0 B.D.
Kael sat with Errine on the balcony, overlooking their trade city—the only city open to the outside world. Even if only the harbor and a single district were accessible. Kael had made that very clear: no elves were to be seen. The harbor was run by the people of Naath, or freed slaves of the second generation and beyond—loyal, dependable.
Kael sighed. "I'll be heading to Naath soon…" He glanced at Errine. "…Luna will probably go to Daenys again. Tell Erlef to come along if you see her."
Errine looked up from her reports, swirling her wine. "Why do you do this every two years? … What are you hoping for?"
Kael clinked his glass lightly against hers. "I told you about the Doom. It will change everything. For us especially. We'll be able to step out into the world more openly. I don't want to hold our people back… but Valyria is too powerful."
He scanned the surroundings, searching for Luna… and sighed.
"Valyria has over 300 dragons—visible ones. I don't know what else they might be hiding. It's always better when a kingdom holds a trump card."
Errine chuckled. "Like us… dragons… phoenixes… great eagles… magic…"
Kael nodded, gazing over the harbor. "Exactly… you can never be too careful. Are they still trying to bribe our people? Cause unrest? Sneak onto the island?"
Errine's aura turned ice-cold as she looked toward the septons and Faith militants.
"They never learn. Sending back the heads of their septons didn't warn them at all…" She took a sip. "I'm always tempted to burn Oldtown to the ground. That would solve the problem of those arrogant ink-blood leeches."
Kael chuckled. "Patience… In about 90 years, the Targaryens will conquer Westeros. Give it another 40… then you can let your anger out."
Errine smiled faintly. "If there's one thing I have, it's patience… otherwise I wouldn't have endured you three for 200 years." She laughed freely.
Kael stood, kissed her, and walked off. "See you in half a year. Don't burn the place down."
---
Kael stood before the World Tree on Ember Isle. It towered hundreds of meters high, pulsing with magic, the air itself shimmering around it. Small woodland homes rested between its branches.
A young wood elf approached, looking up in awe. "Eternal King… going to Naath again?" Kael smirked slightly. That title—one of Erlef's "brilliant" ideas. He really needed a better name… but as long as she was amused. He simply nodded and stepped through the portal leading to the World Tree on Naath.
---
Kael stood at his observation point, gazing toward Valyria. Every evening, during the half-years he spent here—every two years since the Targaryens had arrived in Westeros—he sent his magic in that direction. He didn't know when it would happen. Or how. But he would be ready.
Then it came.
Or… it didn't.
No wind—on an island that was always windy.
No sound.
No animals.
The sea… silent.
Kael turned sharply.
"You—bring the mana towers to full power! Full defensive readiness!"
Then to a spell-singer:
"You—check the World Tree portal. If it's stable, send a messenger to Errine, Erlef, or Luna. Full defenses immediately. No mercy for unrest in the harbor. We cannot afford mistakes."
He rushed back to the cliff, extending his magic once more toward Valyria.
An hour passed.
Then—
A blinding yellow light.
Then red.
Then blue.
"Down! Cover your ears!" he shouted.
The shockwaves followed.
The explosions were so immense that even here, they shook his very core.
Stupid… standing out here like this.
Like watching a nuclear blast without protection.
It felt like forever—
but it was barely thirty seconds.
Kael rose on unsteady legs. Chaos everywhere. Fallen trees.
"Well… this will be a mess…"
He looked toward Valyria—
and his breath caught.
The island itself was gone. Only massive pillars of fire remained, in colors no fire should have. If he didn't know what it meant…
he would have called it beautiful.
He exhaled slowly.
He needed to get to Errine. To Erlef.
And Luna…
she was likely with Daenys, calming her.
Kael clenched his fist.
"We need a plan."