Capítulo 38: chapter 38
For the past two weeks, I've barely left the guild's library. Sleep has become a rare indulgence, stolen in fleeting moments between pages. Every book, scroll, and scrap of parchment on blood magic and its theory has passed through my hands. And now, after all this time, I can confidently say: the knowledge I've acquired is but a drop in the ocean compared to what remains hidden here. These books—this treasure trove of ancient power—must be preserved. The process is already underway, overseen by my most trustworthy men.
I've commandeered several rooms in the guildhall, converting them into scriptoriums. My scribes work tirelessly, creating ten copies of every text. The originals are carefully sealed in air-tight boxes, their preservation paramount. Who knows what secrets might remain dormant, waiting for the right mind—or the right magic—to unlock them?
But what baffles me, more than anything, is this: these ancient practitioners, armed with all this knowledge, should have been gods among men. The richest, the most powerful, the most untouchable. And yet, they weren't. They squandered their gifts, content with party tricks and illusions, their ambitions as weak as the dragons they relied upon. With dragons nearly extinct, they faded, leaving behind only scraps of their glory.
That will not be my fate.
Soon—sooner than the world realizes—dragons will return. And with them, I will rise. I'll sacrifice as much blood and as many souls as needed to make it happen. When the time comes, I'll burn for it all—burn to make my blood one with the dragons'. Then, with magic awakened and power coursing through me, no force on this earth will stand in my way.
My enemies, my rivals that arent dead yet, all those who dare oppose me, will burn. Essos will be mine. Its cities will kneel, one by one, until there is no one left to challenge me. And as for Westeros? Let them cower behind their squabbling kings and decaying traditions. Once I have claimed Essos, they'll either bow or break.
For now, though, I must focus on finishing the work here. In a week's time, every book will be copied, preserved, and ready to transport. The guild itself—the very heart of this operation—will also move. This city reeks of filth and decay, its streets crawling with two-legged rats and whining beggars secretly watching all of us and reporting back every move to a fat spider without a cock. I've had enough of it. The guild belongs in Essos, where I can work without prying eyes or useless restrictions.
The thought strikes me as I rise from my desk. If the guild moves with me, I won't need to recruit entirely new staff or waste time establishing operations from scratch. My men—already loyal and competent—can handle the expansion.
Straightening my robes, I leave the library and head toward the meeting hall. The dim torchlight flickers against the stone walls as I walk, the soft sound of my boots echoing in the silence. I push open the heavy oak doors and enter.
Inside, the guild's council is gathered, their heads bent over books, scrutinizing every copied page for errors. The air smells of parchment, ink, and sweat. When I enter, the room stills.
The ex-leader of the guild, a frail man with a sharp mind and sharper tongue, stands to greet me. "My lord," he says, bowing low. "How has your stay in the library been?"
"Productive," I reply, my voice measured. "More than productive, in fact. It has solidified my next steps."
The old man nods, his expression deferential. "With your guidance, this guild will reach new heights."
"Yes, about that…" I say, drawing their attention. "I've made a decision."
The men exchange wary glances. The younger ones sit straighter, their curiosity piqued.
"I'm moving the guild," I announce. "All of you—every scribe, every scholar, every laborer—will join me in Essos."
A murmur ripples through the room. The ex-leader looks stunned. "My lord, the guild has been rooted in King's Landing since its founding—"
"And this city stinks of shit and decay," I cut in sharply. "Essos will be our new home. Once we arrive, each of you will be rewarded. You'll have mansions, land, and the freedom to start your own ventures—or work in mine, for generous pay."
The room falls silent. Then, slowly, smiles spread across their faces. I can see the greed lighting up their eyes as they imagine their futures. Mansions, gold, power—it's a language they understand.
One of the younger members, whose name escapes me (not that I care to remember it), is the first to speak. "I think a fresh start is an excellent idea. A chance to rebuild and grow."
"I agree," says another, followed by a chorus of voices. The ex-leader hesitates but eventually nods, his resignation clear. "As you command, my lord."
"Good. We leave in one week. This place will remain as a secondary base, but our focus will shift to Essos. From there, we'll begin recruiting new members."
"Recruiting?" one of the older scribes asks. "How, my lord? Magic is all but gone from this world. Most people don't believe in it anymore."
I smirk. "That won't be a problem for long. We'll establish schools—grand institutions where magic will thrive once more. You will be the professors, teaching a new generation to wield power as we uncover it. Once the eggs hatch, the world will change. Magic will flow freely again."
The ex-leader's face softens, and for the first time, a genuine smile spreads across his lips. "A new age," he murmurs.
"Yes," I reply, my voice low but firm. "And we will be at the top of it."
As I look around the room, I see their faces alight with dreams of power, wealth, and glory. They can't yet grasp the full scope of my vision. But it doesn't matter. I'll take them to the summit, and when we stand above the rest of the world, they'll see it clearly.
They won't be equals, of course. They'll stand atop others, yes—but I will stand atop them all.
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