Dorne, Ghaston Grey
Neferion
Surrounded by an air barrier, without any armor, only wearing short to knee pants, he sliced through the depths like an arrow, and the deep ones followed him like a big school of fish, becoming greater with each passing second.
He was aware that in the sea, he had lost most of his mobility and physical traits, which, while still far superior to mortals or even his current opponents, might not be sufficient in this situation.
Fighting on land, he didn't have to worry about even half-tonne monsters moving at breakneck speed in the water and attacking from all sides, whereas his reaction was severely hindered by the water's resistance.
It took him several minutes to reach the seabed, hidden in absolute darkness, where an ordinary human would have been crushed by the pressure. But this also showed the incredible endurance of these underwater abominations, whose eyes glowed in all directions.
With a force, he struck the stone-like seabed and wasted no time in using a new shout that was essential to him in this fight.
"DAH OKAAZ SU" (Push, Sea, Air)
A dome of compressed air spread from him, pushing the water and the creatures within it away with incredible force. With sheer force of will and intent, he caused the barrier to solidify about 200 feet away from him, creating an air-filled but water-free coliseum.
The mental and spiritual strength required to hold it up while billions of gallons of water pressed against it was unimaginable, and he would have to rely solely on his melee skills in the coming battle, though he had initially planned to thin their ranks a bit.
Since the barrier blocked not only the water but the Deep Ones as well, he intended to only let them through it in places he chose.
He held his left hand out in front of him, and a second later a gleaming bow appeared in it, made of a white material unknown even to him. The bow of his father, or at least one of his aspects, Auri-El.
The sunlight shining from the bow chased away the darkness, illuminating the interior of the dome and blinding the creatures trying to get through it.
Knowing that he had to hurry because he couldn't hold the dome of air forever, he gripped the bowstring with his fingers, which glowed gold, and between it and the bow, a luminous arrow began to form, emanating an unusual heat.
Although in the current situation he couldn't use the strongest attack, which required shooting the arrow towards the sun, he could use the power of the bow to a much greater extent than any living creature. Not only was he now more of a deity than a mortal, but he was also the son of the one who had created this bow and wielded it in the war against Lorkhan.
In front of him, he opened a small passage in the barrier, through which the pressing water pushed the crowded abominations of the Drowned God, but at that moment an arrow of compressed light, drawing not from Aetherius but from the sun of this world, struck the horde of Deep Ones, now a tangle of bodies and limbs.
The depths of the sea experienced such a phenomenon for the first time because, at the point of impact, a miniature sun with a diameter of several dozen feet was created, consuming the beasts' bodies in a destructive fire, evaporating practically all the water that had penetrated through the breach.
Another arrow flew after the first, but in a different direction, where he opened another passage, blocking the previous one. There was another explosion.
He repeated the whole process twice more, then let the bow fall from his hand, and it dissolved into thin air, returning to his magic pouch. Using the bow's power outside the sun was a pain, and combined with maintaining the barrier, the cost was too great. So now he really had to limit himself to melee combat.
A long sword of exceptional craftsmanship appeared in his hand, silver and ebony in colour, emanating a powerful yet sinister aura. Umbra (Shadow), a cursed blade, absorbing the will and eventually the soul of the person who wielded it. Its hilt was intricately designed, adorned with runes that seemed to shimmer ominously in the dim light. As he tightened his grip, a chilling whisper echoed in his mind, beckoning him to embrace the darkness it promised.
Unfortunately, the sword was unlucky to fall into his hands because its will was much more powerful than that of the blade and its creator. The sword yearned for domination, its insatiable hunger threatening to consume his very essence. He could feel the weight of its malevolence pressing down on him, urging him to unleash chaos upon the world, but he, with ease, challenged the blade's insidious influence.
When the first of the underwater abominations reached him, the water pouring inside already reached his heels. With a lazy swing, he split the monster resembling a hybrid between a sawfish and a human.
There was probably nothing in this world that this sword could not cut. Deep One's body was no obstacle for it. This particular one or the next ones. The carnage had begun, and before the water reached his ankles, dozens of bodies littered the bottom, and severed inhuman limbs, tentacles, and heads floated in the shallow water.
In his left hand, one of the creatures struggled, held by its long head, which collapsed inwards under the force of his fingers. Black blood spattered his body and face, already completely covered in the blood of the monster's brethren.
Taking a heavy breath, he slowly closed his eyes. He felt his mind and body becoming heavy. The strain he now felt holding the full power of the sea could only be compared to a few moments in his life, such as his fight with Mirmulnir, which was his baptism as a Dovahkiin. Or the fight with Mirak and Hermaeus Mora.
Of course, he did not mention the fight with Alduin, because when their duel actually took place, he was already more than equal to the World Eater, having absorbed more than a hundred of Dov's souls and the soul of Miraak, whose strength was second only to Alduin's.
Opening his eyes, he saw another wave of Deep Ones while the water slowly began to reach his knees. Feeling the foul taste of their blood that had somehow entered his mouth, he spat it out at the creature closest to him, whose torso exploded as if hit by a ballista bolt.
The next three creatures, each heavier and larger than him, were already at him. He cut off the head of the first one faster than his brain could register, and without losing momentum, he cut off the legs of the next one with the same cut. The third one got a left hook that pulverised his shark-like muzzle. He finished off the second one by stepping on his chest.
Before the next servants of the sea god could reach him, he used probably his last thu'um today, creating an air barrier again, only a smaller one surrounding only his body. The larger one began to crack, and more and more water and creatures were getting inside.
After a moment, the air dome burst, and billions of tonnes of water fell on him and the hundreds of his opponents filling it. Even though they were resistant to high pressure, the Deep Ones were crushed in the blink of an eye; nothing could withstand such mass.
At the same time, he gritted his teeth and, tensing his muscles, jumped up with unimaginable strength and speed, crashed into the falling wall of water and broke through it with some effort. Then he moved towards the surface, hoping that the remaining monsters had not survived the colliding masses of water.
Having broken through to the surface, he swam towards what was left of the prison island. Now he needed to rest before he paid a visit to the Storm King.
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Stormlands, Storm's End
King Arrec Durrandon,
Dark clouds seemed to gather over his kingdom, and control was slipping from his grasp. After recent events, especially what had taken place on the Stepstones. When Jonathor Estermont sent him a raven with information that the islands were covered in a high layer of ice, from which grew an ice tree that easily grew over the mountain peaks that Westeros had, he did not want to believe it.
One was defeating the Ironborn, but shaping nature itself – that was something he had not been able to imagine before. However, the facts spoke for themselves.
He felt like a cornered hare on the hunt, hounds of all kinds surrounding him, only waiting to see who would turn out to be the hunter, who would end the hunt. No, no. He knew well who would finish him off. If it were not for the Dornishmen, he would have tried to come to an agreement with this Dovahkiin. But who knew what those snakes had told him?
He grabbed his wine glass and went out onto the balcony, taking one last look at his sleeping wife, and his thoughts thus wandered to his two sons, with whom his line would probably end.
He looked angrily at the surprisingly calm sky over Storm's End today, feeling a growing resolve. How low he had fallen; his ancestors wouldn't even look at him, ashamed of his weakness. If his lineage ended with him, and his kingdom was to fall, he wasn't going to just give up.
For the sake of his sons and wife, but also his own pride. Was it so easy for him to forget that his lineage came from the Storm god himself? He wasn't going to leave this world quietly. But with an axe in his hand and a smile on his lips.
"A hard morning, huh? But is it a good idea to start with wine?" came a low and strong, but at the same time incredibly resonant voice. Frightened, he looked around, and then he saw it.
An golden-skinned man sat on the stone railing of the balcony to his right, watching him with undisguised curiosity. He didn't even have to look at his eyes or ears to know who he was; the aura that emanated from him and his voice made it clear.
He felt his heart stop in his chest as the implication of this meeting sank in. This Dovahkiin didn't need to fight an army or conquer his stronghold. He didn't even need to destroy it with some cataclysm. He simply appeared here in his chambers, almost 250 feet above the sea.
"I don't know what you're imagining in your head, but I can guess." The other said again, and Arrec realised he was having trouble breathing. The mere presence of this uninvited guest was overwhelming. His earlier thoughts were now laughable. How was he even supposed to fight someone who could simply enter the heart of his fortress and kill him?
"What do you want from me?" he asked, his voice quiet and weak. "My Lord," he added almost immediately, hating himself for this behaviour at the same time.
The man jumped down onto the balcony and slowly walked up to him. And it fully dawned on him how tall he really was. He himself was not a short man; what's more, he was one of the tallest he knew, but the others towered over him by a head.
The other's inhuman eyes were also staring at him with such force and relaxation that he felt like a child or some small animal. It was the look he gave a curiously behaving dog or cat. And it was at that very moment that it dawned on him how alien the creature he was talking to was and how much it surpassed him.
"I wanted to see what you were made of and maybe talk. I am Neferion." Dovakhiin finally said, to his surprise.
"Do you want to talk? About what?" he asked, feeling for the first time a surge of hope. "I would also rather avoid bloodshed."
He suddenly felt a jolt of pain in his chest. He slowly looked down, noticing the armoured hand that was currently pulling out the still beating heart. He looked at the man, stunned. The last thing he heard before he died was the other's mocking words.
"Too bad you didn't have the same approach towards the people of the Riverlands, whose desire for freedom you drowned in blood. How does it feel to feel powerless? An unpleasant feeling, huh?"