Whispers tell of dragons, whose miraculous birth made the world tremble. Enkidu ponders such matters, but dares not question it. This world smells thick with magic, just as their ancient world did. And whatever magic such creatures wrought allowed for contradictions, people long buried like them, to breath in new life.
They did not see the ones who beckoned them from the Throne, only knowing the city's name, Asshai. But not a single Servant besides them hides within the shadows nor did they care for some ice and fire gods and its cult. Is there even a Grail War, I wonder. With a sore lack of purpose and Master, they immediately journey to the Slaver's Bay, to where the dragons lurk, to the 'Mother of Dragons'.
Several times along the way, Enkidu had to stop to slaughter ragtag bands of thieves and slavers who had chanced upon them. The roads remains long and perilous, yet they reach Astapor first, then Yunkai, and lastly Meereen.
Meereen's raised walls bring about bout of nostalgia, like the walls of Uruk. They almost feel as if they have been thrown back in time. Still, walls are nothing to them and soldiers, whose they're on matters not, cannot even see their gossamer image. They climb over within minutes. There and then again, people marvel at the flash of green.
Rumours soon flutter between the slave cities, of a green-haired "girl" whose strange words tame the beasts and with strength so mighty, swiftness so inhuman that it is magic.Those from Westeros had claimed that it was one of the Children of the Forest.
Filthy children point and touch Enkidu's long, celadon hair as they wander through the city. Some even pull strands to keep. Enkidu sings, just to play with their peculiar reputation, and men wept at such sorrowful songs. Though the city seems... normal, the scent of blood, of rot, is unmistakable. Harpies, the people whisper too, the sons of harpies. Enkidu only muses in dark delight.
"First, dragons and now, harpies. Wonderful."
Deep in the night, the streets mostly clear of its citizens, Enkidu skulks about. It's child play for them to track something or someone. Under a cloak of darkness, the verdant child finds their first prey. Naturally, to their great disappointment, men are not harpies.
They watch these false harpies kill freedman, soldiers, and sellswords. One of them even dares to try to assault Enkidu. They slap his face off quite literally. Part of a squished nose splats into the ground, eyeballs burst open. The skin of his cheek flaps like a banner. He screams, rolling on the ground, signalling the rest of the sons to disappear. Enkidu steps on his throat, ending his gurgled wails.
Some mangy dogs come to eat the man and his shredded face until the corpse is beyond recognizable. At dawn, he is counted as a victim, particularly brutalized, and Enkidu has already forgotten about it. But since they linger nearby the corpse, they find themselves being led by helmed, spear-men into a pyramid. When they speak to some other armed men, Enkidu struggles to remember which one language they are using, Common Tongue, Dothraki, Ghiscari, High Valyrian and a variety of bastard dialects. The Grail gives them all this bothersome knowledge.
They manage to catch those two words. So, from a child of the forest to a harpy. My, what a busy day. Guards lead them into another hall.
There Enkidu marvels at the sight of a beautiful young woman with hair and eyes of exquisite colour. They smell ashes on her, however faint. An old knight by his queen readies his hand at his sword's hilt. "Hm. You do not know strength like mine." They say in their native tongue, the unified language. That too is magic. No one had ever heard such words yet there is perfect understanding. Suspicions well up.
Out of courtesy, the mud doll bows ever so slightly. It is strange gesture in the eyes of the silver queen's court, neither Yunkish, Tyroshi, or Meereenese. Not even Westerosi.
"So, the dragons are not lies at least. That's pleasing to know." With a smile, Enkidu gazes at her, unabashed and undaunted. Some view it impudent and dangerous. This stranger bows to no authority.
