To the east of the continent of Essos stretches the vast, fertile, and flat Dothraki Sea of Grass, a green ocean that seems to have no end, where the wind ripples the grass as if it were living waves.
Vaes Dothrak, the sacred city, rises beyond the Dothraki Sea, at the foot of the Mother of Mountains and beside the silent Womb of the World, whose waters reflect the sky like an ancient mirror.
At the entrance to the city stood the legendary "Horse Gate."
Where once two majestic bronze sculptures honoring the great khals of the past had stood, there now rose several imposing statues of the god Thor Horse Head, newly cast and gleaming with a solemn radiance. They had been erected by direct order of Khal Kerse, and their presence imposed a new faith upon the ancient tradition.
Led by Khal Kerse, the khalasar passed beneath the Horse Gate and advanced along the sacred path known as the Road of the Gods.
Daenerys rode behind him on her silver horse, escorted by Ser Jorah Mormont and, at some distance, by Viserys, who once again stayed close, though under watch.
Since the incident on the grass-covered plains, Kerse had not allowed Viserys to approach Daenerys, fearing another reckless outburst.
Only after constant pleading and employing all the intimate arts her handmaid Doreah had taught her did Daenerys manage to have Kerse forgive her brother and allow him to join the head of the procession.
"Is this the god Thor Horse Head?" Daenerys asked, stroking her swollen belly as she observed the new bronze statues.
Kerse nodded from his mount.
At the side of the road, Viserys spoke in a tone heavy with restrained anger.
"How much longer must we remain in these ruins before you give me an army?"
Kerse replied with forced calm.
"I've already told you. First we must consult the dosh khaleen."
Viserys clenched his teeth.
"And what does your god have to do with me? I'm tired of eating horse meat every day and living surrounded by this stench."
Noticing that Kerse's patience was beginning to wear thin, Ser Jorah Mormont intervened.
"Your Grace, the goods of the Western Market should satisfy you."
"They had better," Viserys replied coldly, fixing Jorah with a look full of contempt.
Daenerys turned her head toward Kerse, with a pleading expression.
"My sun and stars, when will they give my brother a crown?"
For an instant, Kerse remembered the scene of the molten crown falling upon Viserys's head in another time, in another fate.
"Soon," he finally replied. "Very soon, my dear."
Daenerys smiled, satisfied.
Khal Kerse advanced through the city accompanied by his bloodriders and an imposing army.
Daenerys followed closely, watching with fascination the strange wonders that surrounded her.
Vaes Dothrak was almost as large as ten Pentos put together, without walls or defined borders. The buildings took on diverse forms, filled with foreign styles.
Some structures were simple wooden halls with roofs open to the sky; others were carved directly into stone and covered with intricate, beautiful, and primitive engravings, reflections of conquered cultures.
"Why are all the buildings so different?" Daenerys asked.
"They were built by captured slaves," Kerse explained. "Each one built according to their customs and beliefs."
In a wide clearing, a crowd had gathered, forming a circle. At the center stood a woman of extraordinary beauty, with black hair streaked with white.
It was Rhaenys Targaryen.
Rhaenys spoke with a firm voice while caressing her swollen belly, as if drawing strength from the life she carried within.
"The priestesses foretold that this day would come," she proclaimed.
"When the Red Star bleeds
and darkness gathers…
the Ice Demon King will escape from hell
and return to this world to sow chaos and destruction.
The demon will call other demons
and raise the dead who lie in hell
to fight at his side."
An uneasy murmur passed through the crowd.
"But you must not fear," Rhaenys continued.
"When the darkness is absolute
and all seems lost,
a true warrior will appear,
a Dothraki warrior,
the chosen of the god Thor Horse Head.
He will awaken the extinct dragons,
lead the peoples to war
and crush all his enemies
until they are reduced to dust."
The wind swept along the Road of the Gods, and for an instant, even the bloodriders felt a chill.