Vaegon sat alone in the library, surrounded by towers of books and candlelight. Dust hung in the air like a spell, undisturbed.

He read in silence Valyrian glyphs, dragon lore, forgotten histories his silver hair falling over sharp eyes that missed nothing.

Others chased glory with swords. Vaegon hunted truth in ink and silence.

And in the stillness, he felt more powerful than any prince on a throne.