-Chapter Start-
He had always lived here.
In this Ivory tower, in a room with no door.
The tower's heights reaching the very clouds that reigned above the realm below.
On Top of the tower was a endless flame made of rainbows, a stream of all colours mixing and dancing, celebrating the days and nights while sparkling like the stars.
This place was all that the boy had known.
The Ivory tower only had one room, which was located at the peak of the tower. IA warm but isolated place with no room for companions.
Inside that room was the boy, toys of miniatures of knights and lords from the age hero's clattered around him.
A knight of white laid besides his face, it's black sword raised above it as if piercing a beast from the sky's.
He was resting on the floor, fully laying his back on it and looking at the ceiling of the room which held paintings and imagery of things he did not know. They moved and shifted so to create new imagery and destroy the old.
Despite the Ivory Tower pale exterior, inside the room was endlessly black. From the furniture, to most of the toys, the bed and even the bath all were black.
It was all the boy had known.
He turned his head and his small hands reached for the toys, now a Knight who's armour was a reflective surface as if wearing a mirror.
But in that reflection he could not see his face.
Anger grew inside the boy and he threw away the toy in frustration, it quickly rolled under his bed, out of his sight.
All the novelty of the room had faded over time.
So he stood up and approached the only form of interest, the window of the tower.
Stepping over the various messes , the dark sheets of the bed, the books of old tongue and of a cold age and his dark clothing's he reached the window.
Laying both hands on the ledge, he peered out of it.
At first he saw an endless sea of white, clouds being the only view.
Until he heard sounds of laughter and joy.
His eyes looked downwards, trying to find the source of it.
The clouds parted, allowing him to see the world below.
What the boy saw left him in a state of awe.
It was a land of honey and milk, of golden hills and endless summers.
Where men and their wives danced in holy matrimony. Their sons and daughters laughed beside them with a crown of flowers upon their heads.
The boy leaned further, he wanted to see more.
Nay, he needed to.
He found more sites of wonder, a man who sailed a giant snake collecting treasures from all the world could offer.
He saw a mighty smith forging a castle that could withstand storms and a god's grief.
A golden Lion who wed a castle and his bride gave birth to a mountain of gold.
He saw Knight's crowning princesses of love and beauty and a kiss that annoited them both.
A world of land and honey and milk, where truth was all that was and virtue was ingrained in all hearts.
The boy raised himself upon the windows ledge, his feet upon it. His auburn hair blowing away from his face as he felt the winds of dreams.
He was ready to leap, to join the land of summers and nobility.
A land far away from the Ivory tower and its dark room.
"...."
Until he noticed.
At the end of the land, past the seas and stars above, past all the stories of love and honour and beyond the worlds songs, lay a corpse.
A corpse of shadow.
It did not move, as a corpse should not.
But the longer the boy's eyes lingered the more it seemed to come alive, a new dread filling it .
As if sensing his gaze the corpse slowly rose and as it did, it stretched it's dark wings casting a shadow over the land, consuming it with a everlasting darkness.
Warm Golden summers became black and cold winters.
Glorious Knights left heart broken widows.
Smith's used their own flesh and bones to craft abominations. Creatures who preyed on the soft and innocent for pleasure and sadistic joy.
Families waged war against one another as if each slain and sinned against were not kin. With fathers devouring mothers and laying with daughters and their sons swearing vengeance.
A Cycle of hatred and pleasure.
When the Corpse, nay, the monster rose to its full height the boy let out a soundless cry. Even larger then the Ivory tower, taller then the clouds above , the boy finally saw it.
A Dragon.
Its wings a endless shadow and its scales hardened and sharp with evil. It was black as coal, darker than the night and the endless winters it brought.
The Boy met it's eyes, a baleful green which held flames of it's endless victims, their souls burning in its green flame.
"Nuha jorrāelagon, skoro syt gaomagon ao deny nyke sīr?" it spoke in an ancient valyrian tongue that the boy knew but could not understand.
As if his soul could not bear it, the weight of the dragon.
"Iā tegun hen honey se milk should sagon iā kisalbar syt īlva,a endless delight hen cruelty se pleasure"
The Voice thundered in the boy's ears and he was quick to grab them falling back inside the tower.
"Ao rȳbagon ñuha brōzagon se refuse naejot māzigon, do ao gīmigon skorkydoso bōsa eman waited?"
The tower began to shake, his toys shattered into pieces, the boy quickly stood and ran to his bed, leaping upon it.
He tried to scream but no sound came. The shaking continued he could feel it inside his very bones, nay his soul.
He shut his eyes and covered his ears.
Then it all stopped. The Ivory tower was still and the voice was silent.
He removed his hands from his ears and opened his eyes.
The Ivory tower had fallen apart, parts of the room had collapsed leaving gaps where the boy could see the world below.
All that remained was a endless sea of green flames and a the cold night sky, their were no stars nor moon.
Inside the green flames he saw the soul's of before and what it to come. They all reached for him but the Ivory tower, even if broken stood higher then what they could reach.
The boy still remained on the bed, no longer trusting the floor and feared that he might fall if he left it.
But then he heard it again, the dragon's voice, coming from under his bed. This time he understood for it spoke to his soul.
"You're heart still wavers, yes it is true, but give heed to my call though it is a task that seems still far beyond your means", it's said with a deep dark hiss.
From under the bed a round object rolled rolled out. The boy's eyes focused on it.
"If you would face me, seek me out and I shall embrace thee".
The object stopped rolling across the room, behind it left a trail of blood and slowly turned to him.
It was a head, it had a deep brown set of hair and a beard, the man's face held pug-like features and one of it's eyes was deep brown.
The other had a wooden stake piercing it. Blood still flowed from the wound.
"But there is no denying me," said Harwin Strong in a voice not his own, "For our feast has yet to begin".
Urrigon Targaryen knew no more as the world burned.
A land of milk and honey no more