Gadriel walked alone through the crumbling ruins, the pale light of day slipping through rents in the blackened stone. Shadows stretched long across the cracked roadways of ancient Valyria, and the air hung thick with a scent of ash and salt. He drew his hood low, muttering a soft word under his breath. A veil of shadow enveloped him — Embrace of Shadows.
The world dimmed. His form wavered and vanished from mortal sight.
He moved carefully among the broken pillars and half-sunken streets, his eyes tracing the artistry that still clung to these ruins.
"I do wonder what happened to this place," he murmured softly, his voice half-lost in the still air. "Time claims all things… but this—"
He stopped before a collapsed tower, its base melted as if from dragonfire or worse. The stones glimmered faintly in places, warped by unnatural heat.
"—this was more than time's doing."
He passed an ancient fountain long dry, its marble basin now filled with fine dust. Strange symbols, Valyrian perhaps, were carved deep into its rim — words that even he could only half-guess at. He traced the runes lightly with his gloved hand, sketching them into his worn journal with the care of a scholar preserving a dying memory.
"The architecture here must have been magnificent once," he said quietly, sketching the outline of a fallen colossus. "But now… only ghosts remain."
A faint grin tugged at his mouth, touched with melancholy.
"What a disappointment."
He sighed, closing the book. "Well, let's move on."
Hours passed as he explored — silent steps through endless echoes. He moved from one ruin to the next, past collapsed amphitheaters, shattered bridges, and great walls that had been fused into glass. He examined strange veins of black stone that pulsed faintly under his hand, remnants perhaps of magical conduits long dead.
Despite the desolation, his curiosity burned bright. Every ruin holds a story, he thought, and even in death, this place speaks.
But as the sun began to lower, a quiet realization settled over him.
"This has been fascinating," he muttered, "but I can only learn so much from bones and rubble. To uncover the rest, I'd have to stay here for years… and that would take all the fun out of it."
A dry chuckle escaped him, carried by the wind.
"No. Enough for today."
He turned back, retracing his steps through the ancient streets with the ease of one used to wandering lost places. By the time the last light of day slipped below the horizon, he reached his camp. The skeletons still stood in their posts, motionless sentinels, their empty sockets glowing faintly in the dimness.
Kaelan was near the fire, his metal body glinting with orange reflection. He was moving slowly, testing the strength in his new limbs — each step deliberate, each motion uncertain but improving.
Gadriel approached, and Kaelan turned in surprise. "You've returned sooner than I expected."
"Sooner?" Gadriel smiled faintly. "I'd say the day's nearly gone. You've been adjusting, I see."
Kaelan nodded, the motion smooth but slightly mechanical. "It's strange, my lord. I feel power coursing through me, yet I can't feel warmth or hunger. It's like existing without truly living."
"That's… not far from the truth," Gadriel said, not unkindly. "But you'll grow used to it. For now, rest— or whatever passes for rest in your case. I'm going to turn in."
Kaelan inclined his head. "Understood."
"And under no circumstances am I to be disturbed," Gadriel added, his tone firm but calm. "No matter what happens. Clear?"
"Yes, Gadriel," Kaelan said obediently.
Satisfied, Gadriel stepped into his tent. His bedroll lay where he'd left it, untouched. The night beyond was quiet, save for the faint hiss of wind through stone. He laid down, feeling the day's fatigue settle deep into his bones, and closed his eyes.
The world faded.
And then—
The air grew heavy. Time itself slowed… then stopped. The crackle of the fire outside froze mid-dance. Gadriel's eyes snapped open, glowing with deep, ethereal light. His breath left him in a silent exhale as his soul peeled away from his mortal form.
The tent dissolved around him. His spirit expanded outward, unfurling like a storm across the ruins. His essence twisted, reshaping — scales of storm-black iron spread across his form, and his wings unfolded with a sound like distant thunder.
He had taken his true shape. The Dragon within.
Half of Valyria could have been dwarfed beneath his body, his blood-red eyes cutting through the still, frozen world. The jagged white claws at the tips of his wings gleamed like shards of bone in moonlight.
He let out a slow, rumbling sigh that rolled across the silent landscape.
"By the Divines…" he groaned, flexing his claws. "This always takes more out of me than I'd like."
A moment later, he shook off the exhaustion. "Alright then… let's see what really happened here."
The world shimmered around him — frozen air turning to liquid light. Buildings reassembled, streets rebuilt themselves, and the sky bled into dawn. Gadriel stood amidst the Valyria that once was.
He watched its rise unfold like a dream.
Great halls of marble and obsidian towered above seas of flame. Scholars, mages, and smiths worked side by side — their magic flowing through conduits, weaving bridges of glass, towers of living stone.
Decades passed in a blink. The city grew vast and beautiful — the envy of the known world. A beacon for knowledge, art, and sorcery.
But then… it changed.
He saw arrogance take root. Scholars grew careless, their pursuits wild and unbound. Experiments deep beneath the city turned darker, bloodier. They sought mastery over life and death, over gods themselves.
And then — chaos.
A surge of power tore through their labs. Gadriel watched as something unseen spread through the air like black fire. People screamed, their skin twisting, cracking, turning grey and scaly as madness took them. Their eyes went white, their minds lost. The plague consumed them — all of them.
Valyria fell in a single, unending nightmare.
Gadriel stood still, wings folded, watching the fall of the once-great city with quiet sorrow.
"So that's it," he whispered. "Not fire, nor wrath of gods… just man's own folly.
He looked down at the city below — now empty once more.
"No wonder they send the stone men here," he murmured. "They remember something they do not understand. A warning lost to time."
The light began to fade. The ruins returned to ash and silence.
He sighed softly, weary but calm, as his spirit began to draw back into his mortal shell. "At least now I know. Valyria's heart still beats — just buried under its own pride."
The last thing he saw before his vision darkened was the glimmer of molten light in the distance — a reminder that the city still dreamed beneath the ash.
And then the Dragon closed his eyes.Time resumed.The campfire flickered.And Gadriel Dovahkiin slept on.