Lucerys the Menace: Reborn

Chapter 15: The Spark of Revolution

The next morning, before the sun had fully risen, Lucerys Velaryon stood atop the jagged cliffs of Dragonstone, the salt spray of the Narrow Sea clinging to his skin. Beside him, Arrax stretched his wings lazily, the young dragon's golden eyes watching his rider with curiosity. Lucerys ran a hand over the smooth scales of Arrax's neck, his thoughts far from the horizon.

He had work to do.

Lucerys climbed higher up the rocky slope, his boots scraping against the black stone. The island was alive with volcanic energy, the faint sulfuric scent lingering in the air. It was here, in these mountains, that Dragonstone’s ancient secrets were buried. Reaching a plateau near the top, Lucerys took a moment to steady his breathing. The entrance to a shallow cavern yawned before him, its mouth framed by jagged rocks that glistened faintly in the dim light.

He stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. The air was heavy, the faint glow of molten rock illuminating the walls. Scattered across the ground were dragon eggs—smooth, hard shells of varying colors and patterns, each radiating a subtle warmth. Lucerys paused, momentarily captivated by their beauty. But his purpose lay deeper within.

At the heart of the cavern, he found it: veins of coal, dark and glinting, embedded in the rock. He had learned of coal’s potential from his fragmented memories of a life long past. It was a key ingredient, one that could fuel his ambition. He took the pickaxe slung over his back and swung it against the stone, the sharp clang echoing through the chamber. Sparks flew with each strike, and bit by bit, chunks of coal broke free.

By the time he emerged from the cave, his arms ached, and his clothes were streaked with soot. The coal weighed heavy in the sack slung over his shoulder, but it wasn’t enough. He needed more.

Back at the castle, Lucerys summoned three of the household servants, their expressions wary as they bowed before him. He wasted no time. His voice was steady, commanding. "I need you to gather materials. Saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal. Search the island and bring them to me. Do not question why. Do not speak of this to anyone. Understood?"

The servants exchanged nervous glances but nodded, murmuring their assent before hurrying away. Lucerys watched them go, his mind already racing with the possibilities. The pieces were falling into place.

Later that evening, Lucerys sat in the castle’s armory, the coal piled neatly on a workbench before him. By the flickering light of a brazier, he began experimenting with mixtures, grinding the coal into fine powder and blending it with other materials. The process was slow, meticulous, and dangerous. One misstep, and the volatile compounds could ignite prematurely. But Lucerys was careful. His hands moved with precision, his focus unshaken.

The castle around him was quiet, the stillness broken only by the soft crackle of the fire and the occasional distant roar of a dragon. Lucerys worked deep into the night, his mind consumed by the vision of what he was creating. A weapon of fire and thunder, one that could pierce armor and shatter the illusions of power held by those who opposed him.

By the time dawn approached, Lucerys stood over his work, a small prototype resting in his hands. It was crude, imperfect, but it was real. He held it up to the light, the weight of it grounding him. This was more than a weapon. It was a declaration, a promise to himself and to the world.

Three days later, the servants returned.

It was just before dawn when their hurried footsteps echoed through the stone halls of Dragonstone. They paused before the heavy oak doors of Prince Lucerys’ chamber, hesitant to disturb the young prince. After a moment of nervous deliberation, one of them knocked.

Inside, Lucerys stirred in his bed, the sound dragging him from a restless sleep. He sat up, rubbing the fatigue from his eyes. "Enter," he called, his voice groggy but sharp with curiosity.