The seven warlocks spread around the room, circling behind the table as they positioned themselves at equal distances.
"Lord Xaro," one of the council members asked in a trembling voice. "What is the meaning of this? What is happening here?"
"Did you not truly understand, or are you just acting ignorant?" Xaro asked with a grin. "Did I not just speak about becoming the king of all Qarth? I think I made myself quite clear."
"But…" another council member tried to speak, though his voice faltered. He was not even sure what to ask. None of them could make sense of the situation. Xaro's declaration, the presence of the warlocks, everything felt impossible to comprehend. Everyone in the room was on edge and they had no words which could express their emotions. Expression of pure fright, nervousness and anxiety had taken over their faces.
"I know I have left all of you confused," Xaro said, his grin widening. "But I think I will give you an explanation. An explanation before you are all killed."
Jon, who had been preparing to make his move, suddenly halted. He wanted as many answers as he could get and Xaro seemed about to offer them.
"Aeloros," Xaro sighed. "As I said, after your suggestion, the fire inside my heart reignited and with it came a massive fortune knocking on my door."
"These gentlemen," Xaro gestured toward the warlocks, "came to me and promised an opportunity so great that I could not even have dreamt of it. A promise to make me the king of Qarth."
"At first, I was very suspicious of their motives and their capabilities," he continued. "I doubted they could truly accomplish what they were promising. But then, they gave me a little demonstration, and I was awed by their presence. That little demo of their power made me fascinated by them. All the doubts that had been rising in my head vanished in an instant."
"Then again," Xaro laughed, "I must also thank my so called inferior status."
"Like all of you might be wondering, I too wondered, why was it me, Xaro Xhoan Daxos, that they approached? Why not any one of you? Why not the Silk King or the Spice King? Why me? I am surely not the most powerful of the council members, and the reply I received left me speechless."
"Do you know why?" Xaro questioned. "Because I am of inferior status. Unlike all of you who carry the blood of the previous kings of Qarth in your veins, I am not of noble birth."
"The only requirement that the chief of the House of the Undying placed before me to make me king was that all of you who have the blood of the previous kings in your veins must die. And I was all too happy to agree to it. If I were to become king, then you all would surely be dead."
"Can you imagine?" he chuckled. "I was chosen because I was not of noble birth. Although it hurt my pride, I was thankful that I had gotten this opportunity."
"You…" one of the council members sprang to his feet, pointing a trembling finger at the warlocks. "Why are you doing this? What do you need? Wealth? Gold? We have more of it than this Xaro Xhoan Daxos. Name any price, and let us go."
All the council members seemed ready to agree with him, but one of the warlocks merely chuckled. It was Pyat Pree.
"Do you think we lack gold and wealth?" he mocked. "We have that in plenty. And anyways, after killing all of you, would not all your wealth obviously belong to us?"
"Then why?" the council members almost cried as the question left their lips. "What do you even want?"
"Why?" Pyat Pree drawled. "It seems your forefathers did not tell you the stories. They indulged themselves so much in wealth and luxury that they forgot to teach you your history."
"But no worries," he smiled. "I will do it for them."
"Before the doom of Valyria," Pyat Pree began, "the House of the Undying was an extremely powerful institution. We wielded immense influence not only in Qarth but in faraway places as well. At that time, Qarth was ruled by an early form of the council you know as of today."
"The city was ruled by a small group of people, descendants of the previous kings of Qarth, but it was all a farce. While that group acted as the rulers of the city, it was we, the House of the Undying, who were the true power holders behind the shadows. The previous kings of Qarth had been our dogs and so were their descendants. When they had ruled as a singular monarch, they had been our dog and when they began to rule as a group, they were still our dogs. Everything depended on our whims. We could have changed rulers easier than changing clothes."
Jon narrowed his eyes as he listened, exchanging a glance with Melisandre. She too was listening intently, her expression sharp with interest.
"And then the Doom happened," Pyat Pree declared. "We did not know what caused it, but it was a catastrophic event. All the warlocks of the House of the Undying were stripped of their powers. Our magic was not lost completely, but what remained was nothing more than leftover crumbs."
"Before the Doom, a dozen of us were enough to dominate an army. But after the Doom, we were reduced to performing paltry tricks. Tricks you could showcase on the streets just to earn a few coins."
"And when the master loses it stick," Pyat Pree snickered. "Its dog is the first one to bite it."
"The group whose only work had been to follow our orders began opposing and suppressing us," he sighed. "With our powers reduced, there was little we could have done."
"To save ourselves from being completely eliminated, we had no choice but to accept their suzerainty. We lost all our former glory and power. We were reduced to bed time stories and things of legend."
"Even after the doom," he continued. "Our powers continued to be reduced. And in a century, our powers were completely gone."
Jon inwardly wondered if this coincided with the extinction of dragons.
"It seemed to us that all our hopes had been lost," Pyat Pree said. "But…"
He did not finish his sentence as he vanished from his spot and appeared at some distance away from him. Teleportation.
"Our powers have finally returned," he added with a grin. Every occupant in the room had an expression of horror on their face. Only Jon and Melinsandre looked a bit calm while Xaro was grinning happily.
"And when we had been reduced to nothingness," Pyat declared, his voice shrill, "We had taken a vow that if a day comes when we regain our powers, we will wipe out the bloodline of every king of Qarth."
"And we are here to complete our vow," he boomed, his voice echoing in the hall.
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