Chapter 2 – Memories of the Sea
The first thing Aeryn Targaryen learned in his new life was patience.
It was not easy.
Inside the body of a child, patience felt like a prison.
His mind remembered freedom—standing on the deck of a ship beneath endless skies, wind in his hair and the open sea stretching toward the horizon.
But now?
He was trapped in a small body that could barely walk.
Still… he adapted.
Because adaptation was something Edward Kenway had always been good at.
A Mind Too Old
By the time Aeryn turned three years old, the servants had begun whispering about him.
"He watches everything."
"That child understands more than he should."
"He barely cries."
One maid even claimed she saw him studying maps in the castle library.
She wasn't wrong.
Dragonstone was full of places where a curious mind could wander.
Ancient halls.
Tower staircases.
Hidden balconies overlooking the sea.
And most importantly…
The library.
Aeryn had discovered it by accident while exploring the castle corridors.
At first he could barely read.
But Edward Kenway's memories helped him learn quickly.
Languages.
Letters.
Maps.
Navigation.
Within months he was reading books far beyond what a normal child should understand.
Histories of Westeros.
Stories of dragons.
Accounts of the great Targaryen kings.
One particular topic interested him more than anything else.
Dragons.
Huge beasts capable of melting armies.
Creatures bound only to the bloodline of House Targaryen.
If the stories were true, then one day he might ride one.
The thought alone made his heart race.
A pirate captain with a dragon…
Edward Kenway would have loved that.
Learning to Move Again
By age five, Aeryn had already begun testing his body.
At first the movements were clumsy.
His balance wasn't what it used to be.
His muscles were small.
Weak.
But the instincts remained.
Every assassin learned three fundamental skills.
Observe.
Move silently.
Control your body.
Dragonstone's corridors became his training ground.
At night, when the castle slept, Aeryn would slip from his bed.
Barefoot.
Silent.
Careful.
Servants believed the prince slept peacefully.
They had no idea he was sneaking through half the castle.
He practiced walking without sound.
Stepping only on certain parts of the floor.
Avoiding loose stones.
Avoiding creaking wood.
Avoiding torchlight.
It felt natural.
Like slipping back into an old habit.
One night he reached the outer walls of Dragonstone.
The wind nearly knocked him over.
Far below, the sea roared against the cliffs.
A normal child would have run back inside.
Aeryn climbed onto the wall instead.
Carefully.
Slowly.
His feet balanced on the narrow stone edge.
The wind whipped his silver hair across his face.
His heart pounded.
But not from fear.
From excitement.
This was the closest thing to freedom he had felt since dying as Edward Kenway.
Good balance, he thought.
Still need practice.
He took another step.
Then another.
The drop below was easily two hundred feet.
One mistake would mean death.
But assassins learned early that fear was an enemy.
Control your breathing.
Focus on your steps.
The stormy sea below reminded him of something else.
Ship masts.
He had balanced on thinner surfaces during storms in the Caribbean.
Compared to that…
This was easy.
Then suddenly—
"Aeryn?!"
The shout nearly made him slip.
He froze.
Turning slowly, he saw someone standing in the doorway leading to the wall.
A girl about ten years old.
Silver hair.
Purple eyes.
Royal clothing.
She looked completely shocked.
It was
Rhaenyra Targaryen.
The Princess and the Strange Boy
Rhaenyra stared at him like she had just witnessed madness.
"What are you doing?!"
Aeryn carefully stepped down from the wall.
"Walking."
"You were going to fall!"
"I wasn't."
"You're five!"
He shrugged slightly.
The princess crossed her arms.
"I swear you're the strangest child in this entire castle."
Aeryn tilted his head.
"Strange how?"
"You appear out of nowhere," she said. "Servants keep saying they hear footsteps at night."
Aeryn remained silent.
Her eyes narrowed.
"…it's you."
He said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Rhaenyra suddenly started laughing.
"You sneak around the castle like a thief!"
"Observation practice," he said calmly.
"Observation practice?"
"Yes."
"For what?"
He thought about the truth.
Because I used to be a pirate assassin.
But explaining reincarnation to a Targaryen princess felt… complicated.
So he simply said,
"Adventure."
Rhaenyra studied him for a moment before smiling.
"You're interesting, cousin."
Then she looked toward the cliffs.
"You know what's even more interesting?"
"What?"
She pointed toward the distance.
Far across the volcanic slopes of Dragonstone…
A massive shadow moved.
Something enormous shifted near the mountain.
Something with wings.
A dragon.
Aeryn's eyes widened slightly.
The creature lifted its head, letting out a deep roar that echoed across the island.
Even from this distance the sound vibrated through the stone beneath their feet.
Rhaenyra grinned.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
Aeryn nodded slowly.
"Yes."
But in his mind something else stirred.
Dragons weren't just beautiful.
They were power.
Power strong enough to change the fate of kingdoms.
Power strong enough to survive the coming war.
Because Aeryn remembered the stories.
He remembered how badly the war known as the
Dance of the Dragons
would devastate House Targaryen.
Dragons killing dragons.
Family killing family.
And somewhere in that future…
He now existed.
Rhaenyra suddenly leaned closer to him.
"You know," she said quietly.
"You move strangely."
"How so?"
"Like a cat."
Aeryn smirked slightly.
"I like cats."
She laughed.
"I think we'll get along, cousin."
The dragon roared again in the distance.
Aeryn stared at the creature.
One day, he thought.
One day I'll ride one.
And when that day came…
The pirate.
The assassin.
And the dragon prince.
Would become something the world had never seen before.