Demanding to be bound by valyrian steel shackles? This sounded less like the ravings of a madman and more like an extremely specific, almost ritualistic precautionary measure. valyrian steel, due to its unique magical properties, was often believed to ward off evil. This, paradoxically, increased Viserys's trust in the man.
"Take me to him," Viserys's voice was unyielding.
Nahalo seemed to have anticipated this and did not demur. He summoned a steward and whispered a few instructions. The steward bowed and left, returning a moment later with a tray holding two black hooded cloaks.
"For caution's sake," Nahalo explained, "we must go quietly. There are too many eyes within the Black Walls, both from the Elephant Party and the Tiger Party."
Viserys and Arthur donned the black cloaks, using the hoods to conceal most of their faces. Nahalo himself changed into a simple brown robe. Led by the steward, the three did not use the main entrance but passed through an inconspicuous corridor in the mansion's side wing. The steward pushed open a secret door disguised as a bookshelf, revealing a hidden passage descending downwards.
"Please follow me," Nahalo led Viserys and Ser Arthur into the secret passage.
The air in the secret passage gradually grew cold and damp. Oil lamps hung at intervals along the walls, their flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the stone.
After about ten minutes of walking, a heavy iron door appeared ahead, with only a small peephole. Two burly guards stood at the door. They bowed slightly upon seeing Nahalo and unlocked the several chains on the iron door.
Behind the door was a small stone room, more like a crude confinement cell than a prison. The air was filled with a sour and moldy smell, along with a faint, elusive scent of burning and sulfur. The walls were rough, and only a dim oil lamp flickered in the corner, illuminating a figure curled up in a corner covered with straw.
By the light of the oil lamp, Viserys saw his figure.
It was a middle-aged man, his head bowed, his hair as messy as dry grass, and his beard tangled, covering most of his face. He was only wrapped in a dirty rag, and his exposed skin was an unhealthy pale, covered in scars. The scars were strangely shaped, as if formed by splashes or corrosion from high-temperature liquid. Most striking were his hands and feet, firmly bound by chains with a dull luster, the other end of which was fixed to iron rings on the wall. Viserys recognized the material of the chains at a glance: the characteristic rippled dark sheen of valyrian steel.
The man heard footsteps and suddenly raised his head.
Viserys saw a face that seemed to have been burned by fire and then forcibly pieced back together. It was covered in scars, a mixture of dark red and ghastly white. His left eye was just a deep, sunken hollow, but his right eye was unusually bright, a beautiful pale purple.
"Who?" His voice was hoarse and cracked, but his words were surprisingly clear. "It's you again, Nahalo. I told you, I know nothing. Let me out, or just kill me."
"Quiet, Marisus," Nahalo interjected. "Today I've brought you a new friend. He wants to hear your story about Valyria. Afterwards, I might give you an end, or a hope."
"Story?" The man called Marisus let out a grating, dry laugh. "There are no stories there, only echoes, echoes of fire, echoes of stone, and their whispers." His single eye fixed intently on Viserys behind Nahalo. Although his face was hidden by the hood, the gaze seemed to penetrate. "You... you smell of smoke, not the smoke from here, but older, hotter..."
Viserys took a step forward, Arthur following cautiously close behind. Viserys slowly pulled down his hood, his silver hair glinting faintly in the dim light, his purple eyes calmly meeting that mad one.
Marisus's breathing suddenly became ragged. He recoiled abruptly, the valyrian steel chains clanking.
"No... don't come closer. Dragon blood... I smell dragon blood. But it's wrong, why is it still burning?" He rambled incoherently, covering his good eye with his hand, then peeking at Viserys through his fingers. "You're not... shouldn't you already be in the ashes?"
"Tell me what you saw, Marisus," Viserys's voice was not loud, but carried a strange calming power. He subtly channeled a trace of mental energy, attempting to reach the other's chaotic thoughts. This was a mental application of the Greenseer's ability. "In Valyria, what did you see? What were those 'singing stones'?"
Perhaps it was Viserys's calm demeanor, or perhaps his power had an effect, but Marisus's frenzy subsided slightly. He lowered his hand, his single eye staring blankly into space, as if gazing at some distant, terrifying scene.
"Fire, fire everywhere, but it wasn't normal fire," he murmured as if in a dream. "They erupted from cracks in the earth, from the sea, the air itself was burning. Our ships melted like wax, and men fell in, turning into smoke without even a sound..."
"We landed on the southern tip of the 'Weeping Peninsula,' where the map marked 'Kiss of Astapor.' There was no smoke there, but there was light, the stones were glowing, multi-colored light, like they were alive. They were singing, not with ears, but in my mind." Marisus clutched his head, his body beginning to tremble. "We thought we'd found treasure. That fool subordinate of Naharis, he ordered men to dig, to pry..."
His voice suddenly rose, filled with terror. "Then they woke up. The stones came alive, from the walls, from the ground, extending tentacle-like things, grabbing people and dragging them in. Those who were dragged in, their skin started to turn gray, harden, their eyes becoming like glass marbles. They were still moving, but they weren't human anymore. They were stone. They were Stone Men."
Stone Men. Viserys recalled the rumors. It seemed they weren't entirely fabrications.
"How did you escape?" Viserys asked.
Marisus's single eye focused on Viserys's face, a strange light flickering within it.
"I was afraid of fire, so I always hid in the back, near the sea. When those stone monsters started chasing us, I jumped into the sea. The seawater was warm, like blood. I swam and swam, until I reached a reef. I saw..."
He paused for a long time, so long that Nahalo thought he was about to descend into madness again.
"I saw a dragon," Marisus's voice was almost inaudible. "Not bones, but a real dragon, but very small, about the size of a dog, hiding in the shadow of the reef. Its scales were black, but the edges had dark red glowing patterns. It was eating a glowing fish. It saw me, but it didn't attack me, it just looked at me. Its eyes were red, like flickering flames."
A small black dragon? Viserys's heart pounded. Were there still living dragons in the ruins of Valyria? This seemed incredible, but the original novel also didn't provide a detailed description of Valyria. Could dragons still hatch in such extreme conditions after the Doom?
"What happened next?" Viserys pressed.
"Later, I passed out. When I woke up again, I was clinging to a broken ship plank, picked up by a passing merchant ship that took me back to Volantis." Marisus's voice became hollow again. "Naharis thought I was dead, or had turned into a monster. He kept me as a slave, wanting to know what I had experienced, but I would go mad whenever I got near anything from Valyria. He wanted to kill me, but couldn't bring himself to, until I escaped."
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