Third Moon 275 AC
Success at last. My letter to Rhaegar has borne fruit and proved successful. Far more than I dared hope or even expected, perhaps the man is more competent that I initially judged him to be. My dear "brother" has always had a certain weakness for dramatic gestures and other such bothers. Especially of the mystical persuasion. I told him of my apparent dreams, portents and even appealed to him that I should get to see our ancestral seat. I'm sure he liked that idea. The dragon must have three heads he believes, yet he is still at this point of the belief that he is The Prince that was Promised. While that shall change I'll ingratiate myself to him as one of these... heads. It serves my purposes so it shall be done.
Aerys agreed with a surprising readiness. Perhaps Rhaegar's words cut through his insanity and brought about a moment of lucidity or maybe this is simply his madness at play? Either way I'm informed that I shall be departing for Dragonstone in around a month... no a moons turn. Ser Gwayne shall be accompanying me, though I'm concerned that he is beginning to outlive his usefulness to me.
The timing is of course fortuitous. My experiments with magic have reached a particularly delicate stage and concealing such... large operation is no longer feasible here. There is only so much my little legion of mutes can do to help hide my activities. Dragonstone shall provide more privacy and much more freedom to explore, lets say darker inclinations of magic. I've set aside my research into wildfire fully aside for now. The risk has long since outweighed any potential benefits. The island offers more promising avenues of study. It holds certain texts that have survived Jaehaerys purges of knowledge. I know it does.
The Queen... I can't think of her in any maternal way knowing what her fate is to be, it isn't worth investing emotions into. Anyway, she seemed relieved at the news of my departure. Not for herself that is but no, for me seemingly. Aerys madness only swells more each day and she would have her son safely away from the fires the father shall start. She is far too kind of a person for a world like this. I almost feel sorry for her.
Almost.
My finances continue to grow, mostly from catspaws I've used to set up ventures in the eastern lands. The right investments do garner a large amount of coin. Even if said coin is mostly secure with the Iron Bank.
There is a certain power in Dragonstone... I can feel it from across the very bay. I shall understand this power and harness it.
Seven years now... it'll be enough time that I know.
~ Aelyx Targaryen
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27th Third Moon 275 AC
Found an interesting text about the construction of the Valyrian demon roads, the spellwork involved while vague proved to useful enough for my studies. I sadly can't replicate the process due to my distinct lack of dragon but knowledge is still knowledge. I shall have a copy made with the relevant information and have the original returned before anyone truly notices it's absence.
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Fourth Moon 275 AC
The Valyrians didn't build this fortress no, they grew it, shaped it through magic and dragonfire. The blood of thousands was used in the magic needed for the very creation of these stones. Then warped and crafted into shape by way of dragonfire. Stone twisted into a grand fortress through sheer will... and yet compared to Valyria proper this is but an outpost. Yet the creation of such a wonder is also the cause of the islands general sense of gloom for a lack of a better word.
Perhaps morose would be a good term? Yes... morose. That feeling is not from a natural source, instead it's the leftover mark of the thousands of most likely slaves that's souls were harvested to create the fortress. Dark and grim but that is simply the norm for this world.
The journey here itself was unremarkable, save for the growing senseation of... well something. Power thrums through the very foundations of this island, perhaps the volcano is the source. I can feel it now as I write, a constant vibration just below the threshold of normal human perception. Everyone else even Rhaegar seems to be oblivious to it... how fortunate for me. I feel it in my bones and my blood, hell my blood seems to respond to the feeling like it was struck with a tuning fork. It's fascinating.
Rhaegar's welcome was predictably dramatic, I'm not even sure if he realises it with his long black cloak fluttering in the wind. He waited at the top of the bridge into the fortress proper. It may have annoyed others, especially nobles. The host must always greet the guest from the port or some other nonsense. I simply don't care for politicking. I shall excuse the mans excesses. He's almost definitely convinced himself I am somehow important to the prophecies he believes in. His obsession with promised princes and certain songs blind him to anything truly important.
The Others aren't the threat that one may think they are, at least not to me. No I see them as a sort of test against humanity. They serve to wipe the slate clean of weak civilisations, like a cycle I suppose.
My new chambers are located in the Sea Dragon Tower. Rhaegar claimed it was to give me more "privacy for my studies", I'm almost inclined to believe him. I suppose it also serves to keep me from discovering his own studies in the Stone Drum. Of course I already know what he does with his time, yet lets not tell him that little factoid. This tower contains several hidden rooms not listed in any official records. I've already discovered three in my short time here. One room appeared to be a dilapidated shrine to the Fourteen Flames. Useless but still interesting.
I've already had my servants begin setting up my laboratory and of course pilfer the library much to the maesters horror, idiotic grey sheep. The isolation and size of this new location shall prove extremely useful for my experiments. Rhaegar himself will be departing for King's Landing soon, leaving me effectively in control of the isalnd. I shall begin... inserting my own staff in key positions of course.
Last night I dreamt of something else... beasts not from any history I know. These were older, more primal, creatures of magic. True magic not just weak flesh. Creatures from the deep, from the dark and the void. They whispered secrets of power and names to me in a language I both understood yet didn't. I must now be careful. You never know what may occur when you deal with beasts worse than anything Lovecraft conceived. The anger of thousands linger in the stones and beneath that... shadows sing.
Still for the first time since coming to this blasted world... I feel alive.
Now I shall prepare for what is to come.
~ Aelyx of Nu
