Chapter 19: The Dragon's Covenant and The Emerald Line
Time: Circa 100 AC (The aftermath of the Century of Blood)
POV: Kaelen Silvanor
The Century of Blood had finally drawn its last breath, leaving behind a world reshaped. While the Free Cities reeled from their exhaustion, and the kingdoms of Westeros cautiously eyed each other, the name of the Silvanar Empire echoed across the trading lanes, synonymous with the stability and prosperity it had consistently provided. I, Kaelen, the merchant who had become Emperor through consistent delivery and strategic diplomacy, now found my realm a beacon of order in a fractured world. The Citadel's wary overtures, though a risk, solidified our recognized presence.
It was in this era of emerging new orders that a most formidable and ancient house sought audience. Not a dwindling remnant, but a true titan from the old world, a house that had heeded my subtle warning decades ago and escaped the Doom's fury with their power largely intact: House Belaerys. They were one of the few Dragonlord families who had chosen foresight over defiance, securing their lineage, a significant portion of their wealth, and their precious dragons on a secluded island in the Summer Sea. For a century, they had governed themselves, rebuilding their strength in the shadows, watching the chaos of the Century of Blood unfold. But as the long conflict drew to a close, they recognized a new truth: even with dragons, a single house, no matter how powerful, could not stand alone against a world now coalescing into larger, more stable powers. They needed a larger framework, a secure future.
Their arrival at the designated island, a verdant and strategically vital piece of land near the Stepstones, was an awe-inspiring sight. Twelve dragons, their scales shimmering under the sun, descended from the sky, their roars echoing across the waves. They carried riders of silver hair and violet eyes, a striking presence that commanded immediate respect. This was power, raw and undeniable, a living echo of the ancient Freehold. Accompanying them were ships laden with half their ancestral wealth, a testament to their enduring might.
The head of the house who came to Ael'tharion was Lord Maekar Belaerys, a man of formidable presence, his silver hair long, his violet eyes sharp with the wisdom of generations. He was the great-grandson of the Belaerys who had first received my warning, and he carried the weight of his house's survival on his shoulders. He came not as a supplicant, but as a potential ally, seeking a unique covenant.
I received him in the grand council hall, the space designed to awe even the most jaded of visitors. Lord Maekar, for his part, studied the living architecture and the calm, ancient faces of my people with an open curiosity that bordered on fascination. He knelt, not in submission, but in deference, acknowledging the unique power of the Silvanar.
"Emperor Kaelen," he began, his voice resonant, "House Belaerys seeks not merely to endure, but to thrive. We have watched your Silvanar Empire rise, not through conquest, but through an unrivaled stability and foresight. Our house survived the Doom, and we have governed ourselves for a century, but the world has changed. The Century of Blood has shown us that even with dragons, a single flame can be extinguished. We believe a union between our houses would forge a power unlike any the world has ever known."
He rose, his gaze steady. "We offer our loyalty, our vast wealth, our ancient knowledge, and our dragons. In return, we seek a covenant of protection and shared destiny. My daughter, Vala Belaerys, is of marriageable age. We offer her to you, to become your Empress, binding our houses, our fates, and our future, to the Silvanar Empire."
This was a negotiation between equals, each offering immense power. To integrate dragonlords and their dragons into the very heart of the Silvanar Empire would accelerate my long-term goals immeasurably, providing a visible, terrifying shield for our hidden power. Vala Belaerys, when I met her, possessed the ethereal beauty common to those of Valyrian descent, with striking violet eyes and silver-gold hair. She carried herself with the poise of a true Dragonlord, her intelligence keen, her spirit unbroken.
My internal thoughts acknowledged the gravity. Vala, for all her beauty and lineage, was mortal. Her life, though perhaps long by human standards, would be but a blink compared to my own endless existence. This was a union of alliance, of power, of blood, not necessarily of forever. This was a truth understood, not by explicit discussion, but by the subtle, knowing glances Lord Maekar exchanged with me, acknowledging the vast difference in our lifespans and the potential for future unions of political necessity. This marriage would be the first, but not the last, of my formal alliances.
"There is one more crucial detail," I stated, my eyes fixed on Lord Maekar, who watched me with intense focus. "A matter of legacy. My union with your daughter will yield children unlike those of ordinary human and elven unions. Our children, born of my direct bloodline, will inherit the full essence of the Ael'athar. They will be High Elves, possessing the agelessness, the innate connection to the natural world, and the unique traits of my people. They will be the new foundation of the Silvanar ruling line."
Lord Maekar's composure, even with his powerful dragons, faltered for a moment, replaced by a profound understanding and awe. This was the true prize, the ultimate reason for seeking this alliance. This was far beyond mere political gain. This was the promise of rebirth for his bloodline, a chance to infuse their ancient Valyrian heritage with something truly immortal and powerful. He knew that when other elves—lesser kin, perhaps, or those whose blood had been diluted over millennia—took human brides, their offspring were typically "half-elves," inheriting a blend of traits, but not the full, undiluted power of my line. My lineage, however, offered something more, something pure.
"This is the greatest covenant," Lord Maekar breathed, a rare, genuine smile gracing his lips. "The ultimate fusion of power and longevity. House Belaerys accepts."
And so, the pact was sealed. Vala Belaerys would journey to Ael'tharion, a living bridge between the formidable might of ancient Valyria and the ascendant power of the Silvanar Empire. My first empress, and the first of many steps into a future where my once-hidden empire would wield undeniable influence across the known world.