You were the finest swordsman in the city.
Just so, but why? Other men were stronger, faster, younger, why was Syrio Forel the best? I will tell you now. He touched the tip of his little finger lightly to his eyelid. "The seeing, the true seeing, that is the heart of it.
"Hear me. The ships of Braavos sail as far as the winds blow, to lands strange and wonderful, and when they return their captains fetch queer animals to the Sealord's menagerie. Such animals as you have never seen, striped horses, great spotted things with necks as long as stilts, hairy mouse-pigs as big as cows, stinging manticores, tigers that carry their cubs in a pouch, terrible walking lizards with scythes for claws. Syrio Forel has seen these things.
On the day I am speaking of, the first sword was newly dead, and the Sealord sent for me. Many bravos had come to him, and as many had been sent away, none could say why. When I came into his presence, he was seated, and in his lap was a fat yellow cat. He told me that one of his captains had brought the beast to him, from an island beyond the sunrise. 'Have you ever seen her like?' he asked of me"
And to him I said, ‘Each night in the alleys of Braavos I see a thousand like him,' and the Sealord laughed, and that day I was named the first sword.