The morning sun bled across the ashen horizon of Valyr'Nox, painting the shattered skyline in molten gold. Smoke curled lazily from the oldest wounds in the earth, drifting above the broken towers like ghosts reluctant to leave. The land was quiet—not dead, not hostile—just waiting in the way old things do, when time has made them patient.
Kaine stood at the highest balcony of the ruined citadel, his cloak shifting in the warm wind rolling off the Smoking Sea. Below him sprawled the valley—a vast expanse of fractured stone, glassy rivers, scorched plains, and jagged cliffs where ancient Valyrian architecture still clung stubbornly to the skeletons of collapsing mountains.
Sereyna stepped up beside him, brushing ash from her cheek. "It looks bigger in daylight."
Behind them, Vaerynna stretched her wings, now openly visible with no mortals around to hide from. Sunlight shimmered across her obsidian-black scales.
"It still smells like a grave," Vaerynna's telepathic voice rippled through their minds.
"It was one," Kaine replied. "But not anymore."
He lifted his hand.
A shadow detached itself from him—twisting, condensing—until a winged creature formed, all sharp lines and drifting smoke. It gave a silent shriek before blasting upward into the sky.
Sereyna watched it rise. "You're scouting?"
Kaine nodded. "I need sight from above."
They waited as the creature climbed through the haze. When its vision linked with Kaine's, his eyes darkened slightly.
Jagged coastlines. Deepwater inlets perfect for shipyards. High cliffs matched with natural chokepoints. Old aqueduct lines buried beneath ash. Sections of the land still warm from magical aftershock. Enough room to build not just a city—
—but an empire.
Sereyna whistled softly. "This… is a lot. Even for you."
"It will take years," she muttered. "Decades. Maybe centuries."
"At least twenty years," Vaerynna added, staring down at the ruins.
Kaine shook his head. "Weeks."
Both turned slowly.
"...Kaine," Sereyna said carefully, "you can't rebuild a city in weeks."
"Not unless you want it to look like a child's drawing," Vaerynna scoffed.
Kaine raised his hand again.
The light dimmed.
Dozens—then hundreds—of silhouettes rose from the ground like ink poured upward. Some were tall and broad-shouldered. Some were robed. Some carried phantom tools. Others had the bearing of commanders, scholars, or architects.
Agents. Souls bound to his service. Shaped from shadow, memory, and purpose.
Sereyna swallowed. "That's… a lot more than last time."
"I called only those with relevant skills," Kaine said.
"You could build a kingdom with this," Vaerynna muttered.
"I intend to."
The first agent—a tall, armored figure whose eyes glowed pale white—knelt.
"You will clear the citadel," Kaine commanded.
It dissolved into motion.
Another knelt.
"Rebuild the pillars. Restore load-bearing walls. Reinforce the central hall."
A group of robed silhouettes approached.
"You will plan the outer districts. Map every pathway. Carve foundations for structures, marketplaces, and forges."
A cluster of heavily armored agents stepped forward.
"You will design the defensive grid. Walls. Gates. Fortifications. Magical wards. Ensure no foreign eye ever sees Valyr'Nox unless I allow it."
A final group appeared—sleek, precise shapes resembling shipwrights.
"You will begin drafting warships. One thousand. Steel-bound. Reinforced."
Vaerynna froze.
"Warships?! To fight dragons?!"
Kaine nodded. "Yes."
"EXCUSE YOU."
Sereyna burst out laughing.
"Vaerynna, he isn't going to fight you with them."
"He BETTER not," Vaerynna snapped. "I will eat his shipyards."
"They are not for you," Kaine said, deadpan.
"GOOD."
He continued without pause.
"Use the residual magic of the land," he ordered his agents. "Accelerate crop growth. Stabilize soil. Prepare areas for learning halls, healing wards, and forgeworks."
Sereyna blinked. "Learning halls? For who?"
"For those who will one day live here."
She stared at him. "You're building… a real city."
He looked at the valley again.
"I am building the future."
Vaerynna hummed. "Let the world tremble."
"No," Kaine said quietly. "Let it watch."
The citadel shook—not violently, but like a creature stretching after a long sleep. Pillars reassembled under shadowed hands. Broken staircases knitted together. Roof stones floated upward as agents re-laid them with supernatural precision.
Sereyna watched with wide eyes. "Okay… I take it back. Weeks is possible."
Kaine walked along the balcony. "We begin with the castle. Then expand outward."
"A proper keep," Vaerynna added. "With towers tall enough for me to sunbathe."
Sereyna snorted. "You just want a nap platform."
"Correct."
Down below, several agents were already clearing ash from the main courtyard, revealing long-forgotten sigils carved into obsidian tiles.
Sereyna moved closer and crouched. "These symbols… old Valyrian?"
"Older," Kaine said. "This citadel predates the dragonlords. It was carved when magic ran wild and the world was… louder."
Vaerynna flicked her tail. "He's being poetic again."
"It was quieter when you couldn't speak," Sereyna muttered.
"I CAN ALWAYS SPEAK."
"Not out loud."
"LOUDER SOON."
Sereyna made a face. "Don't encourage her."
Kaine ignored both, watching the valley.
Everything was moving. Everything was shifting. Everything was waking.
A tremor rolled beneath them—deep, ancient, not dangerous.
Sereyna tensed. "Is that normal?"
"Yes," Kaine said. "The land is aligning."
Vaerynna added, "Like a beast accepting its rider."
"Something like that," he admitted.
Sereyna groaned. "My life used to be simple."
"Simple is boring," Vaerynna replied.
"And dangerous."
"Everything is dangerous. Kaine attracts danger like meat attracts wolves."
Sereyna elbowed her. "Accurate, but rude."
Kaine stepped inside the half-restored throne hall. Pale sunlight poured through the shattered ceiling as agents reconstructed the archways.
Sereyna followed. "Do we have… rooms? Beds? Anything?"
"I will summon artisans," Kaine said.
She paused. "Wait. You mean people who built things in their past life?"
"Yes."
Vaerynna puffed her chest. "The old artisans! The ones who built palaces from mountains!"
Sereyna blanched. "Palaces from what?"
Vaerynna sat proudly. "Spite. Mostly."
"That… makes sense for this place."
Kaine summoned more shadows—sleek, fine-boned silhouettes carrying phantom chisels and tools.
"You will construct quarters. Three for now. Expand later."
Sereyna sighed. "Thank you."
Vaerynna added, "Mine needs a roof that withstands heat."
"You melt roofs," Sereyna countered.
"Not on purpose."
By dusk, the citadel had changed dramatically.
Walls rose where rubble had been. Paths cleared. Dark stone polished under unseen hands. Balconies rebuilt. Archways straightened.
Sereyna leaned against a half-restored pillar, sweaty, tired, and stunned. "This is insane."
Kaine surveyed the work with a calm gaze. "Tomorrow we begin the southern district."
"Already?"
"Yes."
Vaerynna yawned. "…I vote we sleep first."
"For once," Sereyna said, "I agree with her."
Kaine considered… then nodded.
They walked toward the newly cleared courtyard.
Ash rolled softly under their steps.
The ruins of Valyr'Nox stood silent. Not dead. Not cursed. Just waiting.
And now—at last—claimed.