Guess who's back! It's me!
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"What say you, wife?"
The silver-haired Lady of Driftmark exchanged glances back and forth between her husband and the parchment on the desk.
"I would say that these are the words of drunken sailors and vagrants, had they been stated by anyone else."
Corlys Velaryon found himself nodding in agreement. If it wasn't for his brother's familiar scrawl, he would have thrown the parchment into the fireplace and forgotten all about it.
Fortunately, or unfortunately, the situation proved otherwise.
"Though given Vaemond's disposition, I cannot help but wonder if this is merely an excuse he wishes to give for the delay in his trading assignment."
"While I agree with Vaemond's tendency to be the 'Master of Complaints,'" his lips quirked briefly at his son's nickname for Vaemond. "He would not go as far as to fabricate an outright lie. If anything, this matches the gossip Laenor and I have caught from the passing sailors."
Rhaenys quirked an eyebrow. "What rumors would those be?"
He reclined in his seat and stared upwards. "That the Doom had come again upon Valyria, an unholy presence has settled there and raised the dragons of old, and will soon spread its hand across the world."
She idly tapped the armrest. "Hmph, drunken vagrants' tales indeed."
"Yes, but one of the things I've learned in my travels is that there's always an inkling of truth to each of these tales." He picked up the parchment and held it against the flame's light. "What we should be paying attention to from these rumors are the sightings of this new...dragon."
There were already three wild dragons that were fostered in Dragonstone, and they each came with their own problems. Cannibal, who preyed on dragon young and eggs but who at least ate those who would try to ride him. Sheepstealer, whom they heard endless complaints of. Grey Ghost, who made the smallfolk nervous.
Another dragon, out in the world, where anyone in Volantis or Essos could try to claim him. No, they did not need an adversarial dragon-riding House to challenge him.
Rhaenys nodded. "And according to Vaemond, a human riding atop it."
Corlys raised the goblet to his lips and gulped it down. A rider...one not beholden to the Targaryens.
"If this is true, then the implications could be far more damaging than we realize."
The division in the court had never been clearer. The blacks and the greens had made their way into every facet of life in the Red Keep and outside of it. The yard, the great hall, even the servants. Last he heard from Laenor, even the smallfolk of King's Landing had begun whispering Aegon's name with raised cups and mocking Rhaenyra's claim. The one person keeping the two factions together was the king who, ironically, was also the only one completely clueless or apathetic to the whole affair. He knew His Grace was a peace-loving man, he had always been one since the days of his grandfather, and in his younger days, it was a boon for the realm, but he seemed to willingly blind himself to the slightest mention of unrest until it came smashing in his face.
One thing remained clear though: whether he liked it or not, Corlys' house would be drawn into this mess.
He could feel the storm approaching, his years at sea honing his inner feelings of danger. The question that remained was what would happen when that storm hit the Seven Kingdoms.
"If we are to secure the future of our House, we must ensure that we have the means to withstand whatever they may try." And that meant getting this dragonrider's loyalty before the Greens could.
His wife gently swirled her own cup. "Those being dragons."
"We have Meleys, Vhagar, Seasmoke, Syrax and Caraxes by virtue of Rhaenyra and Daemon. Our granddaughters are strong-willed, and I have no doubt that dragons will hatch for them." He rose from his chair and started pacing the room. "On the other hand, Alicent and her brood have only Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. Aemond has yet to claim his own, but I suspect it will not be long before he does."
"That still leaves us with an advantage. Vhagar is the largest dragon alive."
"Even the slightest gust of wind can change the course of a ship," countered the ageing Lord. An unknown dragonrider siding with the Greens could tip the scales in any number of ways. To speak nothing of their own ambitions as well.
An unknown rider could pose an unknown boon as much as an unknown danger, and he was keen to turn into the former before it could become the latter. House Velaryon was already one of the most powerful Houses in the kingdoms, with another rider they would be second to only the royal family, even higher than the Hightowers.
The pun made Corlys quirk his lip. Pity that his grandsons were not truly Velaryon. But their chance would come.
"And what of this 'unholy presence'?"
He waved her off. "That is the exaggeration. A dragon will cause folk to say anything." He paused for a moment, then he turned to Rhaenys. "I would ask that you and Meleys accompany me to investigate this."
The princess turned to meet his gaze, a flash of surprise across her features. Then, comprehension settled in.
"You wish for us to ride to Valyria on dragonback."
"We have already agreed to visit Laena and Daemon in Pentos, so gathering supplies will not be an issue and neither will carrying them be. Remember our trip to Qohor?"
Rhaenys smiled softly at the memory. "Aye, a beautiful moment after our wedding."
Corlys let out a chuckle. "Indeed. And every day we tarry is a day one of the Free Cities or Seven forbid, the former Triarchy, has a chance to claim this new dragonrider. With fair winds, it will not take us long to fly from Pentos to our ancestral home."
Her look turned thoughtful and she let out a soft hum. "Where did Vaemond say that the dragon was spotted? The isles are many and the Doom shrouds them from our eyes."
"He didn't specify, but according to some of the sailors, it was sighted somewhere along the southern isles, near the city of Old Valyria itself. A rider would need sources of food and water, for himself and the dragon; it would be folly for them to reside deeper in those ruins."
A few moments later, she inclined her head and stood up. "I shall tell the servants to prepare for a trip. When do we leave?"
"I am due to receive the king's permission for entering the isles any day now, so by the high tide after that."
The king's reply came the very next day, so after hurried preparations, Rhaenys mounted the Red Queen, clad in her armor and her hair tied back. Corlys nodded to one of his men and they raised a torch, to which the beast responded with a bellow and took off, soaring through the skies. With the blowing of a horn, Corlys and his escort followed them eastward.
They had arrived in Pentos after a week of fair winds. A lone pirate ship did try to approach them but was deterred by the presence of Rhaenys and her dragon. They were greeted with honors by the magister and with warm hugs by their family - excluding Daemon, who nonetheless gave Corlys a respectful nod.
A few days later, the Queen Who Never Was helped her husband mount her dragon. Only Laena had come to see them off, though that was by design.
"Bringing Daemon along is not the ideal solution," pointed out the old mariner. "If we are to parley with this rider, we need not a blunt instrument like him."
Rhaenys agreed after a moment of thought, albeit reluctantly. "I would prefer a show of force, husband, to show this newcomer that we are not to be trifled with, but you make a strong point. And it would be better to minimize any potential risks." Not that there would be any.
"Sōvēs!"
Gripping tightly onto his wife's waist, Corlys felt a surge of excitement as Meleys beat her wings. He was a man of the sea as much as his wife was a lady of the sky and would never trade his ability to sail a ship, but the feeling of rising off the earth and soaring through the clouds brought a strange joy to his heart. The world and all its splendor lay before them, and none could touch them.
The cold wind buffeted their bodies as the waters of the Summer Sea rolled under them. Thankfully, the scarves they had taken provided ample protection. Rhaenys had warned him of the frigid breezes that could sometimes strike in the air, and he had equipped himself accordingly. The Targaryen princess did not need such things; flying was in her blood.
The sun hadn't even begun its descent downwards when faint peaks appeared on the horizon. A voyage of nearly three moons, reduced to mere hours. Despite his long years of marriage to Rhaenys, he could scarcely believe it.
"Old Valyria…" he heard his wife mutter. "There is naught but death in these lands. What kind of dragonrider could think to live here?"
"A desperate one, mayhap." He could see why King Jaeharys the Wise forbade anyone from venturing into these lands. They had claimed the life and mind of his niece Aerea and Balerion the Black Dread itself was never the same. Dark clouds of black and red swirled above the peaks, and the faint rumbling of thunder could be overheard above Meleys' wingbeats. The very air itself started to feel clammy and stale, as though it was slowly being drained of life.
Soon, they came upon a sight that made their breath hitch. "The Southern Gates," he whispered.
Two enormous sphinxes, carved from black stone, flanked the mouth of a mighty river. Behind them were the broken remnants of a mighty arch. Through that arch they saw little but more fog, and Corlys swore he saw…something moving in the water.
Meleys let out a low hiss that thrummed through her spine and up the Velaryons' bodies. "We cannot linger here long. We must stick to the outskirts."
And so they did, staying far enough from the shrouded ruins so as not to discomfort the dragon yet close enough to let them see anything unusual peeking from the clouds. They had made it to the, by Corlys' estimation, south-eastern part of the isles when they both agreed to turn back and retraced their steps. The sun slowly started to descend from its zenith as they began to fly back. Yet as the light of day started to dim, the old sailor's attention was drawn to a slight hitch in his wife's voice.
"What is that?"
Corlys looked towards where his wife was pointing and blinked. There in the distance, obscured by Valyria's ever-present clouds and fog, was a strange purple glow.
"I have no idea." As he spoke those words though, a shiver went up his spine. Just looking at…whatever it was, it made him unsettled. "Let us try and stay away from it."
While nothing had changed upon his wife's face, the way she tightly held her dragon's reins told him plenty. They stared into the distance for a few minutes, trying to spot something.
"Mayhaps we require a more direct approach. Hang on tightly," stated Rhaenys. "Dracarys!"
Meleys bellowed and a burst of scorching flame spewed out of her maw, echoing throughout the land. Corlys winced as the sound rattled his ears and the flames heated his body. He understood his wife's reasoning, but maybe she had been too direct.
"A…good suggestion." Rhaenys guided Meleys to fly in circles for a short while as they looked towards the isles, but nothing new appeared. "Let us repeat this all the way back. If we do not find anything, we will return to Pentos and resume on the morrow after."
"I agree." And that was their new routine; every short while Meleys would release a roar accompanied by a burst of flame, upon which they would circle in the air for a short while. When nothing responded, they kept flying.
But it was on the fifth - or was it the sixth? - call that they heard it — a faint, yet nonetheless unmistakable roar.
His wife glanced back at him and as their eyes met, they knew the other had not imagined it. Corlys glanced at the shrouded horizon once more, and then he saw it.
There, just behind a peak east of the great strait that separated the main island from its two lesser sisters, was a small shape, flying around. What was interesting was the fact that…it seemed to gleam, like polished Myrish glass against the sun. Honestly, he didn't know if he would have been able to spot the shape without it.
With a jerk of the reins, the red dragon flew towards the peak. As they flew closer, the beast's features started to clear up, but then it turned and dove right in between the mountains.
"Curses!" Swore Rhaenys. "It is fast."
"Can we still catch up to it?"
She shook her head as she pulled on Meleys' reins. "I would rather not. We still do not know what lurks in those isles and by the time we reach that pass, it will have gone deep inland."
Corlys bit his lip, weighing his wife's words, and conceded. "I agree. I would not have us become the next Aerea. Let us return for now. At the very least, we have a more precise idea of where to look for it."
She nodded and with a soft growl, Meleys sharply turned around. As they flew away from the ruined lands, Corlys spared a look behind him. At the very least, the day was not a total loss.
They had returned as the sky had turned dark and the stars revealed themselves. The Red Queen landed on the beach with a thud, heavy breaths escaping her maw. Corlys was not surprised; a flight back and forth like that was bound to be taxing, even for a dragon as mighty as Meleys. They were greeted on the way to the manse by Daemon and his guards. The prince enquired on their whereabouts, to which they responded with a tale they had previously agreed on: they had decided to take tours of Essos on dragonback, with Corlys stating it was an experience he wished to relieve from their younger days; a partial truth - he did consider this somewhat of a vacation. While Daemon eyed him with some suspicion, he also sported an amused smirk.
They had dined on the provisions they had packed, seeing no point in wasting already fine food. Rhaneys had decided to retire early, stating her back needed soothing. Corlys was tempted to join her, but not before making use of the magister's maps of Essos to try and mark down and narrow their field of search.
Thus, they tried again the following day. Waking up at the crack of dawn, they flew out to the islands and scoured the now-named western strait. Meleys bellowed fire and called out, they then spotted the gleam in the sky, gave chase, proceeded to lose it in the dark clouds, and then returned back to spend time with their family. The good news was that the trip was somewhat shorter, considering that they covered a more narrow area of searching.
This pattern repeated itself for several days, and each time they would fail to catch the dragon before it disappeared into Valyria. During each of those times, Corlys noted that Meleys managed to get closer and closer to the dragon before it managed to retreat. It was during the sixth attempt though, when Rhaenys' patience finally bore fruit.
"It's close enough! We cannot let it get away!" Rhaenys cried out, and with a bellow, Meleys dived in right after the unknown dragon.
Corlys wanted to protest, saying that it would put them at a risk that they had agreed to avoid. But the look on his wife's face erased any such notions. Velaryon she may be by marriage, but she was still a Targaryen. Fire and blood ran through their veins, and it showed when their wrath was roused.
Clinging tightly onto her waist, the seafarer felt the wind sharply stinging his cheeks as Meleys flew through the pass. When it ended, the view expanded into a thick jungle, filled with black-leaved trees, and on a large boulder, there it was.
Corlys gaped in shock at the sight of the beast. When it came to dragons, they generally appeared similar to one another. While they varied in the colors of their scales and the shapes of their snouts, along with the number of horns on their heads, they all shared many identifiable characteristics. The dragon before him though was completely different. Instead of scales, it was clad head to foot (four feet! Not two!) in what seemed to be steel armor, with not a hint of scales showing. Despite that, its powerful muscles could be seen with the plates, as though they were welded directly onto its skin. Its spines and wings crackled with orange fire and he even saw a flash of lightning erupting from beneath its feet. The dragon lifted its head and let out a mighty roar, akin to a howling wind combined with grating steel.
"By the gods…" muttered Rhaenys. "What manner of dragon is this? And who could afford to clad such a beast in full armor like a knight?"
"I…I must say, I do not know. It cannot be anyone from the Free Cities, else they would have crowed it to the world." He then shook his head. "No matter; we will find our answers soon, but we should not aggravate it."
At Rhaenys' urging, Meleys slowly descended upon the ruined earth, the trees bending away with the wingbeats. The dragon's glowing eyes followed them, not moving once from its position. Good - then the rider could not be far behind.
"Stay here, do not attack unless I say so," said Corlys. He picked himself up and slowly climbed down Meleys' body. He slowly approached the dragon as it switched its stare to him. When he made it halfway, something leaped from behind a nearby tree and landed right in front of him.
"ποιος είσαι?"
It was a girl, a very unusual one at that. She looked young, seemingly only barely older than his granddaughters. She wore a white shirt with a strange leather skirt and leggings, with an even odder cloak - no, it was a coat - that hung around her neck. Her braided hair was of spun gold, even more so than a Lannister, with blue eyes that glared at him. Yet several things betrayed her otherwise fair appearance: the first was a gold cross marking on the middle of her forehead, like a tattoo. The second were the small horns that protruded from the sides of her head. And the last thing was the massive hammer resting on her shoulder. He had seen warriors use war hammers before, but this one looked like it would take two, maybe three strong men to carry - and she was holding it like nothing!
Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, was not a man easily taken by surprise. He had traveled all the way to Asshai-by-the-shadow, and seen all manners of wonders and mysteries throughout the known world. From shadowbinders to warlocks, basilisks to elephants, he was considered to be one of the most knowledgeable and well-traveled men alive. But this past week…had left him completely gobsmacked.
'Is that a dragon's skull on the hammer's head?'
So, what do you think? I put a lot of effort into this!
The Greek part came from the idea that Ecclesia is a Greek name and that many of the Dogmatika Nation's symbols are based on Byzantine iconography.
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