WILOW-Ch.412: Eliminating the Last Remnants
Dorne
POV of Domeric Bolton
2 weeks later.
Domeric sat on a beach in Dorne with a chair and table, along with a huge umbrella to give him some shade, while Raksa stood behind him for protection.
He drank some lemonade and watched the waves slowly reach the beach before receding into the ocean as the seagulls flew in the distance.
All in all, it was a beautiful day, and he realized that he should spend at least a few days like this with Ygritte. Just traveling the world, having a picnic in exotic places, and just having a good time.
But right now, he was not here for a good time.
"Watch over my back. And inform me if someone comes here." He told Raksa, who gave him a nod, before he looked at the Valyrian Glass Candle and poured his consciousness inside it.
A second later, his consciousness flew a few hundred meters above the place where his real body was slumped over the table, and he looked around the area.
Once he was reasonably sure that there was no one around their current position, he flew a little high, and the signs of civilization became visible to him.
Some 30 kilometers north of their current position, he could see a large river with a bustling town near it.
'That must be Planky Town.'
He looked south and saw a castle some 10 kilometers away.
'Lemonwood Castle.'
Flying a little higher, he could now see a small city farther north that could be nothing other than Sunspear.
Satisfied with his findings, he maintained his current altitude and flew to the east at a speed far faster than anything his wyverns could even hope to achieve.
After 20 minutes of flying and searching, he finally came across a large armada of ships sailing in the open ocean and moving toward Dorne.
He counted and found about 450 ships in the armada.
'Impressive.' He thought.
Especially considering how Admiral Muron started the journey with only 50 of his best ships.
If they were able to take the Lannister ships as well, then the number would almost reach 500.
He almost salivated at the thought of the armada joining his fleet, which would then cross the 1000 ship mark and reach 1,100 ships.
That was only 100 ships behind the Redwynes, who had 1,200 ships in their fleet.
That fact alone made his chest puff with pride.
He didn't even know why he cared so much about his fleet. He just did.
But now was really not the time for this.
He gave one last look at the armada before flying to the north.
After flying for almost half an hour, he finally came across another fleet. This one was much smaller, comprising only 45 ships. 30 of which were the coveted Swan Ships.
He drew closer and took a proper look at the Swan Ships, noted their current location, then quickly flew back to where his body was.
He came back and entered his body.
His eyes flew open, and he closed them immediately and shook his head to remove the vertigo in his brain.
"Urgh…" he groaned as the world stopped spinning.
"Are you alright, Dom?" Raksa asked, and he nodded.
"As well as I can be." He replied before looking at the new, expanded trunk lying on its side and opening it.
He put his head inside and shouted, "Vothora!! Roghomyr!! Come out!!! It's time."
He then stepped back and backed away some more. For a few seconds, nothing happened.
"Uhh… Dom." Raksa said from behind him, "Are you sure they didn't fall asleep in…"
At that moment, a large wing came out of the small mouth of the trunk. Then another wing and soon enough, a large head came out of the trunk. The wyvern looked at him and then pushed itself out of the trunk with two riders, one conscious and one unconscious, on its back.
Once it was out, it stepped away from the trunk, and a few seconds later, another wyvern came out of the trunk.
Once they came out of the trunk, he closed it and shrank it down to size before putting it in his pocket.
At that moment, both the skinchangers Vothora and Roghomyr woke up, and the wyverns went back to being wyverns.
"My Lord." Roghomyr bowed from his seat on top of the wyvern before he looked at the beach and the vast desert behind him and frowned. "What are we to do this time?"
"This place is fucking hot," Vothora complained before the skinchanger gave him an apologetic look and quickly took off the leather clothes he was wearing and put them in his bottomless pouch.
He raised an eyebrow and then cast a cooling charm on all four of them.
They gave him a grateful smile, and he started, "There is a fleet of 45 ships, some 200 kilometers up North-East of here." He said and gave them a compass and the location of the Lannister Fleet. "You're to go there and burn five of their ships with wildfire. Then drop the papers that I gave you on the remaining ships."
The wyvern riders nodded, and he used transfiguration to make a miniature model of the Swan Ships.
"You're not to burn any ship that looks like this." He said, "Burn the other ones."
"That's easy enough," Hogha said.
"It'll be done, my lord," Thistle replied.
He smiled at them and nodded, "You've got everything that you'll need in your bottomless pouches. Go now."
They nodded at him before the wyverns took a few steps toward the sea and flew off into the distance.
A few seconds of silence before Raksa poked at him, "What should we do now, Dom?"
"Now we wait." He said with a smile.
"But waiting is so boring," Raksa whined, and he rolled his eyes.
"You were the one who wanted to come with me." He said, then took out a book to read.
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Next Chapters' Name:
Ch.413: Loss of Last Hope
Ch.414: Prince Doran Martell
Ch.415: I Intend to Make Dorne a Kingdom