House of dragon: new valyria

The walk back through the winding halls of the temple was quiet, save for the echoes of our footsteps against the ancient stone. The air still carried that faint metallic taste, as if the flames had left their mark not just on the walls, but on the very atmosphere itself. I let the silence linger, using the time to collect my thoughts. My father, as always, gave nothing away.

Once we reached the open air, the sun was dipping low on the horizon, casting the city of Mephnous in long, golden shadows. The spires of the temple behind us glowed faintly, the last rays of sunlight caressing their peaks. It was beautiful, in a way that felt almost ironic. A city so steeped in power and politics, appearing serene.

I turned to my father, who stood with his arms crossed, gazing out over the city below. His expression was inscrutable, as it often was, but I knew him well enough to recognize when he was deep in thought.

"You disapprove," I said finally, breaking the silence.

His gaze didn't waver, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Disapprove? No. What you did back there was... bold. Perhaps too bold."

"Boldness was necessary," I countered, my voice calm but firm. "They won't move without it."

He turned to face me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And yet you speak as though they already belong to you. The temple does not give its allegiance so easily, Viston. Nor does it give its power without cost."

"I know that," I replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "But they're already wavering. They know the old ways aren't enough anymore. If I didn't push them now, someone else would have—someone less capable, someone who might lead them to ruin."

His expression softened, just a fraction. "You've grown into this role faster than I anticipated. But there is a difference between ambition and recklessness. Be careful, Viston. The temple is not just a tool to be wielded. It is a force that can consume even the most capable among us."

I nodded, though inwardly, I felt a flicker of frustration. My father's warnings were always laced with truth, but they often felt like shackles. He saw danger where I saw opportunity, hesitation where I saw resolve.

Still, he wasn't wrong. The temple's allegiance wasn't secured yet. The Keepers' words echoed in my mind: If you wish to walk this path, you will be tested.

What that test would entail, I could only guess.

We descended the steps of the temple together, the city sprawling out before us. Mephnous was alive with activity, its streets bustling with merchants, scholars, and the ever-watchful eyes of guards stationed at every corner. The Veldora banner flew high above our estate in the distance, its black and crimson colors stark against the sky.

As we approached our waiting carriage, my father spoke again. "You understand what this means, don't you?"

"That we're one step closer," I said, glancing at him.

He shook his head. "That we're now being watched. The temple doesn't summon lightly. The council will see this as a shift—one they may not take kindly to."

"Let them watch," I said, my tone sharpening. "Let them bristle and whisper in their chambers. It doesn't matter. The new Valyria is coming, whether they like it or not."

He studied me for a long moment, and then, for the first time in what felt like hours, he smiled. "You sound like me when I was your age."

"Is that a compliment?"

"It's a warning."

The ride back to our estate was quiet, the weight of the day settling over us both. But as I stared out at the city passing by, my mind was already racing.

The temple's power was essential, but it wasn't the only piece of the puzzle. There were alliances to forge, rival houses to sway or silence, and the ever-present threat of dissent within our own ranks. My vision for Valyria wasn't just a dream—it was a war, fought not with swords and fire, but with words, influence, and sheer force of will.

And I intended to win.

By the time we reached the estate, the sky had darkened to a deep indigo, stars beginning to prick the heavens above. The estate gates opened for us, and I stepped out of the carriage, my father following close behind. The air here was different, cooler, calmer, but I felt no relief.

A servant greeted us at the entrance, bowing low. "My lords, a message has arrived. It bears the seal of House Vreyn."

I exchanged a glance with my father, his expression immediately darkening. House Vreyn had been a thorn in our side for years, their influence growing unchecked in the western territories. If they were sending messages now, it meant they had sensed the shift as well.

"Bring it to my study," my father said curtly.

As the servant hurried off, I turned to him. "What do you think they want?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "If I had to guess? To gauge how far you're willing to go."

I smirked, feeling a spark of excitement. "Then let's show them."

_______________________________________

The study was dimly lit, the flickering glow of a single lantern casting shadows across the heavy oak table. My father stood by the window, his hands clasped behind his back as he gazed out into the night. The air inside was heavy, thick with the tension that seemed to follow us ever since the temple's summons.

The servant returned with the sealed letter, bowing deeply as he handed it to my father. The crest of House Vreyn—a serpent coiled around a dagger—was pressed into the crimson wax. My father took the letter, turning it over in his hands as if it might reveal its secrets before he even opened it.

"They're testing the waters," he muttered, almost to himself.

"Let them," I said, stepping closer. "They'll find the waters deeper than they're prepared for."

He shot me a glance, half-amused, half-wary. Breaking the seal, he unfolded the parchment and began to read. His expression hardened as his eyes moved down the page, the faint lines around his mouth tightening into a frown.

"Typical," he said after a moment, tossing the letter onto the table. "They're calling for a meeting—a private meeting. No council, no witnesses."

I picked up the letter, skimming its contents. The language was flowery, the kind of subtle posturing House Vreyn was known for, but the meaning was clear. They wanted to meet with us to "discuss the future of Valyria's western territories," which was to say, they wanted to find out how much of a threat we posed.

"They're afraid," I said, setting the letter down. "The temple's summons has shaken them. They know the balance of power is shifting, and they want to know where we stand."

"Fear can be dangerous," my father said, moving to the table and leaning over it. "Cornered animals are unpredictable. House Vreyn may feign civility, but they won't hesitate to strike if they think it will secure their position."

"Then let's make it clear that striking isn't an option," I replied.

He raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that?"

"By showing them the future," I said, a fire igniting in my chest. "They think they're still playing the old game, but the board has changed. We don't need to fight them—we need to make them irrelevant."

My father studied me for a long moment, his expression inscrutable. Finally, he nodded. "You're learning."

The decision was made: we would meet with House Vreyn. But not on their terms.

---

The next evening, we rode out to the designated location—an opulent villa just outside the city, nestled among sprawling vineyards. The ride was silent, save for the steady clatter of hooves against the cobblestone road.

As we approached, the gates swung open, and a retinue of Vreyn guards greeted us. Their polished armor gleamed in the torchlight, but their expressions betrayed their unease. They were expecting my father to come alone, but I had insisted on joining him.

Inside, Lord Taerion Vreyn awaited us, flanked by two of his sons. Taerion was an imposing figure, his silver hair neatly tied back, his piercing blue eyes watching our every move. He rose as we entered, a thin smile on his lips.

"Lord Vaedryn," he said, inclining his head. "And young Viston. A pleasure to see you both."

"The pleasure is ours," my father replied, his tone smooth but devoid of warmth.

We took our seats across from Taerion, the tension in the room palpable. Servants brought wine, but no one touched it. This wasn't a meeting for pleasantries.

"I'll get straight to the point," Taerion said, folding his hands on the table. "The temple's summons has caused... unrest among the council. Questions are being asked. Concerns are being raised."

"Questions and concerns are the council's favorite pastime," my father said dryly. "I fail to see how this is relevant to us."

Taerion's smile tightened. "The temple's independence has always been a delicate matter. Their actions, intentional or not, can shift the balance of power in Valyria. A summons like this—directed at the Veldora—could be seen as a declaration."

"And what do you see it as?" I asked, leaning forward.

Taerion's eyes flicked to me, his smile faltering. "An opportunity," he said carefully. "For collaboration. The western territories are crucial to Valyria's stability. If the Veldora and the Vreyns were to... align, it would send a powerful message to the rest of the council."

I let his words hang in the air for a moment before responding. "Alignment isn't built on empty words, Lord Taerion. It's built on trust, on mutual benefit. What, exactly, are you offering?"

Taerion hesitated, glancing at his sons before replying. "Support. Influence. Together, we could ensure that the temple's actions remain... neutral."

"Neutrality is weakness," I said sharply. "The future of Valyria won't be decided by those who cling to the past. If you want an alliance, you'll need to prove that you're ready to move forward—not hold us back."

Taerion's expression darkened, but he said nothing. My father, ever the diplomat, stepped in.

"Lord Taerion," he said, his tone measured. "My son speaks with passion, but passion alone isn't enough. If you wish to discuss terms, we're willing to listen. But understand this: the Veldora do not make decisions lightly. Nor do we accept half-measures."

Taerion's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "Very well. I will send word when I have more to offer."

The meeting ended soon after, tension crackling in the air like an approaching storm. As we rode back to the estate, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The seeds of doubt had been planted, the first steps toward rendering House Vreyn irrelevant already in motion.

But this was just the beginning. The future of Valyria would not be built on alliances alone. It would be forged in fire, shaped by power and ambition.

And I intended to be the one holding the flame, I will not settle for anything less.

---

The ride back to the estate was silent, save for the rhythmic clatter of hooves on stone. My father rode ahead, his posture as rigid as the black armor he wore, while I followed a few paces behind, replaying the meeting with Taerion in my mind. It had gone as expected—half-truths and veiled threats, the usual fare in Valyrian politics—but something about the evening left a bitter taste in my mouth.

Taerion was too eager, too desperate. He wasn't just testing the waters—he was drowning in them. Whatever plans House Vreyn had in motion, they were unraveling, and they wanted us to hold the strings together.

The question wasn't why they wanted our help. It was what they were hiding.

As we approached the estate gates, the familiar sight of the Veldora banners fluttering in the wind greeted us. The sigil of our house—a great purple dragon encircled by runic flames—seemed to glow faintly in the moonlight, a reminder of the legacy we carried.

The guards saluted as we passed, their faces stoic but watchful. Inside, the estate was alive with activity. Servants bustled about with trays of wine and platters of food, while courtiers lingered in the halls, exchanging whispers and glances. The temple's summons had stirred not only the council but our household as well.

As we dismounted, my father turned to me, his expression unreadable.

"Walk with me, Viston," he said, his voice calm but firm.

I followed him through the winding halls, the soft echo of our footsteps the only sound. He led me to the solar, a private room adorned with maps, books, and artifacts from our family's storied history. A single fireplace crackled in the corner, casting long shadows across the room.

He gestured for me to sit, but he remained standing, pacing slowly in front of the hearth.

"Taerion is grasping at straws," he said finally, breaking the silence. "House Vreyn's position is weaker than they let on. They wouldn't risk a private meeting unless they had no other choice."

I nodded. "He's afraid. The temple's summons has unsettled them, and they're trying to gauge our position. They want us to think we need them, but it's the other way around."

"Correct," my father said, his pacing slowing. "But fear can make even the most cunning man dangerous. Taerion may seem desperate, but desperation breeds recklessness. We must tread carefully."

I leaned forward, my hands clasped. "What do you think they're hiding?"

He stopped pacing, his gaze meeting mine. "Something significant. Perhaps their resources are stretched thinner than we realize, or perhaps their alliances are crumbling. Either way, it's an advantage we can exploit."

I considered his words, the pieces of the puzzle slowly coming together. But there was another question burning in my mind, one I hadn't dared to ask before.

"Father," I said hesitantly, "the temple. Do you think their summons is truly about neutrality? Or is it something more?"

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the flames. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost a whisper.

"The temple's independence is a facade," he said. "They answer to a power greater than the council, greater than any house. They see themselves as the keepers of balance, the guardians of Valyria's soul. But even guardians can be swayed."

I frowned. "Swayed how?"

"Through purpose," he said, turning to face me. "The temple operates on tradition and duty, but they are not immune to ambition. If we can show them that aligning with us serves a higher purpose—a future for Valyria beyond the chaos of the present—they may be persuaded to stand with us."

It was a bold strategy, one that relied as much on timing as it did on conviction. But it was also the only way forward.

"And if they refuse?" I asked.

His expression darkened. "Then we will find another way. The temple's strength is formidable, but it is not absolute. No force is."

The weight of his words settled over me, the enormity of the task ahead sinking in. The temple was more than just an ally or an obstacle—it was a keystone, a pillar upon which the future of Valyria might stand or fall.

As I rose to leave, my father placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip firm but reassuring.

"Viston," he said, his tone softer now, "this is your time. The temple will not be swayed by my generation. They will look to you, to the fire you bring. Do not let them see doubt."

I met his gaze, the firelight dancing in his eyes. "I won't."

The path ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: the temple would decide much of what was to come. And I intended to ensure that decision was made in our favor.

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Word count 2665

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