Dragon's flame

[Dragonstone]

It had been nearly three moons since I last encountered my ancestor, Maegor, and I had not yet shared the momentous news with him—I had claimed Vhagar.

Rhaenyra, ever the bearer of significant tidings, had received word that the war in the Stepstones was finally coming to an end.

"The war is over... Uncle Daemon could return to King's Landing any day now. I must go," Rhaenyra declared, her words laced with urgency as she mounted Syrax and soared into the heavens.

Danny and I, left behind, carried on with our daily routines: honing our skills in swordplay, flying our dragons, and practicing the teachings of the Faith of the Seven.

As the evening light faded and shadows stretched long across Dragonstone, fatigue claimed us, and we slipped into the embrace of a deep sleep.

It wasn't long before I found myself once more in the same mysterious place where I had first met Maegor...

"You've returned," came Maegor's voice, low and commanding, echoing through the stillness.

"Yes... I have news," I replied, my chest swelling with pride. "I claimed Vhagar."

A slow, knowing smirk tugged at the corners of Maegor's lips.

"For the next part, you must return to Dragonstone," he instructed gravely.

"But I am already on Dragonstone," I countered, confusion evident in my voice.

Maegor raised an eyebrow, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes, before the smile spread across his face.

"What is the foundation of our strength? What is the truest, purest form of power?" he asked, his gaze unyielding.

I paused, turning the question over in my mind. An army? Loyalty? A navy? No... "DRAGONS," I answered with certainty, my voice firm.

"Correct," Maegor acknowledged, a spark of approval in his expression. "You are in the heart of dragonkind, the place where most of the dragon eggs and young dragons are kept. Control this, and you control the dragon riders."

"So, I should become a usurper and claim my elder sister's castle?" I asked, my voice faltering, a pang of guilt in my chest. I never wanted to take Rhaenyra's birthright, but the question lingered in my mind—was I merely waiting to grow strong enough to protect both myself and Danny?

"No," Maegor replied, his tone sharp. "That would be a grave mistake. Instead, you must catalog the dragon eggs, the young dragons, and the locations of the adult dragons. Mark out areas where new caves can be built, securing them from intruders. Control their safety, and you control the future."

We continued our conversation, strategizing about what my actions could lead to and how they could reshape the future of the Targaryens. The weight of Maegor's words settled heavily on my shoulders, a burden of responsibility that I had never anticipated.

Morning arrived, and I woke to find Danny already stirring beside me. I recounted the events of my dream, and she listened intently before offering her agreement without hesitation.

"If the Mad King had control over dragons, the world would have been consumed by fire," she said, her voice thoughtful but resolute. "Dragons must be handled with wisdom and care."

I couldn't disagree. Her experiences in King's Landing had shown that unchecked power could bring ruin.

Time passed, and days blended into one another, peaceful yet uneventful. We spent our time training and exploring the forgotten passages beneath Dragonstone. Occasionally, we stumbled upon hidden caves that housed ancient murals depicting the Long Night. But, after seeing them so many times, their mystique had faded into something almost mundane.

The quiet tranquility of life on Dragonstone felt almost too calm, as though the storm of destiny was only waiting for the right moment to break.

And then, in 112 AC, it came...

Year 112 AC

A boy, almost ethereal in appearance, with hair as white as snow and violet eyes that shimmered with an eerie red glow, soared through the skies on the back of Vhagar, his dragon.

By his side, flying with a grace that seemed beyond her years, was Danny. Her silver hair and dark purple eyes glowed with an unearthly radiance as she held her position firmly in the air. Together, they made a striking pair—two children, now eight years old, embarking on a journey to the lands of Essos. Their mission was clear: to gather a force of fiercely loyal followers—men and women who would swear their allegiance to them and their bloodline, securing their power for generations to come.

"Where should we go first?" I asked Danny, eager to hear her insight. After all, she knew Essos as few others did.

"We cannot rely on the Unsullied, nor can we afford to have the Dothraki at our backs," Danny said, her eyes narrowing with consideration. "We should head to Volantis. There, we may find remnants of ancient Valyrian power—power that could aid us."

"Then let's head to Volantis," I said, determination settling in my voice. The path was set, and we were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.

---

Key Events Between 109 AC and 112 AC:

In 109 AC, the political climate in Westeros became increasingly volatile as King Viserys I Targaryen struggled to maintain control over his court and family. The growing rift between his children, Rhaenyra and Aegon, threatened to tear apart the very fabric of the Targaryen dynasty. Rhaenyra, the king's daughter, had long been his chosen heir, but the mounting pressure from various factions, especially the Hightowers, put her position in jeopardy. Whispers of betrayal and ambition filled the halls of the Red Keep, and the Targaryen family's unity appeared to be unraveling before the eyes of the realm. Meanwhile, House Velaryon, led by Lord Corlys Velaryon, continued to expand its influence, securing key alliances through its dominance over the seas. These alliances with the Targaryens would prove vital in the coming years, as the tensions within the royal family escalated.

In 110 AC, the conflict in the Stepstones reached its zenith, with Daemon Targaryen, Viserys' younger brother, playing a key role in the war. Daemon's victories on the battlefield earned him a reputation as a fierce and capable leader, but they also deepened the divisions between him and the Hightowers, who viewed him as a threat to their power. The war in the Stepstones was not just a battle for territory, but a strategic maneuver in the broader power struggle for the Iron Throne. The political landscape shifted as the Hightowers began to form stronger alliances, while Daemon's rising influence grew even more perilous. The tension between the factions intensified, and the realm grew more divided as the future of the throne became ever more uncertain.