"Erevi, how does it feel?"
"Hiss… no, this won't do. I need to try a different approach."
King's Landing, atop Rhaenys's Hill—Kal and Erevi were focused on sothing, working intently.
A structure stood there, seven or eight ters tall and at least over ten ters wide. Not quite a monunt—more accurately, it was a stone wall.
The surface of the wall was covered in strange runes, and at the very top center, a faintly glowing crystal egg was embedded within it.
Erevi pressed her palm against the stone, channeling the magic within her body. Her brows knit slightly; it was clearly not easy.
This place had once been a massive nest-like structure, where House Targaryen had kept their dragons.
Before the Dragonpit was built, the sept on Rhaenys's Hill was the well-known Sept of Rembrance. It had once been the most important sept in King's Landing.
During the uprising of the Faith Militant, the cruel King Maegor I rode Balerion—the "Black Dread"—and burned the sept with dragonfire.
After the war, Maegor ordered the construction of a vast dod structure to house the dragons of the Targaryen dynasty.
From then on, it beca known as the Dragonpit.
Later, during the latter stages of the Dance of the Dragons, King's Landing fell into the hands of Queen Rhaenyra. During that period, the Dragonpit was destroyed in the "Storming of the Dragonpit."
It was a riot that tore the city apart. Tens of thousands of frenzied and starving smallfolk, led by the prophet known as the Shepherd, stord the Dragonpit and broke inside.
The mob slew the dragons Shrykos, Morghul, Tyraxes, Dreamfyre, and later Syrax, while thousands of smallfolk also lost their lives in the chaos.
Afterward, the do of the Dragonpit collapsed amid flas, leaving behind only burning ruins.
It sounded absurd—but it was true.
According to records, the mob climbed in through the windows, then used crude battering rams and countless axe blows to break through the oak-and-iron side gates.
They poured in, facing four awakened, enraged dragons.
Yet the dragons were trapped within walls and beneath the do, bound by heavy chains.
They could not take flight, nor could they use their wings to defend or strike back effectively.
The four dragons were forced to fight like bulls in a pit—using horns, claws, and teeth.
And the dragonfire they spewed turned the Dragonpit into a living hell.
At that ti, Prince Joffrey Velaryon urgently begged his mother for permission to go to the Dragonpit and save the dragons, but Queen Rhaenyra refused to let her beloved son risk his life. So Joffrey secretly mounted Syrax, who remained in the Red Keep.
Syrax was familiar with Joffrey and did not resist his approach—but when the prince tried to ride her, she struggled violently.
In the end, Prince Joffrey was thrown from the sky and fell to his death.
Syrax, riderless, flew to Rhaenys's Hill and died that sa night.
Robert Baratheon overthrew House Targaryen, but he never took any asures regarding this place.
The king did not care—but in King's Landing, where every inch of land was valuable, soone would make use of it.
So prostitutes took clients in these ruins to save on costs.
Until one unlucky patron stepped on a rotten floorboard and fell into a cellar along with a prostitute—only to discover wildfire stored there by Lord Rossart during Robert's Rebellion—did the newly crowned Kal finally rember this place.
Kal had never intended to make use of it. Nor had he ever thought to restrict Robert's freedom.
Besides, the Dragonpit was far too small for his purposes.
What ultimately made him reconsider its use was Erevi's research into the roadstones—and the problem of where to place them.
Thus, Kal ordered the abandoned Dragonpit atop Rhaenys's Hill to be demolished and transford into a flat plaza.
The only structure taller than the roadstone wall was the statue still under construction—of Kal-El himself.
Hearing Erevi's words, Kal wisely chose not to disturb her and waited patiently.
Erevi had always been the one researching the roadstones. This fusion of ancient technology, blending magic and science, was beyond Kal—he couldn't make heads or tails of it.
But that didn't stop him from knowing what needed to be done.
Ti passed, second by second.
Just as Kal began to grow bored and wondered whether he should go back to spend ti with the pregnant Sansa and Margaery—
A crisp sound rang out from the stone wall.
At the sa ti, the crystal egg embedded at its center suddenly flared with blinding light.
Fortunately, the brilliance did not last long. After only a few seconds, the light receded, leaving behind a glow just slightly brighter than before.
It pulsed—like breathing.
The once unremarkable wall, covered only in runes, seed to co alive the mont energy flowed through it.
Tiny motes of starlight, like morning mist, gathered into faint ribbons that slowly drifted around the wall.
At tis they converged and flowed together; at others, a gust of wind scattered them into nothing.
The entire structure gave off a vague illusion—as if it did not exist in the sa world, the sa layer.
Seeing this, Kal smiled.
Erevi withdrew her hand and stepped back, a relaxed smile appearing on her face.
"It's confird to be operational. If nothing unexpected happens…"
Before she could finish, Kal pulled her into his arms.
"I trust you, Erevi. You're a genius."
…
Three days later.
The Riverlands, above the Gods Eye—a golden dragon soared through the sky, as carefree as a husky finally let off its leash.
From ti to ti, the dragon plunged into the lake, stirring up towering waves, then burst back out, shaking off water and flinging great fish onto the shore.
A golden-furred dog ran along the bank, barking with delight.
At the sa ti, upon the sacred island in the center of the Gods Eye—known as the Isle of Faces—Erevi and Kal appeared once more.
It was a forest—one made primarily of weirwoods.
There were few legends about the Isle of Faces, but they dated back to the end of the Dawn Age.
"I can feel sothing watching us…"
In the forest, Erevi opened her eyes slowly and spoke to Kal.
Kal was not surprised. He, too, could sense the gaze—he could even tell where it was coming from.
He turned his eyes toward a point in the air just five or six ters away.
Tilting his head slightly, Kal smiled at that empty space—a silent greeting.
"Alright, that's enough greeting. We don't need to mind it."
"As for now…"
His gaze swept across the forest.
Weirwoods were once widespread across Westeros—deciduous trees with pale bark like bone and dark red leaves like a thousand bloody hands.
But here, growing densely and wildly, they looked especially twisted.
Though thick and sturdy, they gave off an eerie feeling.
Especially under that unseen gaze.
"Leave so seeds. Burn the rest. I don't like these trees."
Kal issued his command.
The dragon, which had been playing above the lake, flew in and unleashed a torrent of dragonfire.
The unseen gaze faded as the flas consud the forest.
The fire lit half the sky.
At so point, Kal and Erevi had already moved to the lakeshore.
A fishing line dropped into the crimson-reflecting waters.
"When the First n inherited the faith of the old gods from the Children of the Forest, noble houses in Westeros would plant a weirwood in their godswood. They called it a heart tree."
"To followers of the old gods, heart trees are sacred. They pray, swear oaths, and seal marriages before them, believing the old gods bear witness—and that no one can lie before a heart tree."
"As for the gaze earlier—I think it ca from a greenseer."
"Greenseers can enter heart trees and observe distant places. And since heart trees can live for thousands of years, they can perceive both past and present across all lands where they exist."
"An oak lives three hundred years. A redwood, three thousand. But a weirwood—left undisturbed—can live forever."
Kal fished leisurely as he explained.
Erevi, however, paid little attention, instead focusing on roasting a fish over the fire.
The scent of sizzling flesh and fat spread through the air, making JJ drool onto the ground.
Especially as salt and spices were sprinkled over the crisping skin—the aroma beca irresistible.
While flas still raged at the center of the lake, the shore felt like a peaceful outing.
"So, are you planning to deal with that greenseer next?"
"…And do you think he already knows what's going to happen in the future?"
After finishing the fish, Erevi slapped JJ aside and casually asked.
Kal rubbed his chin, thought for a mont, then shook his head.
"Who cares? This ti we'll go together and block his door. I'd like to see what tricks he still has left."
"Woof, woof!"
"Mm, JJ's right!"
"I'll reward you later—cook two dishes!"
"Wuh?!"
…
The fire burned for an entire day and night.
The heart of the Isle of Faces was reduced to scorched earth.
When they stepped onto it again, the sense of being watched was gone.
Kal nodded in satisfaction and waved his hand.
Massive rune-carved stones appeared, forming a set of steps.
Then larger stones descended, assembling into a structure identical to the one in King's Landing.
Kal took out the crystal egg and carefully embedded it into the wall.
Erevi stepped forward and began channeling magic again, connecting runes and conduits to the crystal core.
The sa phenonon appeared again.
But this ti, as Kal placed his hand on the wall, his vision rose rapidly.
Everything around was shrouded in mist—except for one place, lit like a candle in the dark.
The next mont, a goat—its limbs bound—appeared out of thin air, then vanished the instant it touched the wall.
A minute later, a bull appeared in their vision—also bound, but with a red flower tied to its horns.
Kal and Erevi exchanged a glance, both visibly relieved.
But they were not done.
The next mont, five prisoners—bound hand and foot—were carried over by Robert.
"These condemned n are mine. The bull is yours."
Kal completed the transaction.
Then the five prisoners were sent back and forth through the wall more than a dozen tis, in all sorts of positions, with checks after every attempt.
Only then did Kal finally relax.
He withdrew his hand and turned toward Erevi, smiling.
"It looks like there's no problem."
"So—if nothing goes wrong—history will truly change at this mont."
"Erevi… here, upon history itself, upon civilization—we will carve our mark."
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