn, insulted the Martell family by parading Oberyn in shackles, and set fire to Doran and Oberyn's property, kidnapping Trystane. If this traitor wasn't dealt with, Trystane would be the next to die, and Anders claimed he could control all of Dorne by simply picking any child.
Nymeria, under the title of Oberyn Martell's first heir, declared Anders Yronwood a traitor and called for his death, intending to save the Martell family members.
Immediately after, Lord Anders Yronwood also issued a statement, claiming that Oberyn had long been exiled and had conspired with Wright to murder Quentyn Martell, which was considered patricide, and thus he had forfeited his claim to Dorne's inheritance. He also argued that Oberyn had spoken disrespectfully, cursing House Yronwoodto extinction, and that he personally had to duel with Oberyn and defeat him by force, without any insults involved. The marriage between Trystane and his daughter was also a legitimate arrangement, approved by Prince Doran, as they were of similar age. As for the fire, it was an accident—or perhaps something that Nymeria orchestrated. Nymeria, in fact, was the true rebel, and Wright was the mastermind behind everything. Both Nymeria and Wright aimed to replace the Martell family and allow House Baratheon to conquer Dorne!
It was well-known across the continent that Quentyn had been killed by Wright, and he had previously had verbal sparring with Doran and Yronwood. Both sides had their arguments, and many things that happened in between were not known to outsiders, making it clear that this was a power struggle at the highest level. Many of Dorne's more astute nobles were reluctant to get involved.
However, with the Stormlands and the Riverlands' armies now stationed at Boneway and the Prince's Pass, setting up blockades and military fortifications while cutting off trade routes, Dorne's economy was greatly affected, which in turn hit the noble families' incomes. The desert's agricultural output had always been limited, relying mostly on trade in minerals, gemstones, and spices to procure food to meet the growing population's needs. With the trade routes now severed, the lords whose territories weren't close to rivers were forced to consider raising armies and engaging in battle.
Both sides had their supporters, and conscription orders were issued in due course.
The issuance of conscription orders meant that all able-bodied men in the territories were required to take up arms and join the military. Large numbers of farmers and urban civilians picked up their family's spears and the leather armor buried deep in their chests, heading to the military camps. Dorne had a more egalitarian view on gender, so many women were also incorporated into the forces.
Lord Anders had previously raised a standing army, but with the conscription orders now being given, he spent all his wealth, selling everything he could to purchase weapons and armor, swearing to defend Sunspear and Yronwood. He also immediately arranged for Trystane and his daughter to consummate their marriage, hoping for the birth of a Martell heir.
At this point, ravens had little use, and both Nymeria and Anders sent out messengers to the formerly neutral Dornish nobles, offering promises to sway them to their sides in exchange for benefits.
Meanwhile, in other regions of Westeros, Dorne's civil war was seen as a grand spectacle.
Stannis even privately set up betting pools with various Dornish lords and famous knights, wagering on their survival in the war.
When the news reached Lord Anders, he was furious, seeing that the odds of his own death were barely above 1-to-1—this was how little faith they had in him!
Tension was building across Dorne, with only minor skirmishes occurring—mostly between the messenger forces of both sides, and there hadn't yet been a battle involving more than thirty people. At this time, nearly all the Dornish nobles sent letters to Tyrosh, seeking Wright's intervention.
Wright's ship still had several days' journey to reach Tyrosh, and with various factions interfering in Dorne's affairs, Wright was deliberately delaying his arrival to force Lord Anders into a corner and provoke his descent into madness. The Westerosi nobles valued reputation and justice, and so this war had to be initiated by Anders first.