The Eastern Spires of Valyria – Twelve Days Before the Doom
The wind howled through the obsidian towers of the eastern city-spire, whispering through the bones of long-dead dragons and ancient sorcerers. A sky split between crimson clouds and sulfurous blackness loomed overhead. In the distance, the rumble of the Fourteen Flames echoed beneath the world's surface—restless, angry.
Kaelarys stood on the balcony of a broken watchtower, gazing at the caldera of Mount Balerion. His dragons circled overhead in slow, deliberate arcs. Five shadows against the storm-light. Each day they grew stronger—Kaezion now the size of a warhorse, the others not far behind.
Behind him, Lyanna approached with silent steps.
"The last of the shadow-forged steel has arrived," she said, her voice taut. "The smiths await your instructions."
"Good," Kaelarys replied. "We begin tonight. I want each of the officers armed with Valyrian-forged blades—no less. When the Doom comes, steel and fire won't be enough. We'll need will, and power."
He turned, eyes gleaming with unnatural light.
"And fear. I will make them fear me."
System Notification: Custom Equipment Crafting UnlockedTrait: Master of Arms + Valyrian Forging Protocol
Allows forging of custom weapons with bound enchantments
Materials Available: Shadow-Steel, Wyvern Bone, Obsidian Core, Dragonbone Hilts
Crafted Weapon Slots: 1/10
Current Objective: Forge 7 Commander Blades
Reward: Officer Combat Boost +20%, Loyalty Increase, Unlock: "Warlord's Armory"
Kaelarys descended into the forge chambers of the eastern estate. There, the forgemaster—an enslaved Qarthi enchanter with half a face—knelt beside an anvil made from sky-iron, ready to obey. Varyn stood waiting, sleeves rolled up, prepared to assist in embedding the magical sequences.
Kaelarys selected the first weapon design: a curved greatsword for Varyn, infused with lightning-binding runes. Then a thin longsword for Lyanna, light and swift, with poison-rune etching. Then five more—each forged for his officers: brutal, black blades meant for dragonriders, monster-hunters, and world-breakers.
For hours, they worked.
Steel screamed against stone. Magic flared with each strike. The forge glowed brighter than a star.
By the end of the night, seven weapons lay in a velvet-lined chest, humming with restrained power.
System Update: Officer Blades Completed (7/7)New Unit Status: Elite Companions (Named Officers)
Varyn the Flame-Clad
Lyanna of the Veil
Captain Korrak, Storm-Lancer
Mira the Chainmaiden
Ashur the Beastbreaker
Torga of the Iron Tongue
Draxyn the Black-CloakUnit Trait: Bound by Fire and Blade
Kaelarys closed the chest, breathing deep of the forge smoke. His heart raced—not with fatigue, but purpose. This was not simply a rebellion. It was the forging of an empire.
Atop the cliffs the next day, Kaelarys met with his lieutenants.
All knelt before him.
"You are the first of the Flamebound," he said, voice rising like thunder. "The swords and blades I have given you are not gifts. They are chains. Chains that link your souls to my destiny."
The wind shifted. His dragons circled low, casting long shadows.
"The world we knew will die in fire. You, however, will rise with me—through flame, through blood, through conquest. You are my seven. You are my vengeance, my sword, my banner."
Each of them bowed low, blades drawn.
"To the Flamefather," Varyn declared.
"To the Wyrmking," Lyanna added.
Kaelarys raised Draezhar, its edge alight with molten glow. "We have ten days left. In ten days, Valyria dies. In ten days, we become gods."
System Update: Final Phase – Escape PlanQuest: Ashes of Empire – Phase II
Fleet Preparation: 6/7 Ships (Final ship 40% complete)
Artifacts Recovered: 8/10 (Codex of Flamebinding, Crown of Mindflame, Bloodsoul Stone, etc.)
Loyal Manpower: 93/100
Magical Stores: 78% Full
Time Remaining: 10 Days
New System Feature Unlocked: Dynasty Legacy Tree
Now Tracking:
Bloodline Influence
Magic Artifact Holdings
Territory Control (Future Use)
Wives, Children, Heirs (0 Registered)
Kaelarys dismissed the interface. It was all coming together.
Still… not fast enough.
That night, he stood atop the Nightkiss, his flagship—a sleek, enchanted vessel clad in dragonbone armor, its sails woven from the silk of shadowmoths. The harbor was quiet. Beneath the hull, the other ships waited—crewed by handpicked slaves, mercenaries, and magicians who owed him everything.
Lyanna approached, her eyes weary but defiant.
"They will come for you soon," she said. "Someone in the Council suspects. I saw it in Lord Vael's eyes today."
"Let them come," Kaelarys replied. "Let them try."
She stepped close, placing a hand on his chest. "We have ten days, Kaelarys. Ten days before fire rains from the sky."
"We don't wait ten days."
"What?"
"We leave in seven," he said. "Three days early. We spread rumors of our presence at the southern gates. We launch smoke across the central harbor. We leave through the stormbreak—northward."
"And the rest of your people?"
"They'll know the signal. The black flame above the harbor. Those who survive the stampede will meet us at sea."
He turned away, staring into the darkness.
"And Valyria will burn behind us."
Far across the city, in the Citadel of Ash, a vision stirred in the eyes of a dying oracle.
She gasped. Her mouth foamed. Her pupils turned to silver.
She saw dragons in flight. She saw towers melting. She saw a man walking through fire untouched, crowned in lightning, sword raised to the stars.
She whispered a name.
"Drāzatar…"
And then she died, flames erupting from her mouth.
End of Chapter 17