Skoll went to check on Rhaella the following day and found a sight that brought a genuine, gentle smile to his face.

The former queen was standing beside her bed, attempting to take small, halting steps with Hati and Viserys providing support on either side of her.

She kept one hand buried in Hati’s thick fur for balance while her other hand was held firmly by her son.

Her first step was wobbling and unsteady, but she completed it.

Skoll realized then that the silver flower provided by his father had facilitated a recovery far faster than even he could have anticipated.

Ser Willem stood nearby in the room, watching the scene with wide eyes as if he were witnessing a literal miracle.

Skoll moved to stand beside the old knight, and together they observed as Rhaella steadily gathered her strength.

She began to move around the room with increasing confidence. Daenerys was jumping around in excitement, encouraging her mother with high-pitched giggles while clapping her small hands together in rhythm.

Rhaella had noticed Skoll the moment he entered. She offered him a warm, tired smile as she navigated the floor toward him with slow, deliberate steps.

“Thank you, Ser, for helping me walk again,” she said softly. She reached out to pat Skoll’s chest affectionately before turning back to her practice.

Rhaella was forty two years old, and though Skoll was well over two centuries in age, his physical appearance remained that of a man in his early twenties.

The sight of him often made her think of her eldest son, Rhaegar. Skoll did not mind the comparison or the maternal affection, as he had grown quite fond of the woman’s resilient spirit during their time together.

“I will go and make the final preparations. We shall leave for Nightshade before the dawn,” Skoll announced with a nod before departing.

He began the tedious task of drawing a massive teleportation circle in the main hall of the mansion.

As he worked, he would occasionally glance up to see Rhaella walking through the halls, talking softly with her children while Ser Willem trailed behind them like a silent shadow.

The servants of the house looked upon her recovery as an act of the divine. They would bow deeply whenever she passed, though they did not dare speak to her or offer their congratulations.

They feared that any unauthorized interaction might displease the stern Ser Willem.

The process of drawing the circle took several hours. Because it was intended to transport a large group of people along with a significant amount of luggage and supplies, the geometry had to be perfect.

By the time he finished, the afternoon sun was beginning to dip in the sky. It was decided that they would depart immediately after a final lunch, and Ser Willem had already ordered the servants to pack every essential and valuable the family owned.

While the royal family ate, Ser Willem gathered every servant in the house into a single line before him.

“Today, we are leaving for a place far away. I understand that some of you may not wish to leave Tyrosh or your homes here. Therefore, all of you have a choice. You may choose to follow us, or you may stay,” he told them, his voice characteristically gruff.

He gave them time to consider their futures while the final crates were moved.

In the end, only three servants chose to remain with the family. One was the maid who had cared for Rhaella, another had looked after Viserys, and the third was the woman tasked with caring for Daenerys.

All three of them feared and disliked Willem as much as the others did, but they chose to follow because the individuals they were tasked with caring for had shown them kindness.

An hour after lunch, everything was ready. Skoll instructed the group to stand in specific locations within the elaborate circle.

He and Hati took their places in the center to act as the anchors for the magic. Hati placed a heavy paw on a specific rune and began to channel his own magic into the array.

With a brilliant flash of blue light, the space around them warped and bent. An instant later, the entire group found themselves standing in the spacious, high ceilinged hall of a different house.

“Welcome to Nightshade. This is my home,” Skoll said, spreading his arms to introduce the bewildered group to the estate.

He noticed Rhaella swaying on her feet, looking as though she were about to collapse. He moved swiftly to catch her, holding her steady before she could hit the floor.

He had waited for her to be able to walk before attempting this journey because he knew that if he had teleported her while she was still bedridden, her curse might have reacted violently to the strain and killed her. Even now, she was overwhelmed by fatigue.

“I must take her with me for the final stage of the healing,” Skoll said, looking directly at Willem.

He had made sure not to use the word ‘cure’ in front of Rhaella or the children.

“I will come with you,” Willem replied, stepping forward. He paused when Skoll shook his head.

“Look after the children. They are in an unfamiliar environment and will need you,” Skoll insisted, gesturing toward the wide eyed Targaryen kids as he placed Rhaella gently onto Hati’s back.

“Trust me.” He added, giving the old knight a reassuring look.

Willem looked conflicted for a moment, his legs were still mid step. Then he straightened his back and gave a firm, single nod. Skoll returned the nod, and a moment later, he and Hati dissolved into the shadows.

They reappeared shortly after in the warm, golden atmosphere of Luxarion’s lair. Skoll found his father in his human form, sitting comfortably and reading a thick book.

Luxarion looked up and did not need to ask any questions.

He had already deduced the situation. With a casual wave of his hand, Rhaella was moved from Hati’s back to a soft, comfortable bed.

Luxarion appeared to be a man in his late thirties with hair like spun gold and eyes that glowed like molten gold. He approached the bed to examine Rhaella’s condition.

“What is the cause of the curse, Father?” Skoll asked.

“A malevolent demon that resides in the land of her ancestors seems to have a wish to claim her soul.” Luxarion explained.

His hand began to glow with a soft golden radiance as his divinity traced the threads of the curse back to its source.

“Why would it target her?” Skoll asked with a deep frown.

“Because she carries the blood of Old Valyria. This entity believes it has a rightful claim over every soul with the blood of Valyria.” Luxarion said.

He turned his gaze toward a specific horizon, sensing the anger of the being on the other side.

The demon Luxarion spoke of was enraged that Rhaella had somehow cheated death. It had intensified the curse because it believed her soul was its property by right.

“Allow me to accompany you,” Skoll requested, sensing that his father intended to confront the entity immediately.

The answer came when the environment around them changed abruptly. They were no longer in the warm cave but were instead floating high above a landscape of smoking ruins and jagged earth.

Skoll looked down to see nothing but ash and the remnants of a once grand civilization.

Luxarion scanned the ruins of Valyria once before raising a hand toward the ground. A moment later, a mighty roar shook the very foundations of the city.

A massive dragon emerged from the rubble, thrashing and clawing at the air as it tried to break free from an invisible, divine grasp.

“You see, Son, in this world, demons and spirits are often formed from the collective ideas and fears of the people,” the gold dragon explained casually.

Restraining the beast in front of him required no more effort than breathing.

“This one was born when the survivors believed a vengeful god had caused the Doom of Valyria. It gave life to this demon in the form of a dragon. Its name is Doom.” He added.

Luxarion waved his hand again, and the demon was suddenly unable to speak or roar.

Skoll looked closely at the creature. It had four limbs and two massive wings, appearing as if it were carved from obsidian.

Deep cracks ran through its hide, leaking molten lava, and its flesh seemed to be fused with a massive amount of red gold Valyrian steel.

“Would killing it free her from the curse?” Skoll asked.

“It would,” his father replied. He turned to look into Skoll’s eyes. “Tell me, do you truly trust this woman?” He asked.

“I trust her, and I have grown to care for her,” Skoll said with a firm nod. Rhaella had always treated him with a gentle kindness that reminded him of a mother’s care.

Luxarion nodded in response. He reached out and gripped the head of the demon known as Doom.

With a surge of power, every soul the dragon had trapped within its form was released, dissipating into the natural afterlife of the world.

Doom could only watch in defiant fury, looking like a helpless child in the hands of a giant.

“The curse he placed on her creates a permanent connection between them. It would be a waste to simply destroy all of this power,” Luxarion mused to himself while eyeing the struggling demon.

Even though Luxarion was handling the entity with zero effort, Doom was still incredibly powerful compared to the other spirits of this world. Luxarion nodded to himself and snapped his fingers. In an instant, the demon dragon vanished entirely.

“Did you kill him?” Skoll asked.

“Something better. I gave his power to her,” Luxarion replied with a shrug.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep