The throne room of Dragonstone was not built for children.
It was a cold, echoing hall — all sharp obsidian and somber flame, with dragon-shaped pillars and a domed ceiling painted with constellations long lost to time. The throne itself sat crooked on a platform of broken rock, a jagged seat no more comfortable than the crown that would someday rest on my head.
And yet here I sat.
Not in play.
But in judgment.
At just over three years old, I summoned the first of my chosen.
"The Court must begin," I told Lucien that morning.
We sat by the high forge, steam hissing softly around us. Balerion lay behind me, tail curled, smoking slightly from his last flight over the lava plains.
Lucien raised an eyebrow, though he did not question me. "And what titles shall we bestow, my flame?"
I pressed my palm into the carved stone, fire curling at my fingertips. "Not lords," I said. "Not yet. First come the loyal. Those who serve not because they must — but because they believe."
[Faction Creation Unlocked: Inner Court of Flame][Titles: Flamebinder, Stormblade, Seer of Ashes, Hand of Fire, Warden of Shadows][Court Seats Available: 5/5]
Lucien bowed. "Shall I find them?"
I looked to the open skies above.
"No," I whispered. "They're already on their way."
The First to Arrive
The first was a girl no older than eight. She rode into the courtyard alone, draped in dark wool and fire-dyed leather, her hair cut short like a soldier.
They called her Nyssa of Norvos, a half-Valyrian orphan who had strangled a slaver with her bare hands before she learned to write.
She stood before my tiny throne, eyes blazing, and dropped to one knee without a word.
[Flamebinder Nyssa — Class: Warrior-Seer][Skill: Bloodfire Channeling — Converts pain into magic]
"She has the sight," Visenya murmured behind me. "I see the way the winds fear her."
I nodded. "One of us."
The second was a former pirate prince from the Stepstones, exiled and presumed dead. His name was Daemar Blacktyde, but his soul had burned bright long before his ship was swallowed by fire.
He walked in with a cracked sword and a half-healed burn across his throat.
He kneeled.
And laughed.
"You burn like me, boy," he rasped. "You got that true flame."
[Stormblade Daemar — Class: Sea-Warrior / Naval Lord][Skill: Tidefire Command — Control over wind and current in battle]
Even Rhaenys looked intrigued. "He smells like salt and lightning."
"And death," Balerion added in my mind.
The third was not a man, but a creature.
A masked assassin, dressed in robes of black and crimson, silent as shadow and cold as winter steel. His name was whispered only once:
Shade.
He did not kneel.
He simply appeared beside my throne, held out a dagger forged of blackglass — and vanished again into the dark.
[Warden of Shadows: Shade — Class: Ghostblade][Skill: Absolute Loyalty (Oathbound)][Special Trait: Cannot be tracked, even by gods]
Lucien only smiled. "He's one of mine," he said.
I believed him.
The Council Forms
By the time the fifth arrived — Elaria Vael, a former Red Temple scholar from Lys with flaming hair and eyes like coals — the throne room no longer felt cold.
She took her seat without permission.
She lit a candle with a look.
[Seer of Ashes — Elaria Vael — Class: Flame Oracle][Skill: Fire Prophecy — Can read futures through ash and flame]
"You are not a prince," she said to me calmly.
I tilted my head. "No?"
"You are a god," she whispered. "And this is the beginning of your church."
[Fire Court Established — 5/5 Seats Filled][Court Loyalty: 100%][Religious Influence: Rising]
That Night…
My mother, Daenara, sat beside me on the balcony overlooking the sea.
"You've gathered monsters," she said, voice half-proud, half-fearful.
"They are mine," I replied. "And they are loyal."
She looked at me with haunted eyes. "And what happens when you no longer need your mother, Aegon?"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I watched the stars.
"I'll always need the one who bore the flame," I whispered. "But I am not a child."
From behind, my father's voice came — stern, as always.
"No. You're not. You're becoming something else."
He didn't speak again that night.
But for the first time… he bowed his head when he left the room.
Closing....
I stood at the center of the Fire Court the next morning, five shadows kneeling around me.
My sisters flanked me, dragons perched on their shoulders.
Balerion loomed behind, wings curled around the throne.
"We will not beg for crowns," I said aloud.
"We will build them. In stone, in blood, in gold, in fire."
"And when the world comes to worship — it will find us waiting."