Chapter 15: The Dragon Host and the Keys to Eternity's Archive
Lord Maelys Vaerion, his current flesh now bearing the heavy mark of nearly eighty winters, stood upon the precipice of his eighteenth soul harvest. His vessel was failing, the potent life force of the seventeen essences he had consumed battling against the inexorable decay of mortal coils. Yet, within this frail shell, Valerius's ancient consciousness burned brighter and colder than any Valyrian forge, his mind a fathomless ocean of accumulated knowledge and power, patiently awaiting its next, most promising, incarnation.
For decades, his son Valarr had been the designated heir, the meticulously groomed vessel. Valarr, now a man in his own prime – a powerful sorcerer, Lord Commander of the Vaerion forces, and a respected figure in the Freehold – was, by all measures, a perfect successor. However, Valerius's gaze had, with increasing frequency, settled upon Valarr's own son, Aegon Vaerion.
Aegon was now a young man of twenty-two, and he was extraordinary. The direct infusion of Sylvaen blood, combined with generations of Valerius's Sanguine Harmonic sculpting of the Vaerion line, had produced a specimen of breathtaking potential. Aegon possessed not only formidable innate magical strength and a keen intellect but also an unbreakable bond with Veridian, his magnificent bronze-green dragon, now a fully grown beast whose power echoed the deepest telluric energies of the Vaerion mountains and the ancient Sylvaen forests. Veridian was more than a mount; he was an extension of Aegon's soul, a living conduit to primal magic. To reincarnate into Aegon meant to gain not just a youthful, powerful body, but direct, intrinsic access to a true dragon's might. This was an opportunity Valerius could not ignore.
The decision to bypass Valarr was a cold, pragmatic calculation. Valarr was excellent, but Aegon was transcendent. To Valerius, who had sacrificed countless lives and manipulated generations, the emotional cost to Valarr – who had dedicated his life to fulfilling his father's expectations, unaware of the ultimate price – was a negligible factor. Valarr would continue to serve House Vaerion, eventually serving his own son, who would, in turn, be Valerius. The irony was a subtle spice to Valerius's ancient palate.
In his final years, Maelys subtly shifted the focus of his most esoteric teachings towards Aegon, under the guise of a grandfather imparting hidden family lore to a uniquely gifted heir. He pushed Aegon's understanding of soul mechanics, of blood resonance, and of the deep connection between dragon, rider, and the planetary heart. He didn't need to groom Aegon for devotion in the same way he had his direct heirs; Aegon's soul, young and vibrant, would be consumed utterly. What he needed was to ensure Aegon's mind and spirit were capable of withstanding the initial shock of his immense consciousness, and that the dragon bond would not react erratically to the change in its rider's core essence.
Elaena, the wise seer who had witnessed so much of Valerius's horrifying cycle, had passed into the mists of memory two decades prior, her life unnaturally long even for a Valyrian noblewoman, perhaps sustained by the potent ambient magic of House Vaerion or her own quiet will. Her line of seers continued within the family, sharp-eyed women who advised the Lords Vaerion, their divinations sometimes uncomfortably perceptive. Valerius often wondered if Elaena had passed down any explicit warning, any fragment of her terrifying suspicion. If so, her descendants kept it a closely guarded secret.
The end for Maelys Vaerion was orchestrated with his usual precision. Having set all House affairs in impeccable order, and sensing Aegon's readiness – the young man having just returned from a triumphant solo expedition mapping previously unknown geothermal vents in the northernmost peaks of the Fourteen Flames, a mission designed by Maelys to test his resilience and magical stamina – Valerius decided the time was ripe. He allowed his vital energies to wane, a controlled descent into mortality.
Valarr, Lyraenys his Sylvaen wife, Aegon, and Aegon's younger siblings gathered by Maelys's grand bedside. The old lord's eyes, ancient and luminous, found Aegon's.
"Aegon, my grandson," Maelys whispered, his voice a dry rasp. "You are the culmination of generations. The fire of the mountain, the heart of the forest, the blood of dragons… they converge in you. Carry our legacy to heights undreamt." He raised a trembling hand, a gesture Aegon instinctively understood from their private tutelage. Aegon knelt, taking the offered hand.
"I will, Grandfather," Aegon vowed, his young face earnest, unaware of the true meaning of the covenant he was making.
With a final, almost imperceptible exhalation, Maelys Vaerion's body stilled. Instantly, Valerius's soul – a searing, multi-faceted sun of pure consciousness and unimaginable power – surged from the lifeless husk. It crossed the chamber in a blink, a torrent of ancient will, and plunged into Aegon.
The impact was colossal. Aegon's body convulsed, a choked cry escaping his lips as his own potent, youthful soul reeled from the psychic cataclysm. Veridian, Aegon's dragon, who had been slumbering in the vast outer courtyard connected to the chambers, let out a deafening roar of alarm and confusion, his amber eyes blazing, sensing the violent spiritual intrusion upon his bonded rider. The very stones of the Vaerion stronghold seemed to tremble.
Valerius met Aegon's resisting spirit not with brute force alone, but with an intricate, almost seductive envelopment, a thousand lifetimes of experience in soul manipulation allowing him to unweave Aegon's consciousness even as he consumed it. He felt Aegon's fierce spirit, his bond with Veridian, his hopes, his fears – all dissolving into the immensity of his own being, adding new textures, new strengths. The absorption of this dragon-bonded soul, so young and vibrant, was an ecstasy of power, a significant amplification even for Valerius.
Then came the dragon. Through the dissolving remnants of Aegon's consciousness, Valerius reached out to Veridian's mind, not as an invader, but as the true, ancient core of the rider Veridian had always sensed beneath Aegon's youth. He projected reassurance, power, and an unbreakable continuation of the bond. Veridian's agitated roars subsided into a low, questioning rumble. The dragon sensed the change, the vast increase in power and ancientness, but the fundamental connection, the Vaerion-Sylvaen blood resonance, remained, now magnified a thousandfold. The bond reasserted itself, stronger, deeper than before.
Valerius opened his new eyes – Aegon's vibrant violet eyes, now blazing with an almost unbearable inner light. He was Lord Aegon Vaerion. He felt the surging youth of this powerful body, the seamless connection to Veridian, the dragon's immense strength and fiery heart now directly accessible to his will. This was, by far, his most potent incarnation yet.
Valarr, his face a mask of grief for his father Maelys and shock at his son's violent reaction, rushed to Aegon's side. "Aegon! What is it? Are you harmed?"
Valerius looked at Valarr – his son from his previous life, now his father in this one. He offered a reassuring smile, Aegon's smile, but now infused with an ancient, imperturbable calm.
"The transition… Grandfather's spirit… it was a powerful farewell," Valerius said, his voice now Aegon's youthful tenor, yet resonating with an authority that made Valarr instinctively draw back. "But I am well, Father. Stronger, even. His blessing settles upon me."
Lyraenys watched her son with wide, troubled eyes, her Sylvaen senses perhaps picking up on the profound shift more keenly than Valarr. She saw her son, yet he was… more. Intimidatingly so.
In the weeks that followed, Lord Aegon Vaerion's ascension was swift and absolute. Valarr, despite his own power and experience, found himself deferring to his son's inexplicable wisdom and decisive command. Aegon moved with the confidence of millennia, his pronouncements on matters of state, magic, and military strategy displaying a terrifying depth of understanding that belied his twenty-two years. Veridian was his constant companion, an extension of his will, their combined presence an awe-inspiring symbol of Vaerion power.
The true strategic coup, however, came shortly after Maelys's funeral rites. It was a plan Maelys (Valerius) had set in motion years prior, contingent upon House Vaerion achieving a certain level of undeniable prestige and power – a level now firmly secured by Aegon's dragon bond and the House's formidable resources.
For centuries, the collective knowledge of the Forty Families – their most sacred texts, their deepest magical secrets, their detailed histories and genealogies – had been hoarded within their private libraries or, in some cases, within a highly restricted, magically guarded central archive in Valyria known as the Scaeptos Anima, the Archive of Ages. Access was the privilege of only the most ancient and powerful Archon families.
House Vaerion, through Maelys's long cultivation of influence, his strategic services to the Freehold (such as the neutralization of House Volantenos's rogue weather magic and his contributions to geothermal energy distribution), and now cemented by the undeniable prestige of Aegon's Sylvaen dragon bond, had maneuvered itself into a position to request – or rather, compellingly negotiate for – probationary access. The final leverage had been a crisis: a magical plague affecting several minor dragon lines, which only Vaerion blood-alchemy and Ignis Chalybs techniques (developed by Valerius over centuries) could effectively counter. In return for sharing a sanitized, limited version of this cure, and pledging Vaerion resources to certain Freehold infrastructure projects, Lord Aegon Vaerion (acting with wisdom far beyond his apparent years) secured what many thought impossible: conditional access for himself and his designated scholars to the outer sanctums of the Scaeptos Anima, and reciprocal visiting scholar rights with several influential, if reclusive, ancient families amongst the Forty.
This was a triumph beyond measure for Valerius. For millennia, he had painstakingly accumulated knowledge, but access to the deepest, most guarded secrets of Valyria's greatest houses had been largely denied him. Now, the keys to eternity's archive were within his grasp.
Standing in Aegon's youthful, dragon-bonded body, with Veridian's powerful presence at his back, Valerius felt a thrill that even his ancient soul rarely experienced. The libraries of the Forty Families held secrets of dragon-lore, blood magic, soul-binding, cosmology, and perhaps even an understanding of the very forces that would one day cause the Doom – knowledge that could accelerate his path to godhood and refine his plans for surviving Valyria's fall.
His current incarnation as Aegon Vaerion, Dragonlord and scholar-initiate of the Great Archives, was perfectly positioned. He would devour this new knowledge as he had devoured souls, integrating it into his vast intellect. He would use it to further enhance his bloodline, to refine his magic, and to prepare for the cataclysm that still lay three millennia in his future.
Valyria, in its dazzling, arrogant splendor, believed itself eternal. But Valerius knew better. He was the patient serpent, shedding skin after skin, growing ever more powerful, coiling himself around the very roots of the Freehold, preparing for the day when its inevitable collapse would become the foundation of his own apotheosis. The game had entered a new, exhilarating phase.