Eagle of the Valley of Ice and Fire.

Chapter 305: Close before your eyes
Laresa stared at the glass candle for a long time, trying to find something through the pale and weak flame, a picture, a prophecy, a revelation, etc., but she found nothing.

When Dr. Marwin opened his drawer, the iron box of sour grass leaves that should have been lying safely inside was gone. The doctor hated procrastination the most. Once he made up his mind, he would act immediately, just like he said:

"The truth is there, the road is right under your feet, why don't you hurry and get going?"

Unfortunately, although Laresa learned a lot, he was not interested in many of the areas involved.

Besides dragons and magic, Lareisa continued to focus her eyes on the burning glass candle, trying to find out something.

"Please organize my books. I, oh no, you still need a lot of documents. They are hidden in some secret places and corners of the library of the city. If you want to do research, or help me improve my thesis, and then you can be the first author, I don't mind. The 'magician' is already famous enough and excellent enough. He does not need the certification of the gray sheep." Dr. Marwin muttered in front of him before leaving, chewing sour grass leaves that were oozing red secretions in his mouth.

Marwin paused, and reminded Laresa: "Sphinx, don't reveal your thoughts in front of the maesters. Don't talk about dragons and prophecies, otherwise someone might poison the porridge you drink at night. These maesters with some medical skills are very bad. Don't think that they will become the fair father and the merciful mother just because they have a doctor's hat. Just tell them that you want to wear the necklace, want to serve a big man in Dorne, or somewhere else. The Vale is more popular now. Tell them that obedience is the noblest virtue and loyalty is the greatest honor."

Laresa advised: "Maybe it would be better to go to the East Continent, where the Dragon Queen Daenerys is."

"The Children of the Forest, the Scarlet Witch, the 40,000 cavalrymen of the Vale, and the 60,000 troops of the Riverlands definitely chose the right person. Artis Arryn is the heir of the oath between the Children of the Forest and humans, the guardian of the two realms, and the Hand of the King. What's even more shocking to the seven hells is that I heard he also collected a dragon egg."

Marwyn looked more like a street thug in Old Town than a doctor. He raised his fist as big as a hammer and said, "I don't want to miss it. With my experience traveling in the East Continent, my choices are always right."

"Is the magical revival you're looking forward to really possible?" asked Laresa.

Marwyn showed his red, mottled teeth. "Look at the burning candle."

Laresa looked toward the tall black candle in the center of the room, its flame too bright.

"What can I deny?" Marwyn said, taking a faded fur cloak from the wooden latch beside the door and tying it tightly around himself. "Even if what I believe is not true, life is like the sea, and who can flow forever like this misty river of mead?"

He opened the door and sighed, "People always have to go crazy for what they want."

"You've gone mad once." Laresa kindly reminded him that he hoped the Doctor would not forget his history of rashly going to the East Continent at the risk of war, plague and the curse of Valyria.

"Yes," grinned Marwyn, "I am the exception. I can go mad twice."

Marwyn stood in the empty Hall of a Hundred Hearths and did not choose to take a seat immediately. Instead, he looked Artis Arryn up and down with a smile on his face.

The red monk Moqorro was similar in size to him, but his skin was black and his teeth were white and red. One was wrapped in a red robe and the other in a brown robe, so they were easy to identify. He stood next to the red-robed woman Melisandre, looking at her indifferently.

Melisandre's red eyes looked at Marwyn the same way he looked at Artis. She walked over and asked before the Duke: "I thought that people who firmly believed in magic in Westeros were extinct."

Marwyn snorted and laughed. "It's hard to say. We in Westeros are just used to ignoring. Even if the most obvious facts are right in front of us, we would rather choose to ignore them and stick to our own lives."

Artis did not feel it was rude, and he participated in the discussion with great interest: "This means that change will be difficult."

Marwyn bowed respectfully. "You are worthy of being the Eagle of the Vale. Unlike my impression of the youngest son of the ruler of the Eyrie in the past, you have surpassed the heights of the Arryn family in the past. Above the Giant's Lance, you not only rule two of the Seven Kingdoms, but also serve as the Warden of the East and Governor of the Trident. Now you are the Hand of the King, and have served as Prime Minister twice with your father, Lord Jon Arryn. It is really a great story. I dare not imagine how future maesters will write about the legendary story of Jon Artys and his son from the Arryn family."

Attis wanted to show off his noble manners and speak in a humble tone, but the moment he opened his mouth, he found that his words were unable to refute. What Maester Marwyn said was true, so how could he be humble?
So he gladly accepted it, coughing slightly. Fortunately, the roar of the blue dragon outside the Bailu Hall attracted everyone's attention. The dragon fluttered from an unknown place to the closed window of the Bailu Hall, flapped its wings, and jumped onto the roof.

Marwyn opened his mouth and watched the dragon flash by, his eyes suddenly filled with a bit of obsession.

"It, it's beautiful," Marwyn swallowed, his tongue a little knotted, but his expression remained calm, "Aren't you worried that it will fly out of the castle, even if Harrenhal is big enough?"

Melisandre answered his question: "Harrenhal is a natural dragon lair, just like Dragonstone, which is buried with countless dragon crystals. Besides, it is still very young and cannot fly far."

"A miracle," Marwyn murmured. "I heard that the Dragon Queen of Meereen has three dragons, and there are dragons here at Harrenhal, too."

"Ahem!" He coughed twice. "Although I have heard many rumors about the Harrenhal dragon in the nearby fishing village, I didn't expect it to be true."

"Of course it is true," the green maester Redvine ran over, and the typical signs of the children of the forest suddenly appeared in Marwyn's sight, "Lord Artis deserves a dragon. Times are different now, and the threat from the north is too great."

Marwyn laughed, looking at the Child of the Forest as if he were looking at a rare treasure. "It seems that the widely circulated portrait in Oldtown is of you."

"What?" Hong Man was a little confused and stared at Marwin, who was like a wine barrel, with wide eyes.

"Dragon cave, dragon eggs, heart tree, magic of the old gods and the red god." Marwyn counted on his fingers, "Haha, I guessed what the Duke is missing."

Artis smiled and said, "Dr. Marwin, what did you guess?"

"Dragon blood," Marwyn clenched his left hand into a fist. "The Arryns do not have the blood of the Valyrian dragons like the Targaryens do."

"I cannot change the bloodline of my ancestors. I am a true eagle, living in the mountains and valleys, but I am not a dragon, and I cannot ride a dragon like the Targaryens."

"Before the discovery of the magic of dragons," said Marwyn, "the Valyrians were but common herders, driving sheep and cattle, and riding horses, little more civilized than the Dothraki."

Attis was unmoved: "Really? Even so, these are just rumors from thousands of years ago. It is impossible to verify whether they are true or false."

"But they were lucky," Marwyn smiled. "They had dragons that were gentle and greedy, not bloodthirsty and violent, as some of the mountain folk of the Shadow of Asshai had been. There was a precedent in Westeros, too. Nettles' origins were unknown, but she tamed sheep thieves, and from what I could see, she was not of Valyrian blood."

"you mean"

"I will teach you," Marwyn said with a smug smile. "The knowledge about dragons is very rare. The Citadel hides it tightly. The descendants of the dragon servants in Summerhall only have vague memories of it. But in Asshai in the Shadow Lands and in the distant Yi Ti, this kind of knowledge is also hidden. Not many people remember it, and not many people take it seriously."

"Fortunately," Marwyn exhaled, "the pioneers have collected all this knowledge and tried to preserve it all."

"Pioneers?" Atis suppressed his inner joy. "If there really are such pioneers, does Dr. Marwin know where they are?"

"Far away in the abode of the Seven, and near at hand," said Marwyn, smiling, "before your eyes."

(End of this chapter)