Feathers and quills may symbolize precious knowledge, but they are hollow comforts. During the Long Night, only wine and women feel truly real. Even among the Maesters, many fail to uphold the vows they once swore.
Aman frowned.
"Reo, we're still companions."
"Then buy me a cup of Arbor Gold, Frog. Maybe I won't mention your little toast to my father. He's probably eager to pledge his loyalty to the new king. Renly is said to be a generous ruler. I only have one silver stag left, and I don't intend to waste it on wine."
"Lazy" Reo Tyrell shrugged.
Rosie skipped over like a lively fawn.
The young serving girl smiled, dimples appearing on her cheeks. Her hazel eyes sparkled, and although she wasn't particularly well-endowed, she possessed a natural charm.
"Would you like some ale or strong cider?"
"Thank you for your generosity, little lady."
Reo pulled a silver stag from his pocket, slipped it into Rosie's neckline, and lightly patted her chest. She smiled brightly, her eyes fixed on him with admiration.
A rose from a low branch was still a rose.
"Go on, Rosie. I'll catch up with my friends."
Rosie happily hurried away.
"My luck at the wheel of fortune was terrible today," Reo continued. "My last silver stag went to a woman. So, what did you all have for dinner?"
Lareza glanced at Pety's battered face and sighed.
"Women appreciate handsome men. That's an eternal truth. Poor Pety."
"We had stew," Morrande replied.
"Then you must be full. I had roasted trout with onions and lemon juice, along with a bottle of red wine. Delicious... but expensive."
Reo turned toward Lareza.
"A lord's son should be generous, Sphinx. I know you have money. Buy me a drink."
"I'm not a lord's son," Lareza replied with a smile. "And I only buy drinks for friends. As I've said before, my mother is a merchant."
Malice flickered through Reo's hazel eyes.
"Your mother is just a monkey from the Summer Isles. Dornishmen don't care what's between a woman's legs as long as there is something there."
He grinned.
"Don't take it personally. At least you bathe. Unlike our freckled friend Pety, who smells like a pig farmer."
He even waved mockingly at Pety.
Pety wanted nothing more than to smash his wine goblet across Reo's face.
But he wasn't foolish enough.
Reo's father was Ser Morlin Tyrell, commander of the Oldtown garrison, while his cousin was Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South.
Offending him would bring nothing but trouble.
Lareza's smile disappeared.
"You owe my mother an apology."
"Do I?" Reo replied lazily. "My throat is so dry. How can I apologize without another drink?"
His handsome face remained full of mockery.
"I wonder why the Citadel accepts anyone these days. Black dogs, Dornishmen, pig farmers, cripples, and fools."
He looked around the table with obvious contempt.
"No wonder so many lords despise the Citadel. Look at the people it produces. Those who fail to become knights all end up here. Noble sons only stay long enough to learn what they need before returning home. They don't waste their lives serving others."
"Every word you speak brings shame upon both your family and the Citadel," Lareza said calmly.
"Really?" Reo laughed. "Then hurry up and buy me another drink."
Morrande glared at him.
"I'm going to tear your tongue out."
"Then who will tell you stories about True Dragons?" Reo shrugged. "Fat Illyrio once gave three fossilized dragon eggs to the Storm King's people. With the red comet blazing overhead, maybe they've already hatched."
"Three dragons?" Roney asked in surprise. "How could fossilized eggs hatch?"
"Nothing is impossible."
Reo smirked.
"You can't even count to three. At this rate, you'll never become a Maester."
"Leave him alone," one of the others warned.
"You wouldn't understand anyway. You're people of the dust."
He smiled proudly.
"As for me... I may soon become royalty."
"You?" Lareza raised an eyebrow.
"Renly Baratheon has gone north to freeze at the Wall. What connection do you have to the blacksmith king?"
"I can't reveal too much," Reo replied smugly. "I can only say that someone important in my family intends to send his daughter to court."
"The Tyrells?" Lareza asked thoughtfully.
"So she'll become a lady-in-waiting to the future queen."
"A lady-in-waiting can become much more than that," Reo said with a grin. "If the king truly possesses dragons, every risk will be worthwhile. That's all I'll say. The future will decide the rest."
"There are no true dragons," Aman insisted.
"You've been fooled."
"Really?" Reo replied.
"Everyone in Qarth is talking about them. The red comet marks their return. Legends are becoming reality, and true dragons will fly once more."
"Even Marwyn believes it."
Aman shook his head.
"Marwyn is unreliable. Archmaester Perestan never takes him seriously."
"Neither does Archmaester Ryam," Roney added.
Reo yawned.
"The sea contains water. The sun is hot. Caged pets hate watchdogs."
Everyone knew exactly who he meant.
Marwyn was the watchdog.
The Citadel's Maesters were the caged pets.
Lareza almost laughed.
Cruel as Reo's words were, they weren't entirely wrong.
Marwyn was unlike any other Maester—always searching, always questioning, always suspicious.
Aman frowned.
"Marwyn believes every tale about White Walkers and ancient magic. You're becoming just like him."
"No," Reo replied.
"You're wrong."
He leaned forward.
"The glass candle is burning."
Silence immediately filled the room.
Roney looked confused.
Morrande laughed loudly.
Lareza's eyes widened.
Pety listened with complete attention.
The glass candles were an open secret within the Citadel.
There were four of them—one green and three black—brought from Valyria long before the Doom.
For centuries, none had ever burned.
"Impossible," Aman said.
"Dragon glass doesn't burn."
"I know what I saw."
Reo's expression turned serious.
"The candle burned with my own eyes. Its flame never flickered, no matter how strong the wind was. It cast strange black shadows unlike any ordinary fire."
Aman still refused to believe him.
Only Lareza remained deep in thought.
"If the dragons truly return..."
"Then darker things will return with them," Reo answered quietly.
"The grey sheep close their eyes, but the watchdog sees the truth."
"Ancient powers are awakening."
"Shadows are stirring."
"An age of miracles and horrors is coming."
"An age of gods... and heroes."
Then he smiled lazily once more.
"I think that deserves another drink."
"It's still early," Lareza replied.
"I'll buy this round."
The tavern soon echoed with laughter and conversation as everyone shared another bottle of Dornish wine.
Eventually, they all went their separate ways.
They had never truly been close friends.
Lareza had simply been the one holding the group together.
As they left, Reo smirked.
"The next time I see Rosie, she'll be different."
Pety's face instantly darkened.
Lareza couldn't help but pity him.
"He doesn't even have enough money for wine," he thought. "How could he ever afford Rosie's price?"
Morrande slapped Pety on the shoulder.
"Come on. That old man needs you every time he goes to the privy. Without you, he wouldn't even know where he is."
The group dispersed.
Pety walked away in misery, still dreaming of somehow finding enough gold dragons.
---
From the tavern's second floor, a cloaked alchemist silently watched them leave.
He wore a plain brown traveling cloak with the hood pulled low.
Beneath it was the face of an ordinary young man with chubby cheeks, neatly trimmed black curls, faint stubble, an aquiline nose, and a thin scar across his right cheek.
"I want information on that boy," the alchemist told Rosie.
"Pety. The farmer's younger brother."
"I want to meet him."
"I'll pay."
He tossed her a silver stag.
Rosie pouted.
"Pety?"
"He's just a farmer's son, and not a very bright one. He spends all day looking after a senile old man."
"Reo is a Tyrell."
"Lareza is young and handsome."
"Aman already has four links on his Maester's chain."
"They're all much more interesting."
The alchemist placed another silver stag on the table.
"Arrange the meeting."
Rosie smiled.
"Gladly."
---
Lareza crossed the weathered wooden bridge toward the Citadel.
Tonight's gathering had been worthwhile.
He had learned everything he needed.
Now it was time to meet Marwyn.
Oldtown truly was a beautiful city.
As he walked, he listened to its morning symphony.
The bells of the Sailor's Sept rang first.
Then the Lord's Sept answered.
Soon afterward came the bells from the Sept of the Seven across the Mander.
Finally, the Starry Sept joined them.
At the docks, the Red Priests gathered before dawn to greet the rising sun with their prayers.
"Oldtown is like a great trumpet," Lareza thought.
The city's layout fascinated him.
To the west of the Mander stood the grand civic buildings.
Upstream rose the towers and domes of the Citadel, linked together by ancient stone bridges.
Downstream stood the Starry Sept, surrounded by the homes of Oldtown's wealthiest citizens.
Beyond everything towered the Hightower upon Battle Isle, its blazing beacon shining like a giant sword piercing the heavens.
Legend claimed a Hightower ancestor had once slain a true dragon there.
"I should find the wizard."
Lareza headed toward Ravenry Isle.
No boat was necessary.
An old wooden drawbridge connected the island to the eastern bank.
The Raven Tower, the oldest structure within the Citadel, stood silently ahead.
As soon as Lareza reached the entrance, the heavy oak-and-iron door opened.
Marwyn stood there.
"You've finally come."
His expression showed no surprise.
Inside the room, a twisted glass candle burned with an eerie green flame.
Despite the breeze from the open door, its flame never flickered.
The shadows it cast were impossibly dark.
"You knew I was coming?" Lareza asked.
"The candle showed me."
Marwyn chuckled.
"But now I must leave."
"You have talent, boy."
"You're not the sort who truly wishes to become a Maester."
"You're curious."
"Curiosity is a virtue."
"But never trust the people of the Citadel."
"They fear curious minds."
"Why are you leaving?" Lareza asked.
"I'm going to aid the Storm King... and the true dragons."
"If I delay any longer, I'll miss history itself."
"The Citadel will send ravens."
"I would rather witness miracles with my own eyes."
"So you truly believe the dragons have returned?" Lareza asked.
"There is no doubt."
Marwyn smiled.
"Red is the color of dragons."
"The color of fire."
"They are born from flame."
"The world is entering an age of madness..."
"An age of legends."
He looked directly into Lareza's eyes.
"I have high hopes for both you and Reo Tyrell."
"You haven't allowed yourselves to become fools."
"But remember this."
"Oldtown is not a safe place."
"When the time comes..."
"Run."
________________________________________
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