[Aegon's POV]
Despite his eagerness for battle, he was sent near the rear. Apparently, Edric Storm was famed for prioritising more important targets and being in his range was a death sentence. He was not fond of staying behind but realised that it was for the best.
Then, multiple warriors on their side gained magical abilities, which definitely made it look like the right choice. Despite their heroics, they were still winning the battle until Viserion… turned.
Aegon's bond with the dragon had suddenly felt entirely different. He felt the burning rage of ten thousand suns, ever scorching. This rage reflected the dragon's flames, which were more devastating than ever before.
Even more bizarrely, the dragon began moving… differently. Every movement seemed growingly intended, calculated. The Viserion of the past looked clumsy by comparison.
In a single minute, five galleys carrying Golden Company soldiers were under fire. In ten, their fleet was breaking. News of their great losses passed by, growing by the second.
"The Captain-General is dead! The bloody dragon burned him and his ship alive!"
"Aren't you supposed to control it?" The officer commanding his ship turned to him.
"I…" Aegon was too shocked to speak. "I can't. Not anymore, at least…"
"This is a disaster!"
"We're doomed… the battle is turning in their favour and we're losing men by the thousand. At this rate, no one will be left..."
"Retreat, we must retreat."
"..." Aegon hesitantly nodded. "The longer this goes on, the more precious lives we'll lose."
"You heard the prince! FULL retreat!"
Then… the worst that could ever happen, did.
From a distance, the ship that Jon Connington was on was blasted by flame. He could see him from a distance, burning, and vanishing into the flames. Aegon's heart sank. Then, as they began retreating, the dragon flew straight for his ship and dropped the corpse it was holding onto.
A half-burnt corpse crashed into the ship, right next to him. Aegon's eyes slowly widened as he realised who it was.
Jon... Connington. The man who had been like a father to him.
Various emotions overwhelmed him, leaving the prince frozen still. Anger, sorrow, regret. This battle was a mistake. Freeing the dragons was a mistake. Seeking out the Iron Throne... it was a mistake. The fatal one that led to every other failure.
"Get down!"
Aegon did not react.
Viserion snatched him with his claws, sending him into the sky.
Finally, Aegon woke to the real world, seeing the seas beneath grow smaller.
The sudden burst of speed led to Aegon uncontrollably filling his breeches with his own piss.
"Viserion... I thought... how could you do this?!"
He breathed heavily with anger, looking up.
There was a coldness in the dragon. It didn't even bother giving so much as a glance.
"In battle, it is known that Edric Storm often targets foes of higher value if possible... that is why you must stay in the rear. If you are within his range, he will not spare you."
Aegon recalled some of Jon's last words, leading to a frightening suspicion.
What if...?
When he was tossed aboard one of the Royal Fleet's ships, it seemed true.
"Anyone ordered a silver-haired boy?" One of the men aboard the ship questioned. "Ain't those Targaryen colours?"
"Seize him!" One of the Kingsguard commanded. "That is the Golden Company's false prince."
"I don't get this bloody dragon, one moment he's burning our ships, the next he's burning our foes and throwing enemy princes our way."
"Dragons are harder to understand than women, hah."
Suddenly, he was surrounded by enemies. Aegon was far from a fighting mind, having lost everything important to him. Still... a fire burned in his heart. He drew Blackfyre.
"Don't touch me!"
He wildly swung the sword around.
"That sword looks deadly sharp." One of the men remarked.
The Kingsguard stepped away from his current battle and dashed to him. In the blink of an eye, he was disarmed and kicked onto the floor. He stole Blackfyre from him, along with the scabbard, sheathing the sword back in its place.
"This sword..." The Kingsguard observed it with fascination.
"It's... mine." Aegon protested, trying to regain it.
The Kingsguard kicked him back down effortlessly. He was too strong.
"Tie him up with a rope and lock him in a cabin. I am certain that His Grace has a use for this boy."
"Yes, Ser!"
That was the last he saw of the battle.
[Edric's POV]
Burn. Burn. Burn.
The longer Edric Storm dwelled inside the dragon's body, the more his heart warped as he pushed his vessel to the very limit. Each breath of flame reflected his fury. Thousands upon thousands of men paid the price... collapsing the opposing fleets. First was the Golden Company, then Lys' fleet to the east, and finally...
The dragon became too exhausted. It slowed, its flames weakened. This continued on as Edric's influence on the battle shrank dramatically. Even worse, he was starting to catch arrows and was now too slow to evade.
You useless lizard.
Edric broke free from the dragon, returning to his body.
He returned to his bed, which was soaked by his own sweat. His mind was akin to a labyrinth of shattered glass. With his fury slowly dimming, all that was left was a feeling of extreme exhaustion. His body could hardly move... and now, his mind and spirit had reached a similar state.
Suddenly, he heard thunder and rain.
It gave a feeling of hope and familiarity, if only for a moment... but he immediately realised that it was not his lightning. The battle was still raging on, still very much in the balance. With all of the new magic users growing weary, their effectiveness and impact had also decreased.
His mind grew restless... he heard the fighting above grow louder and more violent. In the end, he forced himself right back up.
He had been right to be restless.
Once he reached the upper deck, the first thing he saw was one of his squires with an axe through their skull.
...
It was a man with an eyepatch. His good eye, was a cold, almost luminous blue. The feeling it left me with... was not one I'd forget. The black hair, black scale armour with various strange symbols on it and above, the golden Kraken flying on a black sea.
It was Euron Greyjoy.
He drew out the axe from Dallin's skull, his eye narrowing on me.
I didn't remember the last time I felt so helpless in a battle. One of my squires was just butchered right before my eyes, and I couldn't do anything about it.
"Dallin... you will be avenged!"
Ragnor came in roaring, but Brienne pushed him aside. She met Euron's axe with her sword, lightning meeting lightning in a thunderous exchange. For a time, they seemed almost equal... but Brienne looked like she was pushing herself while Euron seemed entirely indifferent.
Was it truly... the Night King?
I couldn't shake the feeling.
My bow was in the Plane of Euthymia, my sword, my warhammer... every weapon I had commonly used was out of my reach. Not to mention, my arms were still entirely dead. I could hardly stand on my own feet.
"Your struggle is futile," Euron said dismissively.
Brienne's sword struck the armour, effectively sliding off. Euron countered with a blast of lightning, sending her to the floor. He flashed forward to finish the deed, and time suddenly slowed.
It was all too painful watching someone I cared about approach death slowly.
I glanced to the side.
There was a flaming wild sword cutting through the air quicker than everything else.
It was Nightfall.
It struck the wood between Brienne and Euron, forming a physical barrier which blocked Euron's strike. Euron struck once again, cracking into it... and the third was enough to break it.
A blast of flame rushed across the ship and took the blade from the ground, meeting the axe.
Now, more than ever, he truly looked extraordinary.
Flames sparked at the bottom of his tattered white cloak. Despite the wear and tear, the white armour still shone brilliantly. He stood with confidence like an unshakeable pillar. Euron, meanwhile, retreated, the end of his axe having melted off and fallen to the ground.
"You took your sweat time..." I remarked. "What part of a Kingsguard's duty tells you to stay away a million miles away from the King in a battle?"
"It was... a strategy."
"Regardless, the person you're facing has valyrian steel armour, so be wary of that."
"I see." Arthur nodded. "So this is the infamous Euron Greyjoy."
"Do not let him escape under any circumstances. Kill that Kraken bastard."
"It will be done."
Arthur advanced on Euron Greyjoy, who had... ditched the axe and created a long, thin, sword of ice. My suspicions were right; it was not Euron. It was the Night King using him as a vessel.
He met Arthur blow for blow, who had most definitely been pushing himself. He had been fighting in the vanguard, cutting through Volantis' fleet this entire battle... yet his flames did not dim in the slightest. If anything, he was even more determined.
Still, none of his slashes did anything to the actual armour. The 'Night King' was in a similiar situation, the lightning and ice in his possession being unable to break past Arthur's barrier, which seemingly took the element of whatever struck it - effectively becoming practically immune. However, it was undoubtedly draining to use.
It was a drawn-out duel where neither side could gain much of an edge. Meanwhile, the men aboard the Silence did not interrupt, simply watching. How strange...
Meanwhile, the Robert's Hammer was facing growing opposition from Volantis' fleet. Brienne had stayed close to me, preventing anyone from coming close.
"Brienne, throw him a blunt weapon."
She did as I ordered, taking a warhammer from the rack. Arthur grasped it with his free left hand and blocked the Night King with Nightfall. Afterwards, with a brilliant move, he deflected the ice sword and pushed his body forward - smashing the warhammer into Euron's head.
He fell back... and Arthur proceeded to drive Nightfall through his good eye before slashing down and across his neck, burning through the rest. His head snapped off and rolled to the ground, flames flickering where it once was attached to a body.
It was a clear victory.
The Silence's crew went into a rage, and Arthur burned through all of them with an inferno of fire. Afterwards, he returned to the Robert's Hammer with a smile.
"Retrieve the body and loot everything of value from the ship." I commanded, turning to Arthur. "You did splendidly. I don't think there is any reward in the world befitting of your valour today."
"Your praise is enough, Your Grace." Arthur chuckled. "But, with all due respect, you should return back to your cabin. I can't have you being in danger all the time."
"I'll return there when this battle is won." I shook my head.
"You're too damn stubborn."
His eyes flashed blue as he raised Nightfall.
It can't be...
Time slowed and, again, I could do nothing in the face of death.
Then the sword stopped in place, shaking.
"What's... happening to me?" Arthur muttered in disbelief, trembling. "I... won't do it."
That bastard.
"Is Ser Arthur an enemy?" One of the Stormguard questioned. "That's impossible."
"Do we attack him?"
"We're sure as hell not letting the King die."
Another pushed Ser Arthur back with a shield, putting it in front of me.
"Don't do anything," I commanded. "This is not his doing."
I looked into Ser Arthur's eyes, entering his body.
Indeed... there was a violent clash of fire and ice. My fury reignited. This bastard really tried to possess my friend's body and use it against me.
"GET THE FUCK OUT!!!"
I joined with Ser Arthur's spirit, pushing the Night King right out... but that was not the end of the problem, no. It was only the beginning. I felt him enter my body. Immediately, I retreated and faced off against him.
It was a calculated measure... I was exhausted, and he no longer had to face both of our spirits at once. I could support anyone in such a 'mental' fight, yet no one could help me.
"You've grown weak," I heard the Night King's cold voice in my soul. "Yet... you still fight."
I live to fight. I live to kill you. Nothing else matters...
He tried to possess my body but failed, time and time again. I would rather have died than given my body to him... and my spirit reflected that. After failing, he went down into the depths of my body and integrated himself where I could not reach him.
I abhor this warging shit...
In the end, I couldn't get him out because doing so would mean actively harming myself. I wasn't powerful enough to outright destroy or even severely harm his spirit, either. Still, in some ways, it was better than him going around the Known World and controlling figures with great influence.
If he had turned the Seven Kingdoms against me, then...
He was as caged as I was at the moment. I was not letting him out even if he wanted to leave.
Once I get my magic back, I'll destroy you...
The mental battle was, unfortunately, the final nail in the coffin for my battle efforts. I didn't wake until after it was all over.
[Rhaerra's POV]
It was not the Triarchs of Volantis on those ships, fighting their own war... or the nobles who voted them into power. It was the slaves they sent away to fight their battle, the sellswords they bought off with gold that the slaves had worked for, and they put them on the very ships that the slaves built.
And it was the slaves who would die in this battle, bleeding for the masters who had no care for them.
Initially, they had faced the Golden Company, who were soldiers with a choice. They chose to fight for their prince, but the slaves they fought now? This was not their war...
"Men of Volantis, why do you fight?!" Rhaerra shouted with a voice full of passion in High Valyrian. "For your masters? You're fighting the very force that can free you from your chains! Your masters are frightened, shivering in fear at what we can accomplish, so they send you to fight their battle, to bleed and die for them. You're fighting to keep yourselves, your brothers, your sisters, your friends, your fathers and your mothers in chains!"
"Where is the logic in that?!" Rhaerra questioned. "You can break your chains here and now! Seize hold of your lives, join us in our battle for freedom or even strike out on your own... anything is better than dying for your cruel masters!"
Her words had reached them... and suddenly, foes turned to allies.
[Arthur's POV]
The fighting had lasted nearly a whole day, ending in the evening. Everyone had been too exhausted to do anything else but sleep off the night. Arthur himself slept by Edric's door, interchanging shifts with the Kingsguard. By the afternoon, he still hadn't left his cabin. The situation grew... worrying.
Arthur took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.
Edric sat on the wooden floor, back against the wall, and wine bottle to the side, which had been cracked open. His long black hair had spread over his face, covering most of it. He looked like a broken man.
"Edric... is everything alright?"
"Heh." Edric chuckled. "Alright? How much of our fleet is in the sea? How many men did we lose?"
"Out of the Royal Armada, which had twenty-seven thousand fighting men, there are only about six thousand left. The Iron Fleet suffered the most losses with only a thousand or so fighting men remaining, the Westerlands rear has a similar number, the rest amounts to four thousand, including the Reachmen, Crownlanders and Rhaerra's guild."
"We only have less than a fifth of our original fleet," Edric remarked, laughing. "My arms are fucked, I've entirely lost my elemental magic, I have the Night King trying to eat away at my mind, which is already warped from being inside of a dragon, and I... lost someone important to me. But, yes, everything is... alright."
Many of those things Arthur wasn't even aware of, let alone could understand.
"... Things will get better." He slowly sat down opposite him. "We've gained about five thousand in fighting men thanks to Rhaerra's efforts. She managed to convince the former slaves to our side and against the slaver coalition. All of our opposing fleets have gone into a full retreat and will likely not be returning."
"To add to that, Ser Jaime, Ser Balon, Ser Loras, Valaegor, and the Hound all awakened magic abilities in the battle while I gained a second element. We've also gained a full set of valyrian steel armour from Euron, Blackfyre from Aegon and heaps of other loot. It's... not all bad, eh?"
"I have never felt so tired, Arthur." Edric lowered his head. "Sometimes, I... just want it to end. Life just seems to be full of pain and suffering. Where is the joy in it all?"
"That's what the Night King wants you to think. He wants you to break your spirit, and you're letting him win." Arthur placed his hand on his shoulder. "There's happiness in the world, you just have to live long enough to grasp it. You're the King... there are so many people relying on you... and, honestly, I could never understand the kind of weight that puts on you."
"But you've carried it all this time, as if it were just a splash of water on your back, where anyone else would have been crushed by it. Even after fighting the monstrously huge Kraken, even after controlling a dragon, even after saving my life and bearing the curse of the Night King... you're still standing."
"Working arms or not, magic or no... You are the strongest person in the world, Edric. We swore an oath to each other, remember? To manifest destiny, to live a life without regrets, to realise our dreams..."
"If you were to fall now, would you have realised yours?"
"..." Edric chuckled, his lips curling slightly. "You make me sound like a damn cripple."
"Well..." Arthur scratched his hair. "If your arms don't work..."
"... Fuck you." Edric kicked his arm away.
Arthur chuckled, backing away.
"Forgive me, it's rather rude to make fun of such physical ailments."
"Dickhead." Edric scoffed, slowly rising to his feet. "... But, ultimately, you're right. Thank you, I needed your ever-burning optimism."
"... Always at your service, Your Grace." Arthur bowed graciously.
"I'm going to rebirth myself... and restore my magic." Edric's hair split away, revealing burning blue eyes. "I'll crush the Slaver's Coalition, one city at a time. I'll shove my foot down every Triarch's neck and take everything from the Old Blood of Volantis. I'll burn Lys' magisters alive... every last one... and purge every sellsword company that dared to oppose me - down to the last fucking man."
"All the men and women that fell today because of my decisions... will be avenged, I swear that on everything I hold dear."
Arthur liked the sudden burst of liveliness compared to the depressing state of before, but... it seemed a bit much. Excessively violent - filled with rage. Was this the 'warping' of his mind he mentioned before?
It seemed to not warp, but rather enhance and enflame that side of him.
Regardless, Arthur couldn't argue that it wasn't deserved.
Whatever was coming to them... was well earned.
[Extra - what if Genshin kit]
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Arthur Tudburry
Rating: Six Stars
A Knight whose passion for chivalry burns as bright as the stars, paired with a steadfast and unmovable sense of duty and discipline born from admiration of the heroes of the past and the ambition to surpass them.
Charged attack: Indomitable Flame
Elemental Skill: Eclipse
Absorbs all of the elemental energy, particularly flames, around him and channels it into his blade.
Elemental Skill 2: Absolute Barrier
Grants himself a supremely strong barrier that matches the element that it's initially struck by.
Elemental Burst: Sword of Promised Victory
Channels all of his energy in one mighty slash, all the while lighting the flames of his allies (buffing nearby allies with rejuvenated stamina).
Passive Ability: The King's Sword And Shield
While the King's life hangs in the balance, he receives a significant boost in all attributes.
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"The passive ability is frighteningly accurate." Edric chuckled. "That whole fight with Euron was insane. Brother was really aura-farming with that dramatic ass last-second entrance."
[System: He's been training with Piccolo and SJW while you were away.]
"I can see that..."