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25% Return Of The Phoenix (GOT + LOTR) / Chapter 1: Hopeless Slave
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Return Of The Phoenix (GOT + LOTR)

Autor: Cruel_Death

© WebNovel

Capítulo 1: Hopeless Slave

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Author's Confession:-

This is a work of fanfiction based on The Lord of the Rings and Game of Thrones. Other than my original characters, I do not claim ownership of any characters, settings, or concepts from these franchises; all rights belong to their respective creators. This work is intended solely for entertainment purposes.

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Year 263 AC

In the distant waters near the continent of Sothoryos.

Sothoryos was a continent shrouded in mystery, where hopes of discovering life often seemed futile.

The threats lurking beneath its surface remained largely unknown to both Westerosi and Essosi due to the vast and treacherous distance separating them.

Still, a few brave souls ventured forth in search of wonder and new discoveries.

Among these explorers were Aegon IV, Jaenara Belaerys, and the Rhoynish Queen Nymeria, along with numerous Valyrian adventurers.

Jaenara Belaerys, in particular, brought her dragon, Terrax, on her expedition.

However, her journey was fraught with peril.

Records indicated that Terrax sustained many injuries, and Jaenara herself was reportedly terrified.

The exact reasons for her fear were never fully disclosed, as no one dared to interrogate a dragonlord about their experiences.

Thus, most expeditions to Sothoryos ended in disaster, with the mainland being especially dangerous.

The smaller islands around the continent were risky but manageable, yet reaching the heart of Sothoryos remained an overwhelming challenge, often ending in catastrophe.

But greed was a ravenous beast, and in a forsaken land like Sothoryos, where no ruler dared to stake a claim, the most twisted of pirates were lured by its call.

They didn't just gamble with fate; they sought to shatter it, hunting treasures that could warp their lives into something even more monstrous.

These pirates cared nothing for the plague-ridden land of Sothoryos. It was the stories that drove them, the whispered tales of mysterious birds, unique creatures, and, most enticing of all, divine beings.

They were obsessed with the idea of capturing and selling these wonders for a fortune, even if it meant marching headlong into their own doom.

At this moment, the sky was red, signaling the arrival of evening, while the sea remained oddly calm despite its violent reputation.

The Sea Vulture, a black ship, sailed forward, slicing through the waves like a knife through flesh.

This was no ordinary journey.

The crew of pirates aboard had ventured far from the familiar lands of Westeros, now deep in the treacherous waters near Sothoryos.

They called themselves the Vultures of Dawn, a group of a thousand menacing pirates, all bloodthirsty, greedy, and equally strong.

Though the name might have sounded strange, their strength was undeniable, strong enough to have brought them this far into the unknown.

Earlier, in 130 AC, a Valyrian explorer had discovered a small bird near Sothoryos that could spit fire like a dragon.

The discovery was so remarkable that the reigning Targaryen ruler had wanted to mount an expedition, but political issues delayed it, and eventually, the Targaryens weakened as all their dragons were lost.

Nonetheless, what motivated the pirates was the bird's high value, so high that even a single plume fetched a fortune.

They had acquired an old map that had passed through many hands.

This map became their guide through the perilous waters towards the Burning Island, a place most considered a myth.

All in all, The pirates were ruthless and vile, their deeds even more so.

Below deck, where the air reeked of rot and the darkness pressed in like a vise, a nightmare was taking shape...

Jarek, a dock slave, lay crumpled on the filthy floor of the captain's quarters, his body a canvas of pain as the pirates took turns beating him.

He had once been handsome, with pale skin and black hair, but now he was just a shadow of that man, his hair matted and unwashed for years.

"You useless piece of shit!" one of the pirates snarled, his boot slamming into Jarek's ribs with a sickening thud.

"Didn't I tell you to clean the captain's quarters, you worthless dog?"

Boom!

Jarek was slammed against the wall, his head snapping back as blood sprayed from his mouth.

Even then, he dared not look up; years of torment had left him broken, too afraid to meet the pirate's gaze.

"I did! I swear I did!" he gasped, his voice trembling.

But he knew better than to stay silent. If he didn't beg, they might toss him overboard.

These pirates had twisted hearts, taking sick pleasure in throwing those who no longer amused them into the deep sea.

Jarek had seen the monsters lurking in those waters, wide jaws, sharp teeth, and he didn't want to end up as their food.

Even though life on this cursed ship was hell, Jarek clung to a tiny, desperate hope.

One day, maybe, he would be free and live the life of a dignified young man.

"Liar!"

The pirate spat in his face, eyes burning with hatred as he delivered another brutal kick.

"You're nothing but a fucking lazy, worthless slave! You're lucky we don't gut you right here and now. Just like your whore of a mother."

Indeed...Jarek's mother had been a prostitute, working for a wealthy man in Braavos.

When the pirates raided, they took her, even though she was already pregnant.

Then...

She was raped relentlessly by the crew, and eventually, Jarek was born on this very ship.

No one knew or cared who his father was, and when she finally died, her death made Jarek's life even more miserable.

The pirates saw him as less than dirt, a bastard born on the ship, in a world where bastards were treated like filth.

In their eyes, he deserved every bit of the pain they inflicted.

Another pirate, grinning at the sight of Jarek's suffering, joined in, kicking him hard in the stomach.

"You hear that, boy? You're trash, just like her. Maybe we should cut your tongue out so you learn to keep your mouth shut."

Jarek's cries grew desperate.

"Please, I cleaned everything! I swear, I did!"

He had to pretend to be terrified.

It wasn't that he didn't feel the pain.

He felt every blow...

But a slave's duty was to entertain his masters.

If he stayed quiet, they'd find him boring, and a boring slave was a dead slave.

"Shut the fuck up, slave! Bogo, show this little bastard what happens when he talks back!"

The blows came faster, harder, until Jarek's world faded to black.


REFLEXIONES DE LOS CREADORES
Cruel_Death Cruel_Death

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