Daemon set the book down with a heavy sigh. The deep, unyielding weight of the knowledge he had uncovered about his family, the Thalorii, the Velyarionis, and the creature known as Queen Nyxvaris, pressed upon him. His mind still buzzed with the complexity of the past—the alliances, the battles, the dragons—and the unanswered questions. The way everything was so intricately woven together, how each family’s history was linked to the others, and how it all seemed to circle around the growing threat of Nyxvaris.

His thoughts lingered on the Thalorii—the lightning dragons—and the mysterious family, the Velyarionis, and how the dragons they rode could wield water in a way he couldn’t yet fully comprehend. But all of it, every shred of information, felt like pieces of an ancient puzzle, and though he had uncovered so much, the full picture remained frustratingly out of reach.

Vensalia had given him space, staying on the other side of the library, absorbed in her own research. But now, as Daemon glanced up from the book, he could feel her presence beside him, like a quiet understanding in the air. He didn’t need to look up to know she had noticed his expression. She was always so attuned to the unspoken.

“You still have questions,” she said softly, as if reading his mind. Her voice held no judgment, just the calm reassurance that he could find the answers he sought in time.

Daemon nodded, still lost in his thoughts. “So much... so many unanswered things about our families, and the creatures we’re up against.” He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the page. “The history is deep, and the stakes... they’re higher than I realized.”

Vensalia didn’t respond immediately. She seemed to be thinking, weighing her words carefully. “I can give you copies of the books I’ve found,” she said after a moment. “More about the creature... Queen Nyxvaris. More about the families—about the Thalorii, the Velyarionis, the Vakriyomas, and even the Targaryens themselves. It’s all here.”

Daemon’s eyes flicked to hers. “What if questions arise? What if they ask... questions?”

Vensalia understood him immediately. She knew what he meant. The unspoken concern about his family, about Corlys, Rhaenys, Laena, and the rest. The possibility of them asking questions that Daemon wasn’t ready to answer.

Vensalia’s gaze softened, and there was a quiet strength in her voice when she spoke again. “I trust you, Daemon,” she said simply. “And I trust that, despite all the differences and doubts that may linger, we all share the same goal. We’re fighting the same threat. That’s what matters.”

Daemon felt a flicker of respect stir inside him, something that hadn’t been there before. Vensalia’s calm demeanor, her ability to see past the tension and focus on the bigger picture, was something he admired. For all the reservations he’d had about her when they first met, there was a quiet wisdom in her words now.

She moved to a bookshelf nearby, her fingers brushing the spines of the thick, ancient tomes. With a graceful motion, she pulled several books from the shelf and held them out to him. Her eyes were steady as she spoke. “These are copies I made, duplicates of the knowledge I’ve gathered. You can take them with you.”

Daemon took the books from her, their weight a reminder of how much she had given him. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I appreciate this. I... I won’t forget it.”

Vensalia gave him a slight nod, her expression unreadable, but there was a warmth in her gaze. “You don’t have to thank me. I trust you. And I believe this will help.”

Daemon felt a sense of gratitude swell within him as he closed his hand around the books. They weren’t just a gift; they were an acknowledgment of their shared purpose, their shared struggle. The silence between them deepened, but there was no awkwardness now—just a mutual understanding that needed no words.

Together, they left the library, heading toward the dragon palace. Daemon’s mind was still buzzing, but now there was a quiet sense of purpose that came with the books in his hands. There were answers to be found, and he would uncover them—one way or another.

Caraxes was lounging near the edge of the palace courtyard, his massive form relaxed, his wings spread slightly to soak up the warmth of the sun. Daemon smiled softly at the sight of his dragon, and as he approached, Caraxes raised his head, acknowledging his rider with a low, rumbling growl.

The younger dragons were playing in the distance, their wild, unrestrained energy filling the air. Daemon couldn’t help but smile as he watched them—especially Aerithor, the unique of all the dragons, but one of the most mischievous. Aerithor had taken a liking to Daemon, and now, as the dragon caught sight of him, he began to flap his wings excitedly, darting toward Daemon with a playful screech.

Vensalia laughed softly, her gaze following Aerithor as he flew in circles around Daemon. “Looks like he’s trying to impress you,” she teased, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Daemon chuckled, watching Aerithor show off his shimmering scales. The dragon’s skin shimmered with iridescent hues, like the reflection of a rainbow after a storm. The light caught his scales just right, and they seemed to glow with a soft, mesmerizing radiance. It was impossible not to be enchanted by them.

Aerithor nudged Daemon playfully, and Daemon reached out, his hand moving slowly, almost tentatively at first. The young dragon nuzzled against him, the warmth of his scales sending a wave of comfort through Daemon’s fingertips. Slowly, he began to pet him, his hand moving gently along the smooth surface of Aerithor’s scales.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how they feel,” Daemon murmured, his voice filled with quiet awe.

Vensalia smiled, watching the interaction with an amused expression. “They’re not like anything else in the world. You should be honored.”

Daemon nodded, still lost in the sensation of Aerithor’s scales beneath his fingers. There was a bond there, an understanding between rider and dragon, something he’d never truly understood until now. Caraxes had always been his partner, but this was different. This was a different kind of connection.

Finally, after a moment, Vensalia stepped forward, her expression softening. “I should be going. I have my own journey to take.”

Daemon looked up at her, a touch of reluctance in his eyes. “I know. But I wanted to thank you. For everything. For trusting me, for giving me the knowledge. I... I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Vensalia’s expression softened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something deeper in her gaze. “We’re all in this together,” she said simply, her voice steady but warm.

With that, she turned and mounted Silva, her dragon standing tall beside her. Vensalia double-checked the barrier around her, ensuring it was secure before she signaled to Silva. The dragon’s wings beat the air, lifting them both from the ground. The powerful rhythm of their flight was familiar, but it still always left Daemon in awe.

Daemon mounted Caraxes, his dragon’s growl rumbling beneath him. He could feel the connection between them, the unspoken understanding. Caraxes shifted his wings, preparing for flight, and Daemon nodded to Vensalia before turning his attention to the skies.

“Safe travels,” Daemon called after her, his voice filled with respect.

Vensalia’s gaze met his one last time before she and Silva soared into the sky, disappearing into the horizon.

Daemon watched her go, his heart heavy with the weight of their shared purpose. As he urged Caraxes into flight, the dragon’s powerful wings lifting them higher into the sky, Daemon couldn’t help but feel the burden of what lay ahead. There were questions to be answered, allies to be found, and a battle to be fought. But for now, he had the books, the knowledge, and the quiet resolve to see it through.

As they flew over the vast landscape of Essos, Daemon’s mind wandered back to the family he was heading toward—his own family, who still didn’t fully understand the gravity of the situation. They would have their questions, their doubts, but Daemon knew he could no longer remain silent. Not when the stakes were this high.

Vensalia, Silva, and the memory of the dragons were far behind now, but Daemon knew that she had given him more than just knowledge. She had given him a path forward. A way to fight.

He only hoped his family would see it too.

---

Daemon sat quietly in the chambers he shared with his wife, Laena, as the soft flicker of candlelight danced across the stone walls. He could hear her movements across the room, the rustle of her soft silks as she adjusted herself on the bed. Vaelor, their young son, was nestled against her, clinging to her side, his small fingers wrapped around the fabric of her gown. The bond between mother and child was clear, but Daemon knew that it was also a source of her worry, her nerves still raw from the attack.

Laena had been shaken when he returned, not just by the memory of what had happened but by the anxiety of not knowing where Daemon had gone. She had barely slept the last few nights, her thoughts tangled with fear for their family’s safety.

He looked at her now, seeing the way she glanced at him, the questions in her eyes still not fully answered. He had kept his distance from her the past few days, lost in the research that Vensalia had provided him. And now, faced with the quiet tension of their room, he realized that it was time to give her something. Anything.

Laena spoke first, her voice soft but insistent. “Daemon, where have you been?”

Daemon stiffened at the question. His mind raced for an answer. He had promised Vensalia he wouldn’t share everything, particularly the dragons, the Dragon Palace, and the power that lingered there. But this was his wife. She needed to know something, at least.

“I went with Vensalia,” he began, choosing his words carefully. “We traveled to the Old Valyria to seek answers.”

Laena’s eyes narrowed, still clouded with worry, but she listened intently. Vaelor, sensing the shift in atmosphere, looked up at his mother and then at Daemon, his small eyes searching for comfort. He moved closer to Laena, his tiny hands gripping her arm tighter. Daemon noticed, but for now, he had to focus on what mattered.

“You went to Valyria?” Laena asked, her voice filled with a mix of concern and disbelief. “By yourself?”

Daemon nodded. “I had to, Laena. There were things I needed to understand. Things about what attacked us.” He hesitated, knowing that the next words he spoke could either calm her or make things worse. “But I didn’t do it alone. Vensalia helped me.”

Laena’s brow furrowed slightly. She was still trying to piece things together, and Daemon could see that the weight of the unknown was wearing on her. “What do you mean ‘helped you’?” she asked, her tone still laced with worry. “And what did you find?”

Daemon took a slow breath and moved closer to her, feeling the quiet pulse of his own anxiety in his chest. He could feel her eyes on him, studying him as he spoke. It wasn’t just about what had happened to them—it was about her trust in him, in what he was saying now.

“We found answers,” Daemon said, his voice steady, though it carried the weight of what he had uncovered. “Vensalia had knowledge of something ancient. Something that attacked us—the creature that nearly killed you and Vaelor. It wasn’t just any creature... it was a spawn of something far darker, a creature known as Nyxvaris. The queen of shadows.”

Laena blinked, her face going pale at the mention of the creature’s name. She drew in a shaky breath, her hand moving to her chest instinctively. Vaelor, still clinging to her, looked up at her with wide eyes. Daemon could feel the fear in her, but there was something else now too—hope. She was no longer as lost as she had been. She could see that there was an explanation, a reason behind the nightmare that had almost destroyed them.

“A spawn of Nyxvaris?” Laena repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “A creature of darkness?”

Daemon nodded, a grim expression on his face. “Yes. The very same. Vensalia explained everything to me. The creatures are called Nyxspawn, born from the queen herself. They are rare, almost mythical. But they can be very dangerous, as we saw.”

Laena closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing the information. Vaelor shifted slightly, sensing his mother’s distress, but still not fully understanding the gravity of the conversation.

“Daemon,” Laena began, her voice trembling a bit, “how did you even get there? To Old Valyria? You’re telling me you went there alone? Without telling anyone?”

Daemon flinched at the scolding tone. It wasn’t a question he had been looking forward to, but he knew he had to face it. Laena had every right to be angry. He had been reckless. But in his mind, he had made the right choice. He had to know, for their sake, what had attacked them and how to defeat it. He had to trust Vensalia, and he had.

“I should have told you,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment. “I was reckless, Laena. But I couldn’t risk waiting. I needed to find out what we were dealing with. The attack wasn’t just random—it was something orchestrated, something bigger than we imagined. But I didn’t do it alone. Vensalia was there.”

Laena let out a breath and shook her head slightly, though there was relief in her eyes now. “You always do this,” she said, her voice soft but filled with frustration. “You always put yourself at risk without telling anyone. But... I’m glad you found answers, Daemon. I just wish you hadn’t done it this way.”

Daemon placed a hand gently on her shoulder, offering a silent apology for his actions. “I’m sorry. I’ll explain everything to you, I promise. But we need to focus on the next step. I found more than just the creature’s name. I found something important. I brought something back with me.”

Daemon walked over to the table and carefully set down the stack of thick books Vensalia had given him. The weight of them seemed to symbolize the gravity of what lay ahead. Laena’s gaze followed his movements, and as Daemon opened the first book, her curiosity took over, momentarily pushing aside her anxiety.

Daemon flipped through the pages until he found the part he was looking for, the page with the creature’s likeness drawn in stark detail—a grotesque, shadowy figure that seemed to writhe on the page even though it was only ink and parchment.

“This is the creature,” Daemon said, turning the book toward Laena. “A spawn of Nyxvaris, as I said. But it’s more than just a physical threat. It has dark magic, a powerful connection to the shadow realm. It can manipulate the very darkness itself, twisting it into weapons or barriers. But we’re not without hope.”

Laena looked at the drawing, her eyes narrowing as she took in the details of the creature. It was horrifying, its form like a distorted, elongated beast with clawed limbs and a serpentine body, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. She shuddered, but Daemon pressed on.

“There’s a weakness,” Daemon said, meeting her gaze. “These creatures can be killed. They’re vulnerable to light—specifically the Light of Aenira, a magical force that can penetrate their shadows and destroy them. We can use this against them.”

Laena exhaled sharply, her mind racing to understand the implications. “The Light of Aenira?” she whispered. “Where do we find this light? How do we use it?”

Daemon shook his head. “That’s the next piece of the puzzle. I don’t have all the answers yet. But I’m certain that with the knowledge Vensalia has given me, we’ll find a way.”

He turned another page in the book, showing her an illustration of the Nyxspawn’s movements, how it used shadows to manipulate its environment, how it could slither through cracks and spaces in the dark, becoming nearly impossible to track or fight.

“There’s more we can do,” Daemon continued. “Vensalia has given me some insight into how to protect ourselves from its magic. But we’ll need time to prepare.”

Laena took in everything he said, her face still pale but now filled with determination. “We’ll prepare,” she said firmly, her voice steady now. “We’ll defeat this creature, together.”

Daemon nodded, relieved that Laena’s resolve was strong. The fear still lingered, but now there was something else—hope. The knowledge they had gained, though incomplete, was enough to give them a fighting chance.

“We’ll fight together,” Daemon said, his hand gently squeezing hers. “And we won’t stop until this threat is gone. I swear it.”

Laena nodded, her eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and quiet strength. Vaelor, still clinging to her side, looked up at his parents with innocent eyes, sensing the gravity of the conversation but unable to fully understand it.

For now, Daemon knew they had the answers they needed—and that was a start.

---

Laena sat alone in their chambers, the faint glow of candlelight flickering against the stone walls. Daemon had just left, leaving her with the books he had brought back from his journey. Her mind was still reeling from the discovery of what had attacked them, and the weight of Daemon’s revelations sat heavily on her chest. But as she glanced around the room, her eyes landed on a particular book left behind on the table.

It was a dark blue tome, the cover so unassuming at first glance, yet there was something about it—a pull, an inexplicable force—that caught Laena’s attention. It was as if the book itself was calling to her. She couldn’t quite explain why, but her curiosity overwhelmed her, and her hands instinctively reached out for it.

The title on the cover read: The History of the Velyarionis.

Laena’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t heard of this family before. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but the depth of her intrigue only grew. She hadn’t planned to read anything more for the night, but she couldn’t help herself. Something about this book seemed different. Something important.

Opening the cover, she turned to the first page, where the history of the Velyarionis family began. The text was dense, filled with ancient accounts that detailed the family’s attempts to combat the same creature Daemon had spoken of—the spawn of Nyxvaris. The more Laena read, the more fascinated she became.

The Velyarionis family, it seemed, had been involved in some of the most monumental battles in Valyria’s history. They had fought alongside other powerful Valyrian houses, including the Targaryens, Vakriyomas, and Thalorii, to keep the dark creatures of Nyxvaris at bay. The Targaryens’ ancestors, the book explained, had used their dragons and powerful magic to wage war against ancient horrors. But what struck Laena as odd—and unsettling—was that she had never heard of these names before. Her mind lingered on the word "Nyxvaris" as she read, still unsure what to make of it. During Aegon’s Conquest, she knew the Targaryens had defeated their enemies with fire and blood, but there was no mention of creatures like the Nyxspawn or any other ancient artifacts that could rival the Dark Sister.

Something about this history felt... hidden, like it was meant to remain buried.

Laena’s hands trembled slightly as she turned the pages, captivated by the long-forgotten records of Valyria’s past. She paused on a drawing of a dragon. It was unlike any she had seen before. The creature was serpentine in shape, its long, lithe body twisting through the air as if it was part of the storm itself. The dragon had no wings, but its form still allowed it to soar through the skies with incredible speed and grace. Beneath the dragon, the name Thalorii was scrawled in ancient script.

The Thalorii family, according to the text, had controlled lightning. Their dragons, though wingless, had the ability to summon the storm with a single thought, their power so great that they could control the very skies. Laena stared at the image of the Thalorii dragons in awe. They were beautiful in their own way—sleek, serpentine, and mysterious. The drawing depicted the dragons coiling through the clouds, lightning crackling from their bodies in a display of raw power. She had never imagined such creatures existed. The power they wielded was like nothing she had ever seen, not even with the Targaryens’ mighty dragons. It was as if these dragons were born to dominate the storm itself.

Her eyes lingered on the page as she absorbed the history of the Thalorii family. They had been great allies to the Targaryens in the battle against the queen of shadows, Nyxvaris. But then, her gaze shifted to the next page. Another dragon family was mentioned: Velyarionis.

The name Velyarionis felt so familiar, yet so distant. Laena’s pulse quickened as she saw the next illustration. This dragon was similar to the Thalorii dragons, but there was something distinctly different about it. Its body was sleek and smooth, with fins running along its back and tail. The creature glided effortlessly through the water, its form designed to navigate the depths with ease. The Velyarionis dragons were not the fire-breathing behemoths she had grown accustomed to seeing, nor were they the storm-taming creatures of the Thalorii. No, these were dragons that lived in harmony with the sea, their scales shimmering like moonlight on the water’s surface.

Laena’s fingers trembled as she continued to read. The book went on to describe how the Velyarionis family had been one of the key players in the fight against Nyxvaris. They were not just warriors—they were also masters of the seas, and their dragons could control the currents and the waves. The Velyarionis dragons, with their unique abilities, were said to be the only creatures capable of battling the Nyxspawn in the water. Laena’s mind raced as she tried to comprehend the implications of what she was reading. Water dragons—dragons that could control the seas. She had never heard of anything like this before.

The next passage was one Laena could hardly believe. It detailed a battle between four dragonriders—one Targaryen, one Vakriyoma, one Thalorii, and one Velyarionis. The picture accompanying the text showed the four riders on their dragons, flying through a storm as they faced the queen of shadows herself, Nyxvaris. The scene was dramatic, almost otherworldly. Nyxvaris, in her twisted, shadowy form, loomed over the riders, her dark power swirling around her like an ocean of darkness. The four dragonriders, however, stood their ground, their dragons casting bright, radiant light in contrast to the encroaching shadows.

As Laena turned the page, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. What she read next stopped her in her tracks. The Velyarionis family, it seemed, had a dark secret of their own. Their name—Velyarionis—had eventually changed to Velaryon. Laena’s mind reeled as she reread the words, her heart pounding in her chest. Velaryon—the name of the very house she and her family had belonged to for generations.

Laena’s eyes darted to the words on the page, her mind struggling to process what she had just read. She had known the history of House Velaryon, of course. She had known the tales of their conquests, their alliance with the Targaryens, and their stronghold on Driftmark. But to learn that they were once the Velyarionis family, with a legacy tied to water dragons and the battle against Nyxvaris—it was too much to fully comprehend. She could barely believe it.

Her hands shook as she held the book, staring at the page with the Velaryon name in disbelief. Was it possible? Had her own family been part of such an ancient and powerful lineage? The very thought seemed unfathomable.

For a moment, Laena was frozen, her eyes locked on the words that had shocked her to her core. The book spoke of the Velyarionis family’s transformation into the Velaryons, a process that had happened long before her time, but it also spoke of their ongoing legacy. The Velyarionis dragons, the water dragons that could tame the seas and fight the shadows—they were part of her heritage.

She didn’t know what to think anymore. All her life, Laena had been taught that the Velaryons were one of the proudest and oldest houses in Westeros, but this... this revelation opened an entirely new world of possibilities. She was connected not only to the powerful Velaryons, but to the legacy of the Velyarionis, a family that had fought alongside the Targaryens and other great houses in the battle against Nyxvaris.

Laena closed the book slowly, her mind racing with questions. She needed time to process everything she had just learned, but one thing was certain: the history of her family, her very bloodline, was far deeper and more complicated than she had ever imagined. The shadows of the past were not just stories—they were alive, and they had shaped the world she lived in.

As she sat in the quiet of their chambers, the weight of the book in her hands, Laena knew that the journey to uncover the truth of their past had only just begun.

---

The morning sun had barely broken the horizon when Laena awoke, the quiet of the early hours giving her a rare moment of solitude. Daemon lay beside her, still lost in the realm of sleep, his steady breathing the only sound filling the space between them. Vaelor, their young son, was asleep in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling with every peaceful breath. Yet despite the tranquility of the moment, Laena couldn't quiet the thoughts racing through her mind.

The books Daemon had left behind, full of ancient knowledge and hidden truths, had captivated her since the moment she’d first laid eyes on them. There was something magnetic about them—something she couldn't fully explain. She had read through several of them the night before, but now, as the sun began to rise and paint the room with soft light, Laena found herself drawn to the dark blue book again, the one that spoke of her family’s legacy, the Velyarionis, and their connection to water dragons.

The room was still cool, and Laena wrapped herself in a thin blanket, curling her legs underneath her as she sat cross-legged at the bed. Her fingers traced the edges of the book, feeling the weight of its pages and the history contained within. She opened it to the page she had left off on the night before, her eyes skimming over the ancient words as she read aloud in her mind.

The text continued to tell of the Velyarionis and their bond with the water dragons. The relationship between dragonrider and dragon had always been a sacred one, but with the water dragons, it seemed there was a unique and almost ethereal quality to the bond.

As Laena read, she could almost imagine the scene. The passage described how potential dragonriders of the Velyarionis family had to first journey to the waters, where the water dragons lived. The process was not as simple as just finding a dragon and claiming it as a rider. No, it was a test—an evaluation of sorts.

To become a true rider of a water dragon, one had to float on the surface of the water, without the aid of a boat or other means of transport. Alone, they would wait, feeling the cool depths beneath them and the quiet stillness of the surrounding water. The dragons would approach them, circling the would-be riders, studying them from beneath the surface. And then, the test would begin.

If the dragon deemed the rider unworthy, it would simply push them back toward the shore, forcing them to return to land. The bond, the book explained, was not one that could be forced. It had to come naturally, as a deep understanding between the dragon and its rider. But if the dragon found the person worthy, if they could sense the strength of character or a connection beyond the surface, the water dragon would emerge from the depths, its sleek, shimmering body gliding effortlessly through the water. The dragon would nudge the rider onto its back, and together they would ride the waves, the dragon’s powerful form moving through the water with grace and purpose.

Laena paused as she read, her heart swelling with a strange sense of pride. She could almost picture it—standing at the edge of a vast, endless sea, the cool breeze tugging at her hair as she floated on the water, waiting for one of these majestic creatures to choose her. There was a tranquility in the way the water dragons tested their riders, no fire or violence, just a silent evaluation of worthiness. The dragons didn’t attack those who weren’t meant for them. They didn’t fight to claim or defend themselves. They simply pushed unworthy riders away, returning them to the shore without harm.

The water dragons, Laena thought, were not creatures of destruction like fire-breathing dragons. They were beings of harmony, of calm. The more she read, the more she felt the awe of it all. She had always known that dragons were magnificent, but these water dragons were something different entirely. They didn’t burn. They didn’t devour. They existed in a realm of their own, connected to the sea, to the moonlit tides that rose and fell like a quiet heartbeat.

Her thoughts drifted back to the last part of the passage she’d read. After the great battle with Nyxvaris, the text explained that the Velyarionis family had made a difficult decision. The battle had been long and hard, and though the dragonlords had fought valiantly, it seemed that the fight had taken its toll. The power of Nyxvaris was not to be underestimated, and even the combined might of the Valyrian houses had been insufficient to destroy it completely. The dragonlords, despite their strength, had been forced to retreat, to regroup and reconsider.

And so, the Velyarionis made a decision that would affect the future of their dragons forever. The water dragons, rather than staying in the waters around Valyria, were sent away, to the northern part of the world. There, in the icy waters of a place known as the Thousand Islands, they would live in seclusion. The Velyarionis family, unable to protect the water dragons from the creeping threat of Nyxvaris and its spawn, allowed the creatures to retreat into the safety of the north, where the warmth of the southern world would never touch them.

Laena couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss as she read this. The water dragons, once so closely tied to her family, were now distant, isolated in the cold northern waters, far from the lands of her ancestors. She wondered what had become of them. Were they still there, hidden away in the deep waters, untouched by the world above? Or had they perished, forgotten in the tides of time?

A voice in her mind whispered that perhaps it wasn’t too late. Perhaps the water dragons could still be found, and her family could reconnect with them, reclaiming their bond with the creatures who had once been their closest allies. The thought filled her with hope, though it seemed like a distant dream. How could they possibly find those dragons now, buried deep in the northern seas?

Her hands shook slightly as she turned the page. Her eyes lingered over the details of the Velyarionis’ history, tracing the words that described their role in the battle against Nyxvaris. The passage spoke of how the dragonlords—Velyarionis, Targaryens, and others—had fought with all their might, only to see the waters of Valyria stained with the shadows of the queen’s creatures. They had stood together, side by side, facing down a darkness none could fully comprehend.

But despite their efforts, the water dragons were sent away, their bond with the Velyarionis lost, or so it seemed.

Laena’s mind whirled as she tried to piece together everything she had learned. The Velyarionis, once so closely tied to the Targaryens, had left behind a legacy that stretched back to the early days of Valyria. They had been more than just dragonriders. They had been protectors of an ancient, peaceful bond with creatures that were both part of the land and part of the sea. They had been guardians of dragons that could ride the waves, and yet their legacy was now all but forgotten, wiped away by the tides of time.

The book, now open before her, seemed like a doorway into another world, one that she wasn’t sure she could fully understand. But as Laena looked at the words written on the page, she felt a stirring deep inside her. She wasn’t just reading about the past anymore. She was feeling the weight of it—an echo of something ancient and powerful, something that called to her from the depths.

She closed the book, her heart still racing with the knowledge she had uncovered. She didn’t know what this meant for her, or for her family’s future, but she knew one thing for certain: the legacy of the Velyarionis, the water dragons, and the ancient bonds that had once existed between the Targaryens, was not over.

Laena felt an unexplainable pull, a desire to learn more, to understand her family’s past—and to find those dragons, the water dragons, before it was too late.