Westward, the Hathay tread along the pier street, a half hour's journey until a grand river unfurled itself, stretching beyond five kilometers in breadth.

A coursing torrent charged ceaselessly into the bay—Rhoyne, the maternal river of the Rhoynar.

Veering from the shore, the Hathay rounded a bend, shadowing the river's northern flank as it meandered into the Volantis East Side.

As the sky darkened and several kilometers lay between, Dany discerned the towering Black Wall looming in the northern expanse.

Volantis, the inaugural bastion beyond the First Daughter of Valyria beyond the Lands of Long Summer.

In those bygone days, Rhoyne held sway under its sovereign, the Children of the Rhoyne, the Rhoynar, who commanded the western expanse of Essos.

Thus fortified was this outpost, constructed with the same materials as the roofless Towers or Valyrian Road the "immortal stone," as intoned by the Oros High Priest.

The immortal stone, not an epitome of rock, but a fusion wrought by arcane means, where molten stone bore sorcery's mark, cast into molds, birthing structures eternally whole.

Like the unbroken Valyrian roads, spanning thousands of kilometers, or the Tower, a soaring edifice of three hundred meters.

Such, too, the colossal oval city wall in the Eastern Quarter, sixty meters in stature and exceeding fifteen in girth—a landing perch for Dragonlords.

Volantis burgeoned in the wake of Dragonlords traversing the Rhoyne Plains.

On the east bank, the Black Wall harbored the Old Blood of Valyria.

Contrastingly, the West Bank unfolded as a chaotic abyss, housing a diverse populace: foreign sojourners, maritime traders, indigent commoners, sellswords, fugitive transgressors, eunuchs, pirates, and nimble-fingered pickpockets alike.

Even Shadowbinders and Necromancers from Asshai were in the mix.

Spanning the expanse between the east and west, a lengthy bridge knits together the two cities.

Dany, a sojourner among the foreign vagabonds, embarks northward from the pier, tracing the Rhoyne's course into the East City, then traversing the Long Bridge to find repose at the Merchant's House Hotel in the West City.

As twilight surrenders to the nocturnal, the thoroughfares on either side unfurl their wares—shops, inns, and vendor stalls alike adorning themselves with parchment lanterns and oil lamps of stained glass. A kaleidoscope of hues illuminates the gray stone pavement underfoot.

Amidst the lively scene, pedestrians move between verdant halos, crimson lights, and ethereal shades of purple and orange.

The ambiance resonates, and the savory aroma of grilled meats from the vendors conjures an illusion of a modern night market for Dany.

Nearing the extensive bridge that binds the east and west quarters, the throng thickens, the way congested with cargo bearers, trolleys, and Hathay.

Most of these converge toward the long bridge or emerge from its other end.

Slaves swarm the streets like roaches in a refuse heap, scurrying about in dutiful servitude.

Kadlik, astride the back of an elephant, refrains from bellowing commands as he would on the quayside, for those traversing the Long Bridge brook no trifling. Only the Black Wall aristocrats atop elephants, along with affluent traders and the most opulent travelers mounted upon Hathay and Yucha, merit passage.

The gateway to the Long Bridge greets entrants with a Blackstone archway bedecked in carvings of Sphinxes, Manticores, Dragons, and other exotic fauna.

The elongated bridge that unfurls beyond the gate, akin to the Black Wall and the Tower, is forged from molten stone, buttressed by colossal columns.

In the annals scribed by Lomos Longstrider, this bridge, alongside the North Wall, Old Ghis Great Pyramid, and other structures, claims the mantle of the Ice and Fire World's nine preeminent architectural wonders—a testament to Valyria's zenith.

The bridge's crowd accommodates only two abreast, requiring a measured deceleration when vehicles from the opposing directions converge. The duo of young Hathays finds themselves dispersed amidst the press when navigating the bridge's span.

Mounted upon the elephant, the grand figure exuded an air of distinction, his gaze fixed northward as he aimed to retrace his steps to the Black Wall.

Yet, ere the gateway to the long bridge, he cast an appraising look at Dany, his eyes betraying a lustful intent. In a tone oozing entitlement, he extended an invitation: "Madam, though your lineage may lack the noble sheen of mine, your blood still bears the unmistakable mark of Valyria. The tumultuous West City is hardly befitting. Why not grace my abode for a brief respite?"

Arching his rotund double chin, he proudly proclaimed, "I hail from the esteemed House Kloris in the Black Wall, a realm seldom graced by the ordinary. Few, if any, outside noble circles ever step through its gates in their lifetimes."

In the semblance of a wealthy boy flaunting a Ferrari, he approached Dany, lowered his sunglasses with a flourish, and raised his chin, questioning, "Care to join me?"

With a gracious smile, Dany declined, "I appreciate your offer, but my path into the Black Wall awaits, though not tonight."

The grand figure remained silent, nodding regally as he rode away atop the elephant.

The long bridge, teeming with a clamor of people and laden with noxious air, compelled Dany to cover her nose with a furl of her hand, diverting her attention from the immediate surroundings.

Upon escaping the congestion surrounding the Long Bridge, the Hathay veered into a broad street on the western side, accelerating once more. The blond coachman turned and bestowed a reassuring smile upon Dany, "Fear not, esteemed guest. We shall soon arrive at Fishmonger's Square."

From the crossroads ahead, a sudden tumult emerged, and forthwith, twelve Unsullied emerged with lances, lining the crowd in two disciplined rows.

"Clear the way! Clear the way for Lord Triarch!" bellowed the Unsullied.

Kadlik swiftly steered the white elephant to the roadside, dismounting beneath its belly with an air of humility.

Dany stood on tiptoe, witnessing the Unsullied undergo a remarkable transformation, donning resplendent golden armor and vibrant tiger-skin capes that surpassed the subdued attire of her gray compatriots in sheer magnificence.

Leading the procession, the Unsullied were followed by forty to fifty Tiger Cloaks, encircling a gargantuan grey behemoth—the massive elephant, adorned in intricately embellished glazed armor, reflecting hues like rippling water with each dignified stride.

Atop the colossal elephant, a towering fortress perched so high that, passing through the intricately carved stone arch at the crossroads, the wooden canopy rasped against the stone, producing a harsh, grating symphony.

"I've heard tell that the Triarchs hold an esteemed position. While in office, their feet dare not touch the ground. Wherever they traverse, the back of an elephant must bear their weight," Barristan divulged to Dany in a hushed tone.

"Heh, from birth to death, the Dragonlords of Valyria upon the Tower never once feel the earth beneath their soles. Their descendants, bereft of Dragons, must content themselves with the noble perch of elephants," Dany teased.

"Pawoo!" resonated the resounding noise of the massive elephant.

"Is it meant for the entire city to hear? A daily promenade and the entire populace knows the Triarch patrols the streets," Dany grinned, baring her teeth while affectionately scratching the creature's ears.

"Triarch Doniphos in attendance!" announced a towering Tiger Cloak at the forefront.

In the aftermath of the calamity, Volantis, presuming itself the rightful successor to the Freehold, aspires dominion over the entire realm.

Yet, discord arises regarding the means to this end. The Old Blood champions martial prowess, while merchants and moneylenders advocate for commerce.

From these disparate ideologies emerged two factions, Tigers and Elephants, vying for dominion in the city.

The Tiger Cloaks, emanating from the combative Tigers, sported tiger helmets and green Old Hu stripes on their cheeks— a force of slave soldiers.

"Are you suggesting they'd go to any lengths against me? Volantis and the settlements along the Rhoyne Valley boast thirty to forty thousand Tiger Cloaks in total!" Dany remarked, bemused.

"Observe," the old man whispered, gesturing towards a sergeant who sprinted a few paces, horn in hand, "their looks differ entirely from the slave soldiers in Slaver's Bay. Strikingly akin to King's Landing's Gold Cloaks, they bear an air of pride and confidence."

Dany sighed and said no more.

Upon the departure of the Triarch's retinue, Kadlik tugged a belt fastened around the elephant's belly, prompting a monkey to scamper up its back.

A Hathay trailing behind Dany seized the opportunity to sneer and spit on the road below the elephant. "Heh, Doniphos enjoys but six more days of prestige."

His companion nodded in agreement, "The alliance is a forgone conclusion; three Triarchs, two openly expressing hostility toward that woman. As always, caution serves us well. Certainly, the denizens of the Black Wall won't choose him again."

The two carriages swiftly diverged, navigating separate streets at the crossroads. Dany, contemplative, mused, "This journey remains fraught. Indeed, had I not come to witness firsthand, the united front of Volantis, resolute in their opposition, would have eluded me."

"Not solely Volantis, I wager. Qarth, New Ghis, Lys, and the ilk are likely in a comparable state. However, dear lady, fret not too much. The adversaries of the Mother of Dragons will always be but a handful at the summit. The common folk… their hearts are like water, swayed by the wind and tides," reassured the old man in a subdued voice.

"Dang dang dang..."

"Dong dong dong..."

From the street ahead echoed bursts of clamor—a cadence set by gongs and the rhythmic resonance of flower drums. Accompanied by the mellifluous tunes of flutes and harps, the amalgamation formed a jubilant and resonant melody, neither raucous nor cacophonous.

Dany turned her head, maneuvering over the elephant's posterior to witness a procession of torches gradually approaching.

The individuals encircled by torchbearers comprised a spectacle of jugglers, including two dwarfs executing acrobatic feats of ball-catching and tossing. Among them were grotesque jesters bedecked with peculiar corbels and hooves, some perched atop stilts, belting out lively renditions of "Maiden of the Garland." Noteworthy among them was a man adorned in a golden leather coat, visage smeared in gold, mounted upon a white lion, brandishing a golden pennant in a display of martial prowess.

One distinctive feature unified these acrobats and torchbearers—a conspicuous double-Dragon family emblem painted on the backs of their attire.

Overheard from the street, someone remarked, "Methyso's juggling crew."

"Pawoo!" resounded from a massive elephant trailing behind the entertainers and torchbearers.

Prominently inscribed in an unusual fluorescent powder on the elephant's front was the moniker "Civilian Hero Methyso," while a silver-haired young Valyrian nobleman stood on the soft seat of the carriage at the rear.

He brandished a gleaming brass trumpet and proclaimed, "Commoners of West City, just like yourselves, my father, Methyso, is but a common man. He alone can truly represent the common folk.

For you, for all, for the greater good, I implore you to cast your votes for Methyso."

Dany's lips twitched, a surreal sensation akin to dreaming herself back to modern times and tuning into the news.

A blond giant behind a barbecue stall interjected, "Little Dak, your father Methyso may be commendable, but most commoners on our street lack voting eligibility! Tarry not, venture around Black Wall, and hinder not our commerce!"

Eligibility to vote in the Volantis Triarch elections was reserved for Free Folks meeting the property standard. Few on the west bank, and even on the east bank, struggled to attain voting rights.

The bustling scene reflected a semblance of democracy, yet in truth, the Triarch elections were a play orchestrated by the affluent and aristocratic class.

A robust middle-aged woman emerged from a small establishment adorned with the sign 'Dragon Grocery Store.' Her voice boomed louder than sizzling sausages, "What's your game, Little Duck? Noble blood, who would choose the likes of you!?"

"Haha, Miss Chloe, surely you possess the right to vote, don't you? Bless my father with your ballot!" The silver-haired youth atop Hathay chuckled, his laughter carrying a jester's tone.

"Come down," a woman of comparable stature to the portly eunuch Belwas gestured to the youth. "Stay a night, and my vote shall be bestowed to your father!"

"Hahaha..." echoed the communal laughter. Bathed in the torch's yellow light, the young boy blushed, abandoning his voting efforts, instead incessantly urging the elephant's rider to hasten their departure.

"Chloe, perhaps in hushed tones, you should inform him. On the streets, that lad bears a lot of desires in his heart, yet he cannot set them free!" suggested a plump man tending to roasting meat.

This prompted another round of hearty laughter beneath the illuminated torchlight.