The lair chosen for Isolde lay beneath the cliffs of Castle Peverell, hidden within a vast cavern carved by the sea. Its entrance opened toward the coast far below the castle, concealed by jagged stone outcroppings and shadowed by the towering cliffs above.
Within, the cavern stretched deep into the mountain, its entrance appearing unremarkable to any casual observer. That illusion ended the moment one crossed its threshold.
Magic reshaped the space beyond.
Through the use of the Undetectable Extension Charm, the cavern's interior had been expanded far beyond the limits of the mountain containing it. What appeared from the outside to be little more than a sea cave opened into a vast domed chamber within, large enough for Isolde to fly, rest, and live without restraint.
There were no chains, gates, or stone walls to confine her. Thaddues had no intention of repeating the mistakes of the Dragonpit. The cavern was not a prison, but a sanctuary worthy of a dragon.
Sunlight filtered through enchanted openings woven into the stone above, bathing the sanctuary in a soft, perpetual glow. Fresh air circulated freely through a network of hidden passages and wards, carrying with it the scent of earth, water, and the sea beyond the cliffs.
To the outside world it was little more than a forgotten sea cave, but within lay a dragon's domain large enough to rival the Dragonpit many times over, yet built without the flaws that had diminished generations of Targaryen dragons.
Thaddues stood upon a rocky outcrop overlooking the cavern while Isolde rested nearby. The dragon's immense sapphire hue body stretched across the cavern, her scales gleaming beneath the arch lamps suspended in the air.
Most dragonlords would have built another dragonpit and called it wisdom.
Thaddues was not one of them. He himself wasn't a dragonrider but a wizard who is familiar with this world.
The Dragonpit of King's Landing stood as proof of a mistake repeated for generations. Dragons were creatures born for open skies. They were not meant to spend their lives beneath stone ceilings, chained within walls built by fearful men. Given enough years, confinement weakened them. Their growth slowed, their tempers worsened, and something essential within them seemed to wither.
He would not allow that fate for Isolde.
Thaddues lowered his wand and surveyed his work. After hours of creating her lair in the morming. It's finally done.
A low rumble escaped Isolde as she lifted her massive head. Looking pleased at the lair created for her by his lord.
Thaddues smiled faintly.
"This is only temporary,"
The dragon nudged him with her snout. Despite her attempt at gentleness, the gesture nearly sent him stumbling from the rocky outcrop.
He steadied himself and shook his head.
"Still haven't learned your own strength."
The dragon merely blinked.
--
"Isolde's lair, the blue sapphire dragon of House Peverell successfully created."
--
Once the concealment wards were complete, Thaddues turned toward the center of the cavern.
"Start the portkey creation," Thaddues said. He raised his wand, and a circle of stone rose from the earth at his command.
--
"Creation of Portkey initiated,"
--
Using the system's assistance, he began constructing a permanent Portkey directly into the stone. Ancient runes etched themselves into its surface as strands of magic threaded through each symbol, binding the enchantment to a fixed destination anchored to Thaddue's presence.
The enchantment would remain dormant until activated.
Should a threat arise that could not be answered by ordinary means.
The Portkey would serve as his final card.
Its destination was set: Thaddue's location or his magical imprint.
In her current form, Isolde was among the most powerful beings in existence. If trouble ever arose, he wanted her one Portkey away.
The final rune flashed silver, then faded as the magic settled.
A faint pulse lingered in the stone before it went still.
--
"Portkey successfully established."
--
Thaddues studied it for a moment longer, then stepped back and gave a small nod.
"It's done. Suit yourself," he said to Isolde.
Isolde rose, circled the cavern once, then settled into her chosen roost. A meter far from the dormant portkey.
As soon as she closed her eyes, Thaddues felt an unfamiliar magic emanate from her body, spreading through the cave and resonating faintly with his own.
And this stunned him. Did his magic turn her into a magical dragon? What is this unfamiliar magic?
To confirm he asked the system.
"Analyze Isolde,"
--
"Analysis initiated… scan complete. Displaying results."
--
A window full of information appeared in his sight.
--
[PERSONAL INFORMATION]
Name: Isolde
Age: 35
Origin: Former merchant's daughter from King's Landing. She left the city to begin a new life with her daughter. Following her daughter's death, she chose to become a dragon.
Status: Grieving the loss of her daughter.
[RACE DATA]
Race Name: Selyrian Sapphire Dragon
Magic Type: Resonance-based magic / Fire immunity trait]
[SYSTEM NOTE]
Selyrian blood successfully integrated into the transfigured dragon. Power output exceeds standard Valyrian lineage benchmarks.
--
Thaddues was stunned.
"What Selyrian? Magic resonance?" He found himself lost.
What he did was turn her into a dragon using his combined magic but why does the system tell him all of this?
And the unfamiliar magic he felt is selyrian magic?
--
"Due to the host's failed output, the System had to modify the final result to prevent backlash from the combined magic."
--
"What failed output? What backlash?" he asked, confusion creeping into his voice.
Isolde, still resting in her place, lifted her head slightly to glance at him—then calmly looked away again, as if she had not witnessed her lord speaking to himself.
The system explained.
--
"Failure to revert her to her original form after the transfiguration constitutes a failed output. The combined use of transfiguration and mind arts can create a dragon with retained consciousness, but if the magic cannot be sustained, it will result in backlash. Isolde would lose herself and become a wild dragon. Integrating her essence into the Westerosi lineage ensures she retains her sanity until such a time when her original form can be restored."
--
Hearing the system's explanation, Thaddues fell silent.
He had believed his dual mastery was flawless. Even if reversal had been uncertain, he had remained complacent in his own skill. After all the master card was given by the system.
Then what of Lily?
Did his transfiguration of her suffer the same flaw?
Before he could ask the system continued.
--
"The transfiguration performed without System assistance is considered a failed output. Even the castle itself has already been modified by the System. The host can be assured that, even without active use of household magic, the System will maintain and anchor the structure."
--
Hearing this, Thaddues extended his awareness across Castle of Peverell.
At once, he felt it—threads of magic woven through the foundations, stabilizing the entire estate. And beneath it all, another source of power, anchored not to the ground but to the sky itself.
He exhaled slowly in disbelief.
So this was what the system truly was.
Something godlike in scale.
A thought rose in his mind—whether the System was using the laws of this world to stabilize and anchor magic within the castle—but before he could ask, his attention was drawn back to Isolde's status window.
"What is this Selyrian? I've never heard of it. Even Fire & Blood makes no mention of it," he murmured.
He sought clarification.
For the first time, the System did not respond.
--
"Host current authority is insufficient.
--
"What the—"
His patience finally snapped. The System wasn't fully open to him now—it required authority, conditions he hadn't met yet.
That realization irritated him more than he expected.
He exhaled slowly, forcing it down.
So it wasn't absolute after all.
"Tell me, what functions do you have aside from analysis and assistance?" he asked.
--
"As the major update was successful, the System now has three primary functions: Assistance, Analysis, and Conversion."
--
Thaddues walked towards the exit as he spoke again.
"Tell me all of it. So I will be aware."
--
"The Assistance function helps the host with daily tasks and anything he does. The Analysis function provides information and solutions. The Conversion function turns wizarding items given by the System into corresponding items in Planetos. It can also apply beyond items—for example, to Isolde's current race."
--
This time, Thaddues stopped in his tracks, nearly losing his footing.
Isolde lifted one eye toward him, then calmly looked away again. It was his lordship, after all.
Thaddues confirmed it then—the System's Conversion function alone was already life-changing.
A sword once owned by Gryffindor… could be turned into Valyrian steel...
A single galleon into gold dragon.
His mind went straight to the consequences.
This function alone could elevate his financial standing beyond measure, especially with Saltshore still in need of full recovery.
It was like having a Philosopher's Stone built into the System.
Although disappointed by the System's limitations, he was satisfied with its current functions. He looked at Isolde one last time.
"Be safe here, Isolde. When I return, I'll give you a surprise."
He did not promise her daughter's return. He would not give her that kind of hope.
Until the time came, Thaddues refused to offer her anything false.
Isolde looked at him and gave a slight nod. He smiled in return before Apparating from the cavern, reappearing at the entrance of the main keep.
His arrival startled the new recruits training in the field. But once they recognized him, they quickly straightened and saluted.
Thaddues gave a brief nod in acknowledgment and continued toward the main keep.
Esteban was already waiting at the doorway.
"My lord, the carriage is prepared," he said as he accompanied Thaddues, walking with him toward the hall and the study.
When they arrived, Thaddues took his seat and gestured toward the chair his desk.
"Sit."
Esteban obeyed.
As soon as he sat, Thaddues took a pouch from his wizard's robe. Inside were several galleons he had received from the System before arriving in Westeros. He let the System's Conversion Function do its work before setting it on the table.
The old man's brow furrowed at the sight of it. He recognized it immediately.
"Expand the restoration of Saltshore."
"My lord?"
"I don't want half measures. Repair every damaged road. Improve irrigation throughout the region. Create work and trade opportunities for the people. If villages in Saltshore need rebuilding, rebuild them. Bring in additional craftsmen if necessary."
Esteban looked at him.
"That will require a substantial amount of coin."
Thaddues pushed the pouch toward Esteban.
"Spend it."
"My lord—"
"Do not concern yourself with the cost. Concern yourself with results."
The steward studied him carefully.
Eventually, he nodded.
"As you command."
"The people suffered because of this war. I want recovery measured in months, not years," Thaddues said firmly.
Understanding crossed Esteban's face.
"I'll make sure this is arranged before we depart for King's Landing, my lord."
Thaddues said no more. Instead, he summoned a parchment and quill, laying out his ideas and instructions in writing to ensure every detail aligned with his plan.
When noon came, Esteban informed him that lunch had been prepared, but Thaddues declined.
Half a day passed in steady preparation.
It was time to leave.
King's Landing awaited.
Outside the manor, a sturdy carriage stood ready for the journey, drawn by four strong horses.
Inside, within a reinforced chest, rested a glass bottle.
At first glance, it looked like simple glasswork—plain, almost decorative.
But it was no vessel for wine or water. It held Daemon Targaryen and his dragon.
The enchantment within did not bind them with iron or chains, but with life itself. A layered charm had reshaped the interior into a sealed miniature world—an endless pocket of illusion.
Inside the bottle stretched a forest that should not exist: evergreen trees fading into mist, shifting light imitating a sun trapped behind glass. Somewhere within that false wilderness, Daemon and his dragon remained trapped, wandering a green labyrinth with no true path out.
A kingdom reduced to glass. A forest turned into a cage.
The irony was not lost on Thaddues.
He glanced at the chest as he stepped into the carriage.
Once inside he placed his left hand against the carriage wall and activated a series of enchantments.
Runes ignited beneath his palm, spreading through the woodwork in ordered lines, like pale fire threading through living grain.
Then the system responded.
--
"Navigation link established. Carrier recognized. "
--
"To kings landing," he spoked.
A translucent interface unfolded before his vision.
--
"Destination Selected: King's Landing."
--
The display shifted immediately.
--
"Calculating viable routes…"
--
Paths unfolded across the projection.
One followed the coastline, marked by ports and ship passages.
Another cut inland through broken terrain, annotated with elevation shifts and hazard zones.
A third offered the fastest transit, but flickered with warnings that pulsed like distant alarms.
The system paused, as if assessing his intent.
--
"Three routes identified. Recommended: Coastal route, as it has balanced safety and duration,"
--
Thaddeus' eyes lingered briefly, then he spoke without hesitation.
"No ships. Overland."
--
"Host directive acknowledged. Recalculating optimal land-based path…"
--
Thaddues saw how the map reshaped itself, collapsing sea routes and unstable shortcuts until a single line remained—direct, grounded, and uninterrupted.
--
"Route confirmed. Overland journey to King's Landing."
--
A new line of data appeared beneath it. Then he heard the system continued.
--
"Estimated travel duration: 28–34 days at standard pace. Variance factors: weather, terrain, road conditions, and regional conflicts."
--
Thaddues gave a faint nod as he waved his right hand. The chest opened and the glass bottle floated in his hands.
"Accept."
--
"Route locked. Simplicity prioritized over efficiency. Navigation integrated into carriage enchantments."
--
The runes along the carriage flared once more before settling into a steady glow, as though the entire structure had synchronized with an unseen path stretching hundreds of leagues ahead.
Thaddues withdrew his left hand.
--
"Journey initialized. Safe travels, host."
--
Esteban blinked as the horses suddenly shifted into formation without a single command. He was halfway to the coachman's seat when the carriage lurched forward on its own, nearly causing him to lose his footing.
"My lord?"
"You're not coming with me. Stay here."
The steward stared at him in disbelief.
"My lord, you cannot meet the dragonlords without an attendant," he protested.
But Thaddues was unmoved. His gaze drifted briefly toward Castle Peverell rising behind them.
"Your task is to ensure Saltshore recovers before I return. That is a command," Thaddues said, his words amplified by magic settling into the steward's ears.
Esteban's jaw tightened.
He clearly wished to argue further, but a command from his lord left little room for debate.
"As you command, my lord."
He stepped back and could only watch as the driverless carriage set off down the road.
The manor gates opened.
Beyond them, the roads of Saltshore stretched into the distance. Farmers worked beneath the afternoon sun while merchants moved between villages still recovering from the war. Signs of reconstruction lined the road.
Thaddues watched through the carriage window in silence.
The war had left its scars—but Saltshore would endure.
TBC
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