Chapter 355: Suspected Lost Dragon Eggs

Rhaegar's eyes narrowed, his grip on the letter tightening involuntarily.

"Prince, this is troubling news. We should have been better prepared," Tormund suggested softly.

Rhaegar quickly composed himself. "Tell Syrio to keep a close watch on the movements of the Triarchy. We can't afford to miss anything."

His immediate instinct was to mount Cannibal and head straight for the Summer Sea in search of the wild dragon. But he knew that was impractical. A wounded dragon could be hiding anywhere, and his chances of finding it were slim. Moreover, arriving with a dragon would only draw unnecessary attention and alert everyone in the region to his presence.

Tormund nodded, his tone serious. "Prince, this is only one part of the troubling news."

Rhaegar continued to read the letter.

"Prince Qoren's eldest daughter, Aliandra Martell, is engaged to the youngest son of the Sealord of Braavos..."

"Sunspear is purchasing armaments and equipment from Braavos and Qohor in large quantities..."

Rhaegar read on, a cold smile forming at the corners of his mouth. Dorn's ruler was truly cunning, marrying his daughter to the Sealord's son to bolster Dorne's military strength.

Tormund, his head bowed, produced another letter from his pocket. Hesitantly, he said, "Our spies in Sunspear report that Prince Qoren used three large ships to transport a complete dragon skeleton as a gift to the Sealord of Braavos."

"Dragon bones!" Rhaegar exclaimed, his eyes widening. "Could it be the remains of Meraxes?"

During the First Dornish War, Aegon the Conqueror's sister and queen, Rhaenys Targaryen, was killed in battle. She and her dragon, Meraxes, had been attacking Hellholt in the heart of Dorne.

During the battle, Meraxes flew too low and was struck in the eye by a scorpion bolt, crashing to her death. On the eve of the truce between Targaryen and Dorne, the Dornish envoys had returned Meraxes' skull to Aegon as a gesture of goodwill. To this day, Meraxes' skull remained in the Red Keep.

Tormund nodded. "It's almost certain that these are the remains of Meraxes. Despite missing the skull, the skeleton still measures a massive eighty meters."

"Worthy of being one of the family's original three dragons. Meraxes even surpassed Vhagar in size," Rhaegar sighed, feeling a pang of pity.

In the records, Meraxes had a noble lineage, featuring striking golden vertical pupils and bright silver scales, combined with a fierce yet loyal temperament.

As his thoughts raced, Rhaegar felt a growing sense of unease. "What is the Sealord of Braavos doing with the remains of a dragon?" he wondered aloud.

Dragon remains, whether living or dead, were incredibly valuable. Even dragon feces could be transformed into black dragonstones through blood sorcery, let alone the remains of an adult dragon.

"I suspect the Sealord of Braavos has ulterior motives," Tormund said thoughtfully, handing Rhaegar the letter and pointing to the last line. "The previous Sealord of Braavos was assassinated ten years ago, and a close associate hinted that he had hidden treasures of great value."

"This man once sought an alliance with House Velaryon by marrying his only son to Lady Laena, fostering close ties between the two houses."

"The current Sealord of Braavos was one of his trusted vassals and is rumored to have inherited many of his legacies."

Rhaegar listened intently, his mind racing. He had heard many tales about the last Sealord of Braavos—a wealthy, generous, yet capricious magnate.

When Rhaegar was born, his mother, Queen Aemma, died in childbirth, leaving him frail and in a coma for three years. Initially, the Sea Snake Corlys suggested his father, Viserys, marry again and offered his 12-year-old daughter, Laena, as a prospective queen.

Viserys, however, did not favor the young Laena and feared marrying into the already powerful Velaryon House, which could further complicate his rule with overbearing in-laws. Humiliated by the rejection, the Sea Snake Corlys angrily withdrew from the Small Council.

The former Sealord of Braavos, sensing an opportunity, arranged for his only son to marry Laena, forging a political alliance. After the Sealord died in an accident, his son did not seek revenge but instead stayed on Driftmark Island for sustenance.

Daemon and Laena spent time together, eventually leading to a duel where Daemon killed Laena's suitor, ending the farce.

Rhaegar's eyes widened as he connected the dots. "The marriage with House Velaryon was for dragons!"

During that period, the Targaryens were vulnerable. Rhaegar was a frail infant, and several of Aegon's younger siblings were still in their wombs. Only Daemon, exiled to the Vale, and an eight-year-old Rhaenyra, who rode a young Syrax, could be considered dragonlords.

In contrast, House Velaryon had three dragons: Vhagar, Meleys, and Seasmoke. Viserys could hardly sleep, fearing that Sea Snake Corlys might lead a fleet of ships and dragons to seize King's Landing.

Understanding dawned on Rhaegar. "The Sealord sought to strengthen his position through dragons."

Tormund nodded. "Rumor has it that the three dragon eggs lost from Dreamfyre were acquired by the former Sealord of Braavos. King Jaehaerys was unable to retrieve them."

"The treasures amassed by the previous Sealord might include those dragon eggs."

"And that's why he was assassinated, leaving the current Sealord to benefit."

Rhaegar's brows knitted together. "Can you determine the current Sealord's purpose for collecting the dragon's remains?"

"We're investigating," Tormund replied. "He has displayed the remains publicly. It's unclear whether he intends to keep them as a collection or if it's a cover for something else."

"Investigate thoroughly," Rhaegar ordered sharply. "The dragon eggs must not fall into anyone else's hands."

At the very least, the eggs must remain unhatched, ensuring they pose no threat.

Tormund bowed his head. "I will do my best, Prince."

...

Three days later, banquets continued to be held daily in the Stone Drum Tower, entertaining the guests from Pentos and discussing the elements of the alliance between the Iron Throne and Pentos. Daemon was particularly active, constantly persuading his brother, King Viserys, to support the alliance.

Outside the Stone Drum Tower, on the cliffs overlooking the sea, Rhaegar leaned against a bronze statue of the Mother. He held a dragonglass candle in his hand, his eyes closed in concentration. He wasn't praying, but rather testing the latest blood sorcery he had discovered.

The Explorer System panel documented this blood sorcery:

[Bloodmage's Secret Candle]

Exploration Progress: 100%

"Exploration complete. Please retrieve the lost treasure."

"Retrieval successful. Detecting..."

"Detection successful. Determined to be an epic-level relic: Bloodmage's Treasure."

After a brief pause, the text on the panel changed slightly.

"Congratulations, the Bloodmage's Treasure has been activated. You have obtained..."

[Reflection of the Moon]

Grade:  Epic (Purple)

Function: To be used with glass candles, enhancing the greatness of the bloodline and gaining insight into the hidden secrets of all things in the world.

The succinct description explained the approximate ability of this blood sorcery. Rhaegar calmed himself and skillfully used his mind to activate the [Reflection of the Moon].

Zira!

With a surge of magic, the transparent glass candle lit up, a tiny orange flame flickering within. Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes, focusing on the delicate flame.

Buzz—

A buzzing filled his head, and the image before him began to shift and swirl. The green lawn beneath his feet vanished, replaced by an all-encompassing perspective similar to a dreamscape.

The sky above was a brilliant blue, dotted with white clouds. His vision plunged into the vast ocean below, revealing an endless expanse of water with a few small black dots resembling isolated islands.

"Where is this?" Rhaegar wondered.

Before he could acclimate to this new perspective, his vision accelerated, moving at a speed imperceptible to the naked eye. He traversed the vast ocean, and a lush, primordial jungle came into view.

With the [Reflection of the Moon]guiding him, Rhaegar looked down on the world from an unfamiliar vantage point, the scene shifting in response to his thoughts.

A crisp deer call rang out, and a small, agile deer emerged from the jungle and made its way to a meandering stream to drink. The water was crystal clear, the silt interspersed with pebbles, and fish, shrimp, and river crayfish were faintly visible.

Rhaegar, watching from a distance, froze and wondered, "This feels so real, almost like I've seen it before."

Suddenly, the viewpoint shifted again, moving uncontrollably. At the edge of the vast jungle, an uninhabited mountain range blocked any further expansion of the jungle.

A sharp, squealing roar shattered the silence as a colorful dragon-like creature emerged from a valley, its narrow wings flapping as it soared into the air. Rhaegar's heart skipped a beat, thinking it might be a wild dragon.

The creature dove into the dense jungle and emerged with a squealing, red-haired monkey in its sharp claws. It was only then that Rhaegar got a full look at the creature.

It looked 80% dragon, with a bloody mouth full of fangs, bat-like wings, and long, sharp claws on its lower limbs. Its body was covered in turquoise scales with white stripes.

However, there were key differences: its pointed, thin head lacked dragon horns or a crown of horns, it didn't breathe fire, and its body was only twenty feet long, similar to a juvenile dragon.

"This is not a real dragon," Rhaegar realized. After a moment's thought, he identified the creature. "A creature that looks like a dragon, or more accurately, a Wyvern."

As his thoughts raced, he suddenly exclaimed, "This is the Continent of Sothoryos!"

During his great-grandfather Jaehaerys' time, his Hand of the King, Septon Barth, had written a classic book, "Dragons, Wyrms, and Wyverns: Their Unnatural History," documenting the Wyverns of the distant and unexplored continent of Sothoryos.

Another sharp roar echoed as a much larger brindled Wyvern, about thirty feet long, soared out of the valley. It immediately attacked the first Wyvern, trying to steal its prey. The two creatures fought fiercely, their fangs and claws tearing at each other with ferocity.

Rhaegar watched their battle, noting their low intelligence and aggressive nature. He remembered Septon Barth's writings, which mentioned several species of Wyverns. The brindled wyverns was the most common, growing up to thirty feet in length and more ferocious than dragons.

The Citadel of Dragonstone also had statues of wyverns, and other creatures.

Buzz—

Suddenly, Rhaegar's vision blurred, and the image disappeared. When he opened his eyes again, the flame of the transparent candle had gone out. He shook his head, realizing that the magic in his blood was nearly depleted.

"Not enough magic," he muttered, regaining his senses.

Holding the clear glass candle, he marveled at the treacherous nature of blood sorcery. It could show someone places thousands of miles away through a small dragonglass candle.

Pinching his brow, Rhaegar reflected, "The vision isn't well controlled. The farther the distance, the greater the magic consumption."

(Word count: 1,804)