Chapter 98: Blood Magic
Queen Alicent ultimately failed to gain her stepdaughter's forgiveness. The Dowager Queen remained stubbornly insistent on upholding Aegon II's right of succession, firmly believing that he was not dead. Annoyed by this, Queen Rhaenyra confined her to Maegor's Holdfast under house arrest.
However, Draezel and Valarr did not participate in Queen Rhaenyra's belated coronation ceremony. They left the Red Keep with Prince Daemon, Jacaerys, Baela, and Rhaenyra when Alicent was taken away. After bidding Jacaerys farewell, Baela immediately prepared to fly to the Vale to protect the Eyrie as promised to the Queen. Although her dragon Moondancer was only the size of a warhorse, she could already carry riders into the sky. Prince Joffrey's young dragon Tyraxes would remain in King's Landing alongside his mother's Syrax to guard the city.
Valarr and Jacaerys flew back to Dragon Nest City with the young Prince Viserys. Jacaerys was appointed Prince Regent by his mother, tasked with assisting Draezel—commander of the southern front—in suppressing the Hightower rebellion.
Meanwhile, Draezel flew with Prince Daemon to Harrenhal. As the strategic heart of the Riverlands, Harrenhal's five towering keeps overlooked the central regions of Westeros. From there, their dragons could pursue Vhagar at any moment.
Upon arriving at Harrenhal, Draezel immediately made his way to the godswood. Though most of the Riverlands followed the Faith of the Seven, the old gods still lingered faintly in certain regions. Even so, the godswood remained a traditional feature of noble castles. Southern lords often maintained small groves—if not true weirwoods, then at least ancient trees of notable age.
Harren the Black, builder of Harrenhal, had not been a devout man. His ambition had been purely architectural—to create the greatest fortress in Westeros. To that end, he transplanted ancient weirwoods from the Isle of Faces into his castle grounds. Yet when Balerion the Black Dread burned Harrenhal, most of those sacred trees were destroyed. Only the largest survived.
Its trunk bore a face—gnarled and ancient, like that of an old man. Its roots spread deep into the earth like a tangled beard. From its carved eyes seeped red sap, like tears of blood.
Draezel approached the weirwood swiftly and turned to Daemon.
"Daemon, are the preparations complete?"
Daemon nodded slowly. "You intend to use these for…?" His voice trailed off, unease creeping into his expression.
"My mother's blood. My mother's bloodline. My father's bloodline. And the blood of kings." Draezel tapped the weirwood lightly. "Along with certain crafted catalysts. Daemon—you know what I am. A blood mage."
"Caution is our nature, Draezel," Daemon replied with a faint smile. "Just as you once questioned our loyalty."
Still, he produced two small vials.
"Alicent's blood," he said. "Collected by Lady Elinda Massey after the Dowager attempted suicide."
Draezel drew his Valyrian steel blade, Silverblood, slicing a strip of bark from the weirwood. He gestured for Daemon to pour the blood onto it.
"Mother's blood… bound to her son."
The moment Alicent's blood touched the bark, it was absorbed instantly. The pale surface turned a deep, permanent crimson.
The second vial contained the blood of a Hightower—taken too late, thickened and clotted.
"The mother's blood is sufficient," Draezel said. "The maternal line merely reinforces the link."
Daemon sighed, then cut his own palm against Silverblood, letting his blood fall onto the bark.
"The father's blood guides the path of descendants," Draezel intoned in High Valyrian.
The bark darkened further, seeming to soften, almost liquefy.
"And now—the blood of kings."
Draezel turned toward Daemon.
Daemon hesitated, then produced another vial—one given to him by Rhaenyra.
"The blood of kings is the strongest catalyst," Draezel said softly.
"Do not worry," he added with a faint smile. "I would not curse our own blood. Targaryen blood flows in my veins as well. To harm it would be to harm myself. But tell me, Daemon—have you ever wondered what 'king's blood' truly means?"
Daemon snorted lightly. "I leave such curiosities to mages. To me, it is no different from dragonfire."
Draezel exhaled softly over the bark.
At once, pale, colorless flames ignited.
The great weirwood shuddered.
Then—
Draezel's gaze snapped toward the castle corridor.
For a fleeting moment, he saw a black-haired woman standing there, watching silently.
Their eyes met.
She clutched her head—and vanished into shadow.
"I had not planned to visit the Isle of Faces so soon," Draezel murmured. "Yet it seems the old gods have taken an interest. Fascinating… truly fascinating."
"Fascinating what?" Daemon asked, unsettled.
"Nothing of concern. Now—back to king's blood."
The flames died.
In Draezel's hand remained two pale, stone-like fragments streaked with crimson.
"The term 'king's blood' is misleading," Draezel explained. "It does not refer to the one seated upon a throne. In ancient Valyrian texts, it is called ancient blood—or sometimes divine blood."
He continued calmly:
"The most potent bloodlines are said to descend from the Empire of the Dawn. After that come creatures of legend—dragons, demons, and others spoken of only in myth. Then come the dragonlords of Valyria. And after them—the blood of ancient kings: the First Men, the Starks, the Gardener kings, and rulers of long-forgotten realms."
Daemon frowned. "So they became kings because they were different?"
Draezel nodded. "Exactly. That is the origin of the term."
He tossed one of the stones to Daemon.
"When Aemond is near, it will grow warm. Crush it, and I will know his location."
Daemon weighed it in his hand. "And you?"
"I will go to the Isle of Faces," Draezel replied, glancing toward Harrenhal's looming towers. "It seems I have been invited."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"And facing Vhagar… that will come soon enough."
Daemon mounted Caraxes without further argument.
"I will track him," he said simply.
He would not allow Vhagar to escape again.
Far away, in a desolate river valley—
A village smoldered in ruin.
Vhagar fed upon charred livestock, while Aemond gnawed silently on burned meat.
His expression was dark.
"I need to decide my next move…"
End of Chapter 99
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