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Asshai

Quaithe's steps echoed through the empty streets of Asshai. She was no stranger to the city's eerie silence, but in the wake of recent events, the silence offered a comforting assurance of safety.

Quaithe was a shadowbinder. Asshai was home to many like her, as the city had always been a sanctuary for those who delved into the dark arts. Ancient beyond measure, some believed Asshai was there at the dawn of creation, while others whispered it was the capital of a long-forgotten empire.

The dark arts were a perilous path, one that Quaithe had walked with utmost caution. Yet, nothing could have prepared her, or the city's inhabitants, for the horrors unleashed in recent months.

Shadows, once subdued servants of Asshai's shadowbinders, had escaped their master's control to roam freely. The initial onslaught claimed many lives; novice shadowbinders were no match for the unleashed demons.

She, alongside others, managed to fend them off, yet many shadows still roamed, killing indiscriminately. The city had fallen; It was something she never imagined she would witness in her lifetime.

She knew of a ship that was supposed to arrive here in a few months. She and five others had planned to get out of the city on that ship, but now she was the sole survivor. Two had fallen to the shadows, while the remaining three had been swayed by a newly formed cult to journey to the city of Stygai.

She had heard rumors of happenings in the city of Stygai; they were very disturbing, to say the least. Many had left upstream along the Ash to join their ranks.

Her musings were abruptly cut short by a piercing shriek, causing her to stumble against a wall nearby.

"A shadow is nearby," she thought looking at the oily black stone most of the city was built with.

They were getting stronger, but thankfully, they were not able to leave the city. To her shame, she did not know the reason. The last few months had been a humbling experience for her, as she learned the true extent of the power of the shadows and the dark arts she had dedicated her life to mastering.

She navigated through the labyrinthine alleyways, taking a detour to the docks. She stopped suddenly as she felt a shadow stalking her. It was not long before it made its move, a formless entity lunging towards her with a chilling screech.

Quaithe quickly conjured a protective aura around herself, a skill only mastered by the most adept shadowbinders. The shadow recoiled as if burned and retreated. Steadying her breath, she pressed on.

She emerged from the maze of alleyways; the docks came into view. The ship that awaited her was a modest vessel. The crew, visibly terrified and confused, were prepared to depart.

She approached the ship and, without a backward glance at the city, she boarded it.

"We must leave quickly," she told the captain.

"What happened?" he asked, his voice trembling.

"We have to leave now, lest the shadows consume us all," she replied sharply.

The captain quickly nodded, understanding the urgency in her tone. He barked orders to his crew, who scrambled to prepare the ship for immediate departure.

Standing on the deck, Quaithe watched Asshai shrink into the distance. The city's ominous silhouette, with its towering black spires, seemed to dissolve into the darkness it was born from.

She wanted to find the source of all this chaos; she wanted to find who or what caused this small resurgence of magic, and she knew exactly where to start.

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The five forts

The five forts were colossal structures of ancient and mysterious origin. It was manned by soldiers who guarded the lands of yi ti from the dangers from the Shrykes and beyond, into the ominous expanse known as the Grey Wastes.

Lately, the men in these forts have been on edge due to reports of sightings of beings that seemed neither alive nor dead; the undead, some claimed, had risen. Initially dismissed as the exaggerated tales of weary soldiers, these sightings soon became too frequent and too consistent to ignore.

When a large group of men were sent to investigate, only five returned alive, telling tales of necromancers and an army of the undead.

This forced the commanders of the five forts to hold an urgent meeting, a rarity that had not occurred in centuries, not since the War of the Six Emperors.

Five men sat at a round table: Commander Liang Wei of the First Fort, known for his strategic acumen; Zhang Jie, the stoic and resolute commander of the Second Fort; Commander Huo Guang, the youngest of the commanders but renowned for his bravery, of the Third Fort; Wang Feng, the wise and composed commander of the Fourth Fort; and finally, Commander Zhao Ming, the veteran leader of the Fifth Fort, known for his decades of service.

The meeting was tense, with each commander sharing their reports of the eerie sightings and the disturbing news trickling in from the scouts and patrols in the Grey Wastes. The descriptions of the undead-like beings were eerily similar across the accounts: lifeless eyes, decaying flesh, and a great violence when the living were nearby.

After much deliberation, it was decided that the gravity of the situation warranted immediate attention from the highest authority in the land—the imperial court of Yi Ti.

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A delegation was selected from all forts for the mission to the imperial court. Among them were messengers, scholars, and a few seasoned warriors, each chosen for their unique skills. As they were leaving, Commander Zhao Ming addressed the group.

"What you bear is not just a message, but the safety of our empire in your hands. The sightings of these undead beings from the Grey Wastes could herald a threat unlike any our empire has faced. You must reach the imperial court with all haste and deliver our report to the Emperor's advisors."

The delegation saluted and set out on their mission, understanding the full weight of the responsibility they carried.

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Volantis

Inside a small room in the Temple of the Lord of Light in Volantis, Melisandre sat in prayer, seeking guidance from the Lord of Light.

For months, the priests and priestesses of R'hllor had been receiving visions, but only a few had been able to make sense of them. Some claimed R'hllor was trying to warn them; others claimed he was guiding them towards something. There were even some heretics who claimed it wasn't R'hllor sending them visions, but the Great Other.

This had caused a great rift between the followers of R'hllor, many factions had been formed and the temple was always in some form of discord.

She had been praying to her lord for a clearer vision that would illuminate the path the Lord of Light wished her to follow.

She gazed into the flickering flames dancing wildly before her. Melisandre focused her gaze into the heart of the fire, letting the world around her fade away.

Then she saw it: the Lord of Light had answered her prayers. The vision was vivid, more so than any she had received in recent months.

A golden man with a spear appeared, his presence commanding and powerful. The vision changed, now showing the man freeing people from shackles. It changed again, showing the golden man taming a wild stallion with ease. The next vision shook Melisandre to her core; it was the golden man again, but this time he was fighting against the cold that sought to devour the world.

As the images faded, Melisandre sat back, her mind racing with questions.

Was the golden man a champion chosen by R'hllor to lead the fight against the darkness? Had R'hllor showed her Azor Ahai.

Or was her lord warning them of a rival, one that could challenge him?

Conflicted, Melisandre went to share the news with the high priest, hoping he could offer her some insight into the visions.

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Beyond the Wall

Brynden was in the lands of Always Winter he had never been able to come here but ever since the surge in magic eight months ago he had been growing in power as well. It was his first attempt coming here, as his companions had warned him not to do it.

He walked upon the snow that never melted, under a sky devoid of warmth.The world around him was an endless white wasteland where life dared not whisper. Ice formations, towering like ancient, frozen sentinels, pierced the skyline, their surfaces shimmering under the light of the moon.

As Brynden ventured deeper into this frozen abyss, the air grew colder, a cold that seeped into his bones, a reminder of the unnatural force that held dominion here.

Then he saw him, sitting on a throne of ice: the Night King. His armor was like the night sky, adorned with frost that sparkled like stars. His skin was as pale as the moon, and his eyes, deep blue, were glaring at him.

The Night King raised a hand, and the wind howled louder. He began panicking as the Night King stood up from his throne and walked towards him. Suddenly, he was pulled from his vision, his heart racing in his chest. He was back in the cave, the ancient weirwood roots embracing him.

He saw Leaf looking at him with a grave expression.

"What did you see?" she asked.

"The Night King," Brynden replied. "He grows stronger. It's too soon."

Leaf nodded, a somber expression on her face. "Something has arrived in this world, something that has upset its balance."

"What?" Brynden asked.

"I do not know, but I think we shall find out soon," she said.

Brynden closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The battle for the dawn was near. He hoped that whatever had come to this world would be an ally to the living.

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Jason reclined in the chair, the courtyard of his mansion offering a perfect vantage point to watch the sunset. He felt the cool air brush against him as he watched the sun disappear over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange, pink, and gold.

The sound of footsteps interrupted his thoughts as he saw Cyra and Dara approaching. They were bringing him the food he had asked for. He had found that there was a dish similar to shawarma here, so he had asked them to prepare it, with some changes, of course.

"You've outdone yourselves. This is fantastic," he praised, drawing bright smiles from Cyra and Dara.

Jason returned his gaze to the sunset. Everything was going according to his plans.The city and the lands under him were at peace; his rule was solidifying, and the people served his every need.

"This is the life," Jason said, taking another bite and enjoying the beautiful sunset.