CHAPTER ONE — THE GREED OF THE SNAKE
Five and a half months in Old Valyria, and Sirius Black had decided one thing for certain:
this place desperately needed a vacation brochure.
Come visit the land of ash, death, and things that want to eat you. Bring friends. Bring a will.
He stood on the cracked stone of the makeshift port his men had carved out of the ruins, staring at the five ships bobbing in the poisoned water. His ships. His designs. His pride. And now, his floating treasure vaults.
He tugged at the enchanted bag on his hip the one he'd made through a ritual that still made him wince. Dragon eggs, faintly alive, sacrificed in a circle of runes and blood. Not his proudest moment, but the bag worked, and that was what mattered. Inside it lay the things he wasn't sharing with anyone. Not even Davos.
Especially not Davos.
"My friend," Davos Stone called from behind him, boots crunching over obsidian shards. "What are you doing out here so late? Already dreaming of home?"
Sirius turned, grinning. "Dreaming? No. Plotting? Always."
Davos groaned. "Seven hells. What now?"
"Oh, nothing," Sirius said lightly. "Just thinking about how the engineering I learned here, the magic I rediscovered, and the mountain of Valyrian steel we've collected will make House Blacksnake very, very happy."
"And rich," Davos added.
"And rich," Sirius agreed. "Especially you. I've seen the way you stare at the gold."
Davos shrugged. "Gold stares back."
Sirius laughed as they walked deeper into the ruined city. The air smelled like sulfur and old fire. Ten men had died here Stone Men, collapsing buildings, the occasional toxic cloud but the haul had been worth it. More than worth it.
Still… the longer they stayed, the more Sirius felt the land pressing in on them. Watching. Waiting.
The ground trembled beneath their boots.
The stones whispered.
Something old shifted in the shadows.
Sirius stopped walking.
"Oh, wonderful," he muttered. "They're back."
The scrape of claws echoed through the street. Davos reached for his sword.
Sirius didn't.
He reached for his wand.
"Sectumsempra."
The curse sliced through the air like a storm of invisible razors. Stone Men shattered, limbs and torsos breaking apart like brittle pottery. More crawled from the ruins, moving with a disturbing coordination that made Sirius's skin crawl.
"Right," he said briskly. "We're leaving. Now. My charms are fading, and I'd rather not die here. Again."
Davos didn't argue. He ran.
Sirius followed, wand still warm in his hand, until they reached The Pearl his flagship, the ship carrying the bulk of their fortune. Books, jewels, crowns, ingots, swords, gold… enough wealth to buy a castle, a fleet, or a small kingdom. Enough to reshape the Riverlands. Enough to reshape him.
Inside his quarters, Sirrath his massive Titanoboa lay coiled around his desk, black scales shimmering faintly violet. The snake lifted its head as Sirius entered, tongue flicking in greeting.
"Hello, beautiful," Sirius said, patting the giant serpent's head. "No eating the crew. Again."
Aelyx, his eagle‑harpy, perched on the rafters above, golden eyes sharp and judgmental.
"Yes, yes, I know," Sirius said to the bird. "I should sleep. I should rest. I should stop poking cursed ruins with a stick. You sound like my mother."
Aelyx screeched.
"Exactly like her," Sirius muttered.
He sat at his desk, opened his ledger, and let the weight of his triumph settle over him.
Fifty million in value.
Fifty million in gold, jewels, steel, and knowledge.
Fifty million reasons for the realm to panic.
He felt powerful.
He felt free.
He was twenty years old, unmarried, and heir to a minor house. But he was also a man with more Valyrian steel than any lord alive. A man with magic. A man with ambition. A man reborn.
He dipped his quill and began writing a letter to his father a simple message promising his return, his safety, and the unimaginable wealth he carried. He told Rowan Blacksnake that he would soon come home with treasures beyond imagining, that Serpent Port would rise, that their house would no longer be whispered about as a minor family but spoken of with respect.
Then he turned to the small wooden box he had crafted in Essos.
Inside he placed:
- A Valyrian steel necklace
- A Blacksnake sigil
- A note
- A book about the founder of House Velaryon
- And a promise of more
A marriage alliance with a dragonrider family.
A bold move.
A dangerous one.
But Sirius Black had never feared danger.
He sealed the box and tied it to Aelyx's leg.
"Find Corlys Velaryon," he whispered.
The great bird screeched once, then launched into the night sky, wings beating against the sulfurous air. Sirius watched until the creature vanished into the darkness, then leaned back in his chair, Sirrath's coils tightening around the desk.
He had come to Old Valyria seeking power.
He was leaving with dominion.
A week later, long before the news of the "Greedy Snake" returning to Westeros spread, Corlys Velaryon opened a small wooden crate delivered by a monstrous bird.
Inside, he found jewels, a Valyrian steel necklace, a Blacksnake sigil, and a book thought lost for centuries.
And a note:
There is more.
Much more.
If you are willing to talk
Corlys stared at the treasures, stunned.
The Snake was coming home.
And he was bringing a fortune that could change the realm.