Meanwhile, on Dragonstone Island...
Beneath the night sky, a figure stealthily slipped out of the castle, navigating the shadows with practiced ease.
With caution in every step, it made its way to the shoreline.
Compared to a few days ago, the scenery changed, several inverted spears stuck on the shallow beach where the tide was rising, forming an atmosphere.
Through the dim moonlight, it was possible to vaguely make out several heads stuck on spears.
Heads of dragonkeepers, servants and guards...
The figure moved swiftly, making a beeline for a secluded cove where a small boat awaited.
As Rhaenyra approached, Robert emerged from the shadows, his concern evident. "Princess, the sea vessel is prepared, but are you sure about this?"
"I know what I must do, Lord Robert," Rhaenyra replied, her weariness evident beneath the moon's gentle glow.
Stepping onto the boat, her resolve unwavering, she spoke with determination, "Rhaegar has been missing for too long, and my father has yet to uncover any leads. I must return to King's Landing to search for my dragon."
"Princess, Prince Rhaegar has his dragon by his side. Perhaps the situation isn't as dire as it seems," Robert attempted to reason.
But Rhaenyra shook her head, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "I have waited long enough."
With that, she gestured to the sailors to set the small boat adrift, guiding it towards the awaiting vessel anchored in the vast expanse of the sea.
...
Meanwhile, within the castle's confines...
Viserys lay upon his bed, his slumber disrupted by a restless stirring.
A flicker of emotion crossed his serene features, his brow knitting with unease.
In his dreams, he had many visions.
A fire erupted from the heart of King's Landing, spreading it across the expanse of the Seven Kingdoms.
Amidst the fire, a figure emerged—a young man astride a black dragon, his hair shimmering like molten silver.
Brandishing a sword and spear with effortless grace, he cut through hordes of enemies.
None could stand against him, succumbing either to dragonfire or his weapon.
Amidst the chaos, a crown of darkness adorned his brow—a symbol of sovereignty forged in blood and flame, Viserys recognized that it was the crown Aegon the Conqueror had worn at his coronation.
As the flames danced higher, the features of the youth became clearer, drawing Viserys' gaze with an insatiable curiosity.
With bated breath, he strained to discern the face that emerged from the conflagration.
And then, in a moment of revelation, recognition dawned upon him.
"Rhaegar!..."
The name escaped his lips in a startled murmur, a testament to the profound impact of the vision that had seized his slumbering mind.
Plop...
Startled awake by the echoes of his cries, Viserys bolted upright in bed, his heart racing by his dream.
Gasping for air, beads of cold sweat dotted his brow.
"Rhaegar... It must be Rhaegar!" he muttered breathlessly.
For a fleeting moment, he hesitated, grappling with the surreal remnants of his dream before the truth solidified in his consciousness.
The visage of the young man, atop the back of a black dragon, was unmistakable— his firstborn, Rhaegar Targaryen.
In that instant of clarity, Viserys remembered.
The last remaining black dragon in all the lands—Cannibal—is under his son's command.
As his thoughts swirled, Viserys reached for the glass and bottle by his bedside, seeking solace in the familiar embrace of wine.
A soft knock interrupted, it was Harrold's voice, tinged with concern.
"Your Majesty, are you awake?"
Brushing the remnants of sweat from his brow, Viserys replied wearily, "Yes, just a dream."
With a creak, the door yielded to Harrold's gentle push, allowing the captain of the Kingsguard to enter.
"Your Majesty, your sleep has been very bad lately," Harrold said, his brow furrowing with worry.
Viserys offered a weary smile, his voice tinged with a newfound sense of purpose. "It's of no consequence. These dreams... they're different."
Savoring a sip of wine, a spark ignited within Viserys' tired eyes, his weariness momentarily eclipsed by excitement. "This dream, it's the one I've long sought. And now, it's finally found me."
Harrold's brow furrowed in confusion as he listened to Viserys' words.
"Prepare a grand feast; I have a feeling my son is returning," Viserys declared, his voice tinged with an unwavering conviction.
"Your Grace, Prince Rhaegar's whereabouts are still unknown. It may not be prudent to celebrate prematurely," Harrold interjected, his tone laced with bitter persuasion.
Viserys' expression shifted dramatically, his features taking on a solemn gravity. "No! My son has returned. He is the prince of prophecy, born amidst blood and fire."
"Your Grace..." Harrold faltered, at a loss for words.
To him, it seemed as though the king's longing had clouded his judgment, leaving him somewhat bewildered.
Viserys chose not to dwell on Harrold's skepticism, instead shifting his focus to more pressing matters. "How did the investigation fare?"
"The dragon guards and dragonkeepers on the island have been questioned, and several hidden passageways within the castle have been discovered. There are signs of recent activity within," Harrold reported, his expression hesitant.
"One of these passages leads to the Queen's chambers," he added, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
"Alicent?" Viserys' features registered a mixture of shock and contemplation. "You suspect the Queen's involvement in Rhaegar's disappearance?"
"This possibility cannot be discounted, Your Majesty. However, concrete evidence is needed before any conclusions can be drawn," Harrold analyzed objectively.
Viserys closed his eyes briefly, his countenance betraying no discernible emotion as he contemplated the gravity of the situation.
After a moment of silence, he reopened his eyes, resolve etched into his features. "Initiate covert surveillance on Alicent's activities. Report any findings to me immediately."
"Yes, Your Grace," Harrold affirmed, nodding in acknowledgment of the king's orders.
Just as Viserys was preparing to depart, a sharp knock echoed from the door, and Robert's voice pierced through the silence.
"Your Majesty, the princess has clandestinely departed the castle and returned to King's Landing by boat," Robert informed, his tone tinged with urgency.
"Seven Hells! Who dares to defy my orders!" Viserys erupted in fury, his voice reverberating through the room as he vented his frustration. "Summon the Maesters at once. Order them to dispatch a message to have Rhaenyra placed under house arrest the moment she sets foot in King's Landing!"
"As you command, Your Grace," Robert responded promptly, his demeanor reflecting a mixture of apprehension and deference.
With a sense of dismay lingering in the air, Robert hurriedly made his exit, feeling torn between his duties to the king and his loyalty to the princess.
In the end, he found himself caught in the crossfire.
...
As the first light of dawn filtered through the window, Rhaegar stirred in his bed, roused by the familiar beep of his system.
"Exploration complete. Retrieve the lost treasures," the notification flashed across his screen.
Blinking away the remnants of sleep, Rhaegar's gaze fell upon the red-painted mask nestled beside him.
"The exploration complete..." he murmured, his mind slowly clearing as he reached for the mask.
[Cursed Mask of the Shadow]
Exploration Progress: 100%
As he absorbed the information displayed before him, Rhaegar felt a surge of satisfaction. Last night's battle replayed in his mind, and he broke the curse.
Beside the red mask lay a faint purple glow, catching Rhaegar's attention. With a smile, he extended his hand, poking at the halo.
"Relic retrieval successful. Initiating detection..." the system announced.
"Detection complete. Epic relic identified: Blessing of the Lord of Light."
With a metallic clink, a black iron token adorned with a crimson heart fell into Rhaegar's palm.
Studying the token intently pondering. "A blessing? Like the White Hart's Blessing?" he mused, reading the system text about the token.
"The power of the gods lies dormant within. Do not underestimate it, for it shall unveil miracles in your time of need," he read aloud.
Rhaegar carefully stowed away the token, recognizing that its potential. Perhaps, in the future, an opportunity would arise to unlock its hidden powers.
"Let's get up..." Rhaegar's voice echoed through his chambers as he roused himself from slumber and donned his attire.
The shadow was killed and his adventure in the Peninsula had ended, now it's time to go back to Dragonstone Island and join his family again.
(Word count: 1,381)