The ruins of Valyria lay near the center of the known world, if one excluded the lands beyond Asshai.
The distance Viserys traveled from the Stepstones was roughly equal to the journey from Qarth.
However, the Qartheen route was relatively safer, avoiding the chaotic pirate waters of the Stepstones and the Disputed Lands.
Viserys and the dragon hovered in the shadows behind the ruins, observing the strange newcomers.
He saw the grotesque Undying Ones—two old withered scallions from Qarth—and their Unsullied escort.
Years of consuming shade of the evening had taken their toll.
The skin of the Undying was a saturated deep violet-blue, their lips and nails even darker, almost black. Even the whites of their eyes were blue.
Once a renowned order of warlocks in the East, they had now decayed into decadence.
Though called warlocks, the House of the Undying occasionally included witches.
Legends claimed they possessed immense power, but in recent times, they had achieved little.
Like the Alchemists' Guild in the Seven Kingdoms, their power and glory were fading.
Yet, some in Qarth secretly scorned the warlocks while whispering their names in fear, and the East still respected their supposed wisdom and power.
Though many claimed the warlocks lied about their might, fear lingered; few dared offend them.
With their reputation, raising a fleet was not difficult.
The Undying were near death from old age. Before rotting away completely, they hid in the Palace of Dust, fearing the outside world.
For two or three of them to take such a risk was understandable—desperation.
But this expedition was doomed. Their arrival here was already a miracle.
The shade of the evening and the living heart they carried could only sustain them for so long; they were too old.
Only Unsullied could form such an expedition. Mercenaries and slaves refused to set foot on the Smoking Sea, and Unsullied possessed superior pain tolerance.
The leading Undying stared at the beating heart in his box—a human heart, rotten, swollen, and blue with bruising, yet still alive.
It beat with a deep, vibrating thrum, emitting waves of dark blue light.
" The heart of the Legendary Warlock... not in the Palace of Dust, but exploring the Smoking Sea with us. We had no choice; we did not wish to die like this, offering our own hearts," the second Undying lamented.
"Wait or kill?" Viserys pondered, deciding to watch a little longer.
The Undying noticed the colossal dragon skeleton towering over the landscape, vast and domineering.
A mix of joy and sorrow crossed the Undying's face. "Ancient... the terrifying dragon of an ancient Dragonlord. Where the dragon fell, the Blood Mage's palace stands. But it is not a true, living dragon. I need a dragon. Dragon is blood; dragon is fire.
"If not a true dragon, the surviving Targaryen royals are descendants of blood and fire. Alas, they are in Andalos."
Viserys found their words increasingly absurd. These Undying had gone mad in the end.
Filled with the terror of impending death and a craving for life, they targeted dragons and House Targaryen.
Long ago, people revered Dragonlord families as gods. Even now, they were seen as carrying the blood of ancient deities, distinct from mortals.
No wonder when Daenerys visited the House of the Undying, they first tried to confuse her with illusions, then attempted to drain her life force.
Viserys rubbed the ring on his hand. The Undying must die.
Usually, Viserys was the one looting others. For someone to target him was a death sentence.
A fundamental conflict existed between Viserys and the warlocks of Qarth. The Undying coveted the life force of Dragonlord descendants; they had to be eliminated.
Even concerning future trade routes, Qarth and Viserys were destined enemies.
The two Undying looked greedily at the beating, withered heart. "The heart of the Legendary Warlock... but in this land of blood and fire, I cannot last long. Go quickly, search the wizard's palace. Look for dragon eggs or other life substances."
"As you command, Your Worship, Great Warlock." The Unsullied drew their weapons impassively and moved toward the collapsed tower.
They searched the palace but found nothing of value; Viserys had picked it clean.
Mundane gold and silver meant nothing to the Undying; Qarth itself was famed for its wealth.
"Wizard's books, dragon eggs, potions, experiments! Nothing?!" the Undying screamed madly.
"Nothing," the Unsullied reported with certainty. "The Blood Mage's beasts fled when the tower cracked long ago. As for the rest... someone was here. Nothing of value remains."
"Who? Who is the thief?" the leading Undying cursed. "Who stole my things?"
"Your Worship, we landed with eighty Unsullied. Now, less than half remain—perhaps fewer than thirty... If we stay, we will all die here," the Unsullied commander suggested quietly. "Let us return."
"Then they will call me a cowardly warlock."
"No, you will be the great explorer of the East." The Unsullied shook his head.
"No! I want blood and fire to extend my life!" the Undying roared, grabbing a flask of blue shade of the evening and drinking deep.
The liquid looked like ink mixed with rotten meat, disgusting, yet potent with magic.
"A dragon." The two Undying wept with joy, muttering deliriously. "I see a true dragon... gold-red flames flowing nearby. If I see a dragon, I can live again."
The heart in the box beat violently, as if the warlocks were casting a spell of prayer.
Asking the heart to find the dragon, to enlighten them.
The Unsullied stood silent, assuming the Undying had gone mad.
But then... a shadow appeared in the air, a fusion of heat and sulfur.
A magnificent golden dragon appeared in the sky. For a moment, hearts stopped beating, time suspended for the beast.
Smoke curled from the dragon's maw, followed by fire.
"Dracarys!" The gold-red shadow descended as Viserys gave the command.
Scorching dragonfire rained down. The leading Undying was instantly bathed in flames.
"Run! It's a dragon!"
"The dragon is here!"
"How is there a living man?!"
The second Undying, seeing the dragon, snatched the beating heart from the box and ran to a distance.
The first Undying screamed and cursed in a long-dead tongue, his voice thin as paper.
His flesh cracked like parchment, his bones burning like oil-soaked wood.
Dancing and thrashing, consumed by fire, he stumbled and twisted, raising burning hands, fingers bright as torches.
The dragon circled overhead. Viserys looked down at the Undying's party.
The second Undying watched, mouth dry, as his companion died a horrific death.
He finally believed that a dragon and a dragonrider had truly revived in these ruins.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. The heart beat.
The second Undying's face grew younger, as if time were reversing, restoring youth and beauty.
He appeared now in luxurious robes of ermine, ruby velvet, and cloth-of-gold.
The dragon prepared its fire. Viserys was certain he was seeing an illusion; Qartheen warlocks relied on such tricks.
Burn the heart, and the warlock would return to his withered, dying state.
"Viserys Targaryen, welcome to our ranks. We are the Undying of Qarth; our feast is the Feast of Eternity," the Undying chanted. "We have waited for you for a long time."
The Undying dared not make sudden moves, using words of praise instead.
Sunfyre roared impatiently. A dragon's eyes pierced illusions; it was a slayer of lies.
Viserys noticed the bruised, swollen heart beating violently, trying to drag him into a memory of ancient desolation.
His ring and bracelet burned against his skin, keeping his mind clear.