Chapter 8
Time: 100 Years Before the Doom
POV: Kaelen (Elias Vance)
The air, even from the distant coastline, smelled different. Richer. Wild. Untamed. After a century of civilization, of Valyrian fire and YiTish discipline, the pervasive scent of damp earth, dense foliage, and unseen beasts was a welcome embrace. This was Sothoryos. This was home. My true home.
It took weeks of trekking through the outer jungles, navigating by instinct and the deep, silent hum of the earth beneath my feet, to find the hidden valley of the Verdant Kin. My senses were sharper than ever, my connection to the land a direct pipeline. I felt the pulse of the ancient trees, the flow of unseen rivers, the very life breathing within the jungle itself.
The familiar, woven shelters of the Silvanar appeared through the foliage, blending seamlessly with the giant trees they were built around. My heart felt a strange mix of anticipation and trepidation. How would they react to me after so long? I had left them a youth, now I returned still physically seventeen, but with the wisdom and experience of a centenarian.
I walked into the heart of the settlement, my footsteps silent. The Silvanar children, with their pale skin and jewel-toned eyes, paused their games and stared at me, wide-eyed. Adults stopped their work, their heads tilting, their empathic senses surely trying to decipher the stranger who carried the old scent of their tribe, yet was unknown.
Then, a voice, filled with a disbelief that slowly transformed into a quiet, almost spiritual awe. "Kaelen?"
It was Elder Lyra. She was truly ancient now, her posture bent, her hair like spun moonlight, her eyes, though still kind, misty with age. She sat by a fire, tending to some herbs, her hands gnarled with time. She had been a young elder when she found me by the river, and had watched me grow into the youth who left. Now, she was practically a living ancestor.
I knelt before her, out of respect for her age and her kindness. "Elder Lyra. I have returned."
She reached out a trembling hand, her fingers tracing the lines of my face, searching for wrinkles that weren't there. Her eyes filled with tears. "It is truly you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "The Deep-Born. You have not... changed. The spirits truly walk a different path with you."
"I told you I would return," I said gently, allowing a subtle wave of calm empathy to flow from me, reassuring her. "My journey of learning is complete. I have seen the far lands, their wonders, and their follies." I looked around the familiar valley. It was beautiful, but small. Vulnerable. My vision of an empire, tempered by a century of observation, burned brighter than ever.
The other Silvanar gathered, whispering, touching their elders for reassurance. They remembered the strange, gifted youth who had left so long ago, but seeing him back, untouched by time, was a profound shock.
"The tribe has missed your... presence, Kaelen," Lyra said, her voice stronger now. "The seasons have been harsh. The jungle seems to grow more hostile each year. We face new challenges." She looked at me, a desperate hope in her ancient eyes. "Can you... can you help us again, Kaelen?"
This was it. The perfect opening. My initial test, long delayed, was finally at hand. I had spent a century learning to build a kingdom. Now, I would start with a tribe.
"I can, Elder Lyra," I stated, my voice ringing with calm authority, the voice of a man who had seen worlds and measured empires. "I have learned much. It is time for the Verdant Kin to grow. To unite. To build something that will endure beyond any season, beyond any challenge."
My rapid regeneration, my mastery over plant and earth, my knowledge of Valyrian steel and ship-building, my insights into governance and economy from across Essos—all of it had led me back here. It was time for the Doom of Valyria to fade into history, but here, in Sothoryos, a new power was about to rise from the jungle's heart. It was time to begin the building and uniting of Elder Lyra's tribe, the first step towards my empire.