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Chapter 242: The Aftermath of the Doom
🕑 Added 2025-04-01 12:42:07 +0000 UTCMore than a month had passed since Lynd had exerted his divine might over Qohor. In that time, spies from various Free Cities and kingdoms stationed in Qohor had relayed news of the event to their superiors through the fastest means available.
Soon after, rulers and influential factions sent envoys to Qohor to verify the reports. The accounts delivered by their spies were simply too extraordinary to be believed. What they described defied all logic—especially the details about Lynd. He was no longer spoken of as a mere man, but as something far greater, a being of true divinity.
However, when these envoys arrived in Qohor, they saw firsthand the devastation that remained. Large portions of the city still lay in ruins, and the people they spoke to recounted the events of that fateful day in fearful, reverent tones. Gathering all the information, they sent their reports back to their respective rulers, and in the end, no one could deny the truth—Lynd had single-handedly destroyed half of Qohor.
With that realization, Lynd’s name spread once more—not just throughout the Free Cities and Slaver’s Bay, but even to the distant lands of Yi Ti. This time, however, the titles associated with him expanded. In addition to names like "Chosen of the Seven Gods" and "Storm God," he was now also called the "God of Magic" and, more notably, "the Calamity Incarnate." Of these, Calamity Incarnate quickly gained prominence, threatening to eclipse all others.
Ironically, Melisandre had initially assumed that the destruction of the Black Goat God's shrine would weaken its faith, leading many of its followers to abandon it. She had expected the Red Temple to claim those lost believers. Yet, reality proved different. Not only did the Red Temple fail to win over these converts, but even some of R’hllor’s own followers defected. They did not turn to the Black Goat—but instead to a new faith: the worship of the Calamity God, a faith that had emerged in the wake of Qohor’s near destruction.
Extreme fear, when coupled with extreme power, inevitably breeds extreme devotion.
Although the worship of the Calamity God was new to Qohor, and its object of reverence was none other than the very being who had razed the city, those who had witnessed Lynd’s descent from the heavens, bathed in radiant light, found themselves incapable of hatred. Instead, as the faith in the Calamity God took form, they all became his followers—including those who had lost their loved ones at Lynd’s hands.
Without exception, these believers were zealots. Their fervor fueled the rapid spread of the new faith, and in just a single month, the worship of the Calamity God had risen to stand alongside the Black Goat Church and the Red Temple as one of Qohor’s dominant religions.
The leader of this faith, its first High Priest, was a man named Mafas Pansien—a scion of the powerful House Pansien, one of Qohor’s ruling elites.
His wife and children had perished in the cataclysm Lynd had unleashed, swept away and shattered by a tornado. Yet, rather than hatred, Mafas developed a profound and unwavering devotion to Lynd. When he noticed the faith in the Calamity God beginning to take root in the Lower City, he was among the first to join. Using his family’s influence, he expanded the religion’s reach, ensuring that it rapidly gained prominence, securing its place as Qohor’s third great faith.
However, it was not his devotion that earned him the title of High Priest. Among the Calamity God’s worshippers, there were many whose faith burned even brighter than his. What set Mafas apart was his knowledge—his ability to structure and define the faith. Drawing upon his studies of religious doctrine, he composed the Codex of Calamity in a remarkably short time, providing the new faith with a foundational scripture for preaching and conversion.
Within this codex, he outlined the divine authority of the Calamity God. The most significant doctrine was this: those who perished in disasters would have their souls fall into the hands of the Calamity God. There, in a place called the Realm of Catastrophe, they would undergo penance for the sins of their past lives. Only by embracing the faith of the Calamity God and atoning for the sins of their loved ones could the faithful hope to reunite with those lost to disaster. In death, they could journey to the Realm of Catastrophe, find their departed kin, and—through faith—construct a vessel to ferry them away, across the abyss, to the far shore of paradise, where eternal happiness awaited until the very end of time.
Once the codex was complete, Mafas delegated missionary duties to other priests. He himself took the codex and joined the convoy escorting House Soyed to Westeros.
To Mafas, no matter how well-written the codex was, it meant nothing without the Calamity God’s own approval. He needed to stand before Lynd, present the sacred text, and receive his blessing and recognition. Only then could he truly claim the title of High Priest of the Calamity God.
...
Mafas was not the only one to join the convoy. A great number of mages had also chosen to accompany the procession. Wizards, alchemists, dark warlocks, necromancers, cloud sorcerers, blood mages, and fire priests—nearly two-thirds of the Qohor Mage’s Association had departed with them. It was no exaggeration to say that the city's entire magical order was now en route to Summerhall.
It was no surprise that the members of the mage associations reacted this way. After witnessing Lynd’s ability to manipulate the weather itself, every magic practitioner who revered arcane power saw him as the embodiment of magic, a prophet, or even the God of Magic.
Among these people, the faith in the God of Magic began to spread. Although it did not expand as rapidly as the worship of the Calamity God, and its followers were fewer in number, those who did believe were deeply devoted. Much like Mafas Pansien, they collaborated to compile a sacred text—the Codex of the God of Magic.
During its creation, the Aeromancers were the most enthusiastic contributors. Nearly half of the codex was written by a dozen of their members, and the remaining sections were refined and revised under their guidance.
Their fervor was understandable—because in Lynd, they saw the ultimate manifestation of the magic they had spent their lives mastering.
Despite Qohor’s open acceptance of magic, most of the Essos continent regarded sorcery as a dark and dangerous force—one that was often banned or heavily restricted.
The Aeromancers, however, were an exception. Not only were they free to practice in the Free Cities, but even religious institutions did not classify them as heretical.
This was largely due to their mastery over air magic, an element that was both practical and beneficial. Aeromancers could predict storms for seafarers, summon rain to parched lands, and purify polluted air. In a city like Qohor, where forges and smelteries filled the streets, their purification magic ensured that the people were not suffocated by smoke and soot. Without them, the city would have been buried under an unbreathable haze, incapable of sustaining such a large population.
Because of this, the Aeromancers held a uniquely privileged position in Qohor. Yet, even they—despite their status—chose to embrace Lynd as a prophet and dedicate themselves to the faith of the God of Magic. Their devotion bordered on fanaticism. Without hesitation, they wrote letters to their counterparts in other Free Cities, urging them to travel to Summerhall and follow Lynd as well.
...
The convoy departing Qohor was massive—comprising over two thousand members of House Soyed, including both direct and collateral relatives, as well as associated retainers, servants, and hired workers. They were escorted by two thousand Unsullied and a thousand mercenaries. Alongside them were hundreds of mages from the association, more than a hundred followers of the Calamity God, and a vast amount of wealth—both assets confiscated from House Soyed and the reparations Qohor had paid to Lynd.
This formidable procession did not take the more convenient river route. Instead, it traveled along the Valyrian Roads, bypassing Norvos and heading toward Pentos. From there, they planned to set sail for King’s Landing before making their final journey to Summerhall.
Within days of their departure, news of the convoy spread across the Free Cities.
Everyone knew that the caravan carried an astonishing fortune. Even setting aside House Soyed’s millennia-old wealth, the mere shipment of Valyrian steel that Qohor had offered as compensation to Lynd was beyond measure—its value could not simply be expressed in gold.
Many coveted the treasure, yet no one dared to make a move.
They understood all too well—this fortune belonged to Lynd. Anyone who laid a hand on it would have to face his wrath. The last family that had crossed him had been utterly ruined, their entire bloodline reduced to prisoners. No one wanted to be the next House Soyed.
Not only did no one attempt to steal from the convoy, but many city-states along its route went out of their way to ensure its safety. Whenever the wealth passed through their domain, local rulers would send their own men to assist in its protection—fearful that any mishap on their land would be seen as a slight against Lynd. No one wanted to be the next Qohor.
...
While the Free Cities of Essos buzzed with discussions about Lynd and his growing legend, the man himself had already set sail aboard a vessel from the Miracle Merchant Guild, entering the Sea of Dorne on his way toward Miracle Harbor.
A month earlier, he and Marwyn had traveled down the Rhoyne, reaching the mouth of the river at Volantis.
Upon arrival, Lynd had chosen to remain outside the city. He did not announce his presence or step within its walls. Instead, he sent Marwyn ahead with his token to contact the Miracle Merchant Guild, instructing them to send a ship to rendezvous with him at sea.
His reason for avoiding Volantis was simple—he did not wish to be drawn into the city’s internal power struggles.
Through Marwyn, he had already learned that tensions between the Tiger Party and the Elephant Party had reached a boiling point. Several high-ranking figures on both sides had been assassinated, and the atmosphere was so volatile that civil war seemed imminent.
However, Lynd was well aware that Volantis would not descend into open conflict—at least, not yet. That was, as long as he did not interfere. But if he were to step into the city, he would be forced to take a side.
Alios Qhaedar, a key figure in the Tiger Party, was an ally of Lynd. Not only was he a high-ranking member of the Miracle Merchant Guild, but he was also the sole distributor of the Elixir of the Seven in Volantis.
Yet, this did not mean that Lynd had poor relations with the Elephant Party. In fact, compared to the Tiger Party—whose primary trade was in weapons—the Elephant Party had a far more diverse commercial relationship with Summerhall. Many of the rare commodities unique to Essos were obtained through their networks. As such, the Elephant Party played a crucial role in Summerhall’s economic expansion.
For now, Lynd had no intention of entangling himself in Volantis' factional disputes. His focus remained on his own plans—ones that would soon shake both Essos and Westeros alike.
If Lynd were to take a side in Volantis’ political struggle, the balance would be shattered instantly, leading to inevitable civil war. However, he still needed Volantis to serve as a focal point, drawing attention where necessary. He couldn’t afford for its strength to be wasted on internal conflict. That was why he chose to avoid Volantis entirely, steering clear of its political turmoil.
...
Aboard the ship, Lynd reviewed the intelligence reports that had arrived the previous day. One report from Braavos quickly caught his attention—the treasury of the Sealord’s Palace had been robbed, and a set of magical armor had gone missing.
From the moment he read it, Lynd sensed that something was off.
The Sealord’s Palace treasury was one of the most heavily guarded locations in Braavos, protected by intricate traps and layers of security. Even if someone had managed to bypass all defenses and enter the vault, it should have been impossible to steal the enchanted armor. The unstable frozen dragon rune embedded within it would have instantly killed anyone who touched it.
But as he thought about it further, Lynd realized he had been too hasty in his assumptions. It was true that anyone attempting to wear or retrieve the armor directly would have been frozen to death. However, if someone had prior knowledge of the armor’s workings—if they understood that its power source was a Valyrian steel nameplate inscribed with the frozen dragon rune—then they could have removed the nameplate first. By sealing it away in an enclosed container, they would have effectively neutralized the armor’s deadly enchantment, making it possible to steal.
“I think you should take a look at this,” Marwyn said, handing Lynd another intelligence report. As someone who assisted in processing information for him, Marwyn had a keen eye for details. “This might be connected to the Sealord’s Palace theft.”
Lynd took the report and scanned it. His brows furrowed slightly.
The report stated that Euron Greyjoy had been spotted in Braavos, and his presence coincided precisely with the time of the treasury heist. Furthermore, when he departed, he had taken a large, sealed chest with him. Witnesses claimed to have glimpsed through the gaps in the container, spotting what appeared to be a crystal coffin inside.
“A crystal coffin?” Lynd immediately grasped what Marwyn was getting at. The coffin Euron had taken was most likely the same one that had been stored in the Sealord’s Palace—the one containing the remains of an ancient civilization’s member who had not yet been transformed into a White Walker.
Lynd had mentioned this to Marwyn before, and the latter had always been fascinated by ancient civilizations. He had conducted extensive research into their remnants and had even expressed a desire to travel beyond the Wall and to Braavos to investigate firsthand. The mention of the crystal coffin in the intelligence report had triggered an instant connection in his mind.
“What does he want with the crystal coffin and the enchanted armor?” Lynd muttered, puzzled.
“He wouldn’t be trying to create White Walkers, would he?” Marwyn speculated offhandedly.
Though Marwyn had spoken without much thought, Lynd felt an uneasy certainty creeping into his mind. Given Euron’s unpredictable and deranged nature, the idea wasn’t entirely far-fetched.
In that moment, Lynd regretted not having taken both the enchanted armor and the crystal coffin himself when he had the chance. No matter what Euron intended to do with them, it could not possibly be anything good.
After some deliberation, Lynd quickly drafted an order, signed it, and handed it to the ship’s captain.
“Send this out using the letter hawk,” he instructed.
The message was simple yet urgent: The Miracle Merchant Guild was to keep close watch on Euron Greyjoy’s movements. If his whereabouts were discovered, they were to capture him at all costs.
Lynd had just elevated Euron Greyjoy’s threat level.
...
A few days later, as Lynd arrived in Miracle Harbor, news reached him—Braavos’ Sealord had dispatched a fleet in pursuit of Euron Greyjoy. The chase had led them to the waters near Skane Island in the North. There, Euron’s ship had run aground on the rocks and sunk. He was presumed dead, lost to the sea.
The report was conclusive. But Lynd didn’t believe it for a second.
To him, Euron was still alive. The so-called death at sea was nothing more than a deception.
And if he was right, then Euron Greyjoy had likely already ventured Beyond the Wall.
