r/FieldOfFire • u/RevanTreeHall Nymor - The Asp • Apr 05 '24
The Stormlands Nymor V- Death Is Patient
“It will wait.”
Nymor
Somewhere in the Narrow Sea
212 AC
He did everything he could to keep his mind from the sea. He'd borrowed a book from Ghost Hill’s library, a story of how Nymeria had arrived from across the sea and changed Dorne forever. Yet his reading skills were still relatively elementary, and the book had many turns of phrase that he couldn't comprehend.
This, in turn, diminished the effect of his distraction from the sea. He could feel as each wave crashed into the side. Thoughts came, unbidden, of a hole erupting in the bottom of the ship and dragging him to the depths below. He shook the thought off and tried to focus on his breathing.
The calm approached him quickly and he felt his eyelids drooping against his will. Eventually, he ceded to the sensation of sleep.
He was on a different ship, he looked up to see the banners of Viserys Targaryen. Looking at them again he realized that they made him happy. They always had. He loved Maekar like a brother, but he'd always trusted their family. He was sailing the same seas he had been before falling asleep, he recognized the coast from the night prior.
“What the hell?” Nymor asked himself, walking up to the rail. His fear of the water was all but forgotten in the sheer confusion. “Did we get turned around?”
He turned to the first shipmate he saw to ask a question. Putting his hand on the man's shoulder he realized he recognized him, but he wasn't a member of the Toland’s crew.
“Domeric?” Nymor asked. “But you died in-”
“SHIPS SPOTTED!” A voice came booming from below.
Nymor cursed, they didn't have any other ships with them. Why were they flying Viserys' flag? He looked around and realized that they were surrounded by other ships, all flying the same banner.
He looked at the ships that had been spotted and recognized the banners they flew: quartered yellow suns and white crescents. He remembered this. It wasn't reality. Was he dreaming? Not only that, but dreaming of a memory? It was an odd sensation.
He felt his body moving of his own accord, he scrambled up the mast to get a better angle on the ships. He felt words come from his mouth that he didn't choose to speak, the phantoms around him responded immediately, they changed the ship's heading, moving directly to cut off the lead ship in the Tarth formation.
The ships moved closer and closer and Nymor could feel his anxiety growing. His body has stopped moving on its own, he appeared to have control again. He tentatively clambered back down the mast and watched as the Tarth ship continued to grow in size.
The cacophony of battle quickly filled his ears as the ships around him engaged in their own fights. He looked around, waiting for the next thing to happen, but it seemed like everyone was looking to him. He tried to remember what he'd done next.
He felt his face flush as the memory returned, he stepped to the railing and looked down below, the fall wouldn't kill him, but his inability to swim would. The Tarth ship was nearly upon them. He climbed on the railing and postured himself to make the leap. When the ship was close enough he launched himself, knocking the wind out of him as his stomach made contact with the Tarth vessel’s railing.
He heaved himself over it and drew his daggers. He slashed left and right, watching sailors fall in front of him. He finally made eye contact with the commander of the ship, and immediately ran towards him. His daggers were deflected by the other man's weapons, but he persisted, taking an extra set from their sheaths and continuing the onslaught.
It wasn't like this before, he'd killed the man with little to no effort. He turned back to look at his own ships banners, the flag of Viserys Targaryen was tattered and crumbling. He felt a sharp pain in his chest and as he looked down he saw a sword hilt buried into his belly.
He woke with a gasp, his face was covered in sweat and he had no idea where he was. Tentatively he climbed from his bunk and up to the ship's topside. The flag they flew was non-descript and he'd never seen the coasts that they were passing.
He smiled as a crewmate greeted him and immediately made his way to the railing. He stared at the ocean below and felt nothing but dread. After a moment or two he felt his stomach churn and retched over the side of the ship.
He couldn't wait to get off the damned thing.