Once the walls were breached, the fortress of Dragonstone became like a cooked crab—its hard shell cracked open, leaving the soft meat within exposed to the predators. Under the surge of Solar Might, Kaden had been unstoppable. He fought from the crenellations to the inner bailey, stopping only when the last of the defenders were either corpses or kneeling captives.
It was only then that Kaden realized he had carved his way into a mining camp. Within the yard sat an elderly overseer and a massive pile of jagged, black stones.
"Ser, we must move to the keep!" one of the Gold Cloaks shouted, his eyes wide with greed. "The Reach lords are already inside. If we linger, there won't be a silver spoon left for us!"
Kaden sat heavily on a crate, waving them off. "Go. If you find anything truly precious, save me a share."
The soldiers didn't wait for a second invitation. They scrambled toward the towers, eager for silk sheets and castle finery. Left alone with the overseer, Kaden picked up a shard of the black stone.
"What is this?"
"Dragonglass, My Lord," the old man rasped from the dirt.
"Dragonglass?" Kaden turned the shard over. It was the color of a moonless night, slick and obsidian with edges as sharp as a razor's edge. It caught the dim light, throwing off cold, prismatic glints.
"Stannis sent word from the Wall," the overseer explained. "Rolland Storm was commanded to mine as much as the earth would yield and ship it north. We don't know why."
The Wall. Kaden knew the Lightbringer was obsessed with the "Threat in the North." If Stannis Baratheon wanted these stones, they were more than just pretty rocks. He tucked a few shards into his pouch. This was intelligence the Order needed more than gold.
Rest restored, Kaden walked toward the main keep. He had avoided it to stay clear of the inevitable sack. He passed Reach soldiers hauling out the dead—mangled heaps of meat and broken mail. Stannis had taken the women and children with him; only the men remained to rot.
"Where is Ser Loras?" Kaden stopped a knight whose sword was dripping red.
The knight's face was a mask of grim pity. "In the master's chambers. The oil took him. It poured through the 'Dragon's Mouth' directly onto him as he took the breach."
Kaden's heart sank. He found the room on the second floor, guarded by two knights of the Reach.
"I am Kaden Storm of the City Watch. I rode with the Ser."
They let him pass, one of them whispering, "Better if you'd stayed out. He won't see the sunrise."
Inside, Lord Paxter Redwyne sat by the bed, his head in his hands. A young maester stood nearby, holding a cup of milk of the poppy.
Kaden looked at the bed. The sight was a horror. Loras Tyrell, the most beautiful youth in the Seven Kingdoms, was a ruin. His head was encased in a waxy, blackened shell of cooled oil and scorched skin. His left ear was gone, his right eye a carbonized pit. His throat and chest were a mass of blisters and raw, red meat where the oil had seeped into his mail. His fingers were locked in a death-cramp, skin peeling back to reveal white bone.
"He's alive," Kaden whispered.
"Barely," Paxter rasped. "The boy can't swallow. Every breath sounds like a dying fire. If he weren't Mace's favorite son, I'd grant him the Mother's mercy myself. As it is, he will scream until the Stranger takes him."
"There are... legends," Kaden said, his voice dry. "In the Riverlands. A man they call the Lightbringer. They say his magic mends the broken."
Paxter shook his head. "The Trident is a world away. He won't last the voyage."
Kaden retreated to a small storeroom nearby. The screams of Loras Tyrell began at midnight, echoing through the stone halls like a haunting.
Should I save him?
As a Solar Knight, Kaden could mend him with a gesture. But Aldric's orders were absolute: Never reveal your power outside Alliance lands. To save Loras was to reveal his identity to the Reach, to Cersei, and to the world. A Solar Knight in the Gold Cloaks was a political disaster.
And Loras... he was a pillar of the old world. His death would weaken the Tyrells and the Lannisters, clearing the path for the Dawn.
Yet, Kaden remembered the boy's pride, his grief for Renly, and his reckless courage. Loras wasn't a monster; he was just a boy caught in a man's war.
Aldric was a mercenary for the Starks once, Kaden reasoned. Healing is never a sin.
At dawn, Kaden watched the Redwyne fleet depart, leaving only a skeleton garrison and the wounded. They had 'buried' their dead by pushing them into the sea. The wounded were left in the cold shadows of the yard, rotting in their own filth for lack of medicine.
Kaden could bear it no longer. He walked into Loras's chamber. Only a single guard, a man named Cole, remained by the bed.
"Leave us, Cole."
"Why?"
"Ser Loras is in agony. I am going to end it."
Cole looked at the ruin of his master, his eyes wet with tears. Loras lifted a mangled hand, touching Cole's arm. Cole nodded, assuming Kaden was offering the gift of death. "Be quick," he sobbed, and stepped out.
Kaden looked down at Loras. Prismatic purpura covered the knight's skin—signs of systemic collapse. He smelled of rot and burnt grease.
"Loras. I don't know if this is right. But this is going to hurt. And then, it will be over."
Loras blinked his one clouded eye. He didn't turn away.
Kaden raised his hands, focusing every spark of the Sun's fire within his soul. "Anshe, let the Shadow flee."
A beam of pure, golden light lanced through the ceiling, bathing the bed. Loras's back arched. The gasp in his throat turned into a lung-shattering shriek of agony as the Light began to stitch charred meat back to bone and purge the oil from his lungs.
Outside, Cole heard the scream and winced. He cursed Kaden's clumsiness, but he didn't have the heart to go back in.
Finally, the screaming stopped. Kaden opened the door, his face pale and slick with sweat. "It is done. He is sleeping. Let him rest."
Cole brushed past him, his fists clenched in rage, ready to strike the man who had 'murdered' his master.
He stopped at the bedside.
Loras Tyrell lay on the silk sheets, his skin smooth, his face as beautiful as the day he left Highgarden. He was drenched in sweat, his eyes closed in a deep, natural sleep.
Cole rubbed his eyes, trembling. "What... what in the Name of the Seven..."
"Gods," Kaden whispered from the doorway, "don't ask."
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