First Moon 278 AC

  It has been quite some time since my quill graced this diary, simply for the fact that I left it. Aerys had recalled me back to King's Landing some time ago I decided that it would be best for this tome to remain on Dragonstone... where it was hidden. I am now neither in the capital nor Dragonstone, instead I write from behind the black walls of Volantis. How that happened I shall get to later in this entry. I'll recount what occurred these past few years in chronological order, where my memory remains applicable of course.

  To begin, my time on Dragonstone was far more eventful than I ever would have anticipated, of course there was my discovery of Visenya's hoard... there was also a visitor of sorts. Shortly after my discovery of the magical trove, an extremely unexpected individual arrived. Melisandre, the Red Witch and future supporter of Stannis as well as centuries old hag if the television show was to believe anyway. It was certainly a surprise when I learned of a strange women wearing red preaching on the beach to the masses, burning effigies of the seven... it certainly caused the septon to rage. It frankly terrified me, why wouldn't it? She was here too early several decades early in fact, I couldn't help but worry about why she appeared especially now. So I hesitated, then she came to me.

  As soon as she was allowed into the castle amongst the usual days petitioners, the air began to smell of smoke and ash. The temperature in the room shot up and became stuffy at best or scorching for those wearing thicker clothes. It was a powerplay not her usual aura of course yet it worked many in attendance, especially amongst the few nobles with their furs, visibly began to sweat. I was quite thankful I forgoed such attire instead I wore a silk robe imported per by request from Yi Ti. It was amusing watching peoples reactions to my blatant breaking of noble etiquette, yet why should I care what they think especially in contrary from my own personal comfort. She was the last petitioner on purpose in fact though I never asked the reason, I can guess why. Either way she requested a private audience which I granted, I simply wasn't at a level of power to refuse any request from her. Well I wasn't at the time anyway.

  The castellan and my guards of course protested but well... when a Prince of The Blood demands something, it's usually given. What follows was an... interesting conversation.

  "You burn brighter than most, young prince." she said her first words to me in the privacy of that room. "Yet your flame is... unusual, not quite of Valyria, nor the Light of R'hllor. It is something different altogether."

  She sat across from me, the wood of the old weirwood chair creaking under a supernatural weight.

  "Yet, I have seen you in my fire. A sign from my Lord... you are important to the grand plan so educate you I shall."

  I decided in that moment to be partially honest with the red witch. It was perhaps a dangerous gamble yet it worked out in the end, it paid handsomely in fact. I spoke of dreams, of ancient knowledge that called to me, of powers I felt stirring in my being. I even through some vague references to the writings of Lovecraft, none of it was particularly true of course yet that doesn't matter for the uneducated or superstitious. She instead listened with the attention of a scholar, drooling over some newly discovered clay tablet that for once wasn't a complaint about the quality of copper. She never once looked at me like I was mad, instead it was a practically religious fervour, it was unsettling if I'm being honest. For around eight months moons she instructed me in the mystical arts of Asshai. The way of the Shadowbinder, not the rituals of R'hllor of course. I had no interest in being her god's servant, she tried to convert me of course but gave up in the end. Only I can claim the achievement of breaking Melisandre's will to convert someone. She taught the magics of fire, blood and shadow... ironically her teachings slotted rather well with Visenya's own writings, perhaps theirs an connection there.

  "Magic is intent made manifest." she taught me "It comes from numerous sources, mine comes from my faith. Yours from your blood and spirit, your will shapes reality with effort Prince Aelyx... learn to trust it."

  Under her guidance, I've progressed far beyond my admittedly crude experiments with rats and animals. She helped me understand the differences between the forms of life energy, how to draw power without completely draining the source, but more crucially how to hide and shield my workings from the notice of others. I am no master, fire and shadow don't bend to my will as the should yet I have sufficient influence over such forces. I will have to travel east to further my studies and eventually I will master them.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  The summons from King's Landing came via raven in early 277 AC. Aerys demanded my return for reasons he didn't deign to explain, I don't he knew his reasoning either simply one of his flights of fancy. Melisandre departed soon after, she claimed the Lord of Light had called her elsewhere. She was helpful but I'm glad I no longer have to deal with her presence. The capital felt smaller upon my return, more stifling I imagine age held apart to play. My brain was more advanced than I had left... more advanced than any ten year old brain should have been. Perhaps it had something to do with my unique circumstances, my magic or perhaps both. It would never not be entertaining to watch grown men and women drop everything they were doing to obey me... a child. Either way, I fear the years on Dragonstone had spoiled me. Worse yet, Aerys had deteriorated dramatically. The man had before shown atleast occasional flashes of lucidity, well now he spent his days lost in his delusional fantasies. Conspiracies in every wall and enemies hiding behind every pillar. Rhaegar had withdrawn further into his prophecies, he seemed to spend many days at the ruins of Summerhall oddly enough. It was all so suffocating... so I decided to escalate my own extraction from the mess.

  Looking back perhaps it was rash but I think it was best to separate myself from interrupting the canon more than I already have.

  My opportunity came later in that year, the Defiance of Duskendale of course.

  Denys Darklyn, Lord of Duskendale in all his stupidity and delusions was a useful tool for my designs. His seizure of Aerys was the spark I had been so patiently waiting for, funnily enough amongst certain individuals in the Red Keep sighs of relief were shared. While the Small Council of lickspittles debated rescue attempts and Tywin gathered forces for his siege, I made my own preparations. If Aerys unexpectedly died at Duskendale then the realm would be throne into a brief chaos, if he didn't then... well I already know that outcome. Either way, my time in Westeros was up and ending.

  On around the third night of the crisis, I put my plans into acti motion. I fled using the tunnels of the Red Keep Cheese had mapped out for me years ago, I was only accompanied by most trusted of servants... those I had personally moulded. We arrived at Dragonstone after a few hours of rough sailing, there we slipped into the castle using an entrance Visenya had constructed. I took what I needed: gold from my various caches, Visenya's journals, my own research into the supernatural and certain artificacts of interest. Everything else, mostly mundane writings, I left behind. From Dragonstone, an arranged ship waited. The captain asked no questions, he simply took the offered coin and off he went. By the time news broke out that Aerys had been rescued alive and certainly by the time news of my vanishing act reached him, I was already sailing east across the Narrow Sea. We had a brief stop in Tyrosh to resupply before we braved the Stepstones, thankfully we encountered no brigands... the journey around the heel of Essos was rather quiet.

  Volantis welcomed me like I had hoped it would, not since the days of Saera Targaryen had a scion of the forty graced the city. The Old Blood practically bent over backwards to get in my good graces, get good relations with the prince now and you may be afforded a marriage to one of your daughters in the future. The thought of blood purity and status makes them drool like slobbering hounds... it's disgusting frankly.

  I now write from a manse in the Eastern District, bought from the generous donations from the many old blood families. From my observations it appears that this manse was constructed for a more minor one of the forty dragonlord families in the days of the Freehold. To describe the building... well I can use no other word but opulent or perhaps decadent. It has what you'd expect from Valyrian architecture, a certain obsession with draconic motifs, yet there's something more grand about it I suppose. It has it's own interesting features, an eternal flame at it's hearth for one. There is also a room that appears to have been constructed for the use of rituals and spell craft, it'll have to be renovated but it was a nice surprise. Something not completely unexpected were... the slaves that came from the property. I considered freeing them but that would be a mistake in such a society where slavery is heavily entrenched, the best I can do is treat them as well as I can.

  Anyway, I have already made contact with certain members of Volantis's mystical community. Much to my surprise their remains a select group that practices a form of heavily bastardized and watered down Valyrian sorcery. I have nothing to truly learn from them but good relations cannot hurt. If Dragonstone's septon were here, I think he'd die of a heart attack from all the items that would be considered heretical abominations that I've gathered now. Westeros feels far away from here... it's a good feeling. Let it burn itself to ashes fighting over that ugly throne.

  With this as my base I turn away from the west. I'll return one day but for now... to go west I must go east to the shadow. Then and only then shall I trample the rising sun beneath my feet.

  ~ Aelyx