The day was hot enough in the kingdom’s harbour to work without the need of loose skin and as a cold salt-water wind rushed across the deck of his ship, Lich il forte e Silensioso welcomed it with a sigh of relief and the raising of his two arms. Trading had been going well this season seeing as Valinsport waters were free of smugglers and pirates had been scarcely sighted crossing the vale since the last summer was upon them. “All goes well Captian?” signed the most recent of his fresh water bretheren; a young man from the cape of Whitetree in the south with strange green hair and pale skin similar to that of freshly sprouted tree root. The hand signs had been a skill Lich had picked up in the Far East where he’d encountered considerable difficulty in understanding the common bravos tongue and as a result, a fair portion of his crew had tried their hands at learning it as well. Peytr, as he was called, had been one of the small few who’d proven successful. “The sun blazes and the wind is cool, all is well.” Replied the serpentine male, his hands changing into a variety of shapes before he placed an “x” across his lips and gestured to the harbour, indicating his next instructions thusly. “Silence would do well here; our coin purse will check his books and visit the seaport for trade”

With his meaning known, the sword dancer sighed as he carried a large wooden crate over to the ship’s bank, where soon they’d send out a ridge to offload their goods. The male had become bronzed sailing constantly over the eastern seas and his hair, which was pulled back behind his eye-catching features in a black head scarf, had taken on a lighter shade of russet. It was longer as well flowing down into the slope of his middle back where it ended in a series of wild dreads. His face remained unchanged, smooth-shaven and slender save for a sharp beard that had taken residence under his bottom lip and a pair of studded gold piercings that protruded from his right eyebrow. The only true change in his appearance worth mentioning was to be found in his eyes, or one lack thereof, for his left was covered by a dark-leather eye patch and his right was a soft emerald green. Of his attire, the dark-skinned male had draped his white mandarin shirt over the ship’s rail where its bloused sleeves flapped in the salt-breeze and beside that he’d hung a silver sleeveless vest. His abdomen was layn threadbare while his legs were clad in black satin cloth and coupled with brass buckled, brown leather boots that layn cuffed under his knees. All in all, he seemed suited to the role of a captain as was fitting of the brown double brimmed hat he wore atop his head-scarf with a silver feather tucked into its crown.

As the winged female caused a gale to spurn the sails of the ship, a group of dark-skinned deckhands leapt from the game of dragon tak they’d been playing as the crates for trade had been brought up deck. One slightly larger than the rest began to call after the pale woman angrily in an eastern tongue while several of the crew who’d taken notice left their ropes and pulleys to reach for the hilts of their weapons. “This is no place for woman” called one of the crew in a sullied speech of the common tongue, running his scarred fingers under his chin as if to ward off an omen before spitting one the deck of the ship “You bring ill luck vampyr..”. With his statement made, several others took after him and ran their fingers under their chin whilst one clutched a sack cloth that hung from around his neck. It was the blonde male who saved her, or rather saved them from an imperial’s wrath as he motioned to Lich from the far-side of the ship “A winged woman comes” he signalled before pointing to the port-side of the ship with a mistrustful expression, remembering only too well the danger they’d faced when last a stranger had entered their mists; a siren of the ocean she’d been no less..

As the one-eyed captain turned to face his approaching companion, his iris sharpened suddenly before a sinister numbing of the senses overwhelmed the enraged crew, casting them into silence. “No danger..” he signed to those who could understand before coming face to face with the pale Anaksunamun of many coloured visions. As her hand laced with the toughened muscle of his left arm his other delved into the slight of her hip before wounding into the curve of her lower back pulling her in tight to his abdomen. Her scent was that of the wild forests of the kingdom where’d he spent many a day hunting and resting in the browning leaves, fresh herbs and the fragrance of wildflower and wildlife. As she simply gazed into what was left of his sight, he sighed leaning down to press his forehead against hers as she had intended; and with that, the sword dancer allowed her into his mind. Wild seas of froth and white mist stretched as far as they eye could see and jutting forests of stone leapt from sand dunes and islands long lost from memory. Ancient runes and carved hovels served as roofs while hammocks and lavish sheets churned to the motions of the gentle waves. Blazing dawns and sunsets of every colour laced her mind in all manners of kingdoms and strange civilisations while silvery moon-lit nights illuminated stilled waters that appeared to mirror the heavens above so it seemed the world was neither high nor low but everywhere. All manners of races and characters, beasts and flying folk, birds of prey and glorious dragons filled the lands where’d he been and lastly there was nought left but a vision of the kingdom drawing ever closer but never close enough to reach. “There is beauty beyond these lands..” spoke a voice in her mind, aged but young, strong yet silent, smooth and yet rough. It was similar to nothing that she had ever heard or would ever hear again. It was a voice that held power. It was then that Lich kissed her, long and passionately with his arms wrapped taught into her comely hips and deaf to all but the crashing of the waves and the scent of Annak and the salt water breeze.

As the imperial spoke unto the dark-skinned men of the Braavos isles, their glares darkened but none would dare speak haughtily in the presence of the one-eyed silver dragon. They slipped their hand from the hilts of their weapons before turning from the female, some muttering and other tossing an eastern curse in her wake before settling back to work. “They mean no harm my lady, we are but simple men here and suspicious by nature” spoke the male known as Petyr as he turned from his captain and the pale woman he held close to his side. The storms they had braved were periled by none other than harpies and other such creatures that took on the alluring form of a women, beautiful and yet terrifying to behold as they’d dragged dazed men over the aisle of their ships. Even for the crew who had family in the Kingdom and knew of the difference between and a creature and a loving wife, still looked upon her with subtle distrust and a pinch of fear. Such a simple thing it was, fear, and yet it turned hardened soldiers of the seas into broken men.. As Anak sighed into the warmth of his embrace, Lich stared into her ever-changing eyes silently in apology, though he knew too well that was the way of the distant oceans. Either a man changed to the customs and the dangers of the far-off civilisations or he found they changed him unwillingly; the way of a land could drive a man to madness, to the point he would dribble froth and think to feast upon his own flesh and blood. These were the kinds of men he’d had to leave behind, as so he left parts of himself where’er he roamed. There could come a day he knew where he would arrive on the stone-cobbled shores and have only one arm to hold her if he was so lucky; and then it would truly be time to layn down his arms and take on the simple life of a common man. “Only you..” motioned Lich with his left hand, unaware to her knowledge of the language of hands, before using it to stroke the luminous complexion of her skin.

It was true; he shared no love for this land and the people who dwelled within it. There was freedom and contentment to be found beyond these plains and he sought to bring her with him when next he roamed, for surely he would raise his sails again; the salt water was in his veins and he would yearn for it again soon enough. As Anak spoke of leaving his men to their duties, the emerald-eyed brigand nodded his understanding before giving a shrill whistle to the men that lay by the sides of the crates loaded upon the deck and gestured to the master of coin that hung by the entrance of the top cabin; a wistful old man with a grey beard and little or no hair left upon his head. “Split coin for men’s pay..” motioned Lich before rubbing his fingers together in a manner that brought a grin to the faces of the crew nearby. For those who knew little of his language, they knew this meaning well enough and with a chorus of voices in both the common tongue and the speech of the eastern and Braavos men, the crew swelled together before loading the crates onto their shoulders and taking them off-deck, albeit with a narrowed gaze at the walkway of ice.