Time slipped by, and decades passed in the blink of an eye.
In those long, peaceful years, Lo Quen's queens and lovers gave birth to many children. These princes and princesses, with Dragonblood in their veins, all left for their own fiefdoms once they came of age, inheriting the vast realms Lo Quen had carved out for them.
Each child who departed was given a dragon egg, laid by mother-dragons like Duskshadow and Silverfall, a companion and a symbol of power.
But Lo Quen's progeny were simply too many, more than a hundred over the course of a few decades. The Known world had only so much land to grant.
So many of the more adventurous princes and princesses turned their eyes to the far southern continents.
Sothoryos and Ulthos.
The primeval jungles and endless expanses there, and the deadly plague that once stopped explorers cold, had already been swept away by Lo Quen with casual ease years ago.
Now those lands had become a new promised frontier, drawing large waves of migration and settlement, mainly from Yi Ti and Valyrian peoples.
That tide didn't only roll south. It had already reshaped Westeros itself.
After the War of the Seven Kingdoms ended, countless hardworking Yi Ti crossed the sea westward and put down roots. In Westeros now, especially in the Great Five Towns, Yi Ti made up the majority.
In Oldtown, more than ninety percent of the residents were of Yi Ti descent. In the Reach, where Highgarden stood, over half the people were Yi Ti as well.
The Great Lord of the Reach and the Lord of Oldtown, those two bastard brothers of Lo Quen, never hid their pride in their Yi Ti blood. With their encouragement and policies, the Yi Ti population in the Reach, the Crownlands, and the Riverlands surged explosively, becoming a dominant people no one could ignore.
By contrast, the Lysenes, who were also encouraged to migrate, preferred comfort and luxury. Their numbers never reached even one-tenth of the Yi Ti influx.
That same imbalance showed up in the realms ruled by Lo Quen's descendants.
Conquest Keep and the Triarchy, held by the children of Janice, thrived. Yi Ti diligence made them rich.
The Valyrian Kingdom, ruled by the children of Jaelena, had it harder. Though it was still largely Yi Ti, most immigrants preferred the fertile lands of the Triarchy and the Seven Kingdoms, leaving Valyria more a magnet for merchants than settlers.
To keep peace and coordination among the many kingdoms tied together by his blood, Lo Quen established an Imperial Council at the Jade Gates, where the sea routes between east and west converged.
The rulers of each realm met there regularly, projecting their images through specially crafted Dragonglass candles to discuss affairs.
As for Lo Quen himself, he was more than happy to shrug off mundane burdens and truly enjoy a life as unhurried as a god's, becoming a "hands-off ruler" in earnest.
On this day, the sunlight was warm and the sea breeze gentle.
On a private island estate south of the Valyria Peninsula, it felt as though time itself had slowed.
Lo Quen lounged on a cushioned daybed in the garden. He looked no different than he had when he founded the Great Empire of the Dawn decades earlier, still young, still striking.
Only his eyes had changed. In their depth lay stars that time could never wear away.
Under the shelter of his magic, his queens, and even the noble ladies who later bore him children, all possessed eternal youth and life. Their smiles were still bright; time had only added composure and tenderness to their gaze.
Not far from the garden stretched a broad lawn reserved for dragons alone.
The hatchlings of old had grown into sky-swallowing giants.
Foremost among them was, of course, Blooddancer, over three hundred feet long, its crimson scales gleaming in the sun like molten lava, majestic beyond words.
Beside it stood the upstart that had caught up in size, Ashshadow, a black dragon as massive as Blooddancer.
Silverfall, Duskshadow, Greysmoke, Seaheart, and the others wheeled and played around them, sometimes loosing thunderous roars, sometimes chasing one another high through the clouds.
The ladies watched the colossal creatures, as familiar as family, roughhousing together, warm and knowing smiles spreading across their faces.
Lo Quen was chatting idly with the Queens in the garden, savoring this eternal calm.
Suddenly, he frowned slightly and looked up at the endless blue sky.
His perception pierced the shell of the material universe, catching strange ripples coming from far beyond the void.
"What is it?"
Ever attentive, Daenerys noticed his momentary distraction and asked softly.
Lo Quen withdrew his gaze and gave her a reassuring smile. "Nothing. Just something interesting stirring beyond the universe. I'll go take a look and be right back."
Before the words had fully settled, he stepped forward. His figure blurred in the courtyard, and in the next instant, he appeared beyond the planet's orbit.
Starlight converged, and the immense true form of the Starforger Dragon emerged, laws and power flowing through it, deeper and more profound than decades before.
[Stellar Brightstream]!
The dragon body became a streak of light cutting across the starry sea, reaching the edge of this universe in an instant.
Here was a chaotic void. The universe's membrane trembled like a thin, living barrier, separating the splendor within from the unknown beyond.
And just outside that membrane, Lo Quen saw the source of the call.
An unimaginably vast blue radiance.
Its sheer scale nearly matched that of his own Starforged Dragon form.
The outline of that light was unmistakable. A colossal dragon.
It was formed of countless flickering stars, rotating nebulae, and brilliant star clusters, as if an entire universe had been compressed into its shape.
Upon its head rested a crown that glowed with soft yet imposing white light.
Starforged Dragonlord, Aurelian Sol!
Lo Quen felt a jolt of recognition. This was an ancient existence whose power shared the same origin as his own, yet came from another universe entirely.
As Lo Quen observed him, Aurelian Sol's voice resonated, deep and heavy, as though forged from the harmony of countless stars. It pierced the cosmic membrane and echoed directly within Lo Quen's mind.
"Great Starforged Dragon kin… I sense the vast aura of your dominion over this universe… May I ask your name?"
The voice carried exhaustion, but beneath it lingered ancient authority.
Lo Quen could feel no hostility from him, only urgency born of deep distress.
He replied calmly, his voice likewise crossing the barrier of the universe. "My name is Lo Quen."
"Lo Quen… great kin!"
Aurelian Sol's voice turned eager. "I sense your strength and your freedom! I beg you, could you come to my universe and help free me? I am imprisoned by the cunning Star Spirits of Runeterra. My power has been stolen and bound by them…"
His words suddenly cut off, as if he had just realized something. With deep confusion, he asked,
"Wait. Why is your name so strange? Could it be… are you from Ionia?!"
Lo Quen looked at the Starforged Dragonlord before him, desperate and grasping at anything, even carrying a hint of naive earnestness. He couldn't help but laugh and replied,
"I am indeed from the Ionia you mentioned. I'm even Bronze in League One."
…
The book ends here.