Free Era 3132, Long Autumn. I'm back, all alone.
Father, Mother, along with their dragon companions, and the once vast clan, have all turned to ash and legend in the endless warfare and civil strife.
Relying on remnants of old belongings and a bewildered face, I blended into a mercenary group and returned to this homeland riddled with death and curses.
Stepping on the scorching ashes and rubble. The wind here is as hot as a furnace's breath. In the depths of the enormous lava lakes, countless skeletons of dragons and the deceased silently slumber in eternal scorching heat.
Amidst the sulfurous steam emanating from the volcano, I saw a young Silver Dragon! Its eyes were like burning amber… shining brightly, struggling in pain.
I instinctively tried to approach. However, upon seeing me, it violently recoiled, a painful and wary growl squeezing from its throat.
At that moment, it was as if I had been doused with ice water—I clearly perceived that the curse, deeply ingrained in my bones, was not only gnawing at me but also entwining it!
There was some fatal connection between us! If I were to ride it, the curse would surely erupt, annihilating us both in an instant. The curse… the omnipresent curse! Death had long since integrated into every grain of dust in this land…
Ramon suddenly looked up, his astonished gaze piercing like a physical force towards the volcano outside the cave.
"The curse… the Silver Dragon… could it be?" He recalled the silver giant beast, struggling in pain, that he had fed fragments of Light Stone to in the volcano not long ago! Could it be the very dragon that Raith encountered back then?
He didn't dwell on it, continuing to flip through the diary that carried too much information about destruction. The pages were fragile before time, emitting faint cracking sounds, as if they could turn to dust in his hands at any moment.
But I never gave up.
I expended a large amount of magic power to open up this cave suitable for human habitation. And I constructed this protective magic array, setting up a bloodline restriction, so that only the pure Dragon King bloodline could perceive the entrance to this place.
These bookshelves hold some of my Baelerys family's magical knowledge, as well as the remnants of other families' legacies that I salvaged from the boundless ruins. The parchment on the stone table is the result of my decades of research into the curse. There's also the sealing magic I created to combat the curse…
Magic, only stronger magic can dismantle the curse!
Based on fragmented clues from various ancient scrolls and repeated verification, perhaps only the Rhoynar's water magic can resolve the curse upon us.
This curse… originated from countless desperate and mad slaves. They sacrificed their flesh and souls, igniting this all-consuming flame of vengeance with the most primitive and cruel fire and blood magic!
They were victims, and also twisted executors. And… that life-sustaining Rhoyne River… also returned to us a heavy shackle…
That Silver Dragon is still struggling to survive by the lava lake; I can clearly hear its heart-wrenching roars every day and night, feeling the bone-deep burning pain as if it's replaying on my own body… I have no choice!
I can only use the power of the seal to temporarily suppress it by the side of the volcano… This is the only way I can think of to allow it to temporarily suppress the curse and linger on… Only in this way can the curse's final eruption be delayed… At least let its remaining life force… burn for a few more days.
Please forgive my incompetence… Perhaps in the future… there will be that day…"
The handwriting, like a broken kite string, abruptly stopped here, leaving behind a shocking blank space.
Ramon stared intently at the unwritten, yellowed page, as if struck by an invisible chill, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.
He suddenly turned his head, his gaze fixed on the cloak draped over the corner of the table, covered in thick, eerie white ash… A suffocating thought, like a cold viper, slithered into his mind—those ever-present, specially located ashes…
"Eilys…" He blurted out, his voice very soft, with a barely perceptible tremor, creating faint echoes in the vast, cold cave, which were then swallowed by a deeper silence.
Aside from the persistent "drip-drip" of water droplets condensing from the cave ceiling's stalactites hitting the rocky ground, there was no other response.
As if responding to his call, or perhaps an accidental touch, Ramon unconsciously brushed his hand against the adjacent bookshelf. With a long, faint creak, a thin, parchment-bound booklet, as if breaking free from its restraints, dropped with a soft "thud" at his feet. On the cover was a clearly inked Valyrian label: "Healing Spells" Basic Edition.
Ramon slowly bent down, his movements almost reverently cautious, and picked up the booklet. Just as his fingertips brushed against the cold, old paper, an anomaly occurred—
The entire magic array beneath his feet suddenly burst forth with intense azure light! As if a sleeping guardian had been instantly awakened! Countless tiny streams of light, like living tendrils, instantly swept over Ramon's entire body, with a cold and scrutinizing touch.
The light lasted for several breaths, seemingly confirming something, before finally receding reluctantly, and the cave returned to its dim state.
"Phew…" Ramon let out a long sigh; he didn't know when a layer of cold sweat had broken out on his back. "This vast and pure magic power… Even after the erosion of long years, Eilys's magical attainments in life were truly unfathomable!"
Amidst the shock, a strong sense of respect naturally arose. Ramon felt that he could not just let this descendant of the last Dragon King, a scholar tormented by fate, sleep here, accompanied by dust.
He quickly unslung the satchel he had been carrying and pulled out a small, anciently textured wooden box he had accidentally found on the road.
With utmost solemnity, bit by bit, he carefully gathered all the white ashes he could find on the stone table and by the corner of the cloak—Eilys Baelerys's final remains—into the box.
Holding this wooden box, which carried a heavy past, Ramon's heart was filled with mixed emotions.
The Freehold Empire, which had ruled Essos for thousands of years and stood like a myth, had vanished in such a tragic and heroic manner… This impact far surpassed any written record.
"Targaryen…" He gazed into the void, muttering to himself, many clues connecting and confirming in his mind.
"It seems their ancestors, perhaps, sensed the impending doom earlier than their 'Dragonlord' brethren? That's why they insisted on opposing slavery, standing out among the Forty Families… How they miraculously escaped Valyria with their entire clan before that world-destroying doomsday arrived… Could this almost miraculous luck… be the mercy repaid by those resistors who ultimately uttered the curse in the flames, for that unique 'good will'?" This thought left him restless for a long time.
He carefully placed the heavy wooden box deep into his satchel, as if preserving the dust of history.
His gaze turned to the silent bookshelf and the ancient magic-infused scrolls on the table; a never-before-felt eagerness ignited in his eyes. Those sealed-away knowledge were now laid out before him.
"Learning…" Ramon's lips curved into a small but firm arc, his somber mood lightened by a newfound thirst for knowledge, his voice echoing strangely in the empty cave. "It should be a ladder to power, and what's more…" He reached out, gently caressing the cold, rough parchment cover, "…this is the magical legacy of a lost Dragon King!"
But his gaze ultimately, irresistibly, fell upon the rusty iron box with black dragon patterns in the corner. The flame of curiosity and exploration rose again.
"Magic is certainly exciting," he murmured to himself, his voice becoming lighter, "but before embarking on a long and arduous study…" He grinned, revealing a mouthful of white teeth, "…let me see what unexpected 'surprises' this Dragon King has left for future generations!"