The Sunset Sea is vast. No man has ever seen all its waters, but dragons have. To man, it's seen as a watery desert with little to no islands, and no civilization. Nothing. That is unless you know where to look.

A dragon can fly so high that hundreds upon hundreds of leagues can be seen from its naked eyes. If, of course, the legends are to be believed. It is written in old sailors' journals that there's an island owned by dragons of Old Valyria. Ancient ones, bigger than Balerion the Black Dread. Some accounts say there's only one dragon, others say three, many say hundreds.

Hundreds of sailors in the past have tried to venture to this dragon island and hundreds have perished, they are stopped by many things, storms, giant sea creatures, poor wind conditions, and madness from the never-ending ocean. Those lucky few, or unlucky depending on who you ask, that step foot on its black sand is never seen again. They are only legends on ancient documents. No one knows the official name of the island, there may not even be one. The name it has been given is told through stories, The Black Rock.

The Black Rock sits in The Sunset Sea, a vast, open ocean. The island has sandy beaches that are black as night. Farther out in the water surrounding the island lies a graveyard of sunken ships. Whalers, Longships, Galleys, Dromons, Great Cogs, and a handful of Carracks. The ones that made it to shore are burnt black with dragon fire. The black sand riddles with metal armor, swords, spears, and charred bones. The burnt black ones that were able to be beached are now home to the wildlife of the island. The island has one very distinct feature, a massive dormant volcano.

Besides the massive black dormant volcano, the island of black rock is lush with vegetation, making it a type of green no ordinary painter can come up with. Many plants, trees, and animals from old Valeria call this island home. Of course, the main animals are the dragons.

Wild berries and grapes that have been said to make very special wine that has been lost to time since the fall of Valeria call the black rock their home. Herbs for special potions and healing ointments were so valuable that men would sell all they owned just to get a few drops to save themselves.

Such hidden treasure is worth more than kingdoms. So tempting for those who don’t know any better. Every few generations of new sailors think about venturing forth to this strange and mysterious island. And to those that do, only grow the graveyard of burnt ships and black bones surrounding the island.

Facing east, the volcano has a man-made extension of the beach. A mixture of black sand melded into the Valyrian stone brick pathway. The pathway is roughly sixty yards long from the sand to the volcano, and forty yards wide. Over the centuries, the pathway and area around it have become riddled with burnt ships and charred bones. Metal armor fused to the corpses, and swords melted to the stone, making them a permanent fixture.

The pathway leads to a massive cave entrance made of Valyrian stone. Two black stone pillars sit on both sides, facing east. The pillars are decorated with a large silver dragon, a golden phoenix, and a midnight blue background. The centuries have tarnished the metal works, but the blue backgrounds still gleamed in the daylight sun.

The tunnel leading into the volcano is much larger than the cave entrance it leads from as if it was designed for something much larger and was never completed. The walls are covered in scratch marks, pockmarked walls from ancient fighting. The outlines of bodies are too numerous to count, scorched and melted, now part of the walls.

There is light at the end of this massive tunnel. High in the wall sit fireplace torches, they lay black and cold, waiting to be lit again. In Between every few torches sits a small pathway, no bigger than the average man. Many collapsed with bones sticking out from the rubble. Banners hang high on the wall, dusty and old. But still vibrant as the day they were hung. On them, a silver dragon entwined with a golden phoenix on a field of midnight blue. The farther the tunnel goes, the darker it gets, the light slowly getting brighter at the end.

The end of this tunnel opens up to a massive hall carved out of this dormant volcano. Black stone covers the walls from floor to ceiling, all the way up to the skyline of the volcano’s opening that lights the massive hall. Ornate decorations linger on the walls and floor of this massive chamber. Shelves with dozens upon dozens of books. In the middle, sits a massive pool of steaming water, kept hot by the dormant underground magma.

There are three massive openings in a triangle formation facing each other. One-hundred and fifty feet high and ninety feet wide. On the left, a large crimson Ruby Sits atop the opening. On the right, a large piece of quarts, milky white. The middle opening is different, larger than the other two, sits a blue sapphire, as big as a wagon wheel.

The earth feels as silent as a tomb, when it awakens. Roaring to life. Old tables began to creak and groan with every movement. Ancient books on bookshelves fall, hitting the floor with a thud. Candles fall from the walls. The shaking seems to go on for an eternity. Then, it stops. The hall fell silent as a tomb again. Not a sound.

The cave to the left, with the Red Ruby, is home to a dragon. Collared in shiny crimson red, its scales look to be made of Rubies. This dragon is curled up, snoring softly. In a deep dream, not feeling the earth shake. Above it are loose rocks from years of wear and tear waiting to fall. The earth shaked just enough to set them loose. Breaking loose with a crack, the rocks fall in just the right way to hit the crimson dragon in the head. Hard.

Its eyes shoot open, and without thinking, it quickly raises its head, hitting the wall with a hard thump. “Thousand Hells!” “What now! I just got comfortable!” it says, quickly searching its chambers for what woke it from its deep slumber to see it. “Oh fine, I’ll get up. You stupid rock.” It flicks the rock with its giant paw into the back corner with such speed it could tear a man in half. The rock stuck into the wall, now its new home.

Slowly, but surely, the dragon begins to get up on all four of its legs and starts to stretch. With little Cracks and Creaks from its stiff joints. Slowly, it begins to walk out of its cave, stretching with each movement. “You would think I could get a decent 50 years of sleep, but no. I have to be woken up by some stupid rocks,” it muttered angrily.

The dragon, now out of its chamber, stands on its hind legs stretched high and mighty. Head stretched high in the air, arms reaching out for the emptiness from the room. Now fully elongated, its full length is double the height of the chamber opening. Its tail stretched out back into the cave, quivering as its muscles became nimble from its long sleep.

The stiffest parts of it were its wings, from being curled up for so many years. The numbness irritates the beast, missing the wind flying in between its wings. With the rest of its body finally stretched out and nimble, slowly it moves its wings, in and out, little by little. With a sudden burst, the wings fly open with all its renewed strength. Years of dust and bits poof off, revealing a beautiful crimson color. The shine at first was almost blinding.

Still tired, it raises a massive paw to its mouth to yawn, five black razor-sharp claws shine in the sunlight. After, it examines the great hall that has been its home for many, many years. Many books have fallen off their shelves, ancient scrolls rolled all over the place. Now annoyed seeing the mess, “The hall is a mess now, just what I need to start my morning”

Looking up at the skyline, it judges the time of day. “Well, afternoon, I suppose.” Feeling parched, it walks over to the steaming pool, the dragon leans down and takes a long drink of hot water. Feeling it wash down its neck to heat its center. Coming up to get some air, something feels off. Looking around the great hall, no one was with it. It was something in the air, “Yes”, it thought. Something it had not felt in a long time.

Walking around the pool, he stares up at the milky quartz stone, shining in the afternoon sun. Walking over to the front of the chamber entrance, it calls for someone or something. “Maegorion. Time to get up, sister. We have been asleep for too long. The earth shakes.”

“Sister?”

Not hearing an answer, the dragon bangs on the wall to awaken the creature inside. It gets an answer, its tone of voice is much different from its own. A light feminine, sweet voice, made for a singer. “What do you want Vhaegorion?” Annoyed, “I want to sleep!” The voice exclaims softly but affirming.

“I don’t care if you want to sleep. Something is off”

A skeleton flies by the dragon’s head. Then another, hitting it in the face. “You may be a male, but I’m older and bigger. I can still kick your tail!” “Now fly off!” Hearing the anger rise in his sister’s voice, he backs up as quickly as he came to the cave.

Leaving his sister to sleep, he walks over to the middle cave, the massive blue sapphire gleaming brightly. Looking up at the jewel, he slowly lifts his front arm to knock on the front wall to the entrance. A deep female voice comes from the cave. The age. The experience of combat can be heard with each word.

“What is it little brother, you know I don’t like to be woken. But it is too late for that now. So please explain yourself.” the voice shivers down the crimson dragon scales. They may be kin, but she still scares him.

“Something is amiss, sister. I feel it in the air. It feels familiar” Vhaegorion looks around the room, still empty. “Do you fee-”

“Yes. I do. Almost the same feeling since the day Valeria fell. But not of danger. It feels.”

There was a long pause before the mysterious voice from the dark depths of the cave spoke.

“Good”

“Exactly!” The crimson dragon, with its energy of youth coming back to it, exclaims. “What would you have me do, Rhaelys? You lead us as the last great dragon of House Maeryn. We’re presumably the last dragons from Valyria.”

The seconds felt like hours to Vhaegorion, making him anxious, he wanted to search for this feeling, a feeling of home, a feeling of familiarity. But since he was the youngest, he couldn't just go out and look. He had a responsibility here first. Until he's given the go-ahead.

“First, we need food.” the voice finally said, calming the young dragon. “It has been too long since the three of us last ate, search the ocean for food. As you do, scout the area for anything out of the ordinary. And come back if you do.”

He feels the eyes on him now, digging deep into his flesh.

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“Do you understand? No going forth on your own.” The order stabbed deep into him. But he understands the reasoning.

“Yes, sister,” he says as he gives the cave entrance a bow of his head. He turns and walks softly, but quickly, excitedly. Upon reaching the exit cave, Rhaelys calls him. “Vhaegorion. Be careful.”

She was just walking out of the cave, he hadn't heard her footsteps. Most likely some spell he wasn't taught yet. Lifting her head high, she was looking down at him from her cave. Her full body was still inside. She was standing fully up, her shoulders barely touching the edges. Her neck came out at an arch, her neck alone was 80 feet from torso to head, thick and scaly. Her head is as big or bigger than 2 carriages, it has a type of beauty to it. Natural. As a sapphire. Her scales looked like individual sapphires, each meticulously carved by a highly trained stone sculptor. Her horns were kept neat and sharp, impressive for her age.

Vhaegorion bows his head in acknowledgment.

He turns back to the exit, the hall entrance has two holes on both sides, making for a dragon to put its face in. He levels his head with the first hole and sticks part of his face in and sucks in a large amount of air. His mouth heats up, the fire awakening after many, many years. He roars, shooting fire into the first hole, bright red. He could hear the faint screeching of small animals inside the long hole give a final call, before being turned to ash.

As his crimson-red fire rushed through the torch, fireplaces on the walls burst with light. After all these centuries, they glow bright, lighting the way out of the hall. He stops his onslaught of fire, pulls his face out, goes over to the hole, and breathes fire into it. With the exit hallway now lit up with the once-slumbering torches, he makes his way through. Feet-pushing dust-up with each step.

Vhaegorion takes a few final steps out of the cave, and what he sees is almost breathtaking. The ocean looks so much bluer since the last time he saw it. It feels like a lifetime ago he was standing here breathing fire on some invaders, he still has the scars on his right front foot from that pikemen getting the better of him. His ashes and melted armor are still in the stone. Looking to his left and right in front of the cave entrance to see any easy prey. Nothing. Taking a long look out into the ocean, scanning for ocean creatures popping their head up to the surface. Still nothing.

“I guess I shall have to go up and out more for a better view,” he says to himself, confident in his abilities. He readies himself on the black stone pathway, he stretches and spreads his mighty wings. Going from a speedy walk, then gallop. Now into a full gallop, he jumps and flaps his wings, pushing all the sand and dirt off the stone.

The wind. It feels fantastic, all the dust from his long slumber coming out from under his scales feels like nothing has ever felt before. As if he was a renewed dragon, given the gods' blessings. He gets the urge to go higher, putting all his might into his wings, and he flaps. With each movement of his large wings, he feels the force of the air being pushed down. Gaining speed and altitude.

Reaching the clouds, the air is fresh, it has almost a sweetness to it. A soft smell of the Jasmine flower. The smell reminds Vhaegorion of Valyria. So many things he missed from then. Home. The training grounds at Castle Ash. Flying over the port city of Draconys. All of it.

As he reminisces, still flapping his wings high in the sky, something in the water catches his eye. Looking down hard into the ocean. He spots the prey! Two whales, a sperm and a humpback whale, both around a hundred yards from each other. Orienting his large crimson body into a downward angle, he stops flapping his wings and begins to rapidly descend. Pulls his wings in for more speed. Gaining more speed, moving through the air faster and faster, as the wind moves between his scales the air vibrates making a whining sound, almost like a screeching an animal makes when attacked. The faster he goes, the louder the sound gets.

He reaches the water, splashing headfirst into the blue water with grace. The two unsuspecting whales are deep. In a swift motion, Vhaegorion opens his wings and pushes himself through the water with such speed. Legs moving with each pull. He decides on the closest prey to catch, the sperm whale. The whale notices the crimson dragon and tries to flee for its life, but it's not fast enough.

With his front legs outreaching, Vhaegorion digs the razor-sharp claws into the whale, grabbing and puncturing its flesh in its side. Stabbing its heart and killing it. Using his tail to balance his body with the now added weight of the sperm whale, he reorients himself facing the direction of the humpback. The humpback whale hears the final scream and pain of the sperm whale. It pushes itself into action to get as far as it can, away from this apex predator. But its large bulk does not let it get the high speeds it needs to escape its doom. Vhaegorion, wiping his hind legs, grabs the humpback, and with a squeeze, he twists and breaks its back. With a loud crunch, its bones now shattered, he takes a claw and punctures its heart, killing the whale.

With his two prey in his front and back legs, he races for the surface. He gathers enough speed to be fully launched into the air to get enough clearance to flap his mighty wings. The ocean gets clearer and clearer with each movement. Breaking the ocean's surface, he takes a fresh breath of air and begins to flap his wings rapidly to get altitude. The dead whales bound in his paws with each flap of wings.

Upon reaching an altitude of six hundred feet, prey still in hand, he begins to get his bearings in order. He has flown quite some time before getting his prey and swam much longer it seems. Judging by how far the sun has lowered, he has been out for hours hunting. Looking southwest towards home, then to the northeast. He sees something odd in the distance. The last time he was out this far from the island was some 60 years prior to get more food, and no land was out this far.

But before his eyes was. Land. Yes, a great landmass going as far as he can see. Before, just what seemed like an endless ocean now has land. Vhaegorion strains his eyes to see even closer to this mass, he sees. Towers? Of glass? He remembers back to Valyria that there were towers, but they were made of stone. He utters an old High Valyrian spell, one in the tongue of the founders, “Magnify”.

A subtle shimmering sound comes from the air, and a bright red circle with ancient High Valyrian symbols appears in front of his eyes, wherever he looks the image would be greatly zoomed in. What he sees shocks him. There are humans in these glass towers, actual humans. A site he hasn't seen since Valyria.

Looking in awe, he notices more humans on the ground outside these giant glass towers. Some were in what looked like carriages, but no sign of horses. Quite strange. With this amazing scene, Vhaegorion almost dropped the whales he worked to find.

“I must tell the others of this amazing sight,” he told himself, still looking closely at this strange landmass. Just as he’s about to turn around for home, something else catches his eye. What looks like a line of mist leading towards the landmass, farther northeast. It looks to be in the house colors. Silver and gold with blue in the middle.

“What could this mean?” Vhaegorion thinks to himself at the sight of this mist. One thing was for sure, this was much above his knowledge.

“I must Tell Rhaelys and Maegorion! Quickly!”

The great hall was starting to look much cleaner and proper. Concentrating eyes on each book. Rhaelys utters a word in old High Valyrian. “Lyft” “Place” The final book takes its place next to the many others. She looks around the hall, satisfied with her work, now pristine.

Not satisfied with the lighting in the hall, she says “Light” in old High Valyrian. One by one candles on the walls and tables light in a stream, like water washing on the beach. Satisfied with the lighting, she decides to get started on her journal. One that she has been writing each time they are woken up, whether it be for food, intruders, or the occasional bad weather.

Walking over to the pool of steaming water sits a massive desk with a book not made for men. Breathing the steam of the pool makes her feel more comfortable. The book is massive, right next to it sits a specially made quill pen made of wood. Staring at the pen, she says “Lyft” in the ancient language. The pen begins to levitate, dipping its tip into the bowl of ink, and starts to write.

“Events of the presumed date, June first, four hundred years since the Fall of Valyria Freehold”

As Rhaelys writes down the events of the afternoon. Maegorion finally comes out of her cave. Half asleep. Yawning. “Good afternoon sister. How does the writing go?” she says to her much older and bigger sibling. Without looking up at her, “Just getting started, you almost slept through the day, sleep well?”

“I’m sorry. Not all of us are morning dragons.”

Rhaelys gives a slight chuckle.

“So, What do you think the small earthquake was? The gods are finally ending the world?”

“No. It's something else” “Check the archives for anything, there must be something about it”

“Yes, Sister” Maegorion gives a slight bow of her head and walks over to the massive bookshelf. Her white scales looked freshly polished.

Vhaegorion flaps his wings faster than he has ever before, making it back to the island in record time. Deciding instead of going through the main cave entrance he exited, he flies to the top of the dormant volcano, clouds blocking the hole at the top. Having to use his senses, he almost hits the side of the volcano. Startled, he drops both of his prey he worked too hard to find, leaving them to fall to the ground. He now has better balance and control without them. He notices the volcano top, gaining speed, he whooshes down into the hole towards the main hall.

Noticing a loud sound of wind, both Maegorion and Rhaelys see their youngest brother gliding down with such speed, that they fear he might hit the side and fall. “Slow down, you fool!” Maegorion yells at him. Startled, Vhaegorion flaps his wings to slow himself as quickly as he can, just feet from the floor, he gently lands on all four of his paws.

“Have you lost your mind!” Maegorion questions, “You could have flattened yourse-”

“Silence Maegorion!” Rhaelys commands with her booming voice, echoing throughout the volcano.

Looking down at her young brother, “Now, tell us what you clearly rushed here for.”

Vhaegorion, panting “Land! Buildings of glass! Humans in them! Bigger than anything from the Valyrian freehold! Hundreds of them, maybe more!”

“Go on.” Rhaelys moves her head down to Vhaegorions level, now intrigued.

Looking at both his sisters, “There was something else, like a stream, a misty line leading towards the landmass, farther northeast. It was in our house colors. Silver and gold with blue in the middle.”

House Maeryn was the first major house in Valyria to adopt the Westeros model of house colors and banners; others were going to as well. But then the Doom happened. The records of each house and the whole history of Valyria were lost to history, all that’s left of that history is here.

Deep in thought, Rhaelys thought hard about what these events could mean. Then it hit her. She has seen misty colors like that centuries ago when the doom happened. An old memory, one she had pushed back in her mind.

“It could mean he’s returned.” She says to her younger siblings.

“Him?” “But you said he was dead! Along with his mother. The foreign one who took the heir and vanished. How could he still even be alive? They died centuries ago.” Maegorion argues, expelling this possibility.

“You forget yourself!” Rhaelys snaps back at her.

“We are the dragons of House Maeryn! If there’s a chance of one of our human brethren being alive, we must take whatever lead we get. Especially if it’s the heir to our house.”

“We must prepare and gather our strength. We will leave in 6 moons to see if it is our heir and if not. We burn whoever got our hopes up to ash!”

Maegorion and Vhaegorion begin to discuss all they will need to take with them. The journey may be long. Food, maps, books, etc. Rhaelys goes back to the journal to finish and add the new accounts for the day. She just wants to jump for joy at the prospect of the heir being alive. She looks up to calm herself.

Likewise, she looks at the upper wall, and on it sits two banners hanging. One on the right, House Maeryn, with its blue midnight field background, silver dragon, and gold phoenix intertwined.

She looks to the banner on the left, the foreigners’ houses. The alliance was supposed to start anew for the countries. A kingdom and a freehold coming together to prosper. A memory comes back to her, the wedding ceremony between the soon-to-be lord of House Maeryn, Vaelarys Maeryn. And Princess Lucia.

The banner was quite simple. A white field with a green hand in the middle. She studies the banner as she relives that night. The house's words come to her. She begins to say the words, almost like a prayer, hoping to guide the long-lost heir. “Spring Forth” And she believed King Garse VII Gardener was the king at the time, and his title was “King of the Reach. Lord of Highgarden. Defender of Marches. Protector of the Mander. Stalwart Hand of the South”