The sea winds howled endlessly against the black towers of Gogossos, carrying with them the distant sounds of chains, labor, and suffering from the slave pits below. Once a Ghiscari city, the Valyrian dragonlords had turned it into something far darker, a penal colony where criminals, rebels, and the unfortunate vanished into the swamps and mines of the Isle of Tears.

Inside the high solar overlooking the cliffs, Calla Perzys sat alone at a long obsidian table, reading through a stack of reports brought from the slave pens and overseers. Tall candles burned with blue flame beside her, casting long shadows across the walls carved with ancient Valyrian glyphs.

Her cupbearer poured dark Valyrian wine into a crystal goblet beside her hand. Calla did not look up as she read, not even when the door opened did she acknowledge them.