A fleet departed from Gohor and sailed southward.
Its black sails resembled shark fins cutting through the sea as it sped toward Volantis, a thousand miles away.
What excited the soldiers was not merely the prospect of military glory, but also the sense of purpose that came from fighting for their king.
Among the Dragon Cavalry Viserys dispatched were three hundred Guardsmen and three hundred Water Mages.
Their numbers were small, but their quality was unquestionable.
To make the Dragon Cavalry resemble Volantis's Tiger Cloaks, Gerold had soldiers paint tiger-like tattoos across their faces.
Aboard the flagship, Gerold, Marcus, and Malaqo were discussing their plan to ambush and assault the temple.
"If we attack the temple directly, our casualties will be enormous. We need a way to lure Benerro out first."
Studying the map of the temple that Malaqo had provided, Gerold quickly realized it was hardly a temple at all.
It was practically a fortress.
Not only were the outer walls exceptionally tall, but archers were stationed atop them as well.
The triarchs within the Black Walls had long wanted to move against the temple, so they possessed detailed knowledge of its internal structure.
"Exactly. Even a siege won't be enough.
Benerro has stockpiled grain inside the temple. More and more people in Volantis have converted to the Lord of Light over the years.
The longer this drags on, the worse it will be for us."
Gerold nodded.
He understood that this battle had to be swift and ruthless.
From what he knew, the pyromancers who had once plagued King's Landing also worshiped R'hllor.
Viserys had never revealed to anyone exactly who had killed him on the Holy Mother's Mountain.
Not to Freygo, not to his subjects, not even to his family.
His official explanation remained simple:
This was revenge against the pyromancers who had deceived Targaryen kings for nearly a century.
If he revealed now that the Targaryens were facing actual gods, many people would fall into panic.
Therefore, Viserys intended to destroy the temples and shrines of the Lord of Light throughout the Free Cities as quickly as possible, then eliminate Robert within a year.
At that moment, Malaqo suddenly thought of a solution.
"Now that dragons have returned, news has surely reached Volantis already.
Many worshippers of the Lord of Light, including numerous nobles within the Black Walls, will invite Benerro to interpret what the return of dragons means for the future.
We can capture him while he's preaching."
....
The crimson Temple of the Lord of Light stood proudly in Volantis's New City.
Across the Rhoyne, to the east, stood the ancient Black Walls.
One red, one black.
The two great structures faced one another across the river like rival powers locked in silent competition.
Inside the red temple, Benerro was praying with his disciples around a great bonfire.
Orange-red flames danced wildly within a massive black brazier, as though dissatisfied with the limits of their container.
Benerro and his followers chanted incantations in unison, conducting some mysterious ritual.
The High Priest, dressed in flowing crimson robes, stared intently into the flames.
His robes billowed in the heat like they were dancing alongside the fire itself.
"O Lord of Light, my supreme master."
"Grant me revelation."
"Tell me whether Viserys is the savior you have chosen."
After Benerro spoke, the other worshippers repeated the prayer. As though by doing so, their voices might reach R'hllor himself.
As the chanting continued, Benerro noticed changes within the flames.
The Lord of Light had answered.
Excitement surged through him.
Truthfully, before the ritual had even begun, he already believed he knew the answer.
The savior was Viserys.
In fact, he had already prepared the sermons he intended to deliver praising him.
He had heard all about Viserys hatching dragons in Gohor and emerging alive from the funeral pyre.
First, there was the prophecy of being born amidst smoke and salt.
The smoke from the pyre and the tears of the Queen Mother fit the prophecy far better than the old interpretation involving "the son of a cook."
Moreover, rebirth carried even greater symbolic significance than birth itself.
Benerro had already crafted the perfect explanation.
Before the flames, he had merely been Viserys. After emerging from them, he had become the savior.
That interpretation possessed far greater grandeur.
After all, how could an ordinary mortal woman give birth to a savior?
The second point was even more important: He had awakened dragons from stone.
Was there any stronger proof than that?
Perhaps some wizard or traveling performer could fake being reborn in fire.
But none of them could create dragons.
Viserys had accomplished exactly that. Therefore, in Benerro's eyes, Viserys had to be the promised savior.
He had already decided that once the Lord of Light confirmed it, he would publicly announce the identity of the chosen one.
Benerro widened his eyes and stared into the shifting shapes within the flames.
Gradually, a silver-haired figure appeared.
"It must be a Targaryen."
His conviction deepened.
Then, in the very next moment, he froze.
When the silver-haired figure turned around, it was not a man.
It was a girl.
"W-What?!"
Benerro's eyes widened even further.
For a moment, he thought he must be mistaken.
"Your Holiness..."
"The savior... is a woman?" His deputy asked in disbelief.
As Benerro's closest confidant, he shared nearly all of the High Priest's views.
He too had assumed the savior would be Viserys. Yet the prophecy in the flames clearly showed a woman.
Among the Targaryens there were only three possibilities.
Rhaella. Rhaenys.
Or Daenerys.
Rhaella could be dismissed immediately. A woman nearing fifty could hardly be the promised savior.
That left Rhaenys.
But Rhaenys's hair was silver-gold, not pure silver.
Though Benerro had never met Daenerys personally, the clues seemed unmistakable.
The savior was Daenerys Targaryen.
The images within the fire gradually blurred and twisted. The flames in the brazier slowly died down.
The prophecy had ended.
Moqorro looked toward Benerro.
Whenever the High Priest received a vision, he usually emerged more certain than before.
This time, however, his face was filled with confusion.
Benerro simply could not understand it.
If Daenerys was the savior, then why had Viserys received such overwhelming signs and miracles?
Yet the visions of the flames did not lie.
This revelation had been extraordinarily clear.
It required no interpretation whatsoever.
The Lord of Light had practically stated outright that Daenerys was the chosen savior.
What trials still awaited House Targaryen that could possibly lead to such a conclusion?
In the end, Benerro could only arrive at one explanation.
The Targaryens were destined to endure terrible hardships yet to come.
Otherwise, there was no way Daenerys could end up becoming the savior instead of Viserys.
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