Chapter 56

Daenys had to admit to herself that she was confused as she sat down at the sumptuously laid table. She carefully adjusted her dress beneath her to make sure there were no wrinkles in it and to avoid discomfort during the long sitting. The silky fabrics slid gently over the polished wood of the chair as she concentrated on her posture.

She knew that the conversation could either turn into a lengthy discussion where they sat at the table until late into the night, or that it would be decided after a few words and she would have to get up again without having achieved anything.

What puzzled her most, however, was the absence of the other members of the Baelaeron family. She would have expected at least Lady Baelaeron to be present to receive her. But even she was nowhere to be seen at the table.

Daenys let her gaze glide over the finely laid table, which was adorned with precious tableware and fine crystal glasses. Finally, she could no longer contain her curiosity.

"Forgive my curiosity, Lord Baelaeron," she began carefully as she continued to admire the exquisite arrangement of the table, "but I would have expected at least your wife to do us the honor of her presence this evening."

Lord Baelaeron leaned back slightly in his chair. "Oh, quite the opposite, Lady Daenys. Curiosity, especially at such a young age, is a virtue. It shows that you strive for knowledge and are willing to question the world around you. That is an honorable quality to have. And to answer your question, my wife is not currently in Azorath."

Daenys nodded slightly. "I thank you for your kind words, Lord Baelaeron. It is reassuring to know that my questions are welcome here."

"Certainly, but let's eat something first," Argon agreed and reached for his spoon.

It started with a delicate soup of wild mushrooms and truffles. The soup was finished with a touch of cream and served with crusty bread.

Daenys took a spoonful and let the soup slowly melt on her tongue. A satisfied smile flitted across her face as the warmth of the soup spread a comforting coziness inside her.

"I take it from the look on your face that the soup is to your satisfaction?" Argon asked as he tore off a piece of bread and watched her carefully.

Daenys raised an eyebrow slightly and smiled gently. "You presume correctly, Lord Baelaeron. The soup is exquisite and the flavors harmonize beautifully."

"I'm glad to hear it," Argon replied with a gentle smile.

Next came a salad of fresh, juicy green leaves mixed with exotic fruits. It was accompanied by roasted nuts and a light, sweet and sour dressing that rounded off the taste perfectly.

The main course was something Daenys had never tasted before, but the flavor immediately delighted her. It was a pheasant, as Argon called it, stuffed with a delicious mixture of aromatic herbs, onions and dried berries. The stuffing gave the tender meat a wonderful depth and complexity that delighted her senses. The pheasant was served on a bed of seasoned wild rice.

As they ate, the conversation led them from one topic to the next, and Daenys began to gain a deeper insight into Argon's character. What surprised her was the sense that he was less a man of great ambition - a trait that seemed unusual for someone of his status and background.

Most men in his position were driven by insatiable ambition, eager to expand their influence and consolidate their power. But with Argon, she noticed a conspicuous restraint. He spoke with a certain composure about the responsibilities and tasks that lay ahead of him, as if they did not fill him with the same urgency as others.

Why did he seem to lack the ambition that so many in his position displayed? Was it a conscious decision, or was it a lack of determination? These thoughts occupied Daenys as she continued to talk to him, trying to see more of the person behind the calm façade.

Argon wiped his mouth thoughtfully with a white cloth before carefully putting it aside. "Very well," he began, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I think enough time has passed. As we both know, you have not come here for the city or my humble presence. You have a cause that has brought you here. Now would be the time to bring it up."

Daenys felt the atmosphere in the room change.

"You are right," Daenys began, "there is something that concerns me deeply, something that I need to understand. And I believe that the answers I seek may be hidden here in Azorath."

Argon leaned forward slightly, his interest piqued. "In Azorath?" he asked, his eyes fixed intently on her face. "I am all ears. What exactly leads you to this belief, Lady Daenys?"

"More specifically, it has something to do with your great-great-grandfather, Kaelarys Baelaeron."

Argon leaned back, a slight smile on his lips, but one that was accompanied by serious curiosity. "In Azorath," he said with a hint of irony in his voice, "everything has something to do with my great-great-grandfather Kaelarys Baelaeron. You'll have to be more specific than that, Lady Daenys."

She would have rolled her eyes at that if she hadn't had to mind her manners with the person in front of her.

"I had a dream some time ago, and I believe I know that Kaelarys Baelaeron had the same dream."

"By a dream you mean...?" he asked, his voice hesitant and already guessing what she was going to say.

"Yes," Daenys confirmed, "a dragon dream."

"And what exactly makes you think that you had the same dream as Kaelary's Baelaeron?" Argon asked skeptically. "If I'm not mistaken, there are several centuries between his lifetime and now."

"Because of Azorath!" Daenys replied emphatically.

"Because of a city?" Argon raised an eyebrow, his confusion clear. "You'll have to explain that to me."

Daenys took a deep breath and searched for the right words. "I firmly believe that Kaelarys Baelaeron built Azorath because he had the same dragon dream as me. A dream that revealed something so important to him that he had to build this city - a place that played a key role in his vision. As his descendant, you must know about it, don't you?"

"Your knowledge of Kaelary's Baelaeron apparently exceeds mine," Argon replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Because I actually know nothing of what you just mentioned."

Daenys watched him carefully, looking for a sign as to whether he was telling the truth or perhaps hiding something. But Argon's expression remained sincere, if pensive.

Finally, Daenys sighed and shook her head, as if trying to shake off the disappointment. "It can't be that this was all for nothing," she muttered, her voice carried with frustration and doubt.

Argon watched her in silence for a moment before he spoke in a quiet but firm voice: "I don't know exactly what's bothering you so much, Lady Daenys, but I can tell you one thing: sometimes the paths of the mind lead us down dead ends, while the paths of the heart take us where we really belong. It's not always easy to hear the voice of the heart, especially when doubt and uncertainty surround us, but it has a power that often carries us further than we think possible."

He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in in the silence of the room, and then continued: "You have come here because you are so preoccupied by this dream that you believe it to be true. Perhaps the right way is to believe it, Lady Daenys? Sometimes it is not the logical explanations, but our faith and our beliefs that show us the true path."

Daenys felt his words resonate within her. She hadn't taken this dream lightly as a vision, but because it had touched something deep inside her, something she couldn't ignore.

"If I may ask," Argon began cautiously, "what was it in the dream that shook you so?"

Daenys raised her head, and for a moment there was a deep silence in the air. Her eyes met his.

"The fall of Valyria!" she finally replied.

Argon was silent for a moment as he processed Daenys' words. She could see in his eyes that he didn't think she was crazy, which sent a wave of relief through her.

Perhaps, she thought, with his help they could convince the other families that this warning was not to be ignored.

"I thank you for your warning," Argon said thoughtfully. "Ultimately, we cannot say for sure whether it will come true or not, but one thing is certain: House Baelaeron is safe in Azorath. But I am convinced that you will master the task entrusted to you by the gods fabulously. A toast to that,' he added, crushing her previous thoughts as he raised his glass to toast her.

She raised her glass lacklusterly. It looks as if the journey has been in vain.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Men scroll

Men see

Men smile

Men gifts Stones

Men leaves Review

Men leaves happily.

Yours,

Jasonenrick! :D