Aegon's POV
Groaning uncomfortably, Aegon shifted on his king size bed, trying to rediscover the comfortable warmth that was his blankets. After minutes of flailing and failing to do so have passed, Aegon resigned himself to do the unthinkable. He opened his eyes to let the gentle ray of the morning sun in. Eyes squinting from the uncomfortable glare, Aegon waited a for a while, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, before vision returned to him.
"Ugh I hate morning…" Aegon mumbled to himself, before looking toward his left to a sight of Visenya hogging, and wrapping herself in their shared blanket in a cocoon like fashion. Snorting, Aegon stared amused at the scene before shivering slightly from the unexpected chill.
"Did winter come early? It has only been a year."
Shaking his head, Aegon bent over, and kissed his wife's exposed forehead.
"Hmm, is it morning?" Whispered Visenya softly, shuffling inside her fortress of fluff and warmth.
Smiling fondly at his Senya, Aegon ran his palm gently through her messy platinum hair, and like a touch-starved cat, Visenya purred softly into his hand, as he nodded.
"Uhuh, it seems like winter comes early for us this year. You can just stay in bed for now. I'll ask the servants to bring you breakfast later."
"Uhmum." Mumbled his sleepy dragoness, as he rose from his bed, and got ready for a new day.
After finishing putting on his winter coat lined with stag's fur. Aegon admired his reflection in front of the crystal clear mirror made from Dragonstone glass—a feat he's both proud of, and sad at—as he reached down, and picked up Blackfyre, fastening the blade around his waist. Satisfied, Aegon walked toward the door, not before stopping and lighting the chamber's hearth with a snap of his finger on his way out.
Nodding at the two bowed heads from the guardsmen always stationed in front of his and Visenya's chamber that get rotated out at four hours interval, Aegon headed down the winding hallway of Dragonstone, passing chimeric statues, and some pretty explicit paintings on the way. Before he finally arrived at the grandiose feasthall of Dragonstone.
Aegon smiled at the mid thirty silver haired woman bowing to him, while settling into his seat. "A fine morning is it not Clarisse?"
"A bit cold for my old bone, my Lord, but otherwise it's a wonderful morning." Replied the amused servant, clearly happy to see her lord so chipper despite the dreary weather.
Twisting his lips in feigned disbelief, Aegon shook his head. "Old? Perish the thought!! You're still a beautiful maiden yourself. Hell, if not for Senya potentially feeding me to her Vhagar, I would have wed you instead."
"And I'm sure that has nothing to do with the shepherd's pie that you said, and I quote "something even kings would die for." my Lord." Said a smiling Clarisse, before she asked. "Do you want the usual my Lord?"
"Aye, but with two extra eggs today. I really need something extra to help me get through this miserable weather. And oh, would you also please ask the servant to bring Senya her usual breakfast? I don't think she will want to do much for today." Requested Aegon, before Clarrise bowed, and walked toward the kitchen.
It was not long before breakfast was served, that Aegon started digging into his steak, and eggs, shoving food unusually fast into his mouth at the increased appetite, before pausing at an oddity. It was small at first, he thought. The colors, they were more vibrant. His body felt more full, and lively, but now just after gulping down the same breakfast that he had had for the past 9 years, He finally noticed it. His taste bud is somehow much more receptive than ever before, and he thinks he know the cause of it
The magic, at least the concentration of it, felt more, it felt fuller. Dragonstone has always been a magical place in a literal sense. Where the art of spellcraft itself seemed easier to accomplish. But now? Sitting in this same feasthall that he has dined in for the majority of his life? Aegon felt like he's sitting inside the complex mazes of caves, and tunnels of Dragonmont itself.
A place where fire aligned chaos surrounded his very being, making him feel like he's being embraced gently by an eternal flame. Nudging at the bond he has with Balerion to confirm his theory, Aegon conveyed his feelings to the grumpy dragon. Balerion responded with a lazy, and content growl, with a hint of affirmation in return, as he grew excited.
This is big, this could be something revolutionary. Mayhaps his constant use of magic has finally done one of the things he theorized it could do.
You see, magic, Aegon finds, is like grains of sand in an ocean, and mages are the fishes that swim within it. Right now, most of that sand is left settling on the bottom without any fishes left swimming, stirring the ocean. But with the existence of him, and his family constantly using magic. For you see, a mage body can't generate magic itself, but serve as a container to absorb, and manipulate magic, and the more a mage uses his or her container, the larger that container will be, helping the mage use even more magic.
This whole thing then becomes more like a positive feedback loop, wherein the more he and his family repeat this process by using their magic, the more excite the magic will be. Eventually the amount of excite magic will reach a critical mass, causing a chain reaction that awakens the dormant magic that was caused by the doom, and the death of dragons. Since without Valyria, Planetos lost a major source of mages that help stimulate magic.
Almost rushing to the dragonmont to study this phenomenal further, Aegon paused as he remembered his lordly duty. Winter is almost coming considering the slightly shivering cold this morn. Even with the large grain reserve that could feed all of the mouths of the current Dragonstone for 5 years, it would be safer to start shifting from wheat to potatoes now. This, plus the expanding port town, both required his direct supervision, and to abandon it all for his own wants seemed wrong and selfish for Aegon. Sighing, and Lamenting at all this works just from being the lord of Dragonstone, Aegon sometimes regrets his invasion plan for Westeros. But ambition, plus the future for his children pushed him forward.
After finishing with breakfast, Aegon finally got out of his keep with six guards in tow. As he walked down the open stone pathway leading to the newly built port town at the foot of his keep, Aegon looked around Dragonstone in marvel. To think it has only been nine years since Dragonstone, the last bastion for the last dragonlords, has been nothing but a barren rock with a couple of villages, and what could barely be called a fishing town. Compared to it now, with countless more villages, two large towns each forming around a port, and a newly built shipyard respectively. His home is fast on its way to rival the old Driftmark not only in size, but in wealth, and all of it is thanks to three things.
To his left, Aegon could see the active glass workshops against the backdrop of the morning mist of the narrow sea, away from the shipyard-town, with smoke billowing out of chimneys, working away and generating massive amounts of coins for Aegon like a well oiled machine. It was around ten years ago, when his ten year old self, and some of his old maesters figured out how to create cloudy, semi transparent glass, almost equal to the Myrish in quality. He remembered that day well, For it was both the happiest, and saddest day of his life, with his then alive father being the proudest he has seen the man ever been. Little did the man know, it was also the day Aegon signed his father's death sentence.
Thinking back on his father's ambush done by the Myrish in retaliation seven years ago, he felt his blood boil, as the guards following behind him backed away from the increased temperature, surprising Aegon at his increased magical prowess. He reigned in his rage and let out a sad sigh. What's done is done, Aegon thought. Besides, he had avenged his father by burning down all of those bastard fleets and ports in retaliation, despite their insistence that his lord father's attack by Myrish pirate ships was an unfortunate accident. A bloodthirsty smile bloomed on his face, as he thought about their current precarious situation that he, and his Senya, with their dragons helped cause, and vowed to finish the job once his family has grown big, and strong enough.
Shaking his head, Aegon looked to the right, toward the elevated mountainside of Dragonmont, and spotted the steps like farms carved out of the volcano itself. It was hard at first, to create terrace farms found in his old world invented by the Inca. Hell, he bet it would have taken decades, mayhaps centuries to carve, break up large rocks, and transport fertile soil up a literal mountain to create suitable farmlands.
Thankfully, He, and his family have what most ancient civilizations could only dream about. They have giant flying weapons of mass destructions that can also serve as mules to dig out hard rocks, and flatten vast swaths of lands, lands that are already fertile, from all those minerals inside the volcanic soil. They have dragons.
It only took a year all told, for all three of their dragons to make their first farm, and with the increased foodsource, he was able to support the increased population from buying, and freeing learned slaves, from all the coins he made from selling glass, thereby creating more manpower to clear more farmlands in the process. This created a chain reaction of sorts, that by the end of last year, Dragonstone had farms littered around almost all its mountainous regions except the area where the dragons lived, and made enough foodstuffs to feed up to thirty thousand mouths, with the actual population being roughly five and twenty thousand. A far cry from the old Dragonstone with a population of mere thousands. Of course this is not mentioning the glass greenhouses that have popped up near one of his towns, further helping to feed his people during the winter.
Stopping at the newly built steel gate of Dragonstone, Aegon nodded in acknowledgment at the bowed sentries, before three soldiers on the left side of the stone watchtower pulled a large steel lever, activating the mechanism to unlock the heavy steel door.
One young Targaryen soldier bearing Valyrian features ran up to him, and asked with a nervous stutter. "Will yo-you be needing the horses, m'lo-my Lord?"
"What do you say men? Do you all want your arses polished on our fine steeds today?" Asked Aegon, grinning amusingly, to his guards.
"No my Lord." "Me wife asked me to lose a few pounds, my Lord." "Seems like a fine morning to stretch our legs, my Lord."… That, and more were the replies along with some laughing and snickering, as Aegon turned back to the Valyrian soldier
"You heard them, my good man. We have no need for horses today."
Bowing his head timidly, and responding with a "yes, my Lord" the soldier was about to turn around and go back to his post, before Aegon's hand shot out to the young man's shoulder, holding the soldier back.
"You're new here, correct? What's your name, young man?"
"Gaed-Gaedrys my Lord." Stuttered Gaedrys, before he bowed low
Aegon smiled his most disarming smile before patting Gaedrys on his shoulder. "Well Gaedrys my goodman, contrary to popular belief, I won't feed you to my dragon if you irritate me. Besides, Balerion much prefers whales over skinny humans. " Jested Aegon jovially at the nervous man, before he continued. "Anyway, where are you from Gaedrys?"
Hesitation seemed to color the young man's face before he gulped and answered. "From Myr my lord, I was an ex slave in training to be a soldier. Of course that was before your burning of all Myrish fleet, and your lordship merciful act in freeing us, and giving us a home."
The common background of the majority of people on Dragonstone, Aegon wagered. With the Myrish assasination of his lord father, Aegon, at the young age of fourteen, just one year after his father death, mounted Balerion alongside his sister, Visenya, and her own mount Vhagar, went to war with Myr alongside the Velaryon, and Celtigar's fleet.
Such an act would have earned the ire of the majority of power in Essos, for they had casted down the chain of their Valyrian dragonlord's master just a century prior, and no one was eager to have those very same chains foisted onto them again. A sentiment Aegon knew too well, and would have served as a big hindrance to his campaign, if not for two things. The Targaryen's own assurance of this being a war of retribution rather than conquest, and the rising threat of Volantis' Tiger faction.
This resulted in a war that lasted less than six months, with countless Myrish ships, and ports burned using dragons, and the seamless communication that is the glass candle. A war that's also known as The War of The Dragon's Wrath.
It was also through this campaign that Aegon acquired a steady channel of "slaves" to serve as his loyal, and grateful population base for his expansion of Dragonstone, and eventually part of Westeros, as well as a large amount of gold. Seriously, Myr probably has as much coin as the Lannister, mayhaps more, just from the portion that he gained for one of his concessions.
And all it took him was a few minor trade concessions on glass goods, and the promise of future participation in the Essosi conflict against Volantis, with the promise of fair distribution of loots, and spoils for every battle he participated in. Which is nothing but a future extra channel for his loyal population base.
Begrudgingly grateful at the Myrish, Aegon nodded his head with a charming smile at the young Valyrian, and said. "Are you and all your breathens adjusting well to Dragonstone? I know it can be daunting at first."
Touched by his lord's compassion, Gaedrys responded. "We are adjusting well, my lord. Me and my brothers, and sisters from Myr found it hard at first, but just like any true Myrish would, we endured. And here we are, with good food to fill our bellies, and strong wines to warm our stomach, there's not much else we can ask for. You have been very kind to us, my lord."
Looking at the bowing Gaedrys in exasperation, Aegon forced the young man up before he inquired. "How about your numbers and letters, are the learned men, and scholars doing their duties well?"
"They are doing their jobs well my lord. It's just common that I'm having some trouble with to both speak and write." Spoke Gaedrys with a grinning face, seeming more confident as he got to know his lord.
"Glad to hear it goodman. Here's for your trouble." Said Aegon patting the young man's back, and tossing him a gold coin before walking away.
Gaedrys yelled out, while fumbling around to grab the coin out of the air. "My lord, this is too much!!!"
"Keep it as a reminder that we won't be needing horses anytime soon, not at least till I turn 40." Yelled out a fading Aegon, walking in the distance toward the developing fishing town.
-Scene Skip-
Aegon walked with purpose, boots crunching against the gravel road as six of his personal guards followed in a tight formation behind him—silent, alert, and clad in the black and red color of house Targaryen. Around him, the hustling and bustling of the small folks filled the town with dust, noise, and most of all life.
The town was growing, Aegon thought with a smile.
What had once been a crude scattering of dilapidated docks and shacks now spread into something more permanent. Rows of new homes, storehouses, and workshops rose in a pattern of ordered chaos. Workers moved like ants—hauling stone, sawing beams, shouting instructions through the din. Children darted through alleyways. Smoke curled from chimneys. The whole town smelled of salt, and sweat. And despite the harshness of it all, despite the challenges these people's faces in their new life, smiles, and laughter donned their faces, his people's faces. For Aegon has given them the sweetest of poisons, hope.
Unlike back in Myr, where the majority of his population is from, everyman's fruit of labor there was plucked by their own master. Here, men and women are allowed to earn their keep. Those who cleared land on Dragonstone, are assigned land of their own, given permission from him, and his sisters of course, in the form of land deeds. Similar to how a knight is given the right to rule over a village or a town, but on a much smaller scale in the form of a house or a farm.
Although the priority right now is to those with families, which are fewer in numbers, but given the much increased population, lands are already slowly running out. Of course that can be solved once his invasion plan is readied to be commenced, and even a fool could see that Aegon's building of his army is for a bigger campaign, and that his eyes are set on Westeros.
With his promise of non interferences of Essos extracted by the Myrish, and many other Essosies powerhouses like Lys, Tyrosh, Bravos, etc… It became less likely for Aegon to set his eyes east. That, and the teaching of the Commons letters to freed Myrish slaves, and his own small folks, plus the threat of the faceless men, and the dwindling numbers of members of house Targaryen made conquering Westeros a much safer endeavor. No, he will not risk the daggers and poisons of the Essosies upon his family, Aegon promised himself.
Besides, he has no fears for Westerosi knights, and their peasant armies. Armored or not, all men burned the same under dragonflame. And with dragons to burn armies, and men to hold their conquered lands, Aegon reckoned he can take Westeros bit by bit in bite size pieces, starting with the disputed lands, then moving toward the Riverlands, and from there to other kingdoms, with sometimes in between to strengthen his claims in these regions. Eventually, with him at the helm, his family will rule a continent in the same fashion that old Valyria had ruled Essos.
Snapping out of his thoughts, Aegon arrived at an area filled with half built homes, and men pouring grey liquid with slushy like consistency into wooden molds. To another direction, other men can be seen prying open those similar, but older molds. Revealing freshly hardened, smooth faced stones, before another crew came with large wooden sledges, and hauled those very same stones away, toward the unfinished houses. There, others were already setting similar blocks in place—stacking them on the unfinished building, sealing the gaps with quick binding agents with seasoned and practiced efficiency like a well oiled machine.
Liquid Stone, the third and final reason for Dragonstone's rapid expansion, and his proudest achievement to date. With a mix of lime, volcanic ashes, and water, Aegon has been able to recreate what the Roman used to build their empire three years ago, and has accelerated his own infrastructure development by decades. That plus the replication of a primitive assembly line had made developing towns, and villages that much easier.
One of the workers, a muscular bronze skin middle aged Dornish man, with black hair, and deep calluses marring his hands noticed Aegon, as he trotted over to him, and bowed.
"My lord."
"Ilyard old friend, how are the kids?" Aegon greeted, as he patted Ilyard's shoulder.
"They are well my lord, —— is learning his letters so fast. He's going to make a great healer one day, I just know it." Smiled —— preening like a peacock.
"Glad to hear it my friend, glad to hear it. Children are our future after all." Nodding his head, Aegon replied, grinning goofily at a thought.
"Thank you my lord, I also heard that congratulations are in order, for your own child is on the way." Said Ilyard, Noticing his lord goofy grin.
"Aye, and I'm both delighted, and frightful at the notion. Here look." Said Aegon as he held out his trembling hand. "Gutted my first man at the age of 14. Yet here I am, shaking at the mere thought of holding my child."
"I also had the jitters when my first born was out of my wife's belly. Trust me when I say this, my lord, but it will be worth it in the end." Illyard assured Aegon, face filled with great conviction.
"Thank you, truly. It helps to speak plainly with those who are fathers." Smiled Aegon wistfully at his blessed curse.
"Aye, I imagine fews find it hard to speak so plainly with someone of your station, my lord." Agreed Ilyard as silence reigned between the two men, before being broken by Aegon.
"Enough of this soppy business, how are things going?"
That seemed to set off a passionate spark on the man's face as he spilled out.
"Well right now we have more than enough workers, liquid stones, woods, and other materials, my lord. Plus most of the sewages are already prebuilt, preplanned, and set in place. It's just that lands are running out my lord. I don't think we'll have enough to house the rest of our people that are living in those structures you called apartments." Before ending it with a troubled expression
Aegon grinned mischievously, before leaning in and softly whispered. "Land won't be a problem for long, old friend. Soon we'll have more of it that we can manage."
Leaning away, Aegon patted Ilyard and said. "Hell, maybe you can rejoin us, and get back to the good old days. What do you think? mixing stones, and yelling at green boys gotta get old by now. It would be a shame if the world lost their Ilyard the Red Hands to bricks and mortars."
"Oh it's not so bad. You should have seen how one of our younger boy pissed himself when I gave him that look." Jested Dornish man, which elicited a laugh from Aegon, as he continued in a more solemn tone. "Besides, I like what I'm doing right now. It has a certain charm to it, building, and creating things instead of what we did back in Myr." By the end of it, Ilyard was looking at Aegon apologetically, as he waited for his liege lord's reply.
He knew, of course, that if Aegon wished it, he would have no choice but to draw his blade and stain his hands with blood once more for his liege. But he also knew his lord well—Hell, he had known him since the days when Aegon was but a boy, wielding that very same blade at his hip, the day he struck down his chains, and robbed him of his misery. And he knew now, more than ever, that Aegon would never rob him—or anyone under his command—of the right to choose.
Humming to himself, Aegon walked past Ilyard, his guard following him in tow. Before swivelling his head back with a gentle smile. "Well what are you waiting for, old friend? An invitation? Come now, show me what made Ilyard the Red Hand himself so content as to put down his swords, and retire."
Raising his head, Illyard smiled back, as he nodded his head, and said "My lord" before running after Aegon, his mind firmer with every step forward at his decision to follow the man in front of him.
On and on Aegon and Ilyard went. Inspecting every half built home, every freshly laid foundation, as the Dornish man went on about his crew's progress, praising them to the fourteen flames, before a sudden commotion appeared in the distance, interrupting the duo's conversation.
Behind Aegon, one of his guards shifted, right hand on his pommel, as he asked. "My lord?"
Aegon turned, narrowing his eyes, as he looked at a galloping brown steed in the distance, kicking up a trail of dust cloud.
"That should be one of our runners, but just in case, everyone should be on guard."
And just like that, a floodgate has been opened as all six of his men's hands shifted to their pommels, and four men of his guards moved up before Aegon, poised to spring forth, and defend their liege from whatever harm that dares come his way.
Ilyard himself picked up a large hammer on one of the tables, and stood right next to his lord. Retired he might be, he's not gonna let someone harm his liege right in front of his eyes
"Make way!!! Make way for lord Aegon's messenger!!!" Bellowed the runner, wearing a black and red tunic of House Targaryen.
And just from those few words, the crowd parted like how Moses parted the red sea, leaving a human-devoid path still strewn with many an obstacle.
This did not deter the horsemen however, as he skilfully maneuvered his way past the rough concrete road, littered halfway with piles of bricks, and building equipments leaving a trail of dirt cloud in the process.
Jumping over a stack of rectangular wooden mold boxes, The brown horse stopped five feets away from Aegon and his group of guards before the runner himself jumped down from his steed, and kneeled down before Aegon, sweat dripping down from his brows.
"My lord, Ser Quenton sent me, there's been a development. The trade fleets that departed a year ago are back. All 50 of them, including the Celtigar, and Velaryon ships."
"Impossible, even the earliest of them aren't due back till next year. And what did you mean by all of them? Not to mention the 5 galleons, and 10 carracks that went to Yi-Ti, the other 35 should have splitted up, and gone to different ports. How can they all be here at the same time?" Aegon questioned with disbelief.
Hands clenched, Aegon wondered. From the sudden drop in temperature, to the increased presence of magic, and now this?
Something is not right, and Aegon hates it when things happen that are not within his control.
Cowed at his liege's intense questioning gaze, the runner squeezed out. "I'm not quite sure, my lord. I was just ordered to call for you when we spotted the ships. But that's not—" He swallowed. "The strangest part, my lord."
Aegon said nothing. He waited.
"We saw flickers of lights, a couple dozen of them through the fog. At least the dock workers did. At first we thoug—" The runner wheezed, seemingly out of breath. "We thought nothing of it. Merely wild delusions conjured by the minds of tired, and weary men. But it was not till after the third hour passed that we saw them, our ships, sailing past the morning mist."
Aegon stared past the messenger, past the half finished homes, past the anxious faces of nearby workers. His gaze turned toward the port. "They should be docked by now, yes?" The runner bowed, as Aegon nodded. "Illyard, we'll talk later." Said Aegon, before yelling out, "Everyone gets back to work."
Turning to his guards, He urged them to follow. "Come men, good or ill, this omen is not something we can ignore."
By the time they reached the dock, the chaos had spread like wildfire. Crowds lined the wooden platforms as sounds of yelling and arguing could be heard.
All of that stopped barring the shouting in the distance as soon as Aegon stepped on the main wharf. All around him, sweaty dockworkers from young to old parted ways as he walked past them, his escorts in tow.
Ahead, near the pier where most of his fleet's ships are docked, a tight knot of shouting men surrounded Ser Quenton, the commander of his army. But at the center of it, to the right side of Quenton, stood one man—still as stone, arms crossed, face unreadable.
Orys.
Aegon walked past Quenton without slowing.
Past the squabbling captains. Past the sailors with salt still in their beards and confusion in their eyes. Past the noises that stopped abruptly, past the mystery, the absurdities that kept happening on this godforsaken day.
He stopped in front of the man who had left one year ago, he stopped in front of his brother.
Orys Baratheon, his bastard brother, his warhammer, his blood. The only man that can be entrusted to lead one of his most important missions, the chief captain of his fleet to Yi Ti.
They looked at each other. Neither of them spoke a word, as they stood in stoic silence, before they both let out a smile, a true smile, one that is reserved for those they loved dearly, one that you gave to family.
Aegon stepped forward, and embraced his brother.
"Stubborn bastard." He muttered against Orys' shoulder. "You look like shit, smell like one too."
Orys let out a deep guttural laugh as he huffed a quiet breath of amusement. "Aye, and I feel like one too."
Aegon pulled back, hands still gripping his brother's arms. "Are you well brother?"
Orys nodded. "Alive, we all are. The gods favored us this time brother. I did what you asked of me. I've got the worms. Although I did not expect for us to be here." He paused, and looked deeply into Aegon's violet orbs. "Is this somehow related to one of your studies into the—uh… higher mysteries?"
Aegon gave his brother the look, the same look that he gave Orys everytime their late father used to question them about the many mischiefs they were suspected of.
Taking the hint from Aegon, Orys dropped the subject, as Aegon looked around at all his captains, before turning back to Orys.
"So, want to tell me how in the seven hells did you come back 2 years ahead of schedule?"
"I'm not so sure myself, brother. One minute we were all on board our ships, readying our goods for another day of trading. Then out of nowhere, a massive ball of white ethereal flame lit up in the sky like a second sun before engulfing all of our fleet." Pausing Orys looked back toward the sea, at the thinning morning mist, and continued. "Next thing we know, we were surrounded by fog in the middle of the narrow sea as a strong gust of wind started pushing us toward Dragonstone."
Aegon's eyes opened in disbelief, as he looked around him to all the surrounding captains. "Did the same thing happen to your fleet too, Ser Vaeron?"
"Yes my lord, although we were sleeping at the time, and we only saw a bright flash of light before we're here." Answered the chief captain of the Velaryon's fleet to Volantis, a third cousin to his mother, and uncle, and head of house Tyde, a knightly house on Driftmark.
"Speak plainly good Ser." Aegon urged as he spotted the hesitation marring Vaeron's face.
"There's something else, my lord. Before yesterday, we planned on going out for a feast that day to celebrate our profits. But somehow, all of us felt a pull, an urge to stay on our ships. As if… as if something wanted us there."
More captains spoke of similar stories, bright flashes of lights, a strange compulsion to stay on their ships that day, and the unnatural gust of wind after.
Aegon felt it, the tightening knot forming in his gut.
This wasn't a chance, this was deliberate. Someone, or something wanted them on their boat yesterday. It made sure of it, then snatched them from different corners of the earth, and placed them here at his feet. The question now is why?
Then—
"Monster!!!!!"
The scream tore through the crowd, catching everyone's attention, as heads snapped upward toward one of the galleon's crowd nest.
On it stood a sailor with a far-eye in his hand.
"Monsters in the sky!!!"
"Give me a far-eye." Aegon snapped coldly
One was handed to him, as he raised it toward where the sailor was pointed.
Shapes, dozens of them. One might mistake it for birds, but with his far-eye, Aegon could see clearer.
Winged women shaped monsters that looked straight out of a horror movie.
Siren, Aegon thought. Part woman, part bat, part mermaid, with a pair of leathery wings growing out of their lower torso, and snake-like tails for legs with razor sharp stings at the end of it. Their faces on the other hand, oh their faces looked like some demons that just crawled straight out of the doom of Valyria.
Bat liked faces with sharp fangs that looked like they could skewer a full armored knight.
Aegon lowered his far-eye, violet orbs wide open in disbelief.
"Oh what fresh hell is this?" He muttered.
A/N: so hey… sorry for the long delays for any of y'all reading this. I wanted to update this like 3 weeks ago, but then my cousin studying in Japan came back, and since I was the host, i couldn't really write much. Plus story boarding this, and studying deeper into the world of the witcher took me longer than expected. But here i am. Will try to update more often, at least 1 a week, and also stock up more chapters on my P site, but that's all. Also if yall are reading this on AlternateHistory, there's a nsfw version on questionable questing, and webnovel under the same name so check it out of if yall want. Anyway see ya!!!