Your comments, reviews, and votes really help me out so much and they make me super motivated to keep working on this story! Thank you! Pat**on : CaveLeather
Black stone.
Exactly like the piece Limpick had seen on the docks back in Riverrun—dragonglass. But this one was bigger, the size of both his fists, sharp-angled and smooth as glass. Sunlight slanted through the window and hit it, throwing back a dark-red glow that flickered like blood.
Limpick stared at the stone, heart hammering again, but he kept his face blank.
"You're looking for this?" he asked.
Marwyn shook his head. "Not this. I'm after something else. But this—" He weighed the dragonglass in his palm. "This is a holy relic I found in an old tomb in the Riverlands. Crystallized flame. In Volantis the high priests use it for divination, for driving out evil, for—" He paused and glanced at Limpick. "You don't need to know the rest."
He slipped the stone back into the cloth bundle, tied it shut, and set it on the altar.
"You know this castle," Marwyn said. "So tell me—do you know of any place here that's very deep underground, somewhere with scorch marks, with—"
He stopped, searching for the right words.
"Something the dragons left behind?" Limpick finished for him.
Marwyn's eyes lit up.
Limpick hesitated. He knew the place—the underground cavern where Ember had drained the dragon bones. He knew what Marwyn was hunting: ancient dragon remains, leftover residual flame, anything that hadn't been sucked dry yet. But Ember had already taken almost everything. All that was left were useless shards and dust.
He couldn't just blurt it out. He had to play it slow.
"I know a spot," Limpick said. "Deep underground. You have to crawl in. There are bones—really big ones."
Marwyn's breathing changed. "Take me there."
"Not right now," Limpick said. "It's a long crawl. We'll need torches and rope. I can't do it alone—we have to get ready."
Marwyn stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "Fine. Prepare tomorrow. We go the day after."
Limpick nodded and turned to leave.
"Wait," Marwyn called behind him.
Limpick stopped and looked back.
Marwyn picked up the cloth bundle from the altar, pulled out the dragonglass, and tossed it to him.
Limpick caught it. Heavy—way heavier than it looked. The stone was cold, but the second it touched his hand golden text exploded in his mind—
[Detected high-purity dragonglass ×1]
[Absorbable]
[Estimated evolution gain: 1.0%–1.2%]
His hand twitched, but he steadied it. He looked up at Marwyn.
"Keep it," Marwyn said. "Consider it a welcome gift. The Lord of Light gives his followers fire in the dark and warmth in the cold."
Limpick closed his fist around the dragonglass, feeling its solid weight. Cold, heavy, but those golden words still burned in his head—1.0% to 1.2%. He took a slow breath and tucked the stone inside his shirt.
"Thank you," he said. "Thank the Lord of Light."
He walked out of the room fast, not stopping until he reached an empty corridor. He leaned against the wall, pulled the dragonglass out, and held it up to the light. Jet black, glassy, sharp edges catching that faint blood-red gleam. He closed his eyes, opened them again. The system text was still there—1.0%–1.2%.
"Fucking broken," he muttered. The words echoed down the empty hall.
He shoved the stone back into his shirt and headed outside. He needed to find Ember and Plume. Who should get it? Ember was already at 41.5%—another 1% would make it 42.5%. Plume was at 28.3%—it would hit 29.3%. Which was smarter? He thought about it the whole way and still wasn't sure. But one thing was clear: he had to join the Lord of Light's church. Not for faith, not for food, not for shelter.
For more dragonglass.
Marwyn had handed him one like it was nothing. How many more did they have back in Volantis, King's Landing, everywhere else? If he became one of them, he could get his hands on more. One stone gave 1%. Ten stones gave 10%. Ember could jump from 41.5% to 51.5%. Plume from 28.3% to 38.3%.
He stepped through Harrenhal's gates and walked toward the Gods Eye. The sun was sliding west, stretching his shadow long across the grass.
"Lord of Light," he muttered. "R'hllor. Fine. I'll believe."
He touched the dragonglass through his shirt—cold, heavy.
"I'd worship any god for this."
In the end he gave the dragonglass to Plume.
It wasn't some careful calculation. When he reached the lake, Plume flew straight to him first. It dropped off Ember's back, landed on his shoulder, and stared at the bulge in his shirt with those gold-and-silver eyes. It gave a low call—deep like a bronze bell, but soft, almost pleading, the way a kid reaches for something it wants. Limpick pulled the stone out. Plume snatched it in its beak, flew to a nearby rock, and started pecking. The dragonglass was hard; every strike threw off sparks and made a sharp cracking sound.
Ember crouched beside them, massive head resting on the ground, golden eyes watching Plume work. It didn't fight for the stone, didn't complain—just watched, tail tip tapping the dirt in slow, heavy thumps that made the ground tremble.
Limpick sat on a rock and watched Plume peck the dragonglass apart and swallow the pieces. Each chunk it ate made its body glow—white light starting at the chest, flowing up the neck, over the head, along the wings, all the way to the tail tip. The fine scales under its feathers grew thicker, spreading from the claws up past the knees, almost to the thighs. Its beak curved sharper, the serrated edges deeper, like a folded dagger. Its eyes changed too—the gold one burned brighter, molten; the silver one turned colder, like winter ice on the Gods Eye.
[Plume: Evolution progress 28.3% → 29.5%]
A full 1.2%. A little better than the system estimate.
When Plume finished the last piece it shook its wings and took off. It circled once over the lake, wings spread wider than before, pure white and blazing in the sunset like living light. It reflected silver across the water, then flew back and settled on top of Ember's head, curling into a tight ball. Those gold-and-silver eyes half-closed, watching Limpick.
Limpick reached up and touched its chest. The scales under the feathers were cool and hard, but he could feel the heartbeat racing underneath—fast, like a bird's.
"Worth it," he said. "One stone for 1.2%. What if we had a hundred?"
Ember blew a puff of smoke and ignored him. Plume gave a single bright call that echoed far across the lake.
That night Limpick didn't go back to Harrenhal. He found a sheltered spot by the water, leaned against Ember's warm side, and lay down. The dragon's scales were pleasantly hot—better than any campfire. He pressed his back against them and let out a long breath. Plume perched on Ember's head, a white fluff ball with gold-and-silver eyes cracked open, staring at the moon.
The moon was full, turning the Gods Eye into a sheet of silver. In the distance Harrenhal stood black against the sky, its five towers rising like burned fingers.
Limpick lay there running his hand over Ember's scales, thinking.
Dragonstone.
He'd heard the name back in Riverrun—an island in Blackwater Bay, the old Targaryen seat. Aegon the Conqueror had sailed from there with his three dragons and burned half of Westeros. After Robert's Rebellion the Targaryens fell and Stannis Baratheon took the island. Stannis—Robert's younger brother, Master of Ships, commander of the royal fleet. People said he was a hard man who didn't follow the Seven or the old gods. He followed the Lord of Light. He had a priestess with him—Melisandre. Supposedly she could see the future in the flames.
Limpick rolled over.
Dragonstone had a mountain made entirely of dragonglass. That's what Marwyn had said, eyes shining the same way the merchants' eyes had when they spotted something valuable.
"Dragonstone," Marwyn had told him, "has more dragonglass than anywhere else in the world. The whole mountain is made of it. After Lord Stannis took the island, the stuff became cheap. He lets the Lord of Light's church mine it and ship it to King's Landing, Oldtown, Volantis. The high priests use it to make flame mirrors for divination, holy relics for exorcism, and—"
He had stopped there, given Limpick a quick smile, and said no more.
Limpick hadn't asked questions, but he remembered every word.
Dragonstone. An entire mountain of dragonglass.
Not one piece, not ten, not twenty—a whole mountain. If he could get his hands on a few hundred pieces, what would Ember and Plume become? The system panel still showed "Juvenile – Early Stage." How many more stages were there after that? He couldn't even guess. One stone gave 1%. A hundred stones would give 100%. Ember was at 41.5% now—another 60% would push it past 100%. What did 100% even look like? Would it fly? Breathe real fire? Grow as big as Vhagar?
Limpick closed his eyes, the moon still bright on his face, Ember's steady warmth against his back, Plume's soft breathing above them.
He smiled in the dark.
For that kind of power, he'd follow any god.