Chapter 66: The World Recedes, The Mountain Wakes (Fidelius: Part 2)
The final rune blazed with an incandescent, soul-deep light, the colossal circuit around Skagos pulsing as one with the very heartbeat of the ancient island. The power Aelyx Velaryon channeled, drawn from the bottomless well of the Philosopher's Stone, focused through the unparalleled conduit of the Elder Wand, and anchored by the spiritual resonance of the Resurrection Stone and the conceptual unseeableness of the Cloak of Invisibility, reached its crescendo. A soundless shockwave, a distortion of reality itself, rippled outwards from Mount Skatus, washing over every peak, every valley, every stone and soul upon the isle. Then, an profound, almost breathless, stillness descended. Skagos, in its entirety, had vanished from the world.
For the inhabitants of the hidden sanctuary – Aelyx, Lyanna, their immortal descendants, the legions of house-elves and phoenixes, and the hundreds of slumbering dragons – the transition was a subtle shift in the very fabric of their existence. The ambient magical thrum of their protected realm intensified, the wards around Mount Skatus now seamlessly extending to encompass the entire island, an invisible, impenetrable dome of arcane energy. It was a feeling of ultimate security, of perfect isolation, of being truly, finally, home.
For the nearly two hundred thousand mortal inhabitants of public Skagos, the experience was different, more akin to waking from a dream they couldn't quite recall. As the Fidelius settled, a gentle, pervasive wave of Aelyx's magic, woven with Rhaenys's most subtle illusions and Lyanna's calming influence, had swept through their towns and villages. Memories of the outside world – of mainland Westeros, of King's Landing, of the war that had just begun to rage – didn't vanish entirely, but faded, becoming distant, irrelevant, like tales from a half-forgotten book. Their world simply… contracted. Skagos became their all, their only. Their loyalty to Lord Edric Volmark (who, along with his immediate family and household, had been safely within the island's perimeter when the charm was cast and was now fully integrated into the sanctuary's leadership, his public role continuing within their hidden realm) remained, as did their daily lives – fishing, farming, crafting. The "Heir's Hoard" mine continued its carefully managed "production," providing for their needs. But the ships from White Harbor no longer arrived. No ravens flew from Winterfell. The vast, tumultuous world beyond their shores simply ceased to impinge upon their consciousness, replaced by a serene, almost idyllic insularity. They felt safer, their lives more focused, their horizons bounded by the misty shores of their blessed, prosperous island, ruled by their wise and benevolent Lord.
Aelyx and his most powerful sorcerers – Aenar, Aegon Volmark, and his now ancient daughter Visenya, whose command over elemental magic was second only to his own – spent the first few weeks meticulously testing the boundaries of the Fidelius. They projected their senses outwards, finding only a shimmering, impassable barrier that was not quite there, a conceptual void where Skagos should be. Any attempt to scry the island from the outside, they confirmed through magically remote probes, would yield nothing, or at best, confusing, forgettable images of turbulent sea and empty mist. Ships sailing too close would find their compasses spinning, their navigators inexplicably steering them away, their minds unable to retain a clear memory of the waters they had just traversed. The island was not just invisible; it was unknowable, unthinkable, to any not privy to the Secret.
Aelyx himself was the primary Secret Keeper. The knowledge of Skagos's true location, its hidden heart within Mount Skatus, was locked within his immortal soul, a secret he would never betray. Lyanna, and each of his eight direct children, through a complex ritual of blood and magic performed immediately after the Great Weaving, had become secondary Keepers, able to reveal the secret and bring others within the Fidelius's embrace, but only with Aelyx's express permission. This ensured both security and controlled access, should the need ever arise in the distant future.
The most immediate loose end had been Ser Artos Volmark and his twenty Skagosi elite guards, who had marched south with Robb Stark. Aelyx, with his characteristic foresight, had anticipated this. Days before the Fidelius was cast, a glamoured house-elf courier, bearing a magically sealed, urgent summons from Lord Lyulph Volmark (Artos's father, who had by then "died" and retreated to the sanctuary), had reached Artos in the Riverlands. The summons cited a dire (fabricated) emergency on Skagos requiring his immediate return with his men. Robb Stark, understanding the importance of a lord's duty to his own lands, had reluctantly granted him leave. Artos and his men, traveling with magically augmented speed, had arrived back at Shadowport just hours before the Great Weaving commenced, sailing into the mists that would soon become an impenetrable veil. Their re-entry into the sanctuary, their reunion with their true, immortal kin, and the revelation of Aelyx's monumental undertaking, had been a moment of profound awe and renewed, absolute devotion. They were now part of the hidden kingdom, their knowledge of the outside world a valuable, if now historical, asset.
With Skagos severed from Westeros, a new era dawned within its shielded shores. The War of the Five Kings, the struggles for the Iron Throne, the petty ambitions of mortal lords – all became distant echoes, academic subjects for study within the sanctuary's vast libraries, rather than immediate concerns. Aelyx redirected the immense energies and resources of his hidden kingdom wholly inwards, towards the perfection of their society and their preparations for the true, existential threat: the Long Night.
The Glass Gardens, already marvels of mundane Skagos, were expanded exponentially within vast, geothermally heated subterranean caverns, lit by enchanted sunstones. They produced not just food for the mortal population, but an incredible array of rare herbs, magical plants, and alchemical ingredients from across two worlds, tended by house-elves with an encyclopedic knowledge of magical horticulture. The "Heir's Hoard" mine, its public facade maintained for the benefit of the mortal Skagosi, continued its charade, while the true source of Volmark wealth – the Philosopher's Stone – was now employed by Aelyx and Aenar to transmute vast quantities of base materials into substances of magical import: alloys for enchanted armor, crystals for magical foci, rare earths for alchemical experiments.
The dragon breeding program entered a new, golden age. Freed from the need for even the slightest constraint that proximity to the outside world had imposed, the dragons of Skagos thrived. The hatcheries within Mount Skatus, warmed by volcanic vents and imbued with ancient Valyrian fire magic, saw clutch after clutch of healthy eggs. The seventeen Targaryen-Skagosi dragons, born from the eggs rescued from Dragonstone, the Dragonpit, and Summerhall, were now magnificent adults, their unique bloodlines carefully integrated into the main Skagosi dragon population. Aelyx, Aenar, and their most skilled dragonologists focused on selective breeding, cultivating specific traits: dragons with scales that could change color like chameleons, adapting to their surroundings for perfect camouflage; dragons whose fire burned with such intensity it could vaporize steel, or with a chilling blue flame that could freeze and shatter; dragons of unparalleled intelligence, capable of complex communication with their riders through telepathic links nurtured by Volmark magic. The skies within the largest, magically expanded caverns of Mount Skatus – some so vast they had their own internal weather systems of mist and warm updrafts – were filled with the sight of hundreds of dragons, their riders (Aelyx's descendants, now spanning seven generations beyond his own children) practicing intricate aerial maneuvers, their power a silent, awe-inspiring testament to Valyrian legacy reborn and perfected.
Magical research within the sanctuary's great libraries and laboratories, led by Aelyx himself, his son Aegon Volmark (a master of protective enchantments), and his great-grandson Valerion (a prodigy in theoretical magic and runic lore), pushed the boundaries of known arcane arts. They delved into the deepest secrets of Valyrian blood magic (always with extreme caution, Aelyx having learned from Voldemort's follies the perils of soul-tampering), seeking to enhance the innate magical abilities of their bloodline. They perfected Potterverse charms and transfigurations to a degree undreamt of in their original world. They synthesized Flamel's alchemy with Valyrian fire rituals to create new, incredibly potent potions and elixirs. Their primary focus, however, was on defenses against the Others and the Long Night.
Drawing upon the fragmented prophecies, ancient Northern legends, and Aelyx's own chilling greensight visions, they researched the weaknesses of the White Walkers. They experimented with enchanting dragonglass (obsidian, which Skagos had in abundance) and Valyrian-style steel (which Aenar could now produce in limited, but exceptionally high-quality, quantities using dragonfire and alchemical transmutation) with spells of fire and life, creating weapons designed to be anathema to the undead. They developed vast, island-wide wards keyed to the warmth of living flame and the songs of phoenixes, designed to repel unnatural cold and the necromantic energies of the Great Other.
The mortal population of Skagos, living their lives in blissful ignorance of the magical fortress that was their true home, were also subtly prepared. Their Lord Volmark (currently Edric's son, another Lyulph, his public life a seamless continuation of his father's) encouraged the stockpiling of food, the strengthening of homes against harsh weather (a plausible cover for reinforcing structures), and the training of local militias in defensive tactics against "raiders from the frozen wastes" – a myth that would serve them well if the Long Night's minions ever somehow breached the outer Fidelius. Their health was maintained by "Skagosi herbal remedies" (actually potent preventative potions developed in the sanctuary), making them remarkably resilient to common ailments.
Generations were born and lived out their lives within the Fidelius-protected Skagos, knowing no other world. For the immortal Volmarks, time flowed differently. Their children, grandchildren, and further descendants matured, were educated in the arcane arts, bonded with their dragons, took their places in the intricate governance and defense of the sanctuary, and eventually, saw their own children begin the same cycle. It was a society dedicated to eternal vigilance, to the preservation of knowledge, and to the quiet accumulation of power beyond measure.
Aelyx often spent long hours in his highest observatory, scrying the world beyond their magical veil. He watched the War of the Five Kings tear Westeros apart, the fall of House Stark (though he knew, through Lyra's visions, that Stark embers still glowed in the North and beyond the Narrow Sea), the rise and fall of petty kings, the Lannisters' pyrrhic victories, the eventual return of (supposed) Targaryens from Essos with dragons far smaller and less numerous than his own. He observed it all with the detached interest of a god watching ants scurry. These mortal struggles were but fleeting storms, their outcomes largely irrelevant to his eternal plans, save for how they might shape the world his descendants might one day choose to re-enter.
His greatest concern remained the Long Night. Lyra, Daenys, and the Oracular Conclave they now headed, brought him increasingly frequent, if still veiled, warnings. The true enemy was stirring. The Wall, that ancient bastion of mundane and magical defense, was weakening, its Watch dwindling. The kings and lords of Westeros, consumed by their endless game of thrones, were blind to the existential threat gathering in the Lands of Always Winter.
"They will not be ready," Aelyx would say to Lyanna, as they walked through the vast, subterranean caverns where young dragons played amidst magically sustained groves of weirwood trees (Aelyx had cultivated them, fascinated by their connection to greensight and ancient earth magic). "When the true darkness falls, they will be scattered, squabbling, unprepared. Our sanctuary, Lyanna, may be the last light when all others are extinguished."
Lyanna, her Stark soul forever bound to the North, even this hidden, magical North, would nod gravely. "Then we must ensure our light burns so brightly, Aelyx, that it can not only survive the darkness, but perhaps, one day, offer a spark to rekindle a new dawn, if that is your will."
Aelyx would look at his immortal queen, his partner through centuries of secrecy and power, and a rare, almost human softness would touch his ancient violet eyes. "Perhaps, my love. Perhaps. But first, we ensure our own eternity. The world receded from Skagos when the Fidelius fell. Now, within our impregnable walls, our true kingdom wakes to its timeless destiny."
The War of the Five Kings raged, new kings rose and fell, but within the magically veiled Isle of Skagos, life continued its unique, eternal rhythm. Dragons soared in hidden skies, phoenixes sang songs of unending rebirth, house-elves toiled with joyful devotion, and generations of Valyrian sorcerers, led by their immortal Shadow King, prepared for a future that stretched beyond the comprehension of the fleeting mortal world, their power a silent, growing sun, awaiting the end of the long, dark night.