The morning sun had barely crested the mountain peaks when a raven descended upon the Eyrie, bearing a scroll sealed with the royal sigil of House Targaryen. The castle's chill did little to cool the unease that immediately swept through the halls.
In the solar, Lord Rodrik Arryn unrolled the parchment, eyes scanning the royal decree.
> "His Grace, King Viserys I Targaryen, invites Lord Rodrik Arryn of the Vale to King's Landing to attend the occasion of the Queen's impending childbirth..."
Rodrik exhaled slowly. Across from him, Yobert leaned back, brows furrowed.
> "An invitation from the King himself. That's rare... and worrying."
Rodrik nodded, tapping the scroll thoughtfully against the desk.
> "The timing is curious. But it's a chance. And chances like this don't come often."
Yobert wasn't convinced.
> "It's King's Landing, Rodrik. A nest of snakes and backroom deals. You're walking into a den of men twice your age, most of whom wouldn't mind seeing you fall flat."
> "And yet," Rodrik smiled wryly, "they'll be forced to smile and offer me wine."
Yobert sighed, shaking his head.
> "So we delay the mountain campaign?"
> "Yes," Rodrik replied. "Just until I return. We can't risk provoking any attention while I'm away. But this trip could be... beneficial."
Yobert narrowed his eyes.
> "You mean the ash?"
Rodrik nodded.
> "Volcanic ash from Dragonstone is vital for the cement formula. I've run the tests. If I can close that deal with Prince Daemon himself, it'll cut months from our supply logistics."
> "And what's this I hear about you wanting to discuss a trade city... in the Riverlands?" Yobert asked warily.
Rodrik stood, pacing slowly.
> "It's time we thought bigger, Yobert. The Vale has wealth. Soon, we'll have stability. But to control trade in the Seven Kingdoms, we need geography—and Riverlands sits at the center."
Yobert's voice sharpened.
> "That's not our land. In times of war, it won't be defensible. You'll be building a trade artery in someone else's chest."
As they stood in the solar, speaking of Riverlands, Rodrik turned to him with a half-smile that carried the weight of years of secrecy.
> "Yobert… come with me. There's something I've been working on. You need to see it before we speak another word about trade cities."
Yobert had long suspected that Rodrik was hiding something from him—not out of malice or mistrust, but with that same boyish intensity that made him chase wild ideas without asking for permission. Over the last few years, he had noticed the odd movements: scholars from the University disappearing for weeks, blacksmiths working through the night with odd materials, foreign engineers from Essos being given room in the High Tower of Eyrie's eastern wing—men who spoke in hushed tones about pressure, pistons, and "draft flow."
Rodrik never explained. And Yobert never pressed—until now.
Yobert raised an eyebrow.
> "Is this the project you've been running behind my back for six years?"
Rodrik just smiled again and beckoned him out. Moments later, they were galloping across the narrow ridges of the Vale, cutting through winding paths known only to the Arryn bloodline. The air grew crisper, quieter. They rode for nearly two hours, beyond the known estates of the Eyrie, until they reached a heavily forested valley walled in by jagged cliffs.
There, hidden beneath the mountain shadow, a wide tunnel had been carved into the stone. Smoke drifted from a series of tall chimneys poking out the hillside, and strange metallic sounds echoed in the distance—hammers, steam valves, grinding gears.
As they dismounted, a heavy iron gate opened, and a dozen men in coveralls stood to attention.
Yobert's eyes widened as they stepped inside the massive tunnel—no, workshop—and he saw it.
A beast of steel and brass, nearly forty feet long, rested atop two shining rails. Its rounded body gleamed with fresh polish, and thick iron wheels connected to a complex assembly of cranks and rods.
> "What… in the name of the Seven… is this?"
Rodrik grinned like a child revealing a forbidden toy.
> "It's called a locomotive. Or train. It runs on steam pressure, built by burning fuel. This… is the prototype."
He placed a hand proudly on the side of the engine.
> "This machine can carry the goods of a thousand carts. It can move people across entire kingdoms in days instead of weeks. And it doesn't tire, it doesn't rest. Just fuel, water, and rails."
Yobert stepped closer, running his fingers over the warm metal.
> "You built this… in secret. All these years…"
> "With the help of Essosi metallurgists, exiled inventors, and the brightest minds from our university," Rodrik confirmed. "It took time. Mistakes. But she runs now."
Rodrik gestured, and the engineers climbed aboard, steam hissing from the valves as fire was stoked within the furnace. The beast growled to life, and the rail beneath it thrummed with kinetic power.
Rodrik helped Yobert climb onto the front carriage. The seats were leather-bound, the controls rudimentary but elegantly laid out. With a loud whistle, the train began to move.
The short track extended only a mile into the mountainside and ended in a closed loop, but for Yobert, the sensation was surreal. The wind roared past the open windows, the rhythmic churning of the engine thrummed beneath his feet, and the motion—smooth, unstoppable—felt like flying on the ground.
By the time the train rolled to a halt and the steam hissed its final breath, Yobert sat motionless, heart still racing.
> "This… changes everything."
Rodrik helped him down and nodded solemnly.
> "Exactly. This is why we must secure a hub in the Riverlands. It's the geographic heart of the Seven Kingdoms. Once the rail network spreads—and it will—that city becomes the nerve center for all land-based trade."
> "But to build this… everywhere?" Yobert said, dazed. "The cost… the labor…"
> "We'll do it piece by piece. One line at a time. We'll use it first for cargo—heavy shipments of steel, grain, timber. Let the nobles see how much profit they can make just by connecting their lands to the rails. The rest will follow like moths to fire."
Yobert stared back at the train, still marveling.
> "You're creating a new world, Rodrik."
Rodrik looked up at the mountain sky, mist clinging to his brow.
> "No. I'm just laying down the tracks. The future's going to ride them—whether we're ready or not."
As they mounted their horses for the return journey to Eyrie, Yobert remained quiet. But for the first time in years, he wasn't worried about Rodrik's ambition. He was worried the world might not be ready for it.