A New Valyrian Dragonlord

Nyessis Maegyr led me through the winding paths of the palace gardens, a lush expanse of exotic trees and flowing fountains that masked the ruthless nature of Volantis' ruling elite. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine, yet beneath the beauty, I sensed an unspoken tension.

"You handled yourself well before the Triarchs," she said at last, her tone even. "Few would dare to speak as you did. Fewer still would leave that chamber alive."

I inclined my head, keeping my steps measured beside hers. "It was a calculated risk. Volantis has long clung to the shadow of Valyria. I offered them the chance to grasp at its lingering embers."

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye. "You speak as if you are certain of your own worth."

"I am," I replied simply.

Nyessis stopped beside a reflecting pool, its surface rippling under the light of lanterns hanging from curved iron stands. "House Maegyr has always been the most ambitious of the ruling families. The Elephants hoard their gold, the Tigers dream of conquest, but we... we seek something greater."

"And what is that?" I asked, watching her closely.

She turned to face me fully, her violet eyes gleaming. "Legacy. To rule not just through strength or wealth, but through something enduring. You claim to be Valyrian. If that is true, then your knowledge could be invaluable. But if you are lying..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, the threat clear.

I met her gaze, unflinching. "I have no need for lies. I have seen the ruins of my ancestors. I have heard the whispers of power long since thought dead. And I intend to reclaim what was lost."

She studied me for a long moment before smiling. "Then perhaps we can be of use to one another."

I did not trust Nyessis, not yet. But in Volantis, alliances were forged in necessity, not sentiment.

"Perhaps," I allowed.

-----

The next morning, I was summoned to the Hall of Records, a vast archive within the Black Walls where the oldest scrolls and texts of Volantis were kept. A servant led me through the towering shelves of aged parchment and crumbling tomes before stopping before an elder scribe dressed in faded gold robes.

"You are the Valyrian petitioner?" the old man rasped.

"I am Rhaegis Darharis," I confirmed.

He studied me before motioning toward a long stone table where several scrolls were unfurled. "These writings speak of the last days before the Doom. House Darharis was known for its... unconventional practices."

I stepped closer, scanning the ancient texts. They spoke of blood rituals, of lost sanctuaries where dragon eggs were nurtured, and of experiments meant to extend the life of Valyria's chosen bloodlines.

A name caught my eye: The Vault of Embers.

I turned to the scribe. "Where is this place?"

His gaze darkened. "If the Vault of Embers ever existed, it was lost with Valyria. But some believe remnants of its knowledge were carried west... beyond the Smoking Sea."

A flicker of something cold passed through me. If there were remnants of Valyria's power beyond the ruins, then I had more work to do than I had anticipated.

Nyessis had been right. Knowledge was a dangerous thing. And I intended to wield it well.

The weight of history pressed down upon me as I pored over the aged scrolls. The Vault of Embers-if it was more than mere legend-could hold secrets that even the greatest of Valyria's scions had failed to preserve. My mind raced with possibilities. Had fragments of that knowledge truly survived? And if so, who else might be seeking them?

Nyessis Maegyr had offered an alliance of convenience, but she had yet to reveal what she truly desired. That made her dangerous. If she sensed weakness, she would strike. But if she saw strength-true Valyrian strength-she might yet become an asset.

I turned to the elder scribe. "You speak as if others have searched for the Vault before."

His weathered face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes flickered with something—perhaps hesitation, perhaps something darker. "Many have sought it. None have returned."

"Yet the knowledge remains."

"For those who dare to look."

A test, then. Volantis was not so different from the Red Keep. Knowledge was power, but only if one had the will to claim it.

I rolled the parchment carefully, as if sealing away a dangerous secret. "I will need access to the restricted archives."

The scribe's lips curled into something akin to amusement. "Knowledge comes at a cost, young dragon."

"I am prepared to pay it."

He chuckled dryly. "That remains to be seen."

-----

That evening, Nyessis summoned me again. This time, we met in a private chamber within the Black Walls, away from prying eyes. A single brazier burned low, casting flickering shadows upon the intricate murals depicting the conquests of Old Valyria.

"You have stirred the waters, Rhaegis Darharis," she said, reclining upon a couch draped in silken tapestries. "The Triarchs watch you closely. Some with curiosity. Others with suspicion."

"Then I have their attention," I replied evenly. "That is the first step."

She studied me, her violet eyes sharp. "And what is your next step?"

"I intend to uncover what has been forgotten."

A slow smile spread across her lips. "Then you may be of use to me after all."

I did not ask what she truly wanted. Not yet. But I could feel the game unfolding, a battle of wits and ambition as old as the Freehold itself.

And I intended to win.

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