Chapter 34 - Treasure of the Mountains

1 AC

Eyaben [1]

With Aegon's proclamation and the formation of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros under the rule of House Targaryen, there came the bane of countless nobles and other bureaucrats since time immemorial: Paperwork.

Garen Kalran, First of his House and Duke of Eyaben, simply sighed as he scribbled at the long list of documents his aides saw fit to plop onto his desk. He rubbed his eyes to wipe away the sleepiness, yawning slightly as he sipped a cup of coffee [2] mixed with milk and sugar.

"Rhoynamhari preserve me, how much longer must we work at this?" Questioned Marei, the aged woman groaning under the weight of her workload.

"We've barely tackled all of the most urgent documents which need to be reviewed and signed by the end of this week, after which we still need to deal with more less urgent documents by the end of the month," Garen stated, his voice tinged with fatigue, "And then we still have to deal with new issues that crop up as the months pass by: Clerk replacements, food and material shipments, law rehashing and so on."

"Wow, and I thought fishing at the river was difficult enough," Marei shook her head in exasperation, before she finished signing her last document and pushed away her growing stack, "Gods, I need a break."

Garen looked outside the study's window and saw the setting sun casting an amber glow over the horizon, and he sighed and stood up from his desk, stretching his back and yawning slightly and appreciating the brief freedom from his ball-and-chain.

"It is almost time for dinner," He noted, "We'll continue in about an hour's time."

"Finally," Marei breathed with relief, "I'm starving."

It had been barely three months since Aegon's coronation, and the bureaucrats of Dorne - or Dornia as the Valyrians insisted - had to slave its bureaucrats to long hours of gruelling work almost every day of the week to handle the sheer number of issues both new and old, and speed was of the essence in ensuring a smoother bureaucracy in later years.

Progress was exceedingly slow despite their best efforts, and only the iron hand and wide network of subordinates of Arin Rada prevented the entire Dukedom from falling apart. Everyone who could read and write was quickly snatched up, be they freeman or freed slave, and trained in the fundamentals of bureaucracy before being thrust into their new livelihoods.

Infrastructure throughout the rest of Dornia was also not up to standard [3], and to train both the troops and give them an extra source of income, new recruits and trained soldiers were tasked with the construction of roads and other critical infrastructure alongside regular labourers, aimed at creating a new corp of army engineers who could quickly construct defences and entrenched positions in the field against enemy armies.

Still, the bureaucratic corps of Dornia was slow to grow, for it took many months and even years to cultivate a new generation of educated intellectuals [4] crucial for clerk work; eastern Dornia itself still suffered from a crucial lack of bureaucrats despite months of occupation, though it was not as terrible as in western Dornia where the purges were still fresh. Furthermore, the Dornian Ducal Army remained severely weakened, and the remaining troops were just barely enough to police every stretch of the country.

Dinner that night was a simple affair of flatbread and curry, a light meal full of variety with sour yoghurt to balance out the richness. Here, Marei dined with Garen's family - his wife Emlyn and their three sons.

"How do you find dinner, Marei?"

Emlyn was a sweet, motherly woman with the compassion and kindness to melt even the most hardened of hearts, her curly black hair and smooth brown skin immaculate and well-maintained, her face looking only twenty years old despite being forty-and-five. Her piercing brown eyes connected with Marei's, and the withered hag simply nodded at her rather than break eye contact.

"It's good," Marei said, "It's always been good."

Emlyn simply smiled at her, happy and satisfied.

"It's just… I still can't believe I'm here, enjoying such a nice meal when all my life, I've made do with simpler meals," Marei mentioned, her tone trailing off.

"Marei?" Asked Garen.

"No, it's nothing," Marei shook her head.

Garen nodded and sipped his cup of tea, laying off the wine for the time being since it was the fourth day of the week.

"You know, I always thought fishing was hard work, but this bureaucratic work's equally taxing on the mind, if not continuously unforgiving," Marei remarked, munching slowly on her food while deep in thought.

"There's a reason why people who leave farms and fisheries go to the city to work," Garen said to Marei, "Stable pay and all that."

"Yeah, don't we know it," Marei sipped her tea, "I think I'd prefer fishing over this; at least I'm not dealing with so much complicated stuff."

"Do you miss your fishing life, Marei?" Asked Emlyn.

"...Hard to say," Marei said evasively.

"So, Aunt Marei," Said Garen's eldest son Gawyck, "Is it true you rescued Garen from a life of poverty?"

"Yeah, was skin and bones when I saw him," Marei answered, "Defiant, guarded, definitely suspicious of me, but I took him in. Taught him everything I knew."

"She was an excellent, albeit demanding teacher," Garen interjected.

"Is it true you made him cry through training?" Asked Gawyck.

"Gawyck!" Garen asked exasperatedly.

"Oh, it's true," Marei smiled, "I had to coddle him in order to stop him crying; he got tears and snot all over me."

"I did not!" Garen defended.

"Do continue, Marei," Emlyn beckoned, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes, "I'd like to know more about my husband's younger days."

"Et tu [5], Emlyn?" Garen accused, much to the amusement of everyone else at the table who shared hearty laughs at his expense.

Mercifully, Garen's embarrassment at the dinner table would be cut short as a messenger entered the room, bowing before approaching to speak

"My Liege, a patrol reports finding a mysterious cave leading into a deeper tunnel in the nearby mountains."

"How recent was this find?" Questioned Garen, his expression turning serious, "Are there any lurking dangers to know about?"

"According to the report, there are no dangers, but they have requested additional reinforcements just in case, and for prospectors to inspect the tunnel integrity," The messenger reported, "They await further orders."

"Tell those patrols currently there to hold inspections until it is absolutely safe to continue," Garen ordered, "Once safe, conduct a thorough inspection and check for anything dangerous - hidden traps or pitfalls."

"As you command, My Liege," Said the messenger as he bowed and left.

"There's still more tunnels, Father?" Asked Gawyck.

"Plenty that need to be found and mapped, Son," Garen told Gawyck, "And it's not just the Boneway tunnels; practically much of the eastern and northern Red Mountains are filled with tunnels that need to be found and mapped."

"Plenty of possible hideouts for bandits," Gawyck nodded in understanding, "As if the Reachmen weren't enough…"

"To be honest Father, why do these bandits persist in doing all these bothersome things if it doesn't help them in the end?" Said Garen's second son Kedry, "Frankly, it just does not seem worth the effort; neither them resisting us nor them warranting such scrupulous patrols from us."

Garen sighed in understanding, "There's always boring work to be done, like it or not. I mean, almost every occupation in this world has boring work involved. Also, as we know, these bandits are the last remnants of Red Mountain Dornish who are adamantly opposed to the new order."

"If only they had sense to match their pride," Kedry shook his head in exasperation, "At least they'll be dealt with quickly."

"Think they'll find any treasure in the tunnels?" Asked Wylion, Garen's thirdborn son, a bookish person more suited to bureaucratic work than battlefields, "I truly do hope we find some lost relics of the Rhoynar."

"I know you always love studying our lost past, Wylion," Garen smiled, "It remains to be seen if there are any relics, however."

"I always hate the waiting game," Wylion sighed with mock annoyance, "Gods, I wish it were faster."

"All in due time, Wylion," Emlyn reassured, and Wylion smiled and relaxed in his seat.

Marei looked at the harmonious relationship between Garen and his family despite their differences and flaws, and her own thoughts drifted to memories of her own family, how they lived a frugal but simple life before they entered into disagreements that ended in arguments, splitting their family apart.

She never heard anything from her husband and four daughters since then, and looking at the family around her, she felt a tinge of both regret and envy.

If things had gone differently… would my family still be together, happy and content?

She had no true answer to this.

IIOII

Not long after dinner, another messenger returned to Garen while he was busy with work, bearing news of the tunnel excavation.

"My Liege, the tunnel is remarkably stable and intact and free of any traps or bandits," The messenger reported with a smile, "In fact, they reported seeing a vast trove of books and strange artefacts within the tunnel, all miraculously untouched and unspoiled."

"Truly?" Garen questioned, his curiosity piqued.

Marei looked up from her desk in curiosity herself, her stylus [6] placed down and her ink bottle capped shut.

"Indeed, My Liege," Said the messenger, "For now, the patrolling troops have the tunnel sealed to outside entry and await further orders, requesting your further input on this matter."

"Tell them to keep the tunnels secure and await my arrival," Garen ordered, "I will come with a group of Hydromancers and scholars to investigate the tunnel myself."

"Yes, My Liege," The messenger bowed and left.

Once they were alone, Marei stood up from her seat and went towards Garen, a hasty spring in her step.

"Garen, may I accompany you on this journey towards the tunnel?" She asked.

"What brought this about?" Asked Garen.

"I… I just want to see for myself the legacy of the Rhoynar," Marei answered, a sudden uncertainty in her words and behaviour, "I just want to know if our… our struggle to preserve our culture was not in vain."

Garen simply nodded and told her, "You will follow every last one of my orders and the orders of your superiors to the letter; you will not touch and handle anything, and just watch as an observer. Understood?"

"Yes, My Liege," Marei nodded.

IIOII

The tunnel itself was an entrance to a highly durable tunnel vault that remained remarkably intact, bearing all the hallmarks of Rhoynish engineering and architecture; the multi-coloured tiles made of countless smaller tiles, the arches and pillars that held up the ceilings, and the motifs of turtles and river turtles that decorated the walls and ceilings.

Within the complex was an endless library of tomes in bookshelves as far as the eye could see, and an army of scholars was busy examining each and every tome with scrupulous care and attention. In one vault was an array of rare enchanted weaponry and armour long thought lost to time; in another vault was a hoard of artefacts that thrummed with power, silent but present; in one final vault held treasure of gold coins, jewellery and objects of great value.

Garen, Marei and Wylion drank in the sights with awe and wonder, like little children exploring a mythical forest of faeries for the first time in their lives. Crystal lights shone with light, illuminating an otherwise pitch black place.

"By Rhoynamhari's grace, I could spend months inside, studying all these relics and tomes!" Wylion exclaimed with childlike glee, his striking yellow eyes glittering, "Oh, how I must record all this down for posterity! If only the Dornish ancestors were not so foolish with the Red Edicts. Yes, I must record this down…"

"Calm down, Wylion. None of this is going anywhere," Garen informed Wylion with amusement.

Marei, on the other hand, was completely speechless the entire time, simply staring with wide-eyed bewilderment. At times, she gazed upon the painted frescoes with an indescribable mix of emotions best described as part denial, part anger, part disappointment, and part acceptance.

By the time they sat down, Marei simply buried her face in her hands, silently crying to the confusion of Garen who watched. By then, Wylion had gallivanted off towards the library, excitedly investigating the treasure trove of knowledge.

"Marei? Are you alright?" Asked Garen, though he refrained from making hand contact.

Taking a moment to breathe deeply, Marei focused teary eyes on Garen.

"I-I'm sorry, I just… I'm still trying to believe that all this knowledge, this legacy of our people… it was all hiding, just waiting to be found," Marei said through choking sobs, "It was just waiting to be found, and I was content just hiding away."

"Marei…" Garen said with concern.

"I hid away out of fear, and refused to listen to you," She continued, pouring out her anger and frustration in a low rumble, "My family told me it was alright to reintegrate to the world, and I didn't listen to them; I didn't listen to anyone. And now… look at me. I was all alone, penniless with only a boat to my name."

Garen said nothing in response to that.

"Why is it that I took so long to see this?" Marei turned to face Garen, severely distressed and regretful, "Was it my fear? My stubborn pride?"

Garen took a deep breath, then said to Marei in a gentle voice, "I think… for you, it was both that prevented you from taking a leap of faith."

Marei simply stared at Garen as he continued.

"You yourself told me that rather than risk the lives of your people for a possible hoax or a path of failure, you would preserve them instead and maintain your way of life as you always have. More importantly, however, I think you feared change."

Garen sighed, turning his face to stare at nothing.

"I will say that I did fear change, even though I also said I'd rather risk all than do nothing," Garen admitted, "However, it's also quite clear to me that change is precisely what we all want from the bottom of our hearts. I mean, why else would Rhoynamhari give us that vision, or birth Arin Rada into this world? I believe he was sent precisely to fulfil our lifelong wishes - to restore the Rhoynar and unite Dorne for good."

"I didn't think you'd believe in fate," Marei remarked.

"I don't, I still don't," Garen affirmed, "Though I also recall that Grand Duke Arin once told me this saying from a land called Japan: 'Do everything that is humanly possible, and leave the rest to heaven.'"

"What does that mean?" Asked Marei, "That there are some things we can change, others we can't?"

"Yes, and more importantly, some things are just beyond our control," Garen clarified, "And one thing we can't control is our innate desire to chase a better life."

"A lesson I learned the hard way," Marei nodded in agreement, "Listen, Garen. I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry, for the harsh things I said that day."

"I should be the one saying sorry," Garen smiled, "And there's nothing to forgive, Marei."

Marei smiled in relief, "Thanks, Garen."

And Garen patted her shoulder.

"Father! Father! I have the best news!" Wylion burst into the room, causing both Marei and Garen to jump in shock.

"Good Gods, Wylion!" Garen exclaimed, "What has you so excited?"

"It's the lore contained within these books!" Wylion exclaimed excitedly, "There was even a single orb of what seemed to be glass, and when I touched it, I had a rush of knowledge flow into my head!"

"Knowledge? Of what kind?" Garen asked, mortified yet curious.

"Endless libraries of knowledge, Father!" Wylion continued, beaming with excitement, "Notes on how to craft powerful enchantments with magic; a strange art that controls plants through manipulating their water; crafting crystals that act as mediums of magic; even notes on the study of Valyrian Spell-forged Steel! It's enough to catapult all of Dorne from an obscure backwater into a premier pioneer in the use of magical arts, even put us as an equal with House Targaryen's dragons!"

The last thing Garen remembered was the ground rising towards his face, before blackness took hold.

[1] Eyaben - The Rhoynish name for Skyreach.

[2] Coffee - A name given to the drink wakebean, imported from the Summer Islands. The beans are roasted with butter and sugar in a hot pan until they turn a brown colour, before being ground down into a fine powder and filtered to remove any unpleasant grains.

The powder is mixed with hot water to brew a bitter drink good for keeping awake for longer periods. It is currently enjoyed throughout Rizmon as a popular drink especially among bureaucrats, more commonly with milk and sugar.

To his family's chagrin, Arin Rada drinks as many as three to five cups of coffee a day, and without his daily coffee intake he would enter a 'coffee withdrawal' mode, where his concentration would simply lapse abruptly without warning.

[3] Building the large-scale road networks, farms, schools, sewer tunnels and other crucial infrastructure was a monumental task that took years to achieve, an immense cost in money, material and manpower.

[4] Exams for people to qualify as bureaucrats were given every six months, and while those who failed could try again, it was a common phenomenon among countless students to stay up late as much as possible to study.

[5] Et tu - A phrase that translates as 'And you'. Introduced by Arin as a joke, which came to be used jokingly in casual conversation and in new plays by Dornian theatricians.

[6] Styluses of wood with a metal nib became the commonly used writing implements in Dornia, replacing the brittle feather quill due to how often it wore down on paper made from wood pulp.