Lo Quen leapt down from the dragon's back and carefully wrapped the three dragon egg fossils, still cold to the touch, in a thick cloth.
These stones, which the Faceless Men had failed to hatch even unto death, now fell neatly into his hands.
He spared the ravaged site no further attention, turned, and left.
Before long, news spread through the silent, colossal city of Asshai: the Dragonlord had arrived and, with thunderous force, purged the Shadowbinders who had colluded with the Faceless Men.
The revelation sent shockwaves through the city.
Countless Shadowbinders and Sorcerers whispered in the darkness, exchanging fragments of information in hushed tones.
Lo Quen could not have cared less. Following the list provided by Melisandre, he moved with ruthless efficiency, eradicating every remaining Shadowbinder implicated in the affair.
As for the rest of Asshai's inhabitants—whether Shadowbinders still lost in their obscure magical research or the many other people who clung to this place—when faced with the crushing power Lo Quen displayed, all of them made the sensible choice to remain silent.
So long as their fundamental research was left untouched, they had little interest in who now ruled above their heads.
Lo Quen himself had no intention, for the time being, of completely purging these reclusive occult scholars. As long as they kept to themselves and did not provoke him, he was content to let things remain as they were.
He left behind a legion strong enough to garrison Asshai, maintaining order and keeping the city under watch. Then, personally leading the main force, he boarded the fleet anchored in the harbor.
The ships set sail northward, heading upstream along the legendary River of Ashes, bound for the even more mysterious and unfathomable Shadow Lands.
At night, the River of Ashes revealed its true, unsettling nature.
The fleet glided over waters as black as ink, broken only by the ships' passage, which stirred faint points of ghostly green phosphorescence, like countless wronged spirits peering up from the riverbed.
On both sides rose towering, dim river valleys. The cliffs were steep, jagged, and littered with bizarre rock formations.
Above, the sky was forever shrouded in thick gloom, devoid of stars or moon. Only the River of Ashes itself emitted a wan green glow, barely lighting the path ahead.
In the cracks along the cliff faces grew vast stretches of pale, withered ghost grass.
Even on nights without wind, the grass swayed faintly, as though it possessed a life of its own.
Lo Quen stood alone at the bow of the flagship, gazing into this desolate land, his expression deep and unreadable.
Qyburn and Marwyn soon approached and took their places beside him.
"Your Grace…"
Qyburn broke the silence, pointing toward the barren shores on either side. "Judging by the conditions required for ghost grass to grow, this land… once witnessed the extinction of life on an unimaginable scale. This was not a natural die-off, but a massive blood sacrifice directed by the monarchs of the Great Empire of the Dawn. Its horror likely rivals the Doom of Valyria."
Lo Quen nodded slightly, his voice low. "Indeed. If the Bloodstone Emperor's account is true, then the territories ruled by the successive emperors of the Great Empire of the Dawn far exceeded what the histories record. This place, the Shadow Lands, was very likely one of their vast sites for conducting forbidden blood magic experiments."
At the mention of "blood magic experiments," a muscle twitched on Marwyn's rugged face, a complicated emotion flickering in his eyes.
Ever since he had learned from Lo Quen what lay deep within the Great Sand Sea—especially the Bloodstone Emperor's own admission of the Dragon's brutal origins, and the countless atrocities committed by the emperors of the Great Empire of the Dawn—this well-traveled Archmaester had been shaken to his core.
Not only because his ancestors included Velaryon, but because he had devoted his entire life to the pursuit of knowledge and the unraveling of the world's mysteries.
He had never imagined that the most powerful magical creature of all had been born from cruel experiments carried out on an empress.
Nor had he ever conceived that such a dark conspiracy lay hidden behind the heroic epics passed down through the ages.
Marwyn drew a deep breath, forcing himself to pull away from those shattering truths and bring his focus back to the present.
"Your Grace, regarding Stygai—based on the scattered records and legends I pieced together in my early years, that City of Corpses is likely far more than an abandoned laboratory or a graveyard. It almost certainly conceals the core clues to the Bloodstone Emperor's final and most forbidden experiments. And…"
He paused, lowering his voice even further. "Given the relationship between the Amethyst Empress and the Bloodstone Emperor, it is very likely that momentous secrets tied directly to the Amethyst Empress herself are sealed there as well."
"The Amethyst Empress…"
Lo Quen repeated the name softly, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes. "If that's true, then this journey to Stygai just became far more interesting."
The truth hidden behind the struggle of ice and fire was growing clearer to him.
If he could uncover more clues about the Amethyst Empress, or about the one pulling the strings from the shadows, within that city of the dead, he might finally grasp the key to stopping that dreadful ritual.
The fleet sailed along the green-glowing River of Ashes for less than two days before the view ahead suddenly opened up, yet became even more ominous.
Here, the river valley widened dramatically. Two tributaries converged, forming a vast stretch of water.
And upon a lofty plateau cradled by the two rivers, a city rose into view.
Stygai!
It stood like a colossal, silent black tombstone at the very heart of a world steeped in death.
The city's buildings shared the same origin as those of Asshai, all constructed from that light-devouring black stone.
Yet its style was far older and more rugged, filled with harsh angles and jagged spires.
No lights burned anywhere within the city. It lay in utter stillness. Only a few dim, gloomy rays of daylight, lucky enough to pierce the eternal murk overhead, fell weakly upon the black stone streets and towers, lending the scene an even more unsettling air.
There was not the faintest trace of life here, only death frozen in place and shadows that clung to everything.
Lo Quen frowned.
The journey thus far had been unexpectedly smooth.
Aside from the inherent eeriness of the River of Ashes and the oppressive environment, none of the anticipated monster attacks had appeared.
This abnormal calm instead stirred a sense of unease within him.
Without hesitation, he ordered the fleet to dock and the army to disembark.
He personally mounted Blooddancer and led the elite Dragon Soul Guards up a long stone staircase. It wound upward from the depths of the river valley, its surface slick with moss and cracked by age, leading straight toward the city of Stygai on the high ground.
Daenerys and the other queens rode their own dragons, circling overhead to keep watch.
...
Once inside Stygai, he found the city gripped by an even more suffocating silence.
The streets were empty, broken only by the wailing of wind rushing through gaps in the stone.
Most of the buildings lining the roads had collapsed, leaving behind nothing but blackened skeletal frames.
Blooddancer, Ashshadow, and the other great dragons rumbled uneasily in the air, their dragon eyes sweeping the ground below with wary focus, as if they sensed some unseen threat.
Lo Quen keenly felt the abnormal fluctuations of magic permeating the air.
His brow tightened as he signaled the army to remain on high alert.
Just as the vanguard pushed deeper toward the city's central district, the sound of the wind around them suddenly grew shrill, like countless wronged souls wailing in unison.
"On guard!"
Lo Quen shouted sharply.
His gaze snapped toward a dark stone stairway and the raised platform beyond it.
There, several vague, pallid shapes began to surface in the air.
They had no fixed form, yet radiated an icy, malevolent intent.
"Ghosts?!"
A soldier cried out, his voice shaking with fear.
...
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