Valyria
"Here we are—Oros," Marwyn said.
Aryan nodded, his eyes scanning their surroundings. The entire place was in ruins, with only sparse signs of life scattered here and there. Once, Oros had been second only to the great city of Valyria in majesty, a proud and sprawling settlement basking in the shadow of the Freehold's glory. Now, it was a husk of its former self—desolate, crumbling, a relic of a bygone era.
They moved deeper into the ruined city, treading carefully until they reached a remote and isolated part of the settlement. Aryan took a moment to ensure there were no prying eyes before he finally lifted the Disillusionment Charm from both himself and Marwyn, as well as the carpet.
"Where exactly are we now?" Aryan asked.
Marwyn stroked his beard, thinking for a moment before answering, "We are on the northern coast of the Smoking Sea."
Aryan looked toward the distant waters, shrouded in mist and faintly steaming even from afar. The Doom's scars still lingered here, centuries later.
"Is it safe to stay here?" Aryan asked, glancing at their surroundings. "Are there wild animals or anything else we should worry about?"
Marwyn shook his head. "No, I don't believe so. Whatever once lived here has long since fled or perished. I think we'll be safe in your tent for the night."
"Good," Aryan said, exhaling. "We'll rest today and head for Valyria tomorrow. Continuously casting the Disillusionment Charm on both of us and the carpet has drained me more than I expected. I wish all of Planetos was like the North—my life would be so much easier. It's disgusting that something as simple as this could tire me out."
Marwyn chuckled. "Even the strongest need rest, Aryan. But you're right—we need to be at our best if we're to set foot in Valyria."
Aryan stretched his shoulders, feeling the weight of his fatigue. "Do you have enough of those pepper-up potions you made? I might need them when we reach Valyria."
Marwyn nodded. "I have them enough for our whole trip in Essos. But for now, let's set up your tent and get some rest. We'll need every bit of strength for what lies ahead."
With that, Aryan retrieved the enchanted tent from his charmed bag and unfurled it.
_____________________________________________________________________
Aryan took out his wand and cast, "Point Me, Valyria."
The wand spun briefly before locking onto a direction. Without hesitation, they adjusted their course accordingly, gliding through the sky on the enchanted carpet.
Soon, they were soaring over the Smoking Sea—a hellish expanse that still boiled, even centuries after the Doom. The land and sea had been reshaped by the cataclysm, with towering volcanoes and jagged, smoking rock formations rising from the depths. Steam curled into the air, thick and oppressive, causing both Aryan and Marwyn to sweat despite the height at which they flew.
"The Smoking Sea was once just a narrow strait," Marwyn mused, watching the tortured landscape below. "But after the Doom, the sea swallowed much of the Valyrian Peninsula, widening it into what we see now."
Aryan nodded but remained silent, his focus on the distant, ruined landmass ahead.
Sensing his curiosity, Marwyn began to speak, recounting the history of Valyria.
"The Valyrian Freehold was once the greatest empire in the known world, ruling over half of Essos and extending its reach even to Westeros, with the island of Dragonstone as its westernmost outpost. The Freehold was not a kingdom but a dominion ruled by the Lords Freeholder—powerful noble families, the most powerful among them being the dragonlords."
As they flew onward, Marwyn continued his tale.
"Valyria was not always the seat of an empire. In the beginning, they were but simple shepherds, dwelling on the Valyrian Peninsula, until they discovered dragons lairing in the Fourteen Flames—a vast chain of volcanoes. Unlike any who may have come before them, the Valyrians did not fear the beasts. Instead, they tamed them with magic, mastering the art of raising and training dragons into weapons of war. Their civilization flourished, and with it, so did their mastery over magic. The great city of Valyria rose, its skyline adorned with topless towers that reached the heavens, where the dragons soared and cast their shadows below. Sphinxes of stone with eyes of garnet watched over the streets, while sorcerer-smiths forged weapons of legendary strength—Valyrian steel, imbued with spells that made them sharp beyond compare and unbreakable."
The mere thought of the lost magic intrigued Aryan, but he let Marwyn continue uninterrupted.
"Yet even Valyria was not without enemies. Some five thousand years ago, the Old Empire of Ghis ruled much of Essos, and they sought to halt Valyria's rise. The Ghiscari legions, with their famed lockstep legions, launched war after war against the burgeoning Freehold. But even their might could not match Valyria's greatest weapons—dragons. Five times they waged war, and five times they were cast down."
A wry smirk crossed Marwyn's face.
"In the final war, the Valyrians took the fight to the of Ghis itself. They razed Old Ghis to the ground, salted its fields, and reduced its once-proud empire to dust. Its remnants—Meereen, Yunkai and Astapor became little more than client states, surviving only because Valyria allowed it. The Valyrians took slavery from the Ghiscari and made it their own, using their vast amount of slaves to mine wealth from the Fourteen Flames and build cities and roads that spanned their empire."
Aryan absorbed the knowledge, fascinated by the sheer dominance Valyria had once held.
"For many years," Marwyn continued, "the Freehold remained at peace with another great civilization—the Rhoynar, who ruled the mighty river Rhoyne to the west. But Valyria was ever hungry, and from their colonial outpost at Volantis, they set their sights further westward, launching wars against the Andals of Andalos. Rather than be enslaved, the Andals fled across the Narrow Sea and invaded Westeros, leaving the remaining Andals of Essos to be crushed beneath the dragonlords' advance."
Aryan frowned slightly. "Then why did the Rhoynar flee to Dorne?"
Marwyn sighed. "The Rhoynish Wars. When Volantis turned its gaze upon the Rhoynar, they did not submit easily. Prince Garin of Chroyane led a mighty army of 250,000 and won several stunning victories, defeating Valyrian forces at Selhorys, Valysar, and Volon Therys. At Volon Therys, he achieved his greatest triumph—defeating a force of a hundred thousand men and slaying two dragons."
Aryan raised an eyebrow. He had always known Nymeria's people had fled from Valyria, but he had not realized they had fought so fiercely.
Marwyn shook his head grimly. "But Valyria's response was swift and devastating. Three hundred dragons descended upon the Rhoynar. Garin the Great was captured, his vast army burned to ash, and his people slaughtered. Those who survived had two choices—flee or perish."
He cast Aryan a meaningful glance. "And so, Princess Nymeria of Ny Sar gathered her people and led them across the Narrow Sea, finally reaching to Dorne. The singers say she commanded ten thousand ships, filled with women and children—for most of the men of fighting age had perished."
For a moment, Aryan said nothing, simply watching the horizon where Valyria was.
Marwyn continued "At its height, the Freehold was unmatched. From Volantis to the distant edge of Sarnor, its cities and colonies stretched across Essos, connected by vast dragonroads. The Free Cities—Volantis, Myr, Tyrosh, and Pentos—were born from Valyria's expansion. Lys was established as a pleasure retreat, while Norvos, Qohor, and Lorath were founded by religious exiles. Braavos was born in secret—founded by slaves who defied their Valyrian masters."
Marwyn exhaled, rubbing his temples. "That was Valyria. A realm of dragons, magic, and unrivaled power. And yet, for all their might, it was not an enemy that destroyed them. It was The Fourteen Flames"
Soon, they would see Valyria itself—the graveyard of an empire, where even dragons had perished.
Aryan shook his head in disbelief. "Hard to believe it. The Valyrians shaped Essos, directly or indirectly, in so many ways… and yet their great civilization was snuffed out in an instant."
Marwyn's voice was grim as he nodded. "The Doom was sudden. In just a single day, everything the Valyrians had built over thousands of years was reduced to ruin. The Fourteen Flames erupted violently, spewing fire, ash, and smoke that darkened the skies. Even dragons, creatures born of fire, could not survive that day. Palaces, temples, entire towns were swallowed by earthquakes, while lakes boiled or turned to acid. Molten rock was hurled a thousand feet into the sky, and red clouds rained down dragonglass upon the land. The very ground cracked apart, breaking the Valyrian Peninsula into countless smaller islands. Where once stood the capital of the Freehold empire, there was now only the Smoking Sea, a cursed place where no sailor dares to go."
Aryan listened as Marwyn continued.
"The devastation was not limited to Valyria. A great tsunami swallowed the Isle of Cedars, destroying the cities of Velos and Ghozai. All across Essos, the power vacuum left by Valyria's fall plunged the continent into anarchy. This was the Century of Blood—where war consumed the land. Volantis, believing itself the rightful heir to the Freehold, sought to dominate the other Free Cities. But they failed. And while some dragonlords in Lys and Tyrosh survived the Doom, they did not last long. They and their dragons were hunted down and killed"
Aryan said. "And yet, for all that destruction, the Targaryens' 'Doom' was just a few mad kings?"
Marwyn gave him a look before nodding. "That is what surprises me the most. The Valyrian nobility placed immense importance on blood purity. Incestuous marriage—brother to sister, uncle to niece, aunt to nephew, cousin to cousin was not only common but encouraged among the dragonlords. This was not unique to House Targaryen. All of Valyria's ruling families practiced it. And yet…" He trailed off, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Aryan narrowed his eyes. "Yet what?"
Marwyn said. "I have studied all the accounts we have of the Valyrians, everything preserved in the Citadel. And there is no mention of madness among the Valyrian dragonlords. Not before the Doom, not before the Conquest. It was only after the Targaryens took Westeros that this started."
Aryan frowned. "That doesn't make sense."
Marwyn spread his hands. "Exactly. If incest alone were to blame, then surely the Freehold would have been rife with madness. But there is no record of such afflictions. The Valyrians were known for their power, their magic, their dragons—but not for losing their minds."
Aryan fell into thought, then said, "In my old world, incest was seen as taboo. Among non-magicals, it sometimes led to deformities. But among wizards, the most extreme cases only resulted in the birth of non-magical children. Madness, though… that was unheard of." He glanced at Marwyn. "Maybe the old dragonlords had found a way to counter it. Some kind of knowledge or magic that was lost after the Conquest."
Marwyn nodded slowly. "Another mystery to which I hope we may find answers in Valyria."
Their conversation faded into silence as they continued flying. Nearly three hours passed before Aryan spotted something in the distance—land. A dark, ruined coastline.
Marwyn's voice was laced with excitement. "Do you realize what this means? This is the farthest anyone has come near Valyria in centuries. Ships tend to burn in the Smoking Sea before they ever make it this close."
Aryan's said "Or perhaps others have made it here but none returned to tell the tale."
As if to prove his words, a dark shape appeared in the waters below—a half-sunken wreck, its rotting hull barely visible above the waves. Aryan slowed their descent to take a closer look. The ship's tattered sails still clung to its masts, faded and torn but the sigil emblazoned upon them was unmistakable.
A crimson lion.
"A Lannister ship?" Aryan muttered, eyes widening.
Marwyn exhaled sharply. "So this is the fate of Gerion Lannister."
Aryan turned to him, puzzled. "Gerion?"
Marwyn nodded. "Gerion Lannister. Fourth brother of Lord Tywin. He sailed to Valyria years ago, seeking House Lannister's ancestral Valyrian steel sword, Brightroar. His ship, the Laughing Lion, was last seen leaving Volantis. Most of his crew had abandoned him, fearing the journey into the Smoking Sea. To replace them, he was forced to buy slaves. That was the last anyone ever heard of him."
Aryan looked back at the wreck "So the Lannisters once had their own Valyrian steel sword. I always wondered why a Great House like theirs didn't."
Marwyn chuckled. "Oh, they did. Brightroar. The Lannisters acquired it a century before the Doom, and it is said they paid a weight in gold so vast it could have raised an army. But a century later, it was lost when King Tommen II Lannister led an expedition to Valyria, seeking to plunder its lost riches. Neither he, nor his fleet, nor Brightroar ever returned."
Aryan smirked. "And so the Lions have been searching for a replacement ever since."
Marwyn laughed. "Indeed. Lord Tywin Lannister was particularly desperate. He attempted to buy a Valyrian steel sword from lesser houses, but no one would part with theirs. He even offered Lord Randyll Tarly one million gold dragons for Heartsbane."
Aryan shook his head in amusement. "And still, he failed."
Marwyn grinned. "Lannisters cannot tolerate lacking what others possess. Especially not Tywin."
Aryan's gaze remained fixed on the wreck below. Somewhere beneath those ruined waves, Gerion Lannister had met his fate.
Aryan laughed then pointing to the ruins said, "Accio Brightroar." Nothing happened.
"I guess Gerion failed." Aryan said. As soon as he said that something stuck hard at the back of his head and fell onto the carpet.
"Oww." He moaned in pain and looked behind. It was a sheathed sword with a golden handle and a red ruby at its pommel. Marwyn gingerly took the longsword and took it out.
"This is Brightroar." He exclaimed. "But where did it come from?"
Still rubbing his head and wincing, Aryan looked around and said, "From the waters, I am sure. That means Tommen Lannister also met his doom somewhere around here. So no one succeeded in setting foot here."
"It may be. But somehow I feel that this time we will be successful. And then I will be able to write a comprehensive book about Valyria till its Doom." Marwyn said while Aryan smiled at the old man's enthusiasm.
After some time, they reached the shore. Valyria did not disappoint. The impact of the Doom was visible. Where there would have been sandy beaches, what greeted them was a black beach covered by cooled lava but still smoking here and there. As they went forward, the scene continued. Geysers here and there, along with cracks spewing magma, were what greeted them. But most of all, the air was full of ash and poisonous fumes. That was the powerful Doom that destroyed the Valyrian civilization. Even after centuries, the whole place was uninhabitable and would continue to be for perhaps millennia.
Aryan had cast a Bubble-Head Charm on himself along with Marwyn. As they flew, they reached a large ruin.
"Is this the place?" Aryan asked, squinting his eyes.
After thinking for a moment, Marwyn replied, "This must be Tyria. Valyria was said to be surrounded by the Fourteen Flames."
"Let us continue then." Aryan said as the flying carpet speared forward. Soon, what Marwyn said came true. They encountered a big mountainous volcano. Aryan just flew over the mountain. Visibility was low due to the poisonous fumes. Still, with magic aiding them, they pressed forward. When he was sure they had passed the mountains, he started the descent. As they lost altitude, visibility started to get better. Soon, they touched the base.
"Congratulations to us. We are the first to set foot on this land in centuries." Aryan announced as they set foot on the blackened ground. Around them were ruined buildings with their topless towers. Aryan took his wand, and they began their exploration.
Two weeks had passed in the ruins of Valyria. With magic aiding them, they had explored Valyria. Aryan was now a proud owner of scores of Valyrian weapons, including greatswords, longswords, maces, axes, knives, and all. Also, he had acquired three Valyrian steel full-body armors. Not to mention enough gold and gems which may be greater than the combined wealth of all other Great Houses of Westeros.
They had seen many dragon carcasses and destroyed eggs. But he was able to get hold of two dragon eggs which he found in a deep underground vault. The vault had been protected by blood wards using Valyrian magic. So he picked up these two eggs. These eggs turned out to be not only turned to stones but also lifeless; there was not even a faint trace of magic coming from them, so dragons cannot come through these two eggs even by any rituals also. But they were still valuable, so he kept them. They also got several vials of dragon blood and kept them.
Marwyn, on the other hand, was obsessed with knowledge. He was able to salvage many books and tomes from Valyria. But the magic of the Valyrians proved to be inferior to Aryan's own magic. They had to perform rituals to perform magics that Aryan could do with a simple spell. But Aryan learned the method of fusing stones with each other in buildings. Aryan also found some dragon horns, which he kept to study as he found them interesting.
Marwyn was able to uncover how to counter the drawbacks of incest. It turns out that the Valyrians were given a potion made of dragon blood at the time of the wedding, which ensured the removal of all the negative traits from the offspring.
But the biggest achievement was that they learned the secret of forging Valyrian steel. It was a rather simple method. They had seen many forges where they saw dragons tied up to provide dragon fire. The steel was melted and beaten again and again using dragon fire for many months. To complete the process, the final product was cooled in blood, which was taken forcibly from the slaves that the Valyrians had in plenty. The magic of the dragon fire and forcibly taken blood was what gave the Valyrian steel its unique properties. Later, the steel was made into weapons, whose crafting also required its own unique skills.
Both of them completely plundered the whole of Valyria. They didn't leave anything for those who may come here next. They would just find the empty ruins.
Finally, after packing everything they got in their bags, they started their next phase.
"To Volantis?" Marwyn asked.
Aryan answered with a nod, "To Volantis." And they started to return back the way they came at high speed.
Due to their speed as well as their height, they did not see a longship with its black sails sailing into Valyria. But Aryan's actions unknowingly stopped that person from becoming a huge thorn in his side. Now that person will only remain a dangerous man who he can easily deal with anytime he wants.
Winterfell, The North
While some would ask what a Faceless Man was doing here and working as a steward instead of fulfilling the task of the Many-Faced God, Jaqen would say he was doing just that. Because several years ago, the Many-Faced God had commanded them to serve Aryan Stark in a dream. This would have been met with skepticism and later dismissal had it not been that every member of the House of Black and White had the same dream. So when their spies in Braavos informed them of the arrival of the Northern party, Jaqen was tasked to seek and serve Aryan Stark, and he felt honored. And since then, he had been doing that and aiding his Master in his quests to achieve whatever he wanted to.
Jaqen was busy these days. Without his Lord and Master here, it fell to him to run the North. When he had first arrived here, the place, though populated, was still a town. In ten years, everything had changed. Winterfell was now a huge castle surrounded by the city—Wintercity. Thankfully, he was now assisted by two stewards in most things, which gave him enough time to do his spy work. While officially it was Eddard Cailrstark who was in charge of the North, it was him who advised the Regent Eddard Cailrstark. Initially, the Quiet Wolf was not trusting of him as he was a foreigner. But over the years, it had changed. Now, once in two months, Jaqen used to visit Moat Cailin and report to the Regent. And today was also one such occasion.
"Regent Eddard Cailrstark, Lord Aryan Stark has sent you this message." And he gave Eddard Karstark the rolled-up message, the contents of which he already knew.
Flashback Begins
"Hello Jaqen. I hope the North is still secure under your and Uncle Eddard's hands," Aryan asked through their communication mirror.
Jaqen replied, "The man is doing as the Master had asked. The North is still going on good."
"Now, as to the reason I called you—I want three thousand men with enough supply and weapons to reach Lys," Aryan said. He then proceeded to tell Jaqen about the deal with Lys in detail.
"Tell Uncle Eddard about this. I am currently in Valyria as I speak to you. To some, I am on a ship bound to Pentos, while those in the Marauder think that I am still at Lys," Aryan told him.
"The man wishes Lord Stark to remain safe," Jaqen told him.
Flashback Ends
Before coming here, as per Aryan's instruction, Jaqen had requested William Dustin's presence too.
While Eddard started to read the message, William asked Jaqen, "Where is Lord Stark currently?"
"For the others, Lord Aryan Stark is in the Marauder bound to Pentos. But actually, he is still at Lys," Jaqen told him.
William raised an eyebrow at that. "Doing what?"
Jaqen then proceeded to tell William about Aryan's alliance with Lys, their plans about conquering the Disputed Lands.
"By the Old Gods!" Ned swore.
"What happened, Ned?" William asked, worried.
Seeing his worried expression, Ned chuckled and said, "I apologize. I did not mean to startle you. It seems that we all have more relatives across the Narrow Sea."
"Huh?" William asked, confused.
Ned explained to him about the Company of Rose and about the Northern descendants still serving in the sellsword company, and about how Aryan had made a deal with Company of Rose to protect his assets in Essos.
William listened patiently and said, "I am very happy to hear that news. Even more that there are more Dustins across the pond."
"Aryan wishes to aid Lys in helping them gain control of the Disputed Lands. The Lysenes had hired the Company of Rose. He wants us to bolster them by supplying men, weapons, and supplies. In return, we can set up a Trading Center and a very vast tract of fertile land in the Disputed Lands for agriculture," Ned explained.
William leaned back and said, "Essos, huh? Your nephew is really ambitious. What does he need land for?"
"The soil and climate of the North make it difficult to grow certain crops like cotton, rubber, and oilseeds. All of which can be grown in the warm climate of Lys, and in winter food can be grown there. Lord Stark doesn't want to depend on the Riverlands and the Reach for food during winter." Jaqen said.
"We need to do what he requested. Any recommendations?" Ned asked, looking at William Dustin.
With a small laugh, William said, "Your nephew plays the Game better than many others. If I didn't know better, I would be sure that it was him who killed Roose Bolton." Seeing Ned's narrowed eyes, William reassured him, "I am not saying it is a bad thing. All other Kingdoms play the game. Usually, we abstain ourselves from playing the game, content with what we have. But Aryan Stark is the best thing to happen to the North. The world is a better place without the Leech Lord, a fucking traitor conspiring with the Lannisters."
"I agree with you on that, William. Even though I am Regent of the North, I realized quite early that Aryan knows what he is doing. He plays the Game of Thrones and plays to win it. That is why I left the North in his hands as soon as Moat Cailin was ready. When he was small, it was him who told me about many of the projects like the Northern Canal and the Wolfbay, etc. At that time, I did not see their importance. But today, we do. Similarly, many of the new projects he has started, I don't know the heads or tails of what he wants to achieve. Everyone I have met thinks how their actions will benefit them right now, but Aryan... majority of times he thinks how his actions will benefit him in the long run. I have faith in him, and I am sure that we will reap its benefits in the future," Ned said. Shaking his head, he asked, "So what do you say about what Aryan asked?"
"We cannot just send our men directly to Lys. Others may take notice of such a movement. We will then have to answer unwanted questions," Jaqen warned.
"The High Steward is right," William said. "That is why we will send our ships in such a way that it will not attract attention. Lord Aryan has now set up small ports in each of our lands for the fishermen. But I am sure they can host one ship there at least. We need to transport our men in longships to Braavos, Pentos, and a few other cities—perhaps even King's Landing. From there, we could use our galleys and drop the men in the Disputed Lands."
"Quite ingenious, my Lord," Jaqen praised.
Ned agreed. "It seems we have reached an agreement. Now, let us start the work."