Dragon's flame

Year 109 AC

A five-year-old boy and girl sparred with wooden swords beneath the light of the midday sun. The boy had snow-white hair that cascaded like a frozen waterfall, his eyes an eerie shade of purple, tinged with crimson, with no pupils to mark the depth of his gaze. The girl beside him had silvery locks that shimmered in the sunlight, and her eyes, a dark lilac, radiated quiet intensity.

"Strike with more force, Danny!" I commanded, my tone firm yet encouraging.

In the past years, Danny and I had grown inseparably close. I had taken it upon myself to train her in the art of swordplay—much as I had been trained by my forebearer, Maegor the Cruel

The war in the Stepstones was approaching its bloody conclusion. In just a few months, Daemon would strike down Carghas and declare himself the self-proclaimed King of the Stepstones and narrow sea

"Aelyx, Danny, come here," Aunt Rhaenys's voice rang out, a note of command and affection combined.

We walked towards her, and she handed me a letter sealed with the Targaryen sigil.

"It's from King Viserys," Danny said, reading the letter aloud.

"You are to return to King's Landing for the tourney celebrating the birth of King Viserys's second female child, Aera Targaryen," Danny recited.

Aera Targaryen. The name hung in the air, a mystery. Danny and I exchanged a quiet glance. Aera—a child who did not exist in the original timeline. Helena Targaryen should have been born in her place. This was yet another distortion of the timeline, a ripple in the tapestry of fate.

King's Landing, Small Council Room

"Has the letter been dispatched?" King Viserys's voice, weary but resolute, echoed through the chamber.

"Yes, Your Grace," Otto Hightower, the Hand of the King, answered without hesitation.

"Your Grace, if I may," Otto continued, his voice smooth and calculated. "I would like to propose a matter for your consideration."

Viserys inclined his head, granting permission for Otto to speak.

"As you are aware, years ago you arranged the betrothal between Prince Aelyx and Princess Daenerys."

The mere mention of the betrothal seemed to ignite something within Viserys. His face darkened with a familiar flare of anger, his voice rising to a thunderous volume.

"I WILL NOT CHANGE IT! DON'T MAKE ME REPEAT IT AGAIN!" Viserys roared, his fury palpable. The promise he had made to his late wife, Aemma, would never be broken—not by Otto, nor anyone else.

The council members flinched at his outburst, caught off guard by the intensity of his response. Otto, ever the tactician, quickly registered the shift in mood, his mind immediately calculating how to navigate this delicate matter without further provoking the king. He knew better than to push on the subject of Aelyx and Daenerys. When it came to his family, King Viserys's dragon blood was not so easily controlled.

The Red Keep

"Is it true?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice laced with both disbelief and awe. "My little sister's dragon, at nearly five years old, is growing close to syrax in size?"

"Yes, Your Grace," the elderly dragon keeper answered with a hint of reverence. "It's expected that it will reach the size of Vhagar by the time it is 86 to 90 years old."

"Interesting..." Rhaenyra murmured, her thoughts turning inward. A dragon of that size would mean unimaginable power. "Looks like I'll have to rekindle my relationship with her."

----

The Port of King's Landing, 109 AC

"We're here, after all," Danny remarked flatly, her tone betraying no emotion.

"Yes... the pit of snakes," I replied, my mind focused on the dangerous currents beneath the surface of the city.

As we disembarked from the ship, I could sense Rhaenyra's presence ahead. She stood with Ser Harrold Westerling of the Kingsguard, Ser Harwin Strong of the City Watch, and several Gold Cloaks. Despite being blind, I could feel the subtle shift of the air around me as they moved.

Danny filled me in on the people present, but it was not their presence that held my attention—it was the way the world seemed to speak to me through the vibrations in the earth and the air. I moved with purpose, steady and unyielding, walking toward the group as though I could see every detail of the space. Rhaenyra's gaze locked onto me, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes.

"How is he walking like this?" Rhaenyra thought. "He's blind."

Her confusion mirrored that of the others who stood around us. How could a blind person move with such confidence, without stumbling, without needing guidance?

"The Gods took my eyes from me, but they gave me something else," I answered, my tone calm and unbothered by their curiosity.

"Lead the way, Sister," Danny said, her voice dripping with boredom. Her indifference was palpable, though I could feel her emotions shift, something strange and protective stirring beneath the surface. I didn't need to see her face to know her tone.

---

In the wheelhouse

Rhaenyra's POV

I did not expect this. Aelyx is blind, yet his movements are not those of a blind person. His gait is sure, deliberate. There's no hesitation, no faltering. And his hair... wasn't it pure silver before? Why does it now seem tinged with an almost ethereal glow? His eyes, too—those red hues—they weren't like this before.

And the way he and Danny spoke... they didn't sound like children. Their words were sharp, deliberate—more like adults, not five-year-olds.

---

Danny's POV

Rhaenyea kept staring at Aelyx, a strange sense of jealousy stirring in me. But that's not it, I told myself. It must just be a product of growing up, of things changing. But Aelyx... he's different. Handsome, yet somehow still so beautiful. Since the "awakening," as he called it, his appearance has transformed, taken on a new light. It's more... compelling, more powerful than before.

---

Aelyx's POV

As our wheelhouse entered the Red Keep, I could feel the shift in the air. The tension was thick, palpable. King Viserys was not present, his absence a silent omen. I could sense the ever-present swirl of political intrigue around me, a dangerous undercurrent flowing through the Keep.

A maid approached Rhaenyra, delivering news of a grand celebration.

"Princess, His Grace has organized a second Kingswood hunt to celebrate the birth of Princess Aera, following the tourney tomorrow."

King Viserys and his obsession with lavish celebrations... It was as if he spent his coin as if there were no tomorrow. Yet, his need to maintain appearances in the face of such growing political instability seemed less about joy and more about a desperate attempt to mask the cracks forming in the kingdom's foundation.

But beneath it all, I couldn't ignore the sense of impending doom. My blindness, which had once been a weakness, had become a tool, a lens through which I could see more than anyone realized. With it came a sense of power—and a burden I wasn't sure I was ready to bear. The world I could sense was shifting, and I was at the center of it, a boy blind in the eyes, but perhaps more dangerous than anyone could know.

---

Viserys's POV

According to the news of aelyx given to me over the years, I always felt a twinge of unease. His blindness was no longer his defining trait—something had changed. His confidence, his manner, they were unlike anything I had expected. His movements were too sure, too controlled for someone who had never known the sight of the world. His appearance had altered as well—his hair, now tinged with an almost unnatural hue, and those eyes... Those eyes with their red irises.

And then there was Danny. The growth of her dragon was beyond anything I had anticipated. A dragon, nearly the size of Syrax at such a young age? It would make her a formidable force in her own right. No wonder Rhaenyra was concerned.

Otto Hightower, ever the schemer, had once suggested removing Rhaenyra as heir, and now he was meddling in the betrothal between Aelyx and Daenerys. I could sense Otto's political games, his subtle manipulations. But I would not bend to him again. The promise I made to Aemma would not be broken—not for Otto, not for anyone. The future of the realm depended on it.-

----

RED KEEP

As I stood in the heart of King's Landing, I felt the weight of my blindness—not as a weakness, but as a weapon. My other senses had sharpened, honed by years of training and survival. The world I couldn't see, I could feel, in ways no one else could. Yet with this gift came a terrible cost. The more I understood the world around me, the more isolated I became. The more I could sense others' intentions, the less I could trust them. I could feel the power dynamics shifting, the silent plots taking root, and the dangerous forces converging upon me.

If I wasn't careful, I would become a pawn in a game far larger than myself. But if the whispers of my potential were true, I might just be able to control the game, not just play it. But for now, the world would continue to see me as a blind boy, unaware of the storm I was about to unleash.