After a forbidden night with Ser Criston Cole, Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen is forced by her father, King Viserys, to drink the moon tea and protect her honor. To shield her image further, she weds Ser Laenor Velaryon, and together they move to Drift...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Present Time
Valyrian Castle
"This isn't weird at all," Angelina muttered as they trailed behind Dahlia into the castle. "She just sliced her hand open and opened the doors with blood—and we're all acting like that's normal?" she whispered to Fred and George, her tone sharp with disbelief.
"You know our Dahlia," Fred murmured back, though his voice carried a nervous edge. "She's always been... special."
"Prophecies, Parseltongue, the Chosen One," George added with a crooked grin, though his eyes darted warily to the glowing torches. "She's our little box of surprises. Why not add 'Unlocker of Ancient Castles' to the list?"
Once inside, they followed a long, wide corridor lit by torches flickering along the walls. The air smelled faintly of smoke and stone, each step echoing as if the castle itself were listening.
The passage opened into a vast stone courtyard at the heart of the fortress, enclosed on all sides and ringed by four grand staircases. Each seemed to beckon in a different direction, but Dahlia's gaze settled on the broad northern stair. Without hesitation, she began to climb.
At its center loomed a magnificent dragon statue, carved from smooth white stone that gleamed like polished ivory. Every detail had been captured—the fierce snarl of its muzzle, the curve of its wings poised mid-flight, the delicate ridges of its scales. It was so lifelike it seemed ready to stir, to breathe.
Near its claws rested a stone plaque inscribed with ancient words: Arrax, jentys hen gods.
Dahlia whispered the translation almost unconsciously, her fingers brushing the carved letters. "Beautiful and powerful Arrax."
"Why dragons?" Ginny asked, her eyes darting from one carved figure to the next. Statues and carvings seemed to cover every wall, every column, every corner of the courtyard. "There are so many of them. Do you think they were... pets?"
Dahlia shook her head slowly, her gaze steady. "No. They weren't pets. They were gods." She pointed to the great white statue before them. "This one is Arrax—his plaque calls him the Ruler of Gods. The archway outside bore the name Vermax, Protector of Valyria. They worshiped them, Ginny. Dragons weren't just companions here. They were divine."
The two girls tilted their heads back together, gazing up at the enormous stone beast with quiet awe.
At the dragon's feet, the staircase split in two directions, curving upward and then merging again in a great spiral that wound its way into the tower above. The group began the long ascent.
For ten minutes they climbed, their footsteps echoing against the smooth stone walls. Eventually, the stairs opened to the sky, the roof falling away to reveal the sun burning overhead. At the summit waited a pair of towering double doors, wrought entirely of gleaming metal.