The year is 290 AC. Westeros, the unified continent, stands as a testament to a century and a half of unprecedented peace, prosperity, and innovation. The scars of the Dance of the Dragons have long faded, replaced by the gleaming infrastructure of a modernizing realm.
At the heart of this golden age sits King Maekar Targaryen, the current monarch of the Seven Kingdoms, ruling from the Iron Throne. He is a king of stern demeanor, known for his administrative prowess and his unwavering commitment to the stability and progress forged by his ancestors.
His reign is a continuation of the legacy established over the past century and a half of Targaryen rule, a period marked by changes that have reshaped the very fabric of Westerosi society.
The foundations of this golden age were laid over a century and a half of Targaryen rule, a period of visionary leadership and strategic alliances that fundamentally altered the realm.
The College of Dragonhold in Harrenhal, established early in this transformative period, had flourished. It was now the undisputed center of learning in the South, shaping generations of lords and ladies with a curriculum focused on governance, science, and practical skills, free from the old biases.
The Citadel was a distant memory, its influence entirely eradicated. Maesters, as a powerful, independent order, ceased to exist. Their knowledge was now disseminated through Dragonhold, under the Crown's direct control, ensuring loyalty and preventing the subtle machinations of the past.
The Faith, too, had been irrevocably curbed. Its temporal power had dwindled to less than 10% of its former might. While still a spiritual force, it no longer challenged the Crown's authority, nor did it amass vast wealth from coin donations, its influence confined to matters of piety.
The Dragon Council, a revolutionary institution, had proven its worth time and again. It ensured a stable succession, preventing the bloody disputes of old. Its power to elect and, if necessary, remove a monarch, tempered royal authority, fostering a more collaborative and accountable form of governance. This unique body had become the bedrock of Targaryen stability.
The Dragon Council, established just fifteen years into this transformative period, had proven to be a resounding success, a testament to Cregan Stark's foresight. It was a revolutionary concept for Westeros, a deliberate tempering of absolute monarchical power.
It comprised all adult Targaryens of age, a gathering of dragonlords and their kin, each with a voice in the destiny of their house and the realm. The council met regularly, its chambers often filled with passionate debate, with differing opinions and strong personalities clashing.
There were, inevitably, power struggles. Young, ambitious princes and princesses, seasoned veterans of the council, all vied for influence, for their voices to be heard, for their visions to prevail. Arguments could become heated, voices raised, and tempers flared. The very air in the council chambers would sometimes thrum with the latent power of dragons, a silent reminder of the might contained within the room.
Over the decades, there may have been some foolish Targaryen princes or princesses who were too proud, or craven, or overly religious in their zeal, whose personal flaws or extreme views threatened the stability of the realm. Their arrogance might have led them to defy the council, their cowardice to shirk duty, or their piety to attempt to impose the Faith's will upon the Crown.
When such individuals were deemed a threat to the realm, the Dragon Council did not hesitate. They were swiftly kicked out of the council, stripped of their power and influence, and their voices silenced. Their dragons, if they possessed them, were often taken into the Crown's direct care. These instances, though rare, were made public. The disgraced Targaryens were shown as a stark example for future generations, a chilling reminder that even the blood of the dragon was not immune to the collective judgment of the council. This mechanism ensured that the Targaryen dynasty remained strong, adaptable, and free from the internal weaknesses that had once plagued it.
Major decisions, from declaring war to forging new alliances, from enacting sweeping laws to initiating grand public works, all required the council's approval. This collective wisdom, though it sometimes slowed the pace of governance, prevented rash or disastrous choices.
The council was a living, breathing testament to the lessons learned from the Dance. It was a testament to the belief that even the most powerful family in Westeros needed checks and balances, that even dragons could benefit from tempered power.
The railway network, a monumental joint venture with Asgard, now crisscrossed the entire continent. It connected King's Landing to every Lord Paramount's stronghold, revolutionizing trade, communication, and troop deployment, binding the realm closer than ever before. This vast iron web was a constant hum of progress.
The subsequent decades, leading up to the current year of 290 AC, saw the continued flourishing of the Targaryen dynasty and the realm. The Dragon Council continued to function efficiently, ensuring stable successions and tempering any monarchical excesses, proving its worth as a cornerstone of stability.
The Targaryens, now a vast and powerful family, had grown in number and in their connection to their ancient heritage. In 290 AC, House Targaryen boasts 10 adult dragonriders. These are not merely symbolic figures; they are active participants in the realm's defense and governance, their dragons a visible, awe-inspiring symbol of the Crown's might.
Beyond the ridden dragons, Dragonstone, the ancestral seat of House Targaryen, is a vibrant testament to their power. The island now hosts 20 wild dragons of different sizes, a thriving population that roams its volcanic peaks and coastal cliffs. These wild dragons, though not bonded, represent a vast reserve of potential power, a living, breathing symbol of the Targaryen legacy.
The realm's prosperity, fueled by the railway network and secure trade routes, allowed for continued investment in public works. Cities across Westeros were cleaner, healthier, and more organized, their populations thriving under the Crown's benevolent hand. Education at Dragonhold continued to produce a new generation of enlightened nobility, ensuring capable leaders for the future.
Beyond the railways, the very infrastructure of Westeros had undergone a quiet revolution, largely influenced by Asgardian engineering and the innovations brought by Theon Stark. The muddy, rutted tracks that once served as roads were now being systematically replaced.
Across the kingdoms, vast stretches of concrete roads now crisscrossed the landscape. These grey ribbons, smooth and durable, allowed for unprecedented speed and efficiency in travel. They were built to last, resistant to the wear and tear that had plagued older routes, ensuring seamless transport across the realm.
The impact was immediate and immense. Goods could be transported faster and with less damage, boosting trade and local economies. Merchants, once wary of treacherous journeys, found their burdens lightened, their profits increased, as goods flowed freely.
Beyond the roads, infrastructural development had touched every aspect of urban life. Cities boasted comprehensive drainage systems that carried away waste, drastically reducing disease and improving public health. Aqueducts, some drawing on ancient designs but built with modern materials and engineering, supplied clean, fresh water to urban centers, a luxury once unknown to many.
Public buildings, from grand administrative centers to new, well-maintained markets, were constructed with an eye towards efficiency and public service. Street lighting, utilizing advanced gas lamps, transformed the cities after dusk, making them safer and more vibrant, extending the hours of commerce and social life.
These developments, often implemented by engineers trained at Dragonhold, were a constant, visible reminder to the common folk of the Crown's commitment to their well-being. The improvements were tangible, directly impacting their daily lives, cementing their loyalty to the Targaryen reign.
The world had changed. Yet, for some, the deep, abiding silence a stillness that was perhaps too utter, too absolute, for true peace. The Seven Kingdoms, basking in their golden age, remained blissfully unaware of what might stir in the forgotten lands beyond the frozen barrier.