Tyria

A full month passed before the group finally emerged from the vast Withered Woods.

The traces of a road beneath their feet gradually became clearer.

More and more enormous building ruins appeared on either side, sunk into the black earth.

Towers that had once soared into the clouds, adorned with dragon sculptures, were now nothing but twisted skeletons leaning toward the sky.

They had clearly reached the ruined outskirts of a once-magnificent city.

"We're here."

She tugged at Liu Qian's ash-covered sleeve and reminded him quietly.

During their time together, Liu Qian's High Valyrian had improved rapidly, and he could now hold a conversation.

Liu Qian stopped and followed the direction Jelena was heading, peering into the thick mist ahead.

The first thing he saw was an enormous gate that rose from the ground like a mountain.

It was built from countless massive black stones patterned with spiral whorls, each block unimaginably large.

The stone gate was majestic, with the ravages of time leaving deep black stains across its white surface.

Huge cracks crisscrossed it, and thick, sickly green moss covered some sections, making it look all the more eerie and decrepit.

Ancient walls built from the same enormous black stones joined the gate on either side, stretching endlessly into the mist.

The walls were covered in huge impact craters, black scorch marks from flames, and horrific breaches left by magical explosions.

Many sections had collapsed entirely, forming enormous slopes of rubble.

Yet the surviving sections remained tall and thick, stretching on without end.

Was this the entrance to Tyria?

Liu Qian was awestruck.

The city gate alone was as tall and imposing as the Wall.

And this was merely one city in the northern reaches of the former Valyrian Freehold.

The power and splendor of Valyria at its height were almost impossible to imagine.

From behind the slit in her helmet, Jelena's purple eyes glanced at the awe on Liu Qian's face.

She said nothing, merely raising a hand to point at an arched entrance at the base of the enormous stone gate, barely wide enough for a few people to walk abreast.

Set into the magnificent gate's base, the entrance looked like an insignificant wound on a giant beast.

"Welcome to Tyria."

Jelena's voice came through her visor, cold and utterly flat.

It was impossible to tell whether she was welcoming him or making a declaration.

Once they emerged from the oppressive gateway tunnel, the view opened up before them.

An immense, broad avenue ran straight into the depths of the city, paved with countless white marble slabs cut with extraordinary precision.

The slabs were as smooth as mirrors. Even beneath a thin coating of ash, they still reflected a leaden gray gleam.

Magnificent buildings made from enormous white stones stood in close-packed rows on either side of the avenue.

Most were square and solid, rising dozens of feet high.

The buildings bore obvious signs of repair: cracks had been filled with hardened lime, and bricks in the walls had been replaced.

The Doom had destroyed this place, but the people of Tyria had rebuilt it.

As the group headed toward the city center, the scenery changed dramatically.

The tall, imposing square buildings gradually gave way to crumbling ruins.

Countless enormous blocks of white marble lay carelessly tossed and piled together, forming intimidating hills of rubble.

Walking among them, Liu Qian felt as though he were passing through a graveyard of giants, silently bearing witness to the horror of the catastrophe that had buried a glorious civilization.

"Why haven't these buildings been rebuilt?" Liu Qian asked.

Janice explained, "These were all temples. Tyria's priests used to pray and praise the gods here."

"Temples? Did they worship the gods of Valyria?"

"All kinds of gods. Valyria was a city-state with freedom of worship. Every god in the world could find a place here. Besides the Valyrian gods, there were the Lord of Light, the Seven, the Weaver of Fate, the Three-Headed God, the Night Lion, the gods worshipped by the Forest Walker, and many others."

Hearing this, Liu Qian marveled at Valyria's tolerance. Perhaps that was the confidence of the dragonlords.

After some effort, the group reached the end of the great pale avenue.

Tyria's Warlock High Tower stood there, its thick, dark shaft a full two or three hundred feet in diameter.

Its spire pierced the leaden sky and vanished into the smoke, its height impossible to judge.

A man's voice greeted them with a hint of mockery.

"Jelena, I didn't expect you to make it back safely. You aren't hurt, are you?"

Liu Qian looked toward the voice.

An exceptionally tall, powerfully built man was slowly stepping out from among a squad of guards clad in reddish-copper armor.

He too had the long, molten-silver hair characteristic of Valyrians, carefully tied behind his head to reveal a sharply chiseled face. A broad-bladed longsword with an ornate crossguard hung at his waist, faint runes also showing on its scabbard.

Most striking was his suit of reddish-copper plate armor, the same kind Jelena wore, its surface likewise etched with intricate spiral whorls and ancient pictographs.

"Spare me the false concern, Teres."

Jelena's voice was icy. "I encountered an outsider while I was out this time. I need to report to the Blood Mage."

Teres followed Jelena's gaze to Liu Qian.

His Eastern features-black hair and black eyes-stood out sharply among the silver- and gold-haired people of Tyria.

He looked Liu Qian up and down with a contemptuous smile. "Another outsider. He looks like he'd be good at manual labor."

"By the way, my warriors spotted a chimera to the south, along with some unusual activity from Scaleclaws. You'd best be careful if you leave the city anytime soon. Don't get yourself killed out there."

Jelena spoke coldly.

Teres looked startled, then shook his head and replied spitefully, "I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I won't be leaving the city for a while. Even if I did, I wouldn't get hurt so easily. After all, I wouldn't bring my little sister along."

Jelena glared fiercely at him, and hostility hung thick in the air.

Just then, a pale young man in robes called down from the steps of the Warlock High Tower:

"Lord Osarion, Tyria's great Blood Warlock, bids the outsider enter!"

Liu Qian understood most of what he said and climbed the steps. Jelena tried to follow him, but Teres blocked her path.

"The Blood Mage asked for him alone."

Jelena

frowned and stepped back.

Janice gently shook her sister's arm. "Sister, he'll be all right, won't he?"

Jelena stroked Janice's head to comfort her. "Don't worry. He'll come back out."

But in truth, she was a little worried herself.

Teres chose that moment to interject, "Once he comes out, he'll have to get to work. There are still plenty of fortifications on the walls that need clearing. We can't do it all ourselves."

Following the young man, Liu Qian entered the High Tower.

Passing through the spaces beyond one heavy metal door after another, Liu Qian reached a circular hall so enormous it made his heart quail. Glowing gemstones covered the stone walls, illuminating everything within with perfect clarity.

"Lord Osarion asks you to wait here for a while. He'll be here shortly."

With that, the young man left the hall, leaving Liu Qian standing there alone.

Liu Qian began examining the hall. It was completely empty, with neither tables and chairs nor ornaments.

Only four enormous murals adorned the surrounding black stone walls.

Liu Qian turned his attention to the murals.

The murals on the black stone had crimson backgrounds.

In the first mural, countless people prostrated themselves, bowing to seven figures at the center. Those seven figures wore different colors: lustrous white, topaz yellow, sky blue, emerald green, and shimmering purple. In their midst stood an even larger, more imposing figure composed of two pure colors: black and white.

What were these people doing?

Liu Qian continued on to examine the second mural.

Against its crimson background, people stretched their legs in exaggerated strides, as though running-or fleeing-with terrified expressions on their faces. Behind the fleeing people stood an enormous black, square building, daubed with chaotic streaks of red that resembled blood.

He frowned and turned to the third mural.

There was a conspicuous gap between the second and third murals, exposing the pitch-black stone.

The scene depicted a group of silver-haired, purple-eyed people entangled with people wearing horned helmets, their poses thoroughly indecent.

Liu Qian studied their positions closely. Yes, the silver-haired, purple-eyed people were all male, while the horned people were all female.

Was this the origin of the Valyrians?

Liu Qian continued looking. The fourth mural followed directly from the depictions of horned people in the previous one, showing the silver-haired, purple-eyed ancestors of the Valyrians beneath more than a dozen molten volcanoes.

Some used fire magic to cut stone, while others used precision tools to move heavy white marble and construct magnificent buildings.

Towering, roofless spires sprouted through the city like bamboo shoots. Temples as white as jade crouched like giant beasts at its heart. Every seat in the Dragonlord Council, which represented the pinnacle of Valyrian power, was occupied. Dragons filled the sky with their circling forms, while slaves mined ore amid the volcanic lava.

It was a scene of flourishing prosperity.

After examining all four murals, Liu Qian found the last two easy enough to understand, but he could make no sense of the first two.

Still, he noticed something strange. Apart from the gap between the second and third murals, all the murals connected to one another.

He ran his hand over that blank space, black as night, and felt the faint chill of the smooth stone.

Had there once been a mural in this blank space?

If so, what had it depicted?

Liu Qian asked himself silently.

"It was the Long Night..."

A hoarse, dry, elderly voice sounded directly behind Liu Qian, startling him into a cold sweat.