Cool winds at the ferry, long roads home

As the Glutton's wings pierced the morning mist, Daemon looked down and saw the entire Crab Claw Peninsula. Pale golden sunlight shone on the swamp, the puddles like scattered silver covering the depressions, and dark green pine forests undulated along the hills, like a velvet carpet woven for the earth.

The coastline meanders like crab claws. Smoke is rising from the construction site at Dragon's Roost Port. Logs piled on the shallows are brownish-yellow, and several craftsmen are bending over to reinforce the pier piles. Grey Ghost skim across the water, startling a flock of white-winged waterbirds. As their wings sweep across the shimmering waves, they blend seamlessly with the blue of the distant Narrow Sea.

The wind, carrying the scent of pine needles and seawater, wafted by. Daemon's fingertips traced the scales of the Glutton. This land, once considered a wasteland, was now harboring the warmth of new life.

The journey home after parting has finally returned to its starting point. Daemon has just returned to Dragon's Roost Port, has just landed and is looking at the letters sent by the "newly dispatched" maesters from the various lords' Citadel across Crab Claw Peninsula. Completely bewildered, he can't help but think of Vaegon is probably already far away in the Citadel.

Let's rewind to the Blackwater Rush a few days earlier, where we bid farewell to Vaegon. The wind along the riverbank carried the chill of early autumn, brushing against the reeds at the ferry crossing and making the white sails of Reach 'House Tyrell fleet flutter loudly in the bend.

Vaegon's ship was already moored at the shore, its hull painted a dark gray, echoing the grey robes of the Citadel. The deck was piled high with his books, an astrolabe, and herbal illustrations compiled by his assistant, Maester Bernard, exuding a scholarly tranquility.

Ser Martyn Tyrell, the former Master of Coin who had recently attended the Small Council, was returning to Highgarden in the Reach with his wife, Florence, and so he gave Citadel Vaegon was already planning to return to Oldtown, a ride along.

The ferry crossing was unusually lively that day, but it lacked the usual hustle and bustle. Only the low murmur of conversations mingled with the sound of the wind, like a soothing farewell song.

Almost a year has passed since Daemon's journey through Oldtown, and his bringing Vaegon from the Citadel to King's Landing.

Originally intended to participate in the tournament celebrating King Jaehaerys's fiftieth anniversary of reign, he was repeatedly delayed by family matters and Aemma's misfortunes. Now, the time has finally come to set off back to the Citadel.

King Jaehaerys stood at the front, leaning on his ruby scepter, his long silver hair trembling slightly in the wind.

He looked at his young son, now dressed in a grey academic robe, his purple eyes filled with complex emotions—a mixture of reluctance, relief, and an indescribable heaviness.

He and his wife, Queen Alysanne, both knew that in old age, every parting could be a matter of life and death, and who knew when they would meet again.

"Vaegon," the old king's voice, hoarse with age yet still steady, "the Citadel's research is important, but don't forget to return to King's Landing's Landing often. The Red Keep's doors are always open for you."

Queen Alysanne stepped forward and gently took Vaegon's hand in hers. Her fingertips were warm, yet trembled slightly. "My youngest son, remember to take good care of yourself. Life in the Citadel is tough, so don't stay up all night stargazing. Remember to have Bernard brew you some calming herbs."

She pulled a brocade pouch embroidered with a three-headed dragon from her sleeve, inside which were dried Dragonblood Grass. "Take this with you too. It can refresh you and ward off evil spirits, just like having your mother by your side."

Vaegon bowed and accepted the brocade pouch, carefully putting it away. His face remained calm as usual, but a hint of tenderness lingered in his eyes. "Father, Mother, I understand. I will send word back immediately if there is any progress at the Citadel. You must also take care of yourselves and not overwork yourselves with trivial matters."

Baelon stepped forward, patted his younger brother on the shoulder, his crimson-gold-trimmed tuxedo fluttering slightly in the wind. "Vaegon, you are the pride of the Targaryen. Remember, no matter how much research the Citadel undertakes, your family will always be your support."

If needed, just give me a letter, and I'll ride my Vhagar to the Reach to fetch you.

Vaegon nodded, his gaze sweeping over his brother's old wound on his ribs, and softly instructed, "Brother, please take good care of yourself. Don't get the old wound wet, and remember to apply the medicine on time."

Gael stood beside Baelon, her light purple eyes filled with reluctance, holding a cloth bag in her hands. "Vaegon, this is a handkerchief with star charts that Little Mei and I embroidered. You should be able to use it when you look at the stars. There are also some honey cakes, you can eat them if you get hungry on the road, they are all your favorite flavors."

She paused, then lowered her voice, "In a few days, after Little Daemon and I return to Dragon's Roost Port, we'll send you a message to tell you about what happened Dragon's Roost Port."

Vaegon took the cloth bag, his fingertips brushing over the delicate stitches on the handkerchief, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Thank you, little sister, that's very kind of you. I'll keep an eye on the construction of Dragon's Roost Port for you. If you need any help from the Citadel, just let me know."

Jocelyn took Rhaenys's hand and stepped forward, whispering, "Vaegon, be careful on the road. If Aemon is watching from heaven, he will be proud of you."

She handed him a small wooden box. "Inside are some Dragonglass fragments from Dragonstone. You might find them useful when you study astrology."

Rhaenys nodded in agreement, while Corlys, holding a brass telescope beside her, added, "The House Velaryon silver ships frequently pass by Oldtown. If there are any books or instruments that need to be transported, just send me a message."

Their two children, Laena and Laenor, ran to Vaegon. Laena handed him a seashell. "Uncle Vaegon, this is a glowing seashell from Tidehead Island. It glows at night, so you can use it when you're reading."

Laenor shyly handed over a note with a drawing of a silver ship. "Uncle, I drew this for you."

Vaegon bent down to accept the children's gifts, patting their heads. "Laena, Lannar, Laenor, Lannino. Your great-uncle will keep them safe."

Viserys, with Rhaenyra in his arms Aemma supporting his arm, and Jeyne standing beside them, slowly walked over.

Viserys ' face was still somewhat pale, but his eyes were firm. "Uncle Vaegon, have a safe journey. Aemma and I are very grateful for your care during this time. If we have the opportunity to visit the Citadel, we will definitely pay you a visit."

Rhaenyra stretched out her chubby little hand and hugged Vaegon's clothes. "Uncle Vaegon, come back soon so Bernard can tell me stories about the stars."

Vaegon gently patted Rhaenyra's head, then patted Jeyne's head. "Okay, Uncle will be back soon, and Bernard will tell you more stories about the stars."

Daemon and Daemon Targaryen stood by, watching this scene unfold.

Daemon stepped forward and handed over a small, clear glass bottle. "This is a medicinal powder that Alys Rivers prepared in Dragon's Roost Port. It might be useful for your herbal research. Be careful on your journey, and if there's any unusual activity in the Citadel, send word immediately."

Daemon Targaryen, unusually, put aside his carefree demeanor and said seriously, "Uncle, although I often bickered with you during our King's Landing, you were truly impressive, always leaving me speechless. Don't be too bored back at the Citadel; go out for a walk occasionally."

Rhea House Royce stood beside Daemon Targaryen, dressed in bronze armor, a runic amulet in her hand. She said nothing, only giving Vaegon a slight nod in farewell.

Spending this time together, she developed a greater respect for this composed Targaryen prince.

Scholar Bernard was already standing on the ship, holding a wooden box full of instruments, and bowed to the crowd. "Your Highnesses, Your Excellencies, it is time for us to set off. If we delay any longer, we may miss the tide."

Vaegon took a deep breath, his gaze sweeping over everyone present, memorizing each familiar face.

He bowed again to Jaehaerys and Alysanne: "Father, Mother, your son takes his leave."

Then he nodded to everyone in turn, turned around and stepped onto the diving board.

Perhaps it was because of the parting today that even the usually "sharp-tongued and arrogant" Vaegon rarely put away his tough exterior and gently bid farewell to these younger members of the family.

The sails rose slowly, filling the boat with wind, and it slowly sailed away from the ferry. Vaegon stood at the stern, looking at his family on the shore, and waved.

King Jaehaerys raised his scepter and waved it gently in the direction of the ship. Queen Alysanne finally couldn't hold back her tears and held Jocelyn's hand tightly.

Crown Prince Baelon stood beside his parents, watching the ship's silhouette gradually disappear into the distance, his eyes filled with solemnity.

Gael waved back until the boat's shadow became a tiny dot and disappeared at the confluence of the Blackwater Rush and the Narrow Sea.

The wind still blew at the ferry crossing, rustling the reeds as if whispering farewells. The Targaryen stood on the shore, reluctant to leave.

Daemon walked over to Gael and gently took her hand. "Don't be sad, Vaegon is just going back to Citadel, we'll see each other again."

Gael nodded, wiping her eyes. "I know, it's just that I suddenly realize that parting is always hard to bear."

She looked in the direction where the ship had disappeared into Blackwater Bay. "Corlys is also going to the Stepstones tomorrow, and we'll be returning to Dragon's Roost Port in a few days. Our family will be separated again."

Daemon gently patted her back. "All good things must come to an end, but as long as our hearts are together, distance is nothing. Once Dragon's Roost Port and our subsequent castle are completed, we can invite everyone to visit, and then we can reunite."

Viserys held Rhaenyra in his arms, looked at Aemma beside him, and whispered, "Yes, separation is for a better reunion."

Once Aemma is feeling better, we'll go visit your Dragon's Roost Port and see the new town that Little Daemon and Gael have built."

Aemma smiled and nodded, her eyes filled with anticipation for the future. "Okay, then we'll take Rhaenyra with us, and pick Jeyne up from the Vale, so the children can see a different kind of scenery."

The wind at the ferry crossing gradually subsided, and sunlight shone through the clouds, gilding the Blackwater Rush with a golden glow.

The group slowly turned around and walked towards the direction of King's Landing. Their steps carried the heaviness of parting, but also contained the anticipation of reunion.

Vaegon's ship had entered the Narrow Sea and was heading towards the Oldtown.

He stood at the stern of the boat, opened the cloth bag that Gael had given him, looked at the star chart handkerchief and honey cake inside, and then touched the Dragonblood Grass brocade pouch he kept close to his body, a hint of warmth flashing in his eyes.

He knew that this parting might not be the end, but rather the beginning of their next reunion. His research in the Citadel and the concerns of his family and relatives were all waiting for him to fulfill.

At that time, at the ferry crossing in King's Landing's Landing, only the sound of the wind rustling through the reeds and the silent anticipation of a future reunion remained.

At that time, Corlys's departure and Daemon and Gael's return journey were about to slowly unfold in this atmosphere of parting.

Maesters were already rare in Westeros. Apart from the Grand Maesters who attended the King's Council to serve the King, represented the Citadels and the Church, and the advisors who served the royal family in the Red Keep, they were the maesters of the castles of the lords of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

The remaining feudal lords, only a few of whom were second-ranking feudal lords below the top-ranking ones, would have such a "cherished" scholar in their households.

As for Crab Claw Peninsula, a desolate place in the eyes of the world, in the past, it was considered good if there was even one half-baked scholar in the one or two top vassal territories on the peninsula!

But now, on the Crab Claw Peninsula, almost every noble territory has a newly dispatched scholar.

So how could Daemon, who had seen Vaegon off, have foreseen that he would so quickly turn to Vaegon for help, nor did he anticipate that his first challenge upon returning to Crab Claw Peninsula would be these newly dispatched maesters from the Citadel, sent to various lordslands?