[2] I’ve Already Been Found?!

Chapter 2: I’ve Already Been Found?!

—

Seven Kingdoms, one continent. Westeros was an enjoyable place on the screen but a harsh place to live in. Especially for a modern man who’d just regained his memories.

In hindsight, Essos was better. Sure there was slavery, but slavery’s on your side if you had the money. I had a pouch of gold coins, and using that I could buy slaves and spend my days in luxury until the end. Unfortunately, my pride as a Targaryen remained raging despite regaining my memories. I had lived as the fool that was Viserys Targaryen for 22 years, and the blood in my veins demanded I return to Westeros and reclaim “my” throne.

But pride was one thing, logic another. I didn’t have the ambition of ruling the seven kingdoms. I didn’t have the ambition for anything right now, nor did I know what I wanted. Nonstop horse riding for the last two weeks had left me confused and hungry, and the only thing I knew was that I didn’t want to die. And returning to Westeros and fighting for the throne was certain death.

In that case, wasn’t it better to just stay here?

A land where the old Gods have long since lost their influence, and the new ones reigned supreme. That was Essos, a continent almost double the size of Westeros.

“...Fuck,” I cursed, swallowing my saliva. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I yanked out the water skin strapped to my side and poured it down my throat. The half a mouthful of remaining water fell into my throat, and I gulped. I sucked on it till the last drop and coughed when nothing more fell.

It’s not as if villages didn’t exist here where I could have refilled the water. But the problem was that stopping anywhere meant the chance of being recaptured by the Dothraki would grow higher. It was too dangerous to take the chance.

I hoped Daenerys hadn’t sold me out, but I didn’t trust her not to.

I had just ridden my horse in a random direction. Thankfully, it wasn’t the Red Waste that I ended up in; otherwise, I’d have died from dehydration by now. No, I think I was making my way toward the sea.

“Come on, get moving,” I sighed and patted my horse. That thing had been carrying me for far too long. The short breaks during the night were mostly to let it rest, as much as it was to catch myself some sleep.

I couldn’t stay in Essos.

There was no way I could. Game of Thrones was one of those worlds where a butterfly effect could cause immense change in the entire world. A man might survive if the wind blew the wrong way, and that man might charge an army to King’s Landing a week later, writing the pages of history anew. It was that type of world. And now that something objectively major has changed—where the Targaryen trademark didn’t remain under Daenerys’ sole existence—the world might go through a whole different plotline just because of this.

For example, Khal Drogo might not die. In that case, the Dothraki would certainly continue searching for me forever. And the day they find me, and they definitely will someday, for a man could only hide for so long, they’d tie me behind a horse and ride into the horizon. I wasn’t ready to have my balls mutilated by cobblestone roads.

If I remained in Essos, death was imminent.

On the other hand, I could survive in Westeros as long as I didn’t gun for the throne. I was five years old when I left Westeros; nobody would recognize me. I’d even cut my hair and grow a beard for additional certainty.

[Ding! END + 1 for staying strong on an empty stomach.]

Ah, and there’s this thing too. In the worst-case scenario, I had this to rely on. I’d played my fair share of games back in my last life, and if this System thing wasn’t my mind playing tricks on me, it meant I had a genuine shot at building myself into superman.

===

Viserys Targaryen

22 Years Old

Level 2

-

2 STR

4 END

2 DEX

7 INT

7 LUC

===

It was a game-like system window. The Gamer System. Although it lacked much of the original’s features, which was probably the reason why it called itself the Dragon System, I could see myself rising high with its help. I had gained one level during this horse ride, and all of my stats increased by 1 through that.

I definitely couldn’t survive a second against a hundred thousand Dothraki though.

Yep, I had to leave Essos. The decision was made. The original Viserys could never have taken this decision without an army, or else his balls would have jumped to his shoulders, but I was different. I knew the plot, and I had a [System]. I also had a new [Quest].

[Quest: Waking the Dragon.]

It was about the dragon egg I stole. There were much more details in the quest, some advice on how to hatch it, but I couldn’t focus on that yet, so no point in wasting time thinking about it.

I had yet to decide on a true goal, but for a start, I had to grab a ship to cross the seas.

Wait…

“Hah, is that another mirage?” I blinked at the sight in the distance. After leaving the Dothraki Grass Sea, I stumbled upon a land mostly barren with stones and hills. For the first time since then, I saw large signs of human civilization in the distance.

There were high walls, and there was a sea. Was I seeing things again, or did I actually stumble upon a port city? I could see the light at the end of the tunnel!

Then I fell.

My horse wavered underneath me, falling on its knees, as I was sent tumbling forward, rolling on the soil. I coughed, rising up, “Argh! Shit, stupid little-”

I cursed the poor horse and sighed. I went silent and slowly approached it, hand reaching out to pat it. “Neigh…” It looked worn out. Its majestic white fur was darkened from the week’s journey. It had brought me here so far, so I couldn’t bring myself to be harsh at it.

I looked into its eyes and sighed. “Fine, we’ll rest for a bit. Don’t die on me.”

It was risky, but I couldn’t really walk from here even if I could see the city. The distance was too much, and it’d take hours. I should just rest for those hours instead.

****

The rhythmic drum of hooves was the only sound breaking the stillness of the barren plains. The sun hung low, casting a dull orange hue across the horizon, while the distant outline of Volantis City slowly came into view.

My eyes glinted in awe at the sight. I was approaching a real medieval city. The city rose like a sleeping beast, its ancient branches sprawling, its walls towering above the flat landscape. A slight breeze stirred the dry grass, carrying with it the scent of saltwater from the nearby river, mixing with the dust that clung to everything.

I could make out the silhouette of the Long Bridge, arching high above the Rhoyne like a spine, connecting the two halves of the city. It seemed peaceful from a distance, but I knew better. In Volantis, peace was a lie. Volantis was a city inhabited by mostly slaves.

Volantis. One of the oldest cities in Essos, a place where the chains of the past never stopped rattling. Stupid old people loyal to old traditions ruled this land.

As for how I knew for sure that it was Volantis City? The mini-map floating in the corner of my vision showed the name. Volantis City.

Even though I, as Viserys Targaryen, hadn’t seen the place before, I remembered seeing it in the show. The system wasn't just handing me game stats; it was giving me other useful tools too, like this map. The faint glow of the name made me recognize it.

The closer I got, the more fresh the empty air felt. I had finally left the Dothraki Sea, the wastelands. But while the smell was fresh, the sight wasn’t light. Slaves, more than I could count, milled about even outside the city walls. They stood with their heads lowered and collars wrapped tight around their necks.

Human property. A common sight in Essos… Huh, I don’t feel disgusted. I thought I would, given my modern side. But I was surprisingly fine with it. In this world, I was a high-born; what did it matter if slaves died around me?

The guards spotted me as I approached the gates, their eyes narrowing, hands resting lazily on the hilts of their weapons. They weren’t tense, just bored, for they must have seen a hundred travelers today already. “Calm,” I said to my horse and pulled the reins, and my Dany White snorted in response, its exhaustion mirroring mine. After riding for what felt like an eternity, we were both about ready to collapse.

“You there,” one of the guards grunted, stepping forward. His armor was dented and worn, but his eyes were sharp. “State your business.”

I could smell alcohol from his breath even from here. How unprofessional. I swung my leg over and dismounted, my boots kicking up the dust that coated the ground. My hair, now short, barely brushed my collar. I had cut it earlier while resting with the horse—a small change, but one that might keep the wrong people from recognizing me.

Not that anyone here would care too much about a stray Targaryen, last seen 17 years ago by the public.

“Just passing through,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow. “How much for entry?”

The second guard chuckled. “Gold coin,” he said, extending his hand expectantly. His fingers wiggled in the air as if trying to pluck it straight from my pocket.

Of course, it’s gold. I fished out a coin from the pouch at my side, tossing it to the guard. He looked it around and bit into it with a grin before waving me through. “Aye, rich man. Welcome to Volantis.”

I ignored them and led my horse inside, walking beside it as we entered the city proper. The streets were busy, thrumming with the noise of traders, merchants and the dull hum of slaves moving about, doing their masters' bidding. Collars of iron and bronze around their necks marked their status. Some had tattoos branded on their faces—symbols indicating their role in this twisted system.

I forgot what the different tattoos mean. I wondered, barely noticing a slave approaching me until he spoke. “Ser, would you like me to take care of your horse?” he asked, his voice low, eyes glued to the ground.

I nodded. “Ah yes, see to it.” I gave the permission. There was no need to worry about the horse being stolen. Slaves didn’t have the luxury of making those kinds of mistakes.

With my horse handed over, I wandered deeper into the city. The air smelled of sweat, sea salt, and roasting meat. Shouts from market stalls filled the streets, mixed with the clanging of metal from nearby smithies.

Yet, what stood out the most was the sight of so many slaves, their branded faces and beaten-down expressions so common they were part of the scenery.

As I walked, a man sidled up beside me, rubbing his hands together like he’d just been handed something precious. His eyes gleamed, wearing a vulgar grin. “Looking for something, friend? Maybe a few girls to keep you company? We got the best bed slaves in all of Volantis. Harpies with thighs so soft you’ll forget where you are. Or, if you’re more the working type, we got boys who’ll carry your loads or build you whatever you need. We mark ’em good here.” He laughed, slapping the ass of a thick girl standing beside him. She gasped, shooting me a fearful look.

I glanced at him, and then at the girl. This is bad, I don’t feel disgusted at all. As Viserys, I was 22 years too old to be disgusted by slave whores.

I almost pondered the offer seriously for a minute.

He kept talking, painting vivid, vile pictures of what he could offer. “Seems you’re not from here. You see the tattoos? Each one means somethin’. Fish for the docks, hammer for the ones who work steel, fly tattoo indicates dung shovers, and tears for whores. You name it, I can get it.” He added, “Got fresh ones. Girls, young, untouched if you know what I mean…”

In the end, I shook my head. “Not interested,” I muttered. I didn’t feel as disgusted by slavery, but that didn’t mean I’d give in to Viserys’ lust. The man tried to persuade me further, but I excused myself and left him there, continuing toward the heart of the city.

Whores could go fuck themselves. I needed food. Rest. Anything that’d stop this trembling of my starving, sleep-deprived body.

After a while, I found a small inn tucked into a corner of the marketplace. It wasn’t grand, but it would do. I didn’t need attention. I stepped inside, the dull hum of conversation filling the air as I found a table near the back.

Before long, a boy, no older than twelve, scurried over. His clothes were threadbare, and he looked half-starved himself, but his eyes were sharp.

“Can I get you something, Ser?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“I’m no Ser. Bread, meat, and water,” I said, hunger gnawing at my stomach. “Anything fresh will do.”

He nodded and disappeared into the back. When the food arrived, I tore into it like a man starved for months, which wasn’t far from the truth. The bread was stale, the meat chewy, but I didn’t care. The food was mediocre at best, but I ate it all the same. It was the first decent meal I’d had in days. I ate until my stomach hurt.

When I finally leaned back, sated, I reached into my pouch for another coin. Fuck, I wanna give him all the gold. That was delicious. Mediocre food tasted divine on an empty stomach.

I got up from the table and walked over to the counter. I should ask about a ship, too. I stopped before the scruffy man at the counter, “How much?” I asked.

“Hm?” The man looked at me and shrugged to wave me off. “Nay need, the customer over there already paid for your meal.”

“What?” My spine stiffened, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I turned slowly, eyes scanning the room until they landed on a figure in the corner, draped in red. A hood concealed their face, but there was no mistaking the fact that they were watching me. They raised a hand and waved in a slow, deliberate motion.

I swallowed hard. Have I been found out already? I had cut my hair and hidden myself as best I could. Yet somehow, someone had noticed. And they were sitting across the room, calmly watching me.

My fingers itched toward the dagger at my side, but I didn’t make a move. We locked into a silent stare-off. The hooded figure stayed silent, and the air around us grew heavier.

Who the hell was that?

She lowered her robe slightly and smiled at me. Ah, yes. I blinked, lowering my dagger. A fucking Red Priestess, no wonder. They could recognize me even in hell.

**

**

**

Author Note: Rate the story, guys! It'll help us with the algorithm