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(EM Vol. 2: A Wandering Melody) Chapter 91: Of Rotten Shells
🕑 Added 2025-10-23 14:01:50 +0000 UTCChapter 91: Of Rotten Shells
123 AC, Chroyane
There was also a stillness, a silence that felt unnatural and unnerving, like a serpent poised to strike. Despite the terrible sight before her, Helaena couldn’t help but smile. After all, adventure awaited her.
Helaena Targaryen sat on the familiar boat, the same one that she had sailed on during her expedition to Valyria, still staring at the ruins ahead. They hadn’t yet reached the city proper, still drifting slowly down the river, the Rhoyne. She couldn’t even see the city, only a pale mist swallowing both river and ruin, hiding broken stone shapes too ruined to even name.
Yet, despite the terrifying atmosphere, the princess couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and trepidation at their quest. Knowing that she would go on this expedition with the Potters, she had decided to spend as much time as she could researching Chroyane.
After all, events around the Potters clouded her visions, and while it was refreshing to know so little about what was to come, it was just as terrifying, and she felt more confident after preparing.
There were surprisingly very few tomes in the library of King’s Landing about the Rhoynar in general. She wasn’t sure if it had been out of spite for Dorne’s defiance, given that many of its inhabitants had blood ties to them in some way, more infamously, House Martell, who descended from Queen Nymeria herself.
Nevertheless, she found mentions of the Rhoynar in a few books that described their wars with Old Valyria. The Rhoynar had been surprisingly effective in resisting Valyria’s growing influence, with most of the earlier conflicts being between them and Volantis, who had been a Valyrian colony at the time. She did not know why the Valyrians hadn’t simply used their dragons to conquer them from the start, but a few people attributed it to their water magic.
Perhaps they thought that they presented no real threat to their might, or perhaps it was the opposite, the Valyrians knew that they could win, but that it would be a pyrrhic one at best, as they would likely lose dragons in the conflict, and that they would not gain much, even should they win.
This, of course, changed when Volantis convinced three young Dragonlords to join them to attack a Rhoynish port during a conflict between the two powers, which the Rhoynar retaliated by killing them. An army of Dragonlords from Valyria then attacked Chroyane in retribution, the seat of Prince Garin, the man who had led the Rhoynish army, and led waste to it. Not much else is known about what happened during this conflict, only that both the Valyrians and Rhoynar perished, with no signs of either, or that of the former’s dragons, with only a grey fog swallowing the entirety of Chroyane whole, with no one who entered the ruins ever returning.
Most called it Garin’s curse, but the author, some Maester, ridiculed the notion. Of course, he almost mentioned that it was the first appearance of Greyscale, having postulated that the disease likely originated from the ruined city of Chroyane.
Of course, this last act of defiance did help matters, with Valyria having to respond to have much of its nobility and military assets killed in a single war and cemented its power by destroying every single Rhoynish city, with the only survivors being Queen Nymeria, who had taken her people and fled to Dorne.
That was the extent of the knowledge inside the Red Keep, which was very disappointing, given that there were entire sections of the library dedicated to the types of fish that one can find in Riverrun.
Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if the Potters had found more in the Citadel. And so, for the first time since their journey began, she spoke up, unprompted, “Why Chroyane?”
Lady Daphne gave her a proud smile, while her husband tilted his head, obviously pretending to be confused, “What do you mean?”
Helaena rolled her eyes, “Why did you choose to come to Chroyane? The mystery of what occurred here is not as significant as Valyria’s. I presumed that someplace like Sothoryos would have been more interesting.”
She expected many reactions to her question. Mostly some kind of lesson about some fantastical and mythical beast in Rhoyne. However, she did not expect to see Lady Daphne giggling while the sorcerer turned away, embarrassed, muttering to her, “That’s mean.”
Still confused, Helaena turned towards his wife, whose laughter doubled, and the woman must have noticed her questioning look, “Don’t worry, my dear. It’s just that you described Harry’s motivation so perfectly. He’s getting predictable in his old age.”
“I am not old,” Lord Harry protested, “And I am not getting predictable, or else we’d have been going to Sothoryos now.”
“You literally proposed that as our next expedition.”
The mighty sorcerer pouted at his wife’s comment and turned back towards the princess, who had started to giggle at the scene before her, “To answer your question, I’ve heard from a few trusted sources that there are a few answers that I would find here.”
“What kind of answers?” The princess couldn’t help but ask.
“Interesting ones,” Harry replied cheekily, obviously relishing in his vagueness, “After all, it wouldn’t do to deprive you from the beauty of discovering it with us, would it?”
Helaena huffed, knowing that this was the most that she would ever get out of him, and yet she still tried to dig further, “Is it related to whatever pushed you to rob the Citadel?”
Harry snorted, but his gaze turned serious for just a fraction of a moment, “Funnily enough, I didn’t take anything about Chroyane at all. But that didn’t mean that there weren’t some very concerning things inside. Did you know that there were vaults beneath the Citadel?”
“I do,” she answered, surprising him, “Mother liked to tell me stories of Oldtown, and the Citadel featured in a few of them. She said that it’s where they put the oldest tomes, the ones that would soon fall into disrepair, so that no one could damage them further before they are copied. I think only Archmaesters could access them.”
Daphne giggled at that, “Really? Is that what they said?”
Helaena didn’t have the time to reply as Harry interrupted her, “I never liked the idea of the Citadel. It’s not that I don’t like the idea of a place of learning, quite the contrary, but if you think about it, the Citadel’s purpose isn’t to educate, is it? It’s a place to train advisors to lords, and a few become influential enough to shape the realm's men. The question is what could an organisation this powerful have in its vaults? Well, I suppose I could say that it ‘had’ them in its vaults.”
That stopped Helaena short, and she started to think about it. She never truly thought of Maesters much, other than as a place of learning. And yet, it made sense, in a way. She had seen her father and many lords take the advice of Maesters on matters that they did not know overly much, trusting them fully as their advisors.
Looking back, the Citadel was likely second only to the Iron Throne in terms of influence and power, yet they never truly advertised it. She had never truly considered the Citadel as its own entity, not truly, because she saw each Maester as a part of his lord’s retinue. However, taking them as a group, one whose influence spread across the continent, one whose services, especially when it came to healing, were necessary for most lords, well, the image in her head wasn’t a very nice one.
Before she could respond, Harry’s face turned serious, and he looked into the distance, “We’ll finish this conversation later. We’re about to have company.”
The moment he said so, a figure jumped from the fog and landed on the ship. Helaena could see that it was a man made entirely of stone, who creaked with every movement. They were barely standing for more than a tenth of a second before some invisible force pushed him back a few feet.
Lord Harry’s eyes narrowed at this, for some reason, and then sent the man flying back with another wave of his hand.
A second later, a delighted grin appeared on his face, and he raised his hand, releasing a burst of golden light and wind, which cleared the mist around them, revealing dozens of stone men on the shore of the river that they were traversing, ready to attack. With a wave of Lady Daphne’s hand, dozens of trees appeared from the ground, and stabbing them in the chest with their sharpened branches.
Still, Helaena couldn't help but find it strange how this fight caught their interest when many of the horrors in Valyria hadn’t. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice it. That’s absolutely brilliant.”
His wife seemingly agreed with his remark, “It is quite impressive, and it does explain much. But it is concerning for it to have lingered for so long.”
Helaena then couldn’t help but ask, “What’s impressive?”
“Oh. I suppose you wouldn’t have noticed either. It's the mist. It resists any magic going through it. It doesn’t exactly dispel it, only slowing it down, weakening it, until it collapses on itself. I didn’t really notice it because I cast a spell so that we wouldn’t have breathed it in, and there wasn’t an actual curse in the mist. I have to admit that I never really thought of trying to negate magic use this way, but it’s definitely ingenious to tie the effect to a mist, especially near a river. No wonder the Dragonlords were gone. A dragon’s flight is tied to their magic; they would have crashed to the ground if they stayed in the mist for too long.”
Ah, that explained why Harry’s magical push at the attacking stone man was so much weaker, and why she couldn’t see the mist around them anymore. She turned towards the fog once more, her unease growing now that she understood what lay behind it.
With the magic mist being banished by Lord Harry, Helaena was able to finally take a glimpse from afar of the city of Chroyane. She couldn’t see everything, with the mist still obscuring past Lord Harry’s spell, but it was enough.
The city, if one could call it that anymore, was in ruins. Large sections of it were submerged in the river, while the rest was fractured and partially collapsed. Most buildings had no roofs. In the distance, tilted towers and spires loomed over the river. There was a larger structure behind them, but the mist seemed thickest as it approached the centre of the city.
It must have been beautiful once. She could almost see hints of it in the remnants of precision and beauty that she could see, but that was it. She was so distracted by the sight that she hadn’t noticed something leap out of the water and jump towards her.
Helaena instinctively ducked and closed her eyes, only to freeze as she realised that nothing had happened. When she opened her eyes, she saw a gigantic snake frozen in the air like a statue. If it hadn’t tried to attack her just a few moments prior, she would have assumed that it truly was a statue. It looked like it was made of stone, with half of it looking almost decayed in some way. There were broken chunks from it that didn’t reveal any flesh inside.
She was so taken by it that she almost jumped as she heard a cough behind her. She turned and saw Lady Daphne giving her an unimpressed look, and Helaena blushed, “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“You’ve been relying too much on your divination,” she replied in an admonishing tone, “As impressive a Seer as you might be, your sight has limits. Even if Harry and I were not here, you would not have been able to use your gift in this place, especially with the mist affecting you. Your abilities are quite powerful, but that doesn’t mean that you should rely completely on them.”
Helaena nodded resolutely, “I won’t.”
“Do you have a weapon on you?” the older woman asked.
She didn’t reply and did her best not to look away from the woman’s gaze. Thankfully, Lady Daphne only rolled her eyes, “You gave the sword to the Lannisters, didn’t you? Harry said that you might. You should have asked for one. We’re not exactly hurting for weapons.”
Out of nowhere, a simple, sheathed dagger appeared in the woman’s hands. “We found this in the Citadel’s vaults. It’s one of a pair, but Harry wants to keep the other one since we didn’t really have the time to research it properly.
Helaena unsheathed the dagger and gasped as she saw that the blade was white. It even seemed to release a faint glow and pulsed faintly in her grip. In pure shock, she closed it. She had so many things to ask about the dagger, but the woman gave her a small smile, “Good. Now, let’s go back to my wayward husband before he does something reckless. Again.”
She followed the woman’s exasperated gaze and froze as she saw Lord Harry having conjured a few glowing magic circles around the frozen giant serpent. Then waved his hand and the circles spun quickly enough, somehow eating away the stone, until the snake had been all but rendered to dust.
However, the stone did not disappear and was instead gathered around one of the glowing circles, which started to distort itself and behave slightly erratically. The sorcerer focused, and the circle blackened and solidified. For just a moment, it seemed to have stopped, only for the magic circle to suddenly turn to stone and shatter, releasing a loud screech that echoed in the distance.
The sorcerer’s eyes widened at the result, before letting out an impressed whistle, “Damn! I thought I had it. I haven’t been stumped by a curse in a while.”
“What is it?” his wife asked.
“Some kind of conceptual corruption would be my guess. It’s the only explanation I have, at least.”
Helaena would have loved to focus on the conversation, only for something else to grab her attention. In the distance, she could see something move; no, it was multiple things. They looked like large horns approaching them.
Even in the riverbanks, she saw movements, in the ruins, likely more stone men who would be attacking them. She could feel something coming, as if the world was holding its breath.
Suddenly, massive creatures rose from the river around them, turtles the size of their ship. Their shells were uneven, covered in patches of rough stone. Some had sections of their natural scales missing entirely, replaced by a dark, crusted layer. There were also patches of stone around their skin, even on their face, but she could see their eyes glaring hatefully at them, their heads turned toward the boat, something that she hadn’t thought possible for an animal to express.
One of them let out a loud cry. The sound echoed through the ruins and was soon followed by others. The river became rough. Waves crashed against the hull of the ship, tilting it slightly. Water splashed over the edges.
Lord Harry reacted quickly by raising his hand, and frost started to spread around the boat, freezing the water around several of the turtles, trapping them in place. They thrashed and struck at the ice with their limbs, trying to break free.
The sorcerer walked forward and spoke up with authority, “Do not attack me again. We come in peace. I don’t know if you can understand me or not, but this is your last warning.”
That didn’t seem to deter them again, as one of the turtles opened its mouth, having somehow cracked the ice around it, and it seemingly prepared to attack. Lord Harry looked almost solemn at the sight, but before anything happened, a loud roar cut through the air.
It was deep and forceful, louder than the turtles, loud enough to make Helaena cover her ears. The ship rocked slightly from the sheer force of the sound, with even debris from nearby ruins crumbling and falling into the river.
The turtles froze, then quickly dove beneath the water without warning.
Before Helaena could ask the Potters about what had happened, the mist shifted in the distance, parting enough to show something massive in the distance. The river’s movement stopped for a moment before suddenly taking their boat towards the giant figure.
The sorcerer and his wife seemed on guard, but not afraid, and Helaena trusted them to defend her. After Valyria, there was very little she wouldn’t trust them with. When they came closer, Helaena couldn’t help but gape as she saw a giant turtle that somehow dwarfed the others that she had seen before. The beast was even larger than Vhagar. Its shell alone was as large as a small keep, and unlike the others, its surface was smooth and uncorrupted. There were no cracks, no signs of stone, nor decay.
There was also a sense of majesty to it, a faint feeling in the back of her mind telling her that this turtle was more than it appeared.
She was proven correct when the creature’s maw opened, and instead of an attack, it spoke, “WHY HAVE YOU COME, STRANGER?”
AN: I’m not sure about this chapter. I wish I’d done a better start for the Chroyane arc. I wrote it while I was in a bit of a hurry, and I guess that it feels a bit off. It's probably not my best work, but things should pick up from here, and the following conversation will explain a bit more about a few things I hinted at in this chapter. As usual, I don’t mind rewriting this depending on your feedback, so please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.
Comments
Marius Petrauskas
Nice
athass_prkr
I haven't fully decided yet. I'm planning on doing a poll to get your opinion on what you'd like to see. Personally, I'm leaning towards Worm, Arcane, or Marvel, but I'm not particularly attached to any of them.
Arthur Andersen
what world wil they go to next?
athass_prkr
I really like this idea :)
Mauricio Perez
I wonder what was found in the Citadel vaults, perhaps old personal books from lords that had magical abilities and how to use them and what's so interesting about the pair of daggers, it almost looks like there made of the same material as Dawn with them being white.
Gr1ffin
It'd be an interesting change of pace if he did similar to the Butterfly God, and decided to help the Rhoynar Gods. I've seen a lot of fics just finish the area off to get rid of the greyscale curse, but nothing to really have the Rhoynar be reborn as a civilization. I think that would be neat to try if you want.
