Kebechet only watches her disappear. "Would that I could, little queen."

Danaerys is dragged down into the darkness and the sand, but it does not drown her. It takes her to another place entirely, a room filled with light and fire. Endless flames lick at the walls, the ceiling, the floor. She is within an orb of fire, and a voice calls out to her.

"The smallest of my children." An old man whose bony hands she may recall from moments ago, pale as a ghost, with milky purple eyes. "Nothing was expected of you. And now, this..."