Chapter 2: Dothraki
I'm currently 2 years old, and in these measly two years, I've seen more deaths than an army veteran back from the battlefield. Duels to the death were a common occurrence in the khalasar,
After all, everyone wanted to prove he is stronger than their neighbours, it is a matter of bravery and a show of strength. The first time my mother Layaffi took me to watch one of those duels, which are honestly better-called death matches, as although they are meant to be simple friendly duels, they most likely than not end in one of the participants being a cold corpse.
Back to topic, when I first saw one of those duels, I was impressed. They fought bravely and like savages, without armour or fear of injury. However by the end of the fight when the loser's head was cut off from his shoulders...I passed out.
It was too much mental stress for a two-year-old mind. I recovered a few days later, though my mother took this as a sign of weakness, and insisted that I got used to death. So from then on, at every chance she would get, we would go to see duels, executions, and wars...from the side of course.
Speaking of wars, there was one every couple of months, either we're raiding a settlement or fighting other khalasars. Forgot to mention, I met my father, built like a bodybuilder, he has tanned bronze skin and long black braided hair so long it reached the middle of his back.
In Dothraki culture, a warrior never cuts his hair until he is defeated in battle, and looking at my father's, it's safe to say he's one tough dude.
He was the tough love kind, he never kissed or hugged me, but patted my back a lot and looked at me fondly. Actually, he was kind of overprotective. When my mother would take me to watch wars, he would place half of his bloodriders to guard us. Hard from the outside, soft-...softer on the inside.
When he first returned, I discovered that our khalasar is actually much larger than I first speculated, this is because all men and women go to war except the injured and sick. Now with everyone here, I was able to witness a sea of tents extending far away.
My guess is that it's about 15 to 18 thousand warriors, making this but a medium-sized khalasar. Khal Drogo in the show had 40 thousand. Seems I'll have to work hard in the future.
This makes my this khalasar ranked third from my knowledge. The khalasar of Khal Viqallo to the northwest of Essos has 50,000 screamers. While The khalasar of Khal Horro is currently about 20,000 men strong and wanders in the areas around Myr.
The khalasar right under us, occupying the fourth place, is the khalasar of Khal Azho, with 12,000 Dothraki.
Bloodriders fulfil the roles of guards, brothers, shadows, and friends to the khal in ways that run deeper than the oath of the Kingsguard to the king on the Iron Throne. The khal and his bloodriders commonly refer to each other as "blood of my blood".
One weird thing, however, is that after each war, father comes back home with three cups worth of blood....and makes each of us drink a cup.
Overlooking the fact that a 2-year-old (me) was forced to drink blood, which I don't think is very healthy, why was the most interesting yet messed up answer.
Apparently, each khal has his very own unique way of celebrating a strong enemy. Like adding the cut-off hair braid of the defeated enemy to your own hair, marking tattoos on your body for every khal you kill.
My father's unique celebration is to bring himself and his family a cup of blood from the strongest warrior he's fought after a war, and making them drink it. It symbolises taking the enemy's strength for yourself and your family.
I don't really mind though, I found the taste rather sweet, which was weird enough for me as I knew blood didn't taste like that. To make matters even more bizarre, when asked, my mother said it tasted awful and told me to just endure it. This shall require further research.
And yes, I can already talk at two years old, making my mother break into tears that her son is a genius and my father to remark that she had a successful stallion heart ceremony before she gave birth to me.
During the ceremony, the khaleesi will attempt to consume the heart of a stallion under the supervision of the dosh khaleen. Due to the prohibition on bearing steel in Vaes Dothrak, the mother must tear apart the stallion's heart with her bare teeth and fingernails.
If she eats the entire heart, she will bear a son who is strong and swift and fearless; if she chokes on the blood or retches up the flesh, the omens are less favourable — the child might be stillborn, weak, deformed or female.
I remember Daenerys doing the same thing in the show, however her baby came out stillborn and deformed due to the blood magic, which is forbidden by Dothraki culture, that was used by Mirri Maz Duur at the request of Daenerys herself in an attempt to heal khal Drogo.
The taste of blood wasn't the only strange thing happening, after every cup of blood I consumed, I can feel my strength increase. My conjecture is that I somehow absorb a portion of strength from whoever that blood belonged to, who is supposedly the strongest opponent father faced...so the amount of strength I absorb is overwhelming.
And as a side effect, whenever I drink a cup of blood, I fall into a deep sleep for a couple of days, I'm guessing my body is giving itself time to adapt. I also noticed that I get tired more easily while under the sun, while it's night-time however, I feel like a fish in the sea.
...I'm not stupid, I'm realising what this is all pointing at, a vampire...however I'm not dead, my body is still warm to the touch, and I don't have red eyes or fangs. So the only other source for these anomalies is the red lightning that struck me before I was reborn.
Since reaching that conclusion, I began to meditate every night before sleeping, hoping to get something, anything from it.
But only time would tell if my efforts bore fruit.
2 years later...
Dothraki, literally means "riders". Dothraki boys learn to shoot bows from horseback when they are only four years old. The Dothraki will abandon a sick or injured leader who can no longer ride a horse.
I am experiencing this first hand, as evident by my current position on top of a horse....ACK!! I fell miserably again, like the countless times before this, but I was shown no mercy.
I was immediately picked up and placed on the horse again, as harsh as this training method sounds, it is effective. As in a few weeks, I was already able to ride smoothly on top of the horse, make it jump, run and turn and mount it on my own.
I was also being taught how to use a longbows that are huge, and recurved with impressive range and striking power that can be fired from horseback and an arakh (a curved sword), as well as daggers and whips....why do I have to learn how to use whips again?
My father, as the Khal, brought me the best (harshest) trainers to teach me (beat into me) how to use those weapons skillfully. I was particularly good with the whip...I don't like where this is going.
I am currently training with an arakh from one muscular old man, with a bald head and a long grey beard and eyes.
*Slash*
I dodge.
*Thrust*
I dodge.
*Low slide kick*
I don't dodg-ACK PFFFFF.
"*COUGH* *Cough*, can you go a little easy on me old man! I'm only four you old fart!" I shouted, or squeaked with how high pitch my voice is right now.
"You only dodge bit rarely ever attack, dodging is good, but it will never win you a fight! In a fight, you need to be constantly on the move, if there's no space you go around your enemy in circles. After you parry or dodge a blow, you counter with a decisive blow. You need to search for an opening..."
Oh, my great stallion! Won't this old man shut up, now that he's in his lecture mode, I can just sleep while keeping my eyes open and nodding every 5 seconds. *Hhhaahh* I'm tired~zzZZ.
"Isn't that right Virsal?"
*Nods*
"You move counterclockwise towards the enemy's blind spot and.."
*Nods*
"Now let's end this for today, meet me here tomorrow at first light" he then turns around and leaves.
*Nods*
*Nods*
*Nods*
......
30 minutes later..
*Nods* *Blinks* *looks around*
"Huh?.."
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