Gold was a lie.
So were silver, iron, and copper.
They rusted, vanished, betrayed. They obeyed no one.
But fire? Fire answered to me.
And dragons respected power, not coin.
The First Vault
It began with a whisper between me and Lucien beneath Dragonstone.
The cavern we stood in was untouched by man. Deep. Ancient. Guarded by heat and wyrm-tunnels.
"This place," I said, placing my palm on the wall, "will hold more than treasure."
Lucien nodded slowly, eyeing the glowing red veins in the rock. "You would make it a vault?"
"A vault the world has never seen. One no Iron Bank, no Free City, no maester or king could match."
I touched the obsidian wall. It trembled.
[Quest Unlocked: Treasury of Flame][Objective: Construct Dragon-Vault beneath Dragonstone — 1% Complete][Special Effect: Firelock Encryption + Elemental Soul-Key Bound to Aegon]
A Different Kind of Wealth
The next morning, I summoned all five members of the Fire Court to the newly hollowed chamber.
Balerion hovered at the ceiling like a living statue. The air shimmered with heat.
I stepped onto the black platform and raised a fist.
"I offer you this," I said, "not just as a king or prophet, but as a merchant."
That made Daemar Blacktyde chuckle. "A merchant king, eh?"
"Not just a king," I corrected. "An emperor of coin."
The Plan
I summoned a map carved from molten crystal. It showed all of Westeros — and more.
"I will introduce a new currency," I told them, "one backed not by false gold, but by dragonfire."
Nyssa tilted her head. "What use is fire to farmers?"
"It is life," I replied. "Each Dragoncoin will represent hours of protection, labor, or construction — given by my court and my dragons. It is not just money. It is power made portable."
[New Economic System Created: Dragoncoin Treasury][Status: Backed by Draconic Power, Not Metal][Effect: Immune to Debasement, Requires Soul-Key to Mint]
Elaria the Flame-Seer smiled. "So we trade faith and flame instead of silver and lies."
"Exactly."
Lucien handed me the first minted coin — a perfect disc of obsidian wrapped in crystal flame, bearing my sigil: the three dragons circling, the black one soaring above the others.
"Let Braavos drown in ledgers," I said. "Westeros will rise with fire."
First Investment
The first business I built was simple — but brilliant.
The Ember Network.
Food, grain, tools, seeds — carried by Fire Court merchants, protected by my name and shadow-cloaked guards.
Rhaenys helped engineer irrigation tools using earthbending and dragon heat.
Visenya designed wind-powered mills that could grind a week's worth of flour in a single day.
And I gave these to the farmers for free.
"I don't want payment," I told them through heralds. "I want loyalty."
And with that came faith.
[You Have Created: Fire-Borne Market System][You Have Gained: +3,200 Faith Energy][Public Approval in Crownlands: 83%]
At Home...
My mother Daenara looked over the glowing ledgers I'd summoned onto a molten stone tablet.
"You've built banks at three years old," she said.
"Not banks," I corrected. "Temples of flame, that happen to handle coin."
She raised a brow. "You do realize you sound mad?"
"Only to men who think the world belongs to gold," I replied. "I know better."
From the shadows, Father listened. Silent. Watching.
"Braavos won't like this," he said finally.
"I know," I said calmly.
"I look forward to hearing from them."
Secret Dealings
In a hidden chamber beneath the Vault, Lucien met with three cloaked figures — merchants, mercenaries, and smuggler lords from Lys, Volantis, and Oldtown.
"We offer ships," one said.
"We offer silence," said another.
Lucien handed them Dragoncoins.
"You will speak only of the Flameborn Prince," he said. "And you will trade only in fire."
They bowed.
Even they knew the old order was ending.
Final Scene
That night, I sat beneath the stars on the high tower balcony.
Balerion's warmth pressed against my back. I could see the glow of the newly carved dragon-symbol in the mountain below.
It was real now.
A kingdom.
A court.
A vault.
A currency.
And this was only the beginning.
"Fire doesn't just destroy," I whispered. "It creates."
And I would burn the old world down — not with war.
With value.