Lucerys the Menace: Reborn

Chapter 17: Spark of innovation

Lucerys Velaryon stood in the dimly lit chamber that had become his sanctuary amidst the chaos of war. The air was thick with the acrid scent of sulfur and the faint tang of metal, a testament to the hours he had spent perfecting his creation. On the table before him rested a sleek, menacing object—wood and steel melded into a form both foreign and formidable. He called it a gun, a weapon born from fragmented memories of a life he could scarcely recall, yet one that promised to shift the tides of the conflict consuming Westeros.
The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the room as he ran his fingers along the barrel, feeling the cool steel beneath his touch. It was ready—crude, perhaps, but functional. And now, it was time to share it with someone who could help him wield its potential. He had summoned Mysaria to this secluded corner of Dragonstone, a place where the walls themselves seemed to guard secrets. Their alliance, forged over the promise of food for King’s Landing and a seat on his mother’s council, was still fresh, but Lucerys knew that trust alone would not suffice. He needed to show her something tangible, something to prove his vision was more than mere ambition.
The heavy oak door creaked open, and Mysaria stepped inside, her presence as quiet and deliberate as a shadow. Her dark eyes swept the room, taking in the scattered parchments and the faint haze of smoke before settling on Lucerys. She wore a simple yet elegant tunic, her demeanor a blend of curiosity and caution.

“You wished to see me, my prince?” Her voice was smooth, carrying a hint of intrigue beneath its calm surface.
Lucerys nodded, gesturing to the table. “Yes, Lady Mysaria. I have something to show you—something that could change the course of this war.”

Mysaria approached, her gaze falling upon the gun. She tilted her head, her brows knitting together as she studied it. “What is this? Some kind of… instrument?”

“It’s a weapon,” Lucerys replied, lifting it carefully into his hands. “I call it a gun.”

“A gun?” Mysaria echoed, stepping closer. Her fingers hovered near the barrel, not quite touching it, as if unsure whether it might bite. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. How does it work?”

Lucerys met her gaze, his voice steady. “It’s not magic, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s a device that uses a mixture called gunpowder to propel a projectile—a lead ball—at high speed.”

Mysaria’s eyes widened slightly, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. “Gunpowder? What is that?”
“It’s a combination of saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal,” Lucerys explained, setting the gun back on the table and reaching for a small pouch. He poured a pinch of the black powder onto a metal plate, holding it up for her to see.

“When ignited, it creates a powerful explosion that launches the ball through this barrel.”

Mysaria leaned forward, peering at the powder with a mix of fascination and skepticism. “And this… gun… can kill a man?”

“From a distance,” Lucerys said, his tone firm. “Without the need for a sword or a bow. It’s more accurate than an arrow and can pierce armor with enough force.”

Mysaria straightened, crossing her arms as she regarded him. “That sounds like sorcery to me. Are you certain it’s not some form of dark magic?”

Lucerys allowed a faint smile to tug at his lips. “I assure you, it’s not magic. It’s science—something I’ve pieced together from knowledge I’ve… gathered. I’ve studied the properties of these materials and engineered this weapon myself.”

Mysaria’s expression remained guarded, but her curiosity was palpable. “Hmm. Can you show me?”
“Of course,” Lucerys replied. “But we should do it outside. It’s safer there.”

He led her through the winding corridors of Dragonstone, the gun cradled carefully in his arms, until they emerged into a small courtyard overlooking the sea. The wind whipped around them, carrying the salt spray of the Narrow Sea, as Lucerys set up a wooden target against the stone wall. Mysaria watched in silence as he loaded the gun—first a measure of gunpowder, then a lead ball, packed tightly with a ramrod.