Will respond to reviews on the next chap!

Everyone, Thank you for your reviews and comments, I always read them even if I don't respond to them. As always, please enjoy this chapter and let me know what you think.

Note: If you would like to read ahead, the next three chapters after this chapter are available on P. .^T.^R.^E.^O.^N./ Boombox117

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Early 113 AC – Elyria

He frowned as he walked, his eye searching for something…lost.

There was nothing…just greyness. Grey mist. Grey air. Grey…ocean, he realised as his feet left behind ripples as he walked.

'Where am I…?' Aegon wondered as he looked around. Why was he here…how did he get here…what was he looking for? He couldn't remember…

Aegon's head snapped towards his right, his neck feeling as if it had been on the precipice of being snapped off, as he heard a noise in that direction.

He resisted the urge to call out, hard trained instincts setting in. Wait. Observe.

The noise did not abate as he looked in that direction and he felt as if it was calling out to him…drawing him in.

He remained still, wary as he was. His instincts were murky, unable to give him the direction he needed to act one way or another. 'Stay…or go?'.

The decision was taken out of his hands as the grey mist grew thicker. It grew grey, darker, and it felt as if it was pushing against him. Aegon hesitated and took to glance behind him and only saw the same thick dark grey mist there too.

'Onwards then…' Aegon began to move towards the call reluctantly, his instincts growing murkier and murkier as the noise grew louder and louder until…

Until he heard whispers.

Whispers and groans and dull cries.

Aegon reached for his dagger but when he felt nothing he looked down, barely able to see through the grey dark mist but he saw enough…felt enough. He was weaponless…helpless and Aegon felt panic rising.

'No dagger…no blade…' He was alone. He had not Mīsaragorn, he had not any of his commanders and guards…he was alone. Vulnerable.

Aegon stopped walking yet it felt as like he was moving still. Pulled and dragged towards the whispers, whispers that grew louder, more vocal…more coherent.

"why….." was the one word that repeated throughout the haze of whispers, the word why and Aegon, pulled and dragged towards the source, gritted his teeth as he raised his hands, preparing himself to fight whatever it was that was taking him against his will but, as the dark grey mist began to abate, began to thin and loosen in front of him, Aegon could only look on with shocked horror at the sight before him.

It was a mass, no, it was a collection of masses, untold black arms that scratched and clawed on the solid sea and on over each other, arms that dripped black oily substance over each other, over the sea, and their faces…

Their faces were as black as their arms, molten faces without eyes without any teeth or ears, melting and melting yet never losing the shape that made a head.

"wwwhhhyyyyy…." They groaned in discordant harmony, echoes within echoes, mindless agony that seemed to be as harsh and as broken as shards of glass, and Aegon was pulled out of his horror as he stepped back but he found that there was no number of steps that was bringing him further away from the mass that crawled towards him.

"Whhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyy usssssssssss….." they groaned and cried with faces that were captured nightmares, and Aegon's composure broke.

"Stop…" The word was said with no more than a whisper yet it seemed to have riled up the monsters in front of him.

"SHHTTTTOOOP…" They cried with rising voice, again and again, until all he heard was a white noise that made his ears seem as if they were bleeding.

Aegon turned away from the mass, and began to hasten his steps, hastening until he was running but as he glanced back over his shoulder, he found that they were still coming closer, that he was not able to put any distance between himself and the mass of monsters…no…they were not monsters…

Aegon looked towards his front again and his breath caught in his throat as he was beset with hundreds, thousands, of people in front of him. People…no, women and children, he realised. Pale of hair, blue and purple of eyes.

They looked hateful, angry, despairing. But they looked alive.

Aegon recognised them. They were the ones that he spared.

"Why did you spare them…and not us…?" the mass from behind groaned, cried out, in untold thousands of voices.

Aegon's heart sank, and Aegon felt himself almost stumble. He looked below, and saw his feet sink into the sea. Aegon turned around and saw the black oily mass only a few feet away from him and Aegon closed his eye, the guilt that he felt consuming him.

"LOOOKK…" The mass of voice were no longer groaning, instead they were raging, furiously hateful in tone. Aegon opened his eye and he groaned with heavy guilt as he saw small fingers belonging to small hands only a feet away from his legs, hands that belonged to heads that were small, small enough that he could grab a full hold of the eyeless, teethless nothing faces with his hand.

Yet as he looked, the nothing faces began to shift as their hands clawed at his legs, shifting away from oily blackness to something lighter, greyer, and grey, until colour began to seep in those eyeless, teethless faces, colours of amber, colours of copper, and then the eyes…the eyes were formed. Brown. Black. Honey. All kinds of eyes now.

"Was it because we do not look like them….?" The raging voices were now childlike, indignant in the way only children are and Aegon felt himself shake at the voices.

The women and children behind him began to shout at him, shouting accusations and titles.

"Hypocrite!

Butcherer!

Monster!

Deceiver!

Murderer!"

Aegon did not deny any of it and the worst had yet to come, Aegon felt that in his very bones as he looked upon the faces that began to shift again…shifting to the faces of his children.

"…Would you have spared us if we looked like your sons and your daughters…?" One of the faces that looked like Solonys said as he climbed over his body an-

Aegon woke startled, his breathing heavy, his eye searching all across where he could see and, moments later, many heartbeats later, he noticed that his hand that held a dagger was outstretched and pointing the tip of the dagger in the space in front of him and Aegon, when he realised that it was nothing but a dream, dropped his arm and leaned his head against the wall, his eye remaining open as he stared at the ceiling.

The nightmares…they are getting worse. More vivid…more real.

Ever since that…experience…

It was only after a few very long moments that Aegon closed his eye, the hazy sights of oily black masses and copper-skinned faces and the sight of his children seared into the forefront of his mind.

'I'm sorry…' Aegon was on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be said to the lives that he helped end. He ended. And, as the moments passed, so did too the urge to say two words.

He knew that saying sorry meant nothing. Meaning it meant nothing. His guilt meant nothing. It changed nothing. None of it. They were victims of circumstance, one of his engineering, victims of vicious acts to end vicious practices.

Even his sparing of the women and children of the Tolosi and Elyrian nobility, as much as his subconscious poked at his hypocrisy and suggested racism, was no more than his pragmatism and guilt overlapping just enough to find another way, especially with the greatest actors – and supporters – being killed off in entirety…

And wasn't that a tragedy in its own? That he only did the barest because it was convenient…

Aegon reopened his eye slowly, and took in the sight of the room that he retired for the night for…for the last few weeks.

It was bare. Spartan. Nothing but a bed and chamber pot and flasks of water.

Aegon pulled himself up from against the wall he'd been leaning against, the wall he'd slept against, and sighed as he stretched out his body.

He put his dagger back into its sheathe and stayed still for a few moments as he eyed the spot where he'd fallen asleep.

Eying it as if it held a secret to his malaise that could be unravelled by simply staring at it.

He found no answers.

Aegon shook his head and after one more deep breath, one that was more shuddering than it was clean, he began to walk towards the doors where he could see two halos beside the doors, and, after another moment, he schooled his face and buried the guilt and the pain he felt at being the monster that he was.

Guilt and pain that felt more hollow every day that passed.

Aegon smiled a faint, well-practiced smile as he nodded to his guards who shadowed his steps as he made his towards the dining hall of this manse, nodding again and again as he walked past his men on the way.

He received his breakfast and goatmilk from Larissa, his cook that solely made his food throughout the campaign and would continue to do so. "It smells a fine meal, Larissa." Aegon praised lightly as he eyed her closely, watching as his words of praises fluttered the halo surrounding her.

He's gotten to a point where he understood a little about the halos that surrounded people. Most of his men were grey though the inner edges of the halo were lighter than the other edges. Although every person had hints of differences, and every person, depending on the situation, would have their halos act differently.

Some grew lighter, a little more vibrant, like when men preened at his praise of them, or others, like Ser Aethan, who dulled slightly in his presence.

And, at the centre of his bodies, he felt as if there something more there but he could not see any further, as if he was wearing shades of glasses that filtered out a spectrum of…something.

He had an idea of what it might be…

He guessed that when he grew to understand more of what it was that he was seeing, that he'd be able to finally see this…spectrum of energy…energy that might even be some kind of soul energy or some bullshit like that…

In any case, what he saw was sufficient enough…for now. He was able to formulate more about the nature of people with the halos themselves…halos that were very similar to the nature of that greyness in that…reality, he mused idly.

And Larissa, he thought as he eyed her, her nature was like a breath of fresh air.

Her halo was almost pristine, in comparison to the men around him. Her grey was light, very light, and the inner edges of her halo was quite white. There were a few others that he saw like her. Most of them had been children.

He understood it to mean a kind of purity…not innocence…no…but more meaning as if…as if she was…healthy. Spiritually healthy.

He was not surprised. Larissa was a kind woman. A heart of gold. Loyal to a fault.

Unburdened.

"I hope cooking it caused you no problem?" Aegon asked her and Larissa's expression twisted into a hearty smile.

"Everything went A-OK, my Prince." Larissa said with a knowing look and Aegon smiled faintly at her. "Nothing a twirl and a twist in the flower garden can't fix, my Prince." Aegon nodded smilingly at her and Larissa curtsied before she left, knowing that Aegon was satisfied with her uttering of the passphrases.

And only then did Aegon begin to eat.

The morning went quick as Aegon oversaw the last of Elyrian operation.

After they'd taken Elyria, the fleet had left to go and take the men they'd left in Tolos to Astapor, leaving a thousand Unsullied to guard Tolos, the people, the Regency Councillors and the administrators.

Once that was done, the fleet returned with larger numbers, with about every ship they had captured and had remaining some hundred and forty two ships, with about a hundred or so of them Carracks, with almost twenty of the ships having been lost in naval engagements.

Ser Lomerys and other senior officers of the army had gone in the first departure, taking with them gold and treasure, the injured men and a quarter of the army that'd taken Elyria.

A few of the ships would sail for Yunkai and Meereen and representatives of the cities, including some of the people who were native and being trained to eventually take over the responsibilities of the Regency Councils, and bring them over to Astapor to agree to a 'Thirty-Year Plan' that would help ensure the survival of Liberty Bay.

The second departure had taken half of the remaining men and about two thousand orphans without parents, the rest having been taken in by the remaining peoples of this city. Most of the orphans were young, no more than five namedays old, a combination of children that bore Valyrian and disparate peoples' features though most leaned towards the second category of heritages, who Aegon planned to be taken in by his people.

During that time, they took control of the estates on the island, including the few farms that helped feed the city. Despite the smallness of the isle of Elyria, there were still farmlands on the isle.

Not quite enough to feed the city of over a quarter a million people that it boasted during the days of Old Valyria, but enough certainly to help ensure that Elyria did not starve as it ran down its food stores.

Presently, with less than fifty thousand people in the city and less than three thousand in the small countryside, the farms – and livestock – on Elyria would be able to feed it on its own once they were fully up and running and managed more efficiently by the administrators.

Thankfully though, the food stores of the city were largely intact and the city would be able to feed off of the stores for many moons without having to rely on the farms yet.

Hopefully, within that period, Liberty Bay should be able to deepen its trade networks amongst the cities and feed the populations of the Bay, especially once Velos turned into the breadbasket he envisioned.

In any case, Aegon spent much of his day watching the ships being loaded with the remaining parts of the wealth they'd take from Elyria, the vast majority of the goods they were taking were more the statues and the texts and tomes – minus the ones that he'd stored away on Mīsaragorn – and the rest of the army.

The last of his men would sail for Astapor, a journey that was two days and two nights' sail long, excepting another thousand Unsullied who would be left behind to guard the city and its people, not that there was much that needed to be protected against within the city, given the decimation it has suffered…

Throughout all of it, Aegon was often stared at by the remaining survivors of the city, like every day. From the freedwomen, and from some of their offspring too, he was often given hidden – and unhidden – looks of loathing and fear given how he'd had their husbands and fathers and sons killed along with the nobility.

He found those looks to be more comforting than the looks of awe and gratefulness he was provided with by the former slave population and his men.

The harsher, more hateful looks felt more…honest.

In any case, he was heartened at least to see wariness and relief across both groups of people as the final hours of the departure of their people came.

He was especially glad for it to see it from some of the former slaves.

The wiser women and the wiser children.

Aegon's coming had been a blessing and a curse.

For many former slaves, the deaths of their partners – slaves lucky enough and permitted to have another half could not marry them even if they were all but married – or their brothers or fathers or sons, could be lain directly at his feet.

A hefty price to pay for freedom…

A payment that was taken rather than offered…

Aegon watched from atop Mīsaragorn as they overlooked the last of the ships sailing away from the white sandy beaches of Elyria. Aegon took to look back towards Elyria with a complicated look on his face.

Amidst his turmoil, Mīsaragorn began growl lightly, the feelings of his dragon's, impatience and curiosity all mixed together at the reasons why they haven't yet flown, flowing into Aegon's being and Aegon turned to meet Mīsaragorn's wild green eyes with a small, apologetic smile on his face.

"Introspective, brother…just feeling a little introspective." Aegon admitted as he leaned forward and patted Mīsaragorn's scales before he sat back in his saddle and sent through feelings of readiness through their bond. And Mīsaragorn, after a snort through his nose, began to unfurl his wings and began to take massive steps.

His wings, unfurled and beating, caught the air as Mīsaragorn's steps quickened towards the edge of the sea, and soon, soon they were flying over the ocean, the sounds of Mīsaragorn's wings and the sounds of his claws surfing across surface of the waters, and Aegon, during those moments, revelled in the feeling of flight, in the feeling of weightlessness, of freedom.

After a little while of flight, they flew over the isle that sat between Tolos and Elyria, an rocky, craggy isle that was only populated by sealions and seals and Mīsaragorn, after sending a feeling of hungry desire to Aegon, a desire that Aegon acquiesced to, began to fly lower and lower towards the gathering of hundreds, thousands, of sealions.

It seemed like Mīsaragorn had liked the few sealions he'd caught weeks ago…

Mīsaragorn's claws began to extend as he swept down lower, and the unfortunate sealions were unable to unnoticed until it was too late.

Mīsaragorn swept down like a vengeful angel, grasping one sealion in each claw before throwing into the air, further inland, before Mīsaragorn turned around again, the sounds of the yapping sealions reverberating in the air.

Aegon only grimaced lightly at sight the panicking animals who raced towards the safety of the ocean. Most of them would be fine and their numbers wouldn't take a severe hit but still…it was rather gruesome to see the brutality of Mīsaragorn.

Again and again did Mīsaragorn sweep down and catch sealion after sealion, only stopping when he'd thrown something like twenty two sealions further inland.

Mīsaragorn then swept towards the thrown and injured sealions who tried to make it back to the sea but they were subjected to dragonflame, burnt alive, and Mīsaragorn began to feast on these sealions whilst he kept a watchful eye on the other sealions that were mostly half-dead now as consequence of the wounds, by claw and mostly by gravity.

Aegon took our his journal, two tomes, a small dragonglass container and a dagger sheathed in lead from the storage bags before he climbed down the wing of Mīsaragorn, grimacing as he watched Mīsaragorn eat burnt flesh that dripped with blubber oil, the feelings of satisfaction only adding to the grossness of it all.

Aegon walked towards one of the barely moving sealions, a look of pity on his face. He could see their halo, light and faint as he observed most animals to have, ebbing away. Aegon took out his Valyrian steel sword from its sheathe, a weapon he long stored away on Mīsaragorn but never used, not until now.

He eyed the bastard sword closely, angling the sword as he took in the dim glow of the sword. It brimmed with an ethereal energy that was only a shade different from the halos around people.

A cousin, or mayhaps more aptly, Aegon thought darkly, an offspring of human spiritual energy…

Aegon carefully tread near the dying beast, who growled softly, pained, but did not move as Aegon circled the injured animal. It bore deep wounds, claws that had sunk deep into the bowels of the sealion with deep gashes on its back.

There was a small pool of blood beneath the sealion…

Aegon's hands gripped onto the hilt of the sword as he hovered the tip of the sword above the neck of the sealion who tried to move away from Aegon but itself unable. Aegon sighed heavily before he, with a sharp downward movement, buried the tip of the sword into the sealion's neck, killing it almost instantly.

He watched with a studying eye how the spiritual energy of the sealion faded away, like embers of a flame on a cold night, though, as he pulled out the blade from the neck of the sealion, he thought he could see some amount sink into the Valyrian steel…

Aegon did this over a dozen times, the rest having died due to their wounds already, and as he moved towards the last of the sealions, he found a sealion that had its back broken, and unable to move beyond its neck.

Its wounds were more impact than they were from claw marks and the sealion despite its life-ending injury, was fierce in its snarls, so much so that Aegon decided to let the helpless sealion live a little longer.

When Aegon found the range of the sealion's jaws, he decided to sit beside the sealion and placed his gauntleted hand on the sealions neck, an act that made the sealion jerk away slightly, teeth baring, its big black eye looking at him with fear and Aegon found himself humming gently to assuage the injured sealions fears.

"Shushh…" Aegon voiced out and the sealion was not calmed, not even the slightest but the sealion, so close to death, so helpless, could do nothing but continue to snarl at Aegon in the hopes that he'd leave.

Aegon sighed, taking away his gauntleted hand in the process, the sealion quietening down slightly, causing Aegon hum slightly, and he looked away from the sealion and looked upon Mīsaragorn who dug into his next meal with gusto.

"Voracious…" Aegon murmured, a small shake of the head in exasperation and he heard Mīsaragorn growl at his feeling of exasperation and Aegon snorted at the irritation Mīsaragorn felt towards Aegon.

Aegon went silent as he watched Mīsaragorn eat, though he was more focused on Mīsaragorn himself instead of the disgusting act of Mīsaragorn voracious eating.

Mīsaragorn, in comparison to the sealions, was like a star with the way his halo seemed to encompass him. Where most peoples had halos surrounding their body, Mīsaragorn was more like a furnace, bright and mighty with magic…energy.

It was not quite natural, Aegon mused.

The way Mīsaragorn shone with so much energy.

Perhaps it was more that Mīsaragorn was a representation of something…of a concept, or a compilation of truly grizzly manipulation of spiritual energy to give birth to the dragons, or perhaps they formed as a consequence of belief…or, mayhaps, a creation made of sacrifice in the belief that they would come to exist…

He considered that his theorising could be deeply flawed. Based on limited information, based on ideas that he still did not quite understand…possibly would never understand.

After all… Mīsaragorn was the only example of such brilliance.

Well…not quite, Aegon mused as he stared at his Valyrian steel sword which seemed to be impregnated with spiritual energy. It was like comparing apples to oranges but…

They were of the same family of foodstuff.

Aegon's eye veered towards the dagger in lead sheathe, his expression growing darker. Just as that thing was. Just like one of the tomes and the seed he was chained to…

Aegon placed the dagger in lead sheathe on the ground between his feet, and then he did the same with the journal and the two tomes until he was left with the dragonglass container in his hands.

He twisted the top and the bottom in opposite directions until he saw the seed that was stored in the container, the very sight of it darkening Aegon's expression.

The seed, the weirwood seed, was a thing that was mired in an ethereal red glow. Aegon, with a deep exhale of air through his nose, looked upon the seed with all of his concentration, with all of his new found sensitivity to spiritual energy, and he smiled grimly as he felt something from the seed.

He couldn't quite explain it, what he felt. It felt almost like a dragonbond but one that he was observing from the outside in, instead of feeling it innately like he did with his bond with Mīsaragorn.

This thing too, was similar to Mīsaragorn. Unnatural, compared to humans.

The same ilk of energy that impregnated the Valyrian steel bastard sword.

So, the question was, how did it all fit together?

He guessed at the basics of Valyrian Steel – how it was made – and he understood how weirwoods existed – through the sacrifice of lifeforce, spiritual energy, and even souls – but how did it all tie in to the system on which the world worked?

Aegon closed the dragonglass container, and gripped it tightly into his hand.

How did it tie into that realm that he experienced?

A realm of spiritual energy? Or was it more? Like some kind of demented astral bullshit plane?

What were those lances? Some of which resembled the ethereal glow of the seed?

What effect did that plane of existence have on the physical world?

What were those dark things that hunted him?

Aegon watched Mīsaragorn eat another burnt sealion corpse with absence of mind.

What were those gemstones? Were they what he thought they were?

The souls of the gemstone emperors? The origins of perhaps the ancestral songs?

The progenitors – the satisfaction of being proven right that his interest about the gemstone emperors was not fruitless was not quite fulfilling – of humanity in this reality, in this world?

What were those alternate existences that he experienced?

Alternate existences that he has come to understand to be those that he'd wished, once upon a time, he'd taken, routes that had been available to him at one point or another in time…

How did it all fit together?

Aegon looked away from Mīsaragorn and turned to look at the dagger sheathed in lead and his hand moved towards it. He picked it up. He'd had one of the blacksmiths fashioned the sheathe out of the lead balls the slingers Tolos had.

He removed the dagger from the sheathe and immediately his expression took on a reviled look. Disgust and anger bloomed within as he gazed upon the dagger impregnated with foulness and decay.

It was the dagger he'd used to kill that creature that eventful eve.

Aegon eyed the sheathe, and saw that the insides of the sheathe were slowly being corrupted. He sheathed the dagger again, the foulness and decay immediately ebbing away.

It was a short term solution, he mused to himself. Lead seemed to be a good means to guard against the worst effects of corrupted magicks…of spiritual energy.

And that was what that thing was…a corrupted entity the likes that had no place in the physical…and most likely in that plane of existence as well.

This Valyrian steel dagger seems to have absorbed some of the corrupted entity into itself…it was startling how it resembled the famous tale of Nissa Nissa and Azor Ahai, whose sacrifice had allowed the creation of Lightbringer…

Aegon looked on with a grim expression as he eyed the sheathed dagger.

Could it be that Valyrian Steel took in souls, or at the very least spiritual energy of a being, or beings, in some way or another, to create what is known as Valyrian Steel?

He shook his head as he looked away from the sheathed dagger.

'Must I experiment to learn the truth of it? To learn what it takes to create Valyrian Steel?' Aegon thought to himself with troubled thoughts. Aegon knew he couldn't attempt human sacrifice in order to create Valyrian Steel. It was a final breach…

No…

He would have to be satisfied with a different route, Aegon thought as he took to look towards the corrupted Valyrian Steel dagger.

And Aegon thought that he could find a means to achieve it if he only understood what that realm was…what this world was.

So…

The question then becomes…how does it all work?

Magic, spiritual energy, all of it?

And why did those entities exist?

Aegon did not fail to notice that perhaps…perhaps the so-called gods of this world were things that belonged to that realm but had an effect on this world, this physical realm.

Similarly, the thought also passed through his mind that the physical world could have an impact on that realm. Like some kind of symbiosis…

Where spiritual energy of the physical world could be manipulated to bring about an effect on the physical world through the aid of that plane of existence where things were more…abstract…more…something, Aegon thought with a sigh.

The alternate existences that he saw…

A sea of possibilities, of roads not taken, of chances ignored…

Was that what was at the core of that reality?

A sea of possibility?

A sea of spiritual energy that was raw, that was absolute, that was a tap of power that could be used, that all sorcerers, sorceresses, that the Children of the Forest and all other kinds of beings, entities, used to cause effect in this physical world?

When sacrifices were committed, using the fuel of souls, of spiritual energy, was it that fuel that brought about the effect on the physical world, or was the fuel used to pull out some effect from that sea of possibility onto the physical world?

Like some kind of drill that punctured through the wall of realities…?

Was his pyromancy his own, or was it an outcome that belonged to his ancestral song that was connected to the gemstone emperors? A connection that permanently connected him to that reality in some form or another?

The same for the First Men and the Children of the Forest?

The same for the Rhoynar?

He had so many questions…and so few means to get answers, Aegon mused to himself silently, his eyes falling onto the two tomes.

And it wasn't like he could gain answers from others. Not from the living…

He'd sooner be killed than such knowledge being shared with him.

He was also rather sure as well that the knowledge he sought was not exactly known to the most capable of 'magic' users. Otherwise…otherwise he was rather sure the world would be ruled by immortal sorcerers like the gemstone emperors…

Still, if only he could learn other disciplines of 'magic'…if only to learn more about the ways 'magic' could be manipulated, and thus learn more about the nature of 'magic' beyond the solidified theory that it came from the soul…

'With the mind perhaps keystone like the soul…' Aegon mused to himself.

Lessela, despite having convinced her that the creature that attacked him was an agent of the Great Other – not that difficult to do given how foul the creature had been and it would have been unconscionable for her to think her God could have attacked him with such evil – who was threatened by his searching of their location, was not so forthcoming with what she knew about 'magic'.

Not anymore, at least.

He did not fail to notice the way she stared at him. Like he was…different.

Aegon hummed as he looked away from the tomes, turning towards Mīsaragorn.

He is different. He felt it deeply. He thought that he likely lost some years of life when his body healed but it was more than just physical wounds scarring over.

That creature…it damaged him. His Being. Mīsaragorn's flames did something to him too…healing the wounds that had been on him beyond the flesh. The bond he shared with Mīsaragorn was deeper too.

Where before their bond was like a connection that either of them could turn off, now…now that connection was permanent, deeper and more intelligible.

He could now see through Mīsaragorn's eyes, instead of seeing images transmitted through the bond, resembling a kind of skinchanging ability that went deeper…

It was ironic…instead of being two halves, he felt it was more like they were more like two knitted pieces of souls…

Aegon raised his gauntleted hand, and, with a mere thought, Aegon created a small vesper of fire in the centre of his palm.

He no longer had to use fire that already existed to be able to manipulate it without any cost to him. Guiding what existed through understanding of the concept of fire had been his way to get around cost.

Doing this, creating fire, was without cost, now.

This fire, this fire was a creation of his own being, connected to him at a fundamental level. Yet, as he peered at the fire, at the most shallowest parts of the inner flame, he could see that it was not so isolated, not so only connected to him.

Likely, Aegon assessed, it was also connected to that astral plane…to that realm.

Like Lessela's soul-touched fire had been, if only to a lesser extent.

Why he could do this without cost…he was not sure.

A combination of things, maybe, or it was a singular thing, such as his change brought about by Mīsaragorn or it could be that he had his mind and soul opened up to the spiritual plane…

Aegon lost his concentration when the sealion beside him began to snarl again, the vesper of fire dying out, and Aegon closed his fist, deep in his thoughts.

Was that how those creatures in that realm influenced the physical world?

Was that how the likes of R'hllor influenced the physical world?

By being connected to the beliefs and intents of those gifted with 'magic' and summarily influence them to act on their behalf through power bestowed?

It could be that the reason why faiths like the Red Faith – or the House of Black and White – were so 'powerful' was because these faiths 'remembered' how to commune with entities like the Red God…or the God of Many Faces…

And through this communion…was that how their proverbial Eye was opened?

How their powers were gained?

Aegon wondered if he was being influenced as of right now, or when he used his pyromancy…

Or mayhaps it was the other way around…that power came to those gifted with manipulatable spiritual energy first and only then came into contact with 'gods'…

What came first? Were these so-called gods the ones who sought out a connection to people or was it people who sought out a connection to these gods?

Aegon ruminated on his thoughts for a long moment.

'How close am I…?' Aegon wondered as he stared at his fist. 'With any of my questions and theories…?' His instincts suggested that he was far, far from close.

"But…but I am closer than I've ever been before…" Aegon murmured to himself.

Not that it helped all that much, now that he knew how…out of his depth he was.

How blind he was.

He needed…he needed to know more…to learn more. He knew that trying that journey again would kill him. He did not think the gemstone emperors would be so gracious to save his very soul again, Aegon thought with a grim smile.

It was a shame that he doubted he'd learn more about the gemstone emperors.

Or why they decided to help him – if they helped him which seemed certain…

He'd have to go East, he thought to himself, where more legends of the emperors would be known. He couldn't do that to Gael or their children however…

He'd have to settle by learning through the sources available to him and hope that he could glean greater understanding through contemplation…through theory…

He leaned forward and took hold of the older looking tome. He flicked through the pages of the tome, a tome that provided all kinds of recipes, for a lack of a better word, for the utilisation of blood magic.

It was an invaluable find, Aegon thought to himself, as he perused the gruesome means available to empower or heal the individual…and curse enemies with unsolvable ails.

Practicing some of this would help him on his way, especially if he could see the effect of the magic. That was the first step in finding alternative ways to use blood magic…or any other kinds of darker sacrificial magicks.

He may even find a way to recreate Valyrian Steel through without any kind of human sacrifice, a quest that may well be impossible…

Yet, Aegon thought as he set the old tome aside and picked up the other tome, a leather-skinned tome, he felt it instinctively that this tome, would provide him with far greater answers than the blood magic tome could.

Amongst the texts and tomes the scholars had taken that hinted at magic, the blood magic tome included, this one had drawn Aegon's attentions immediately. It sang with the same spiritual energy as the seed did, even if it was greatly diminished in comparison.

Aegon opened the nameless tome and he gazed upon the symbols that were dimly aglow with energy…with power. It was runes…or something like that.

It was a tome filled with only symbols…with runes, nothing else.

He did not understand yet…yet he could perceive almost something from the runes. It was a secret language that lay just beyond Aegon's grasp to understand.

He was not sure if he needed to know more about the nature of 'magic' in order for him to understand the language or if it was more…conventional, where he had to know the language in order to understand.

It could be combination of both.

"What secrets do you hold…?" Aegon mused out loud with a grave look.

The runes were unlike First Men Runes. These were more gentler, if that made sense. Where First Men Runes reminded him of Norse Runes he'd seen in fiction, sharp lines combining to form into symbols, these runes were more…rounded.

Ovals and circles and half-sphere like symbols, some of them even resembling symbols he knew from his past life, like ouroboros, a symbol of infinity, and Aegon thought that these runes had fundamental understanding that could answer so many of his questions if only through indirect means.

He could understand how the people of these runes – he could not be certain they were Valyrian as they seemed too alien in comparison to the Valyrian language – perceived the world and in that perception, he could come to understand more about the world itself.

"I will have to visit the Rhoynar of the Isle of Women again." Aegon mused to himself as he closed the tome and looked towards Mīsaragorn.

The Rhoynar, even if they knew almost nothing about their ancestry and their 'magic', were more than likely descended from 'magical bloodlines'.

At least some…or likely all of them given how…shallow the gene pool has been.

If he was able to figure out how to 'unlock' this 'magical sight' of his in his children, without having them visit that hellscape of a reality, he would also be able to do that for the Rhoynar…and others.

He already could tell some differences between people if only barely. Ser Raevor, a Dragonstone native, was undoubtedly a dragonseed like Ser Galaenys.

The thing that lay just beyond his perception at their centre of being was more pronounced in the likes of them than for example Ser Uthrik or the other knights of Andal heritage. Similarly, the few Unsullied that had golden eyes had something about them too.

He took it to mean that it might be related to their ancestral song which could be more pronounced in these people…

And, Aegon thought to himself, he might be able to glean if the Rhoynar of the Isle of Women also had something about them too.

If the Naathi orphans similarly had amongst them those who had something about them, his mission to the Isle of Women would only grow in importance.

Whether Aegon should or not, he wasn't quite sure. He'd be literally empowering other people…but…

The question was…was it more dangerous not to do that?

When the threats that existed in that plane of existence were so…real?

So…near?

Aegon placed the tome on the ground and he gripped his hands together, his muscles straining as the stress of the memories of the time he was in that…hellscape was brought to the forefront of his mind.

The Great Other…the White Walkers…

R'hllor and the Old Gods…

How many of them were really beneficial for humanity?

The Old Gods may seem benign but he seriously doubted that, especially if the Old Gods were nothing more than the souls in the weirwoods.

The Children of the Forest were more like humans than they were not. He remembered the encounter well enough, that day on the Isle of Faces.

The expressions of that being…

They felt anger. They felt despair. The very stories spoke of how they acted when they were pressured. The destruction of the arm of Dorne…the creation of the white walkers…

So very destructive…so very human…

To allow those creatures to influence human civilisation – Aegon did not miss at all how they made sure to tie his Elamaerys to themselves – physically, or through influence through 'magic', was beyond folly and beyond sanity.

"Be grateful your Song is not one of ours." The words of that Child of the Forest rang in his mind…

'Your Song…' the phrase played in his mind again and again and again.

Another part that had stuck in his mind was the comment 'Not one of ours…'

His song…his ancestral song…was not one of theirs…not one of theirs to influence…to take. It implied as if other songs were theirs to take…to influence.

Likely, Aegon thought with a dark look, the songs of the First Men.

'A song of Ice and Fire…' Jon Snow…the song of duality. Brynden Rivers, another song of duality, and, if he remembered the commentary he'd read about Daenerys correctly, she too had Blackwood blood in her veins, another song of duality.

All of them falling in the Children of the Forest's realm of influence if he was to take their ownership of Songs literal and he had no reason not to do that.

He was sure that the Children of the Forest, the Old Gods, could sense that Aegon was not of this world and had thought that it was the sole reason why they had not acted against him, that Aegon was protected from them by whomever – or whatever – had brought him here, into this world.

Especially since if they foresaw of Elamaerys – Aegon the First – then they'd also know that Aegon saw them in a negative light and to let an enemy like Aegon live, especially to live long enough into adulthood…

But mayhaps there was more to it, more than just a some strange – and cheap –'divine' protection against the little tree fiends. Mayhaps there was something about his Song that prevented their influence…

Aegon grimly smiled to himself as he looked into the distance, once more chastising himself having gotten himself into this mess.

In his desperation, he freely agreed to their terms, terms that looked increasingly dangerous, terms that he still found no way out from without penalty to himself or his family…

Yes, Aegon firmed up, his eye hardening.

The Old Gods were no friends to him or to House Targaryen.

Likely, Aegon thought, Old Gods were no friends to any humans.

They had their own agenda…their own means of securing power and influence.

The Three-Eyed-Raven was likely the means of theirs, Aegon thought as he remembered 'Bran the Broken' becoming King, another Garth Greenhand almost.

And that thinking could be applied to any of those gods.

Aegon rolled his jaw as he thought it over.

"A matter for another time…" Aegon murmured to himself. For now, he could do little to shore up human civilisation against the influences of these things.

First, he'd have to be able to understand what it all meant before he decided anything else.

He only hoped that he'd have the opportunity to do so…

For now, he had to focus on the material side of things…

Aegon picked up his journal. "On matters war and peace…" Aegon said with a sigh as he looked grimly to his journal.

He flicked through his journal which was written in Greek. It contained everything.

From his initial plans to the deviations and observations during the campaign, the subsequent consequences of that deviation, plans that had to be abandoned or reworked.

The actors – influential peoples such as stripped nobility or freedmen or gladiators – that remained, actors that left behind holes that would be filled by new ambitious nameless and faceless peoples, – who may or may not be in training with the Regency Councillors and administrators – interested external parties, – Braavos, Lys, the Summer Isles, Qarth, New Ghis – who would seek to influence Liberty Bay, factors of uncertainty that had to be considered – pissed off family members, opportunists, traitors – and, of course, assassins.

He had not faced any assassins, at least not assassins from any Assassin Order, yet but he expected upon his return – or even during his Disputed Lands campaign – that he'd face assassins throughout the remaining time in Essos.

And perhaps even in Westeros as well…

He only hoped that he wouldn't be targeted by the Faceless Men…that was not a challenge he wanted to need to overcome…nor did he want to do what he would be forced to do if he is targeted by the Faceless Men…

He didn't think his relationship with Braavos would survive his reprisal…

All of these observations and interests had coalesced into a kind of report that he kept updated at all times, so that he could 'game' where the attacks or negative impacts could come from…

And it would matter greatly in the next phases of securing Liberty Bay, and, of course, in his success in the Disputed Lands.

The end of the war of liberation in Liberty Bay was only the start of things.

He eyed his journal as he flicked through the pages as he reached the end of the filled pages. He could see clearly that his years of planning and plotting was going to be, more or less, incredibly less useful.

It wasn't 'clean', the ways in which attacks and impacts could come from.

Especially with the deviation in the Lys Plot.

How will Volantis act now that, most likely, Tyrosh and Lys were turning against slavery? How will they react when he lands in the Disputed Lands and tears up the place before he moved onto Myr?

What about the connections the Red Faith have with Saera's get? What angle would they attack, if they were to attack? Assassins? Turning one of his people?

How will his brothers react to his campaign in the Disputed Lands? Will he have to face Daemon? Could he manipulate Daemon into working into Aegon's favour?

When will the Dothraki attack? And how large will their scale of attack be?

Will he be able to threaten them into leaving Liberty Bay alone with any kind of effect through hunting and killing one of the khalasars or will he have go further to make them understand that the dragon protects Liberty Bay? At least for a time that allows Liberty Bay to grow capable of defending itself?

What other ways would enemies come to attack Aegon and his people? What about the ships that escaped his navy?

What about New Ghis? Will they remain quiet? Or will they attack in some way?

What about Qarth?

What about the Summer Isles? Will they be able to be convinced into aiding him, especially with his plants to have them help ferry the slaves of the Disputed Lands to Velos or Astapor?

Or would Sodhabhas prove himself a hindrance and poison the ears of the Summer Islanders and turn them against Aegon?

Are his ranks closed – and protected enough – to be able to fight off assassins?

Were his means to avoid assassination attempts good enough?

These kinds of questions had to be provided detailed and sufficient answers for.

The most irritating part of it was that he had little intel in most of these places and had to rely more on intuition and human behaviour based on past evidence and all of that would only get him so far…

In any case, most of the scenarios he had rough plans for, even if reworked and changed and open to change.

Such as the Volantis Question.

He reworked things and would send Lessela to act as one of his 'emissaries' to the Old Blood, which she already agreed to – no doubt in order to speak to her fellow priests about him – giving some amount of protection to his men on top of the protection of the threat Aegon posed should they kill his emissaries, an irony that didn't escape Aegon.

He might not learn their plans, but they would come to learn that he had no qualms with them and perhaps the dangling of a treaty of non-aggression could reassure and entice them into staying out of the affairs of Liberty Bay…and that of Lys.

It wouldn't necessarily stop any underhanded means to kill him, namely assassination, but it could help stop him from being mired into another war that would suck him in Essos for longer than he wanted…

Either way, he'd gain an understanding of how to address the Volantis problem.

The others were more…flexible in terms of his plans. Most of his plans were reactionary now.

It was the only way he could reasonably operate. Perhaps he could knock out New Ghis and mayhaps Qarth but presently…that was more trouble than it was worth.

Most of the problems were related to Aegon himself or to Liberty Bay, naturally.

For now, Aegon could do little to secure himself and his army against his enemies – most of them were almost certainly unknown to him, at least at an individual level – but Liberty Bay…?

The second step was most crucial in determining whether or not Liberty Bay would survive on its own once Aegon departed from the Bay should their neighbours prove to be more…skilled in hiding their hatred of Liberty Bay.

The second step largely involved in fostering an unbreakable alliance between the cities, which, of course, would have to be done piecemeal.

And one of those pieces, beyond of course the act of liberating them and stabilising the cities with proper leadership, would be setting up the Thirty-Year Plan.

A plan that would involve a great deal of work, both physically and administratively.

Fortresses and great walls of concrete and stone would have to be created over the next few decades to close off Liberty Bay from the Dothraki.

He'd already started, a little, by the collapsing of the mountain pass where Valyrian Roads led from Mantarys and into the mountains north of Tolos where the road would had split to lead to Tolos and to the rest of the Liberty Bay through the Demon Road.

Now, that pass was collapsed and no easy access could be gain through the mountains.

The rest, the Regency Councils – and their proteges – would have to come to an agreement with.

His men, the army and the supporting people, would help in organising at least the beginnings of such work…and of course the training of native armies.

'It will help' Aegon mused to himself wearily, if his people could take the year or so they'd remain in Astapor and be helpful in the organisation of the building works and the training of the armies of Liberty Bay.

They would see more in their involvement of how impactful they have been in destroying the slavery system of Liberty Bay…

It would help heal them mentally, Aegon thought to himself. Perhaps he even could encourage his men to introduce Corinthos games. Aegon snorted a little at himself.

'It could even be the beginnings of an international Olympic-like tournament…'

His navy and shipbuilders would also help in getting the shipbuilding industry up and running whilst also patrolling Slaver's Bay and simultaneously taking people to and from cities and ensuring that information flowed to Astapor, to his people.

Velos too would have significant influence from his people. He'd flown a few times over Velos, noting that the island is more than suitable enough to be colonised. There were only a few people there, no more than perhaps a few thousand, which was honestly insane considering how incredible the island was.

He planned for it to become a veritable breadbasket for Liberty Bay along with it being the centre of all shipbuilding with all of its forests there and most of the slaves that they'd free from the Disputed Lands would be relocated there.

Hopefully.

The Regency Council would be convinced to assist in the matter, especially once he lets them – and the newly influential people, as there was always new influential people – know that land was for sale on this island that was free from any Dothraki and most likely threats from overseas.

It wouldn't take long, he mused to himself, for Velos as a whole, to become a hub much like Driftmark or Kings Landing were.

And the Regency Councillors would see that too.

But first, they'd have to make sure the other cities were protected.

It helped of course that there was a surplus of men that needed employment.

With millions of gold coins still in the treasury in each of the three main cities, they could afford the wages for the next three decades.

Plus, Aegon mused, Elamaerys would have need of many goods from Liberty Bay, particularly produced goods like linen, iron tools and so on. Goods that'd take time for Elamaerys to be able to produce again.

He wouldn't allow Elmaerys to have to pay a premium but there were means available to him to prop up the economies of the Liberty Bay cities.

Plus, he thought to himself, the Rogare Bank and Braavos had roles to play in getting Liberty Bay integrated into the economy of the Known World.

Mayhaps even Dorne could be enticed in this little game.

Even if his relationship with them was no more than coin and goods, the Dornish no doubt knew that the game was changing and no doubt must be thinking that this might be an opportunity to be more involved.

Nevertheless, the second step was critical in bolstering Liberty Bay's ability to survive. The third and fourth steps were only means to enhance the progress made in the second step, those being increasing their influence across Essos and slowly drive out the practice of slavery, starting with Mantarys.

All of that though, would be beyond his lifetime and would have to be work that is carried on by his grandsons and beyond.

His grandsons, if his long term plans worked, would help encourage that idealism, the idealism of Liberty Is a Fundamental Right, in the peoples of Liberty Bay, getting those people to take on some amount of ownership in killing slavery as a whole.

"Long term plans that I cannot affect presently…"

Aegon reminded himself again, reminding himself as well that he needed to create another journal with his long term ideas and hopes so that he can have the journal shipped to his sons in case the worst was to happen…

The journals that he had left with Gael, the ones with all of his ideas, did not include some of his newer ideas…

Ideas such as enforcing a claim to Old Valyria with a long term view to colonise it, once, hopefully, understanding and application of 'magic' has grown deep enough to heal the Land of the Long Summer…

Aegon looked upon his journal once more, towards the pages that detailed his plans in the Disputed Lands, which included a small map with key locations, including the port town they'd take and launch from.

He would take all of the butcher-men and Ser Trytas with him and a few more of the deeply loyal and reverent ones but the bulk of the army would be Unsullied and the Astapori, Yunkai'i and Meereenese forces.

He didn't trust the butcher-men to be out of his sight so they could only come with him. His paranoia and lack of trust would wound many of them, even turn some against him but fortunately they'd see this as nothing more than an honour.

Aegon spent the rest of the time going over his plans with obsessive detail, the routes in which their assault would take, estate to estate, village to town and town to village, until finally, he stopped when he heard Mīsaragorn approaching.

When Mīsaragorn was only a few hundred paces away, did Aegon close his journal. He placed the journal in the inside of his armour before he stood up. The sealion reacted to his movement – it was unable to see Mīsaragorn – though it mostly looked at him with its large black eyes.

Aegon unsheathed his sword and met the sealion's gaze and for a moment Aegon thought he was being judged by the animal. Aegon grimaced before he ended the life of the sealion with as little as pain suffered, watching as the lifeforce of the sealion faded into nothingness.

Aegon turned towards Mīsaragorn with an impressed look as he felt more desire bloom in his dragon. "Really? You're still hungry?" Aegon asked out loud, so great was his disbelief that he had to raise his question out load.

Mīsaragorn turned his great green eyes towards Aegon and puffed smoke through his nostrils before Mīsaragorn looked away from Aegon in a way that looked to be dismissive and Aegon made a noise at the back of his throat in exasperated amusement as he leaned down and picked up the dagger, the tome and the dragonglass container before he quickly moved away, unwilling as he was for his stuff to be burnt.

Mīsaragorn set to torch the poor corpse of the sealion and Aegon watched with pained grimace as Mīsaragorn tore into the beast. This was in excess of what Mīsaragorn usually ate…way in excess.

Usually, a single cow was enough to last him almost a week when active. Today, Mīsaragorn ate enough to last him weeks though it didn't quite work like that…

Unfortunately.

Mīsaragorn tore off a bit of the sealion and turned towards Aegon and dropped a piece of meat in front of Aegon and made noises with his nostrils – and through the bond – that indicated that Aegon should eat.

"I might have felt more appreciative if it had been the first sealion you were eating." Aegon said a little dryly and he walked closer to Mīsaragorn's snout, having noticed something off with Mīsaragorn's teeth.

"Open up." Aegon said as he tapped on Mīsaragorn's lips and Mīsaragorn exposed his rows of sword like teeth. Aegon narrowed his eyes as he saw pieces of blackened bones stuck in the rows of his teeth. They looked well stuck in there…

Aegon leaned back and met Mīsaragorn's eyes, suspicion filling him. "So you come bearing gifts in return for a favour, eh?" Aegon said with a raised eyebrow and his reward was hot air blown in his face.

Aegon snorted as he shook his head. Mīsaragorn could burn out the bones from his teeth but it would cause him discomfort. He always preferred that Aegon used his hands to pull out the bones from between his teeth. Spoiled lizard…

Aegon pulled the jagged blackened bones, most of them ribs, and Mīsaragorn continued to eat the rest of the sealion. Aegon decided to eat the bread, cheese and cooked ham that he'd stored away on top of Mīsaragorn rather than some blubber.

By the time sunset came, Mīsaragorn crashed against the craggy earth, much to Aegon's amusement. Aegon leaned against the belly of Mīsaragorn, underneath Mīsaragorn's wings, a small fire dancing between his hands.

He turned to look towards where Mīsaragorn's head was.

He wondered at times how much he was humanising Mīsaragorn – he could never call Mīsaragorn a dog although 'good boy' was not off the table… – but most times, he rarely understood Mīsaragorn as anything other than a being with human-like intelligence with human-like emotions, if only a lot more primal…

He looked back at the flames in his hand and made it dance to all kinds of shapes.

Finally, when the last rays of the sun touched upon the world, did Aegon let the flames die out. He leaned his head back against the belly of Mīsaragorn, which rose and fell again and again, and closed his eye, falling asleep against the rhythm of his companion.

That night…

He slept more easily than most other nights.

-Break-

Early 113 AC – Astapor

Vaemond Velaryon POV

"Why are you building such a statue?" Lord Crispian Celtigar finally asked Zernik, one of the so-called Regency Councillors after a long silence. Vaemond kept his temper down as he watched a piece of bronze cast, weighing as much as five men Vaemond had no doubt, be heaved up by men on top of scaffolding.

'What was the damn point of this posturing?' Vaemond seethed silently to himself.

He knew that Zernik, the jumped-up slaveborn, was doing this on purpose, dragging them across the damn city and letting them hang in the moment until he finally deigned to answer their damn questions!

Damn slaveborn bastard, Vaemond thought to himself with terrible seething.

Eight days they'd been in this accursed city and it took eight damn days for the Regency Council to even meet them, let alone answer their demands for a meeting.

Aegon's people holed up in that accursed pyramid denied to even speak with them, only referring them to go to the Regency Council on matters of 'diplomacy' in Aegon's absence! The gall of these jumped-up bastards!

That was when they turned to the Regency Council who they believed would give them some answers of when Prince Aegon was meant to be back so that they could finally deliver the damn summon and be done with it!

And it took eight days to meet with one of the jumped-up slaveborn!

Eight days!

Vaemond clenched his teeth silently. They couldn't even leave. Guests the damned slaveborn called them but in reality…in reality they were kept imprisoned!

The gall!

They couldn't make too much of a problem, only share their 'indignation' given that they were accursedly blatant with their silent threats with how many Unsullied followed every single of their damn steps!

It was why they silently 'agreed' to come with Zernik when he'd 'asked' them to come with the slaveborn to a building site…this building site.

'Get to the damn point of this charade' Vaemond thought with a clenched teeth and Vaemond had to fight to keep his temper down. For all he knew Zernik wanted them to break and show themselves in a poor light when Prince Aegon came.

Bastards…

"We felt inspired." Zernik said with an easy smile as he looked to Lord Celtigar.

"Prince Aegon once said that we should commemorate the newfound liberty of Astapor with a statue that reminded every coming generation of the promise this generation gave. The people of the city agreed to have such an commemoration." Zernik said as he looked towards the statue.

Vaemond stared with hidden contempt at the man for a moment longer before he looked towards the structure, a grudging lessening of his contempt building within.

For all of the slaveborn's foulness, he had to admit…once it was finished…

If it was finished…

He watched as the piece of bronze cast was now halfway up with men moving into position to pull the cast towards the ankle. An ankle that was taller than four men stacked on top of each other.

By the time this thing was finished, only the Titan of Braavos would be taller.

Vaemond eyed the people around them, people of this city, most of them keenly watching and talking about the statue. When they walked towards this building site, Zernik had said that at this time of day, in the eve, the crowd was as its most thinnest with the largest of crowds during the hours of the dawn.

"Promise?" Vaemond couldn't help but ask as he begrudgingly watched on with some amount of respect, more so of how tall the thing will be when it is finished.

He wondered if it would take as long as the Titan of Braavos took.

He doubted it would take that long though who knows with how limited these slaveborn were in all matters. In any case, the slaveborn would do well to even capture a tenth of the magnificence of the Titan of Braavos, a monstrously impressive thing built in the most inconvenient of locations.

Worth it, of course. There were few things like the Titan that could elicit awe.

Only dragons truly did in Vaemond's experience.

"A promise that Astapor, like every other city in Liberty Bay, would hold out the flames of liberty until the days of a never-ending dawn has come." Zernik said in answer with a smile.

Vaemond wanted to snort but he kept his reaction stifled as he looked back towards the statue. It was fortunate these lands were rich in copper and tin, he mused disdainfully as he guessed at the amount of bronze were needed to finish this thing.

"It is why the statue is called 'Lady Astar, Holder of the Flame of Liberty'" Zernik said before adding. "The other cities will also have a Lady of their own."

"I'm surprised you did not build it in the image of Prince Aegon." Daemion commented and Vaemond looked at his son with some amount of scrutiny before he looked towards Zernik.

Zernik smiled at his son as he answered. "Prince Aegon specifically wished that we do not make a statue in his image, instead asking that we build a statue of a crowned woman with a torch in hand."

"Curious." Lord Celtigar only said and Vaemond exchanged looks with Lord Celtigar and he understood what the meaning was.

"Quite." Zernik agreed and Vaemond looked at the man who seemed to have been studying them both with the way his eyes dashed from one to the other.

Zernik's smile took on an amused glint.

"Some say that the statues are a tribute to the Princess Gael, that he was crowning the liberation of the Bay in her honour." Vaemond narrowed his eyes slightly, wondering if Zernik was poking deliberately at something he was not meant to, but if Zernik noticed his reaction, it didn't look it with the way he continued.

"Others say that the Unsullied described to the Prince the image of the Goddess they pray to and that the Prince was so moved that he decided to honour them in making the Goddess the representation of liberty, a Goddess who cherished and cherishes the Unsullied throughout the darkest of times. Many like this interpretation." Zernik said with a sobering tone of voice.

"What do you think?" Lord Celtigar asked for a long moment of silence. "What do you think it means? For Prince Aegon?"

Zernik surprised by chuckling lightly. "I do not know." Vaemond was surprised, again, to feel as if Zernik was being honest. Zernik continued. "All I know that Prince Aegon does little without several meanings behind his acts."

Vaemond narrowed his eyes at that. 'Fanatic…' he thought with a scoff.

"You seem to hold the Prince in good favour" Lord Celtigar commented with a keen eye. 'Like the rest of these fanatics' Vaemond wanted to bite out but he kept his tongue.

Vaemond eyed the rest of the crowd.

It was not hard to understand that these people revered Aegon. He didn't need the reports of the sailors to understand that. He could see it enough in their accusing eyes once news spread that they were here for Aegon on the behalf of His Grace.

They owed their near worthless lives to Aegon after all.

Still, Vaemond mused.

It was disturbing to see how much Aegon mattered to these folk. One of the sailors even brought back word that many even believed Aegon to be a prophet!

It would be laughable if it wasn't so damn disturbing, if it wasn't so mad!

Truthfully, Vaemond wanted to deliver the summons to Aegon and be done with it.

Done with this city, done with this accursed region.

Part of it because of all of this madness and the wariness he felt towards what kind of man Aegon was now but also because it was clear he was not going to get anywhere near these galleons to learn their secrets…he thought with bitter anger.

"I have lived in Corinth, you know." Zernik responded, pulling Vaemond out of his bitter thoughts. Vaemond almost forgot the non-answer in his surprise at seeing such a serious expression on Zernik's face.

"I lived there for years before the liberation began. They bought my freedom on a seeming whim and simply had me learn from their scholars. From governance to the rule of law to politics and intrigue." Zernik met Lord Celtigar's eyes.

"I never knew why. Why I was chosen. Why I was being taught all of the things that I was being taught. All I knew was that Prince Aegon had plans for me." Zernik said with an amused smile dancing at the corners of his lips as he waved his hand towards the statue…towards the city.

"All of this took years in the making, Lords of Westeros. Years of planning." Zernik turned to meet Lord Celtigar's eyes, then that of Daemion's and then, finally, Vaemond's own. And Vaemond was understanding where he was going with this.

"I know why you are here. You made no secret of it, of course. But know that you do not know Prince Aegon." Zernik turned serious as his eyes flickered between the lot of them. "Forget that he is a younger brother to your King and think only of him as you would a man with his achievements lest you find yourself…made unwelcome."

Vaemond's expression tightened. The warning was clear.

'Do not think your king can protect you from him'

So this acquiescence to their meeting request was nothing more than posturing and sending a warning. The nerve of this slaveborn…

"Prince Aegon will be back within the fortnight, I suspect." Zernik continued as he placed his arms behind his back. "His ships have been seen travelling from Velos by the Summer Islanders. You will soon have your chance to meet with him."

"You have our thanks." Lord Celtigar said diplomatically and after an exchange of looks between himself and the Lord of Claw Isle, they to decided to depart, although, before they left, Lord Celtigar had one more thing to say, to ask.

"Do you resent the Prince?" the question surprised Vaemond greatly and he wondered what the point of it was.

Zernik looked a little surprised by the question before he smiled with a smile that seemed affable though the interest in his eyes seemed to indicate something else entirely. "I do not." Zernik told Lord Celtigar. Zernik continued. "Though some may consider Prince Aegon's actions, or rather his decision making on my behalf, as no more different than a master taking their prerogative-"

Vaemond understood then the purpose of the question posed by Lord Celtigar.

"- but his interactions with me and the others proved enough to us that we ought to be patient." Zernik again waved towards his surroundings.

"Patience that was well rewarded. I am grateful for the path I'm on. I see now that I was meant to return to this Bay. Meant to help it wash away the blood from its stones and sands." Zernik turned to meet Lord Celtigar's eyes. "Does that answer your question, Lord Celtigar?"

"It does, councillor." Lord Celtigar said with a nod before he briskly turned around and began to walk, Vaemond locking step with him.

Once they were away, away from prying ears, did Vaemond speak up. "There was more to your question." Vaemond stated. "More than just asking if he felt resentful at having been a slave to Prince Aegon's whims."

Lord Celtigar nodded slightly. "Aye. I wanted to see if he was like he seemed."

Vaemond's eyes widened slightly before he nodded with a note of disdain in his expression. "He is a fanatic."

Lord Celtigar grimaced lightly. "Not quite…but yes, he is loyal to Prince Aegon." Lord Celtigar pursed his lips. "Like the rest of these people. It bodes ill if the Prince takes…offence to His Grace's summon, especially if the letter is not as…diplomatic as it should be."

Daemion snorted. "For mine father and I, yes it would likely bode ill if Prince Aegon is as much a warlord as he seems he is." Daemion eyed Lord Celtigar. "However you, my lord, should be safe from consequence given that your son is amongst his court, likely even in his army, and, of course your granddaughters are set to marry his sons. My father and I do not have such a shield protecting us."

"I doubt we are in much danger." Vaemond shook his head. Aegon might have changed from all that he knew of the boy, had seen, but he did not think Aegon had changed so much that he'd harm them for a fault not of their own.

"All that we have seen, and heard, Prince Aegon is more than just a warlord." Vaemond said as he harshly eyed his son with an expression of disappointment.

Daemion jutted his jaw but looked away from Vaemond's gaze.

Vaemond continued "He is a leader."

And no leader worth following was one that was led astray by anger.

Aegon might be someone who did not let slights go, but he was also the man who had the patience to wait years to pay back the slight a thousand fold, Vaemond thought with an internal grimace.

Such a man would not take out their anger on envoys.

"In the mould of the Conqueror." Lord Celtigar said with a grim note to his voice and Vaemond, despite his look of grimace, a look that came largely from the fact that such words would be ill-received back at court in Kings Landing, was considering that such comparison was likely more…true ringing than not.

To take a region as large as Slaver's Bay in six moons…

And then there was the matter of the lands found out in the West, an unparalleled feat. A feat that outdid his brother Corlys' famed voyages by a wide margin.

"Not even the Conqueror was as brutal." Daemion remarked quietly and Vaemond found himself nodding slightly. They did not fail to notice that there were none of the infamous Masters in this city. All he saw, all he could see, were the slaveborn.

Better clothed, yes, but ultimately, they had a kind of look to them, a kind of subtleness that only slaves really had. Not even commonfolk had it to the same degree.

So the question of 'Where are they…?' was one of the easier questions to find answers to. Gone.

Completely.

It was as disturbing as the reverence of Aegon, the extent of butchery committed against the Masters of this city…likely in all of the cities.

"No, he wasn't." Vaemond agreed with his son before he looked away, towards the front. After letting a moment of silence pass, Vaemond continued. "The Conqueror hadn't needed to be brutal."

'Only Maegor did and even he, the kinslayer, was no where near the kinds of legacy Aegon would leave behind in these lands' Vaemond thought privately.

Vaemond wanted to snort in derisive amusement. Where Maegor was vilified, Aegon would instead be revered by the peoples of this land.

And all that took…

All it took was that Aegon killed enough of the rulers to make sure that was the case…

Over a week later…

"There have been ships sighted on the horizon again." Daemion said in dulled excitement and Vaemond turned to face his son, his eyes bearing an intense look.

"Ships? How many?" Vaemond demanded to know. Already ships had arrived back from Elyria though none of them carried in them anyone they were aware of.

They finally received confirmation that Aethan Celtigar was amongst the army and that the next return would likely have Aethan on it with likely the Prince arriving on dragonback.

"Dozens. The Astapori think this is the second arrival of Prince Aegon's ships."

Vaemond thinned his lips as he considered it. 'Finally…'

They hoped to learn more from Aethan Celtigar about Prince Aegon…

"Let's go greet them." Vaemond said with a step in his feet as he rose from his seat.

"Lord Celtigar will meet us there." His son was quick to say as he joined in step with him. Yes…no doubt old Crispian would wish to see his son again.

And no doubt Crispian would wish to learn more about the truth about what's been happening in this city…in Slaver's Bay.

After some time, once they caught up with Lord Celtigar, they arrived at Merchants Port, the only port that was open as the other ports was full with the huge galleon ships, and they could see the large carracks that compared in size with that of the infamous Ibbanese ships.

They managed to squeeze through the cheering crowd, with plenty aid of their guards, and Vaemond saw, standing their on the dock, Lord Celtigar's son, Aethan, speaking with several men in chainmail, including Ser Lomerys, a man they'd spoken with after the first arrival of the ships.

"Aethan!" Lord Celtigar said as they walked towards the men and when the man's name was called out, Aethan – and the other men – looked towards their direction.

Aethan did not look surprised to see his father, in fact, he almost looked worried, a look he lost as they approached and the man began to smile at Lord Celtigar.

"Father." Aethan Celtigar said with a smile as they arrived by one another. Lord Celtigar grabbed Aethan by the shoulders.

"By the gods. You've grown, son." Lord Celtigar said with some amount of pride as he looked Aethan over. "You've grown indeed."

Aethan chuckled lightly before he nodded deeply, a warm smile now on his face. "Aye…father. I've been blooded well and truly, father." Aethan said with a lessening smile, one that Vaemond understood. War was no easy matter.

He'd seen it, been in it, having come close to death and seen friends and cousins die beside him in the Stepstones. Vaemond eyed Aethan closely. Yes…Vaemond thought to himself. Aethan certainly has been tested and blooded.

"Ser Vaemond. Ser Daemion." Aethan acknowledged with a nod, which Vaemond and his son returned duly.

"Going to introduce us yet, Celtigar?" one of the men behind Aethan said in a gruff, mocking tone, and Vaemond looked towards the man who spoke in High Valyrian.

The weathered man had the looks of Old Valyria, Vaemond noted, and it wasn't the only thing he noted. The smile on his face was placid, accommodating yet the eyes told Vaemond that they were being keenly studied, as if they were enemies.

The other men beside him had similar degree of looks about them.

"Father, Ser Vaemond, Ser Daemion, these are Ser Galaenys, Ser Lomerys, Ser Uthrik and Ser Maerro." Aethan explained and it surprised Vaemond a little.

"You are knights?" Daemion questioned surprised.

"What gave it away; our armour?" Ser Galaenys said with amusement in his tone of voice.

"Mayhaps it was our dashing looks." Another of the men, the one named Ser Lomerys, said with in amusement.

"How many times do I have to tell you that your mother lied to you?" the man named Ser Maerro said with mocking jest.

"Good sers." Ser Uthrik interjected, placing a hand on a shoulder each, on Ser Galaenys and Ser Lomerys. "Let us give Aethan a moment with his father and the rest of the guests." Ser Uthrik said and Aethan nodded to the Westerosi looking man.

"Alright, alright." The man named Ser Galaenys said with a small grin though his eyes never wavered from Vaemond this entire time. 'He's dangerous' Vaemond thought to himself as he met the man's eyes without faltering.

"We'll spare a cup or ten of good ale for you on your return, Aethan." Ser Galaenys said, finally turning away his eyes from Vaemond before he threw an arm over Ser Lomerys "We're going to have to have a chat with your sweet mother before you realise you're as ugly as pig shit, won't we?"

The comment made Daemion snort loudly and Vaemond sent a stern glare at his son, causing him to lose the amused look on his face.

"Apologies." Aethan said, drawing Vaemond's attention again. Vaemond noted that Aethan did not seem apologetic at all. He did not even look at ease.

"Victory has addled their minds a little."

"We understand." Lord Celtigar said with a smile and he placed a hand on Aethan's shoulder. "Come…tell us of the victories you have fought, my son. Tell me how you have made our House proud." This, it seemed was the right way to speak with Aethan for he began to show a genuine smile at Lord Celtigar's enthusiasm.

The next day…

Vaemond was not sure how long he'd been staring at the damned pyramid when Lord Celtigar came to join him on the rooftop of the manse.

"That troubled, Vaemond?" Lord Celtigar asked as he took a seat next to Vaemond, a contented sigh escaping the lips of Lord Celtigar.

Vaemond only gave a look to the old man before he looked away and back at the pyramid.

Crispian hummed in his throaty way before he spoke. "Are you truly still in disbelief about the victories or the near complete way they were achieved?"

"I am not." Vaemond said as he met the old Lord's eyes. Victories that had come with 'guile and speed', as Aethan so vaguely described. Victories that had come with minimal losses until Elyria who had known of and planned for their coming.

"I am however set at unease with the way Aethan was reluctant to share the information we need." Vaemond commented critically.

"I believe my son when he says we have little to fear from Aegon." Crispian said before he smiled a grim smile. "Although I know my son and his tells. It seems like the warning Zernik gave us should be heeded."

Vaemond nodded silently. "Aye…I agree. Those men…those knights…they were jesting with one another however there was no doubt that they were studying us."

Crispian's expression shifted gravely. "They remind me of Boremund Baratheon."

Vaemond snorted. Aye. He remembered the giant of a man. Jovial, yes, eager of drink, most certainly, but there was cleverness in that man. It was fortunate that Borros had not inherited that cleverness from Boremund.

They fell into a lull of silence.

One that Vaemond broke. "I wonder what it is about these scars that has your son treading so lightly in avoiding to describe in detail."

Aethan remarked that Aegon had suffered an 'injury' on the ways to Tolos, an injury that should have killed Aegon but one he suffered nevertheless. It was the only thing that Aethan had talked about in any kind of meaningful depth.

And the extent of which he'd talked about the injury, was shallow anyway, Vaemond thought with irritation. They'd hoped to learn more about Aegon and all they'd gotten was hardly any better than what they were already able to gather from the people of this damned city.

"I think we'll have to see for ourselves." Crispian commented and Vaemond nodded silently. He doubted the seriousness of this injury, given that Aegon had fought in Elyria alongside his men only a short time afterwards.

"I take it you moved on to safer topics? Your granddaughters?" Vaemond questioned and Crispian nodded, a shadow of a smile on his face.

"Aye. My granddaughters have settled in well with Prince Aegon's branch of the family." Crispian said and Vaemond couldn't help but be a little amused by the excitement the old Lord kept suppressed.

His great-grandchildren, Gods permitting, will be dragonriders. Vaemond knew that the Celtigars had looked upon House Velaryon with envy, especially with regards to how close the Velaryons were to House Targaryen.

There hadn't been a marriage between House Celtigar and House Targaryen before and the Targaryen blood they had was only inherited from the blood of House Velaryon.

Now, House Celtigar will have dragonriders with their blood in their veins, an achievement that Vaemond supposed would many deceased lords of Claw Isle look down, or up, from wherever heavens or hells they reside, with a look of pride.

Vaemond understood.

After all, he too would have grandsons and great-grandsons with his blood in their veins through Daeron and Laena. Perhaps, he mused to himself with a glint of ambition in his eyes, perhaps he would even had a great-grandson as King.

He heard a snort next to him and Vaemond, once he snapped out of his dreams, saw that Crispian was looking at him with a deeply amused look.

"Dreaming again, were we?"

Vaemond did not hide it at all. "I'm merely opening myself to the possibility" Vaemond said easily though he let a faint grin show, one that deepened as he spoke further. "No doubt you are too, about your granddaughters and the roles they are to have." Namely producing heirs for their husbands and ensuring the connection remains with the main branch of House Celtigar. Perhaps even remarry a daughter to House Celtigar. It'd be the best route to get a Celtigar Queen after all.

Crispian hummed. "Aye. It is unfortunate that neither of my granddaughters are betrothed to Prince Aegon's heir."

"It's not as if their children's inheritance will suffer." Vaemond said drily though he keenly eyed Crispian. One of the tasks His Grace had placed upon them was to learn more about this Elamaerys…and the size of the lands.

They did not learn nearly as much as they wished – even to the locals, they knew far too few about the empty lands, only that it was bountiful and a land that many wished to go to.

They did however get the understanding that the lands were large, comparable, if not larger, than the entirety of Slaver's Bay. And if all of that land was fertile land and as warm as the Summer Isles, then it was the kinds of lands that wars were fought over.

Though His Grace never mentioned about the nature of their factfinding, he did hear rumours that the lands were part of the reason why His Grace was summoning Aegon back to Kings Landing.

Perhaps he even wanted to use the unauthorised waging of war as an excuse to take lands from Aegon and gift to his own landless sons…

Vaemond wanted to snort. He doubted that was true. Not even His Grace was that foolish. Unless, of course, His Grace wanted to lure Aegon in and force him to yield to His Grace's demands…

"Has Aethan said anything worth knowing about Elamaerys?" Vaemond asked. When he'd been with Crispian and his son, they'd touched upon it briefly but again, it seemed as if Aethan was uninterested in going into, instead asking about his brother Bartimos and the Realm.

When pressed on the subject matter, Aethan had only said that he 'was not given leave to betray what may be considered secrets and that they could ask Prince Aegon directly when he arrives'. He'd been firm on that stance, frustratingly enough.

It seems like Aegon had a firm hold on his subjects.

"Only that House Celtigar's position is secured and that one day his yet-unnamed island in the Gulf of Dragons would be more glorious than Claw Isle ever was." Crispian said with a serious expression and Vaemond eyed the man intently.

"You believe him?" Vaemond asked with a raised eyebrow.

Crispian mulled it over. "I believe that he believes it. It was the most he talked about, this island. It lies south of a massive island named Draconys." Crispian said wryly though Vaemond did not miss the excitement in the old man's eyes.

He wasn't surprised by it. Not only has the second son found himself in the favour of a man like Aegon, but the second son had also secured lands and a place of honour.

It was no wonder Aethan was not talkative nor was it surprising that Crispian did not press more than a token effort.

Vaemond wondered if he should Daemion remain with Aegon just so that he could perhaps achieve a similar position as Aethan Celtigar had done…

They continued to talk well within the night and their days were largely spent simply watching and simply digging for more information, much of which came slowly but assuredly, however…

The moment of their meeting with Aegon approached when they heard a vicious roar over the city, a meeting that neither Vaemond or Crispian were looking forward to.

-Break-

Early 113 AC – Astapor, Ullhor Pyramid

Ser Aethan POV

Aethan walked alongside Ser Uthrik, his expression neutral as they made their way towards the central chamber where Prince Aegon was.

Prince Aegon had returned last eve, and had called for Aethan – and Ser Uthrik – to join him before the arrival of King Viserys' envoys, envoys that included his father.

Aethan was not concerned for the safety of his father. No…despite his doubts about Prince Aegon, whether or not he was the same man Aethan knew, Aethan could not imagine that the Prince would have his father, or the Velaryons, bear the brunt of consequence for the threats that'd come from King Viserys' letter.

Though their conversation had been mostly them trying to pry into the mind of the Prince –what Aethan thought and knew about the Prince – they did discuss enough about matters back in Westeros to know that the Prince's brother was not happy with Prince Aegon.

"I can sense the nervousness from a league away, Aethan." Ser Uthrik commented, forcing Aethan to look towards the man. Ser Uthrik had an understanding expression. "The matter will be handled with care, have no doubt."

"You don't think it changes anything?" Aethan asked with a raised eyebrow.

"It depends on if our Prince wants it to change anything." Ser Uthrik said with an easy smile and Aethan gave the man an unimpressed look.

Ser Uthrik sighed in response to Aethan's look and, as he spoke further, he pinned Aethan with a penetrating gaze. "What King Viserys wants and what he will get will depend on what our Prince wants to give to his kingly brother. Whether that is deference, whether that is an answer of an equal. Ultimately, to us, neither option matters as we are the Prince's men and never the men of the King of Westeros."

"That doesn't answer my question." Aethan said dryly and Uthrik laughed.

"No, I suppose it doesn't." Ser Uthrik said with another easy smile and Aethan knew then that Uthrik would share his thoughts on how this would go.

"My Prince." Ser Aethan said with bowed head in conjunction with Uthrik after they were given entry to the central chambers. The Prince wasn't alone. Lorgan Keller was there too.

"Ser Aethan. Ser Uthrik." Prince Aegon acknowledged before he waved them to take a seat at the table.

Once they were settled, Prince Aegon spoke with curtness. "The letter, a summons no doubt, your father and the Velaryons bring will no doubt be unpleasant." Prince Aegon said with a thin smile.

"I'd expect so, my Prince." Ser Uthrik said with a short nod.

Aethan sighed before he nodded. "My father and the Velaryons expect it also."

"No doubt nervous about my reaction?" Prince Aegon said with a thin smile.

Aethan nodded.

"Hmm. They've been here long enough to get a certain impression of me." Prince Aegon said with a wry note in his voice despite the seriousness of his expression.

Aye, Aethan thought. A certain impression that they almost certainly did not have a full picture of. They did not know about the miraculous nature of Aegon's healing and they did not know the depth of loyalty Prince Aegon had from the men and the former slaves of this Bay.

Nor did his father or Vaemond know that Prince Aegon was a dangerous man with a command of magic that'd make most supposed mages look no more than poor woods witches.

They hadn't had a need to know that however. And Aethan, despite his wariness, owed Prince Aegon a great deal.

"They are wary." Aethan added with a severe look.

Aegon smiled thinly. "They are only here on the behalf of my brother, Aethan. It is not their words that I will likely have grievances with."

Aethan was left more assured by those words.

"It is interesting they sent these particular men, my Prince." Ser Uthrik commented and Aethan glanced at the man. Aethan had not failed to notice that too and Aethan didn't like the idea of his family being used like this.

'Although…although it seems like King Viserys has punished House Celtigar.' Aethan thought to himself displeased. He knew that his father – and Bartimos – thought it possible that their House would be punished for their actions, punishment that was well worth, then and now, given that their blood was going to be dragonriders in the next generation, however from what his father had said, House Celtigar's reputation with the Targaryens in Kings Landing had taken a hit.

"It seems my brother has learnt a few things." Prince Aegon said with a strange look. "And amongst the reasons why he has chosen your father, Aethan, the main one I see is that your father was largely sent as a shield against my…displeasure, so to speak, at whatever nonsense my brother has conjured up."

"So you think it'll be that severe?" Aethan asked with a mild frown.

"Potentially." Prince Aegon said with a light nod. "Perhaps even as far as calling me a traitor if I don't run to bend the knee to my brother."

"Perhaps even as far as claiming Elamaerys in his name?" Ser Uthrik posed with a grave look.

"That possibility too exists." Prince Aegon said with a thin smile before he waved, as if to wave away with dismissiveness about such a matter.

"Nevertheless, I have already spoken with the admirals and the other commanders last eve." Prince Aegon told them as he leaned back in his chair. Aethan was surprised. 'So that is why I had not seen Galaenys or Maerro last eve…'

"Nothing changes. The men will be finishing the preparation for the journey to Elamaerys and to Lys come the end of this week. I will also depart according to my original plans." Prince Aegon looked to Aethan.

"You will have then to decide whether or not you wish to stay with Ser Galaenys and Ser Uthrik and oversee the operations in Liberty Bay." Prince Aegon told him and Aethan nodded his understanding.

He'd decided that he wanted to return to his wife and children however he was having some doubts now that his father had come to see him…

"And if there should there be summons?" Aethan asked intently despite knowing that it was almost a certainty that the letter his father had was a summons.

Prince Aegon smiled thinly, almost a grimace. "Then Viserys puts me into a difficult position…and puts House Targaryen into a difficult position…more than he already has done with his folly about his firstborn daughter."

Yes…his father had filled him in about the happenings back in Westeros. About how the realm was silently dividing along certain lines.

And how King Viserys was ignoring it. Or at least it appeared that way.

Father had told him that he had sworn an oath to recognise Princess Rhaenyra as Viserys' heir and that Bartimos intended to keep to father's oath so for them, the decision was already made despite the misgivings they had. It helped, of course, that Prince Baelon was to be Princess Rhaenyra's consort.

Aethan studiously eyed Prince Aegon. Difficult position…

"You plan to get out of this situation without harming your brother and his position?" Aethan asked with more surprise than he wished to show.

Prince Aegon hummed, making a noise that emanated from the back of his throat.

"Despite my brother's slights against me" Prince Aegon's eyes darkened slightly and Aethan grimaced internally at the word 'slights' "He is still my brother. To make his rule uncomfortable is not something I wish to do nor do I wish to break from his branch of House Targaryen in bad faith."

"It will be difficult." Ser Uthrik said with a grim look. "They have been asking everyone they can about Elamaerys."

Prince Aegon nodded. "As expected. It is not often that new land is found nor land that is unmolested by men and civilisation. I have little doubt that some may have some ideas about having a piece of our new homeland for themselves." Prince Aegon smiled and this time it was the kind of smile someone made when they were eager to rip off your head with their bare hands. "I welcome them to try it."

Aethan understood that 'them' included King Viserys as well.

Aethan was more relieved than ever to hear Prince Aegon say those words. It reminded him that perhaps his misgivings about the Prince was unfounded.

Hours later…

Aethan stood by the right of the throne-like chair the Prince sat on whilst Ser Uthrik and Lorgan Keller stood on the Prince's left as the doors to the central chambers were opened and his father and the Velaryons were led in by two of the Prince's guards.

Aethan noted the startled looks his father and the Velaryons gave the Prince no doubt it was about the gnarly scars and the scarred over eye-socket where it seemed as if flesh itself had knitted over the place where the emerald eye had once been.

"Prince Aegon." his father greeted with a bow of the head, a gesture befitting that of a Prince. The Velaryons did the same although their bows were shallower than that of his father's, something Aethan doubted Prince Aegon would have missed.

"Lord Crispian." Prince Aegon said with a faint nod, a small smile showing on his bearded faced. "It's been more than a decade since I have seen you."

"Aye, Prince Aegon." His father said "And I have come a long way to fulfil my duty to His Grace Viserys Targaryen, first of his name." It seemed like his father wanted to get this over with, with how he got to the point immediately.

"Indeed you did." Prince Aegon acknowledged before the Prince turned to look towards the Velaryons. "As did you, Ser Vaemond. Ser Daemion."

"We live to serve the Iron Throne, my Prince." Ser Vaemond said with a grim smile.

Prince Aegon smiled though it did not reach his eyes. "And how is it that your presence here serves my brother, Ser Vaemond? Lord Crispian?"

His father brought out a rolled letter and Prince Aegon waved away the guards and gestured for his father to approach.

"I bring you a letter from His Grace." His father said with a neutral expression.

"How curious that my brother send such esteemed men to hand deliver a letter." Prince Aegon's tone was calm though his stern look as he spoke seemed to make the younger Velaryon look nervous.

The Prince took the letter from his father and broke the seal and after unrolling the scroll, he began to read it in earnest.

"As Head of House Targaryen…" Prince Aegon's voice was quiet but loud enough for it to be heard, no doubt in Aethan's mind it being deliberate.

"I order…"

Prince Aegon's expression darkened and darkened the further his eyes read down the scroll.

"Explain yourself…"

"Post haste…"

"On the pains…"

The Prince stopped his reading and, for several long moments, did nothing but stare the scroll before he finally gave the letter to his left, to Ser Uthrik, who read it alongside Lorgan Keller.

"His Grace intended it to be for the eyes of Prince Aegon alone." Ser Daemion interjected harshly.

"Is that so?" Prince Aegon asked calmly as he rose from his seat and stepped down the small steps as he made his way towards Ser Daemion. Through it all, Ser Uthrik gave the letter to Aethan to read.

And then he understood that the anger shown by the Prince may not be as performative as he thought it might be.

Honestly, he was surprised to see how heavy-handed and threatening the Prince's brother was being.

He might have thought it was a kind of feint, a show, but the words of Ser Daemion had effectively shown that this letter was only intended for Prince Aegon.

There was no negotiation, there was no entreaty. Only cold and dangerous threatening to heed King Viserys' command and one only needed the most basics of understanding that the letter hinted at severe penalties would welcome Prince Aegon back in Kings Landing should he return 'for his unlawful actions'.

Penalties that one could easily infer an understanding from…

'Unlawful actions?' Aethan wondered. Was that truly how King Viserys saw their campaign in Slaver's Bay? Aethan did not think Westeros knew of their connections to Lys so it must be the war they waged against Slaver's Bay that King Viserys was deeming as unlawful.

"It is fortunate that my brother sent you my way." Prince Aegon calmly said as he stepped in front of Ser Daemion who tried to meet the Prince's one-eyed gaze.

"All of you" Prince Aegon continued as he looked towards Ser Vaemond and then to his father Crispian. "are connected to me through blood."

"Had you been a Westerling, a Tarly or even, a Tully, your continued living for bringing me this…offensive letter, would have been in dire circumstances." Prince Aegon said as with dreadful calmness.

"We have no control over what His Grace demands of you, Prince Aegon." His father said to the Prince.

"Aye, you do not." Prince Aegon said and Aethan saw the Prince clenching his fists before he placed his arms behind his back. "Lorgan." Prince Aegon called out as he glanced over his shoulder.

"Yes, my Prince?"

"Note down my answer." Prince Aegon said when he looked back at the three men.

"Yes, my Prince."

"My answer to his…demands…is so." Prince Aegon leaned slightly, and though Aethan could not see the Prince's face, he saw enough in Ser Daemion's and in Ser Vaemond's that he knew that the Prince had shed his calm façade.

"I do not recognise Viserys Targaryen's, the First of His Name, claim of authority of me and mine." Prince Aegon said and there was a cold, brutal harshness in the Prince's voice and from the way Prince Aegon was clenching his fists, Aethan could see that the Prince was restraining his anger.

"I do not recognise any claims of authority or Headship over me and my branch of House Targaryen for he has disinherited me and my line without just cause and as such has betrayed any and all bonds of blood and kinship.

I do not recognise any claims from Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, or any Targaryen not born of the union between Aegon Targaryen son of Baelon and Gael Targaryen daughter of Jaehaerys Targaryen First of His Name, on Elamaerys, which includes the mainland and all of its isles, and reject any such notions with complete totality." Each word spoken felt like a hammer blow, harsher and harder with every moment that passed, and the way that even his father was taken aback by the brutal words mirrored the shocking rejection Prince Aegon was giving.

Aethan was broken out of his shock as Prince Aegon dropped his arms and began to turn away from his father and the Velaryons.

And he saw Prince Aegon's controlled anger in his expression, an expression that remained as he continued to speak. "Should King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, find fault with my assertions…" the Prince looked over his shoulder, towards his father and the two Velaryons who looked shocked at the Prince's words.

"I welcome him to come and make me see reason in the same vein in which he wrote to me." Prince Aegon said with a chilling coldness in his tone of voice before he gestured towards. "You will get the letter when you depart for Westeros come in the morn." Prince Aegon said before he moved towards the throne-like chair.

"You know that His Grace will take this as treason?" Ser Vaemond managed to say.

"Treason?" Prince Aegon said as he gestured towards the guards to wait in the removal of the three men. "How it can be treason when I have been removed from not only the Iron Throne but also all links and claims to all that is Targaryen in Westeros, including the Isle of Dragonstone thanks to Viserys' unlawful disinheritance?" Prince's expression twisted in a gnarly, angry look.

"No, Ser Vaemond. Viserys Targaryen has broken my claims and my links to my heritage in Westeros. The name that I bear, Targaryen, the name I inherited from my father as his trueborn, is all that now remains of my heritage. And now, Ser Vaemond, with this latest slight with this letter, the name is all that there is to the bonds that I share with Viserys Targaryen." Prince Aegon looked away from Ser Vaemond. "Guards." The Prince only said before he continued to walk up the steps and the guards guided the men towards the doors though Aethan had time enough to share a nod with his father that he'd see the man before he departed.

When the doors closed, Aethan was quick to speak.

"My Prince...was that truly the right course of action?" Aethan asked as he looked upon the Prince who stared harshly at the doors and only after several moments passed did the Prince look towards him.

"What did you understand from the letter?" Prince Aegon asked him, the angry visage melting away into a strange look of intense calmness.

Aethan grimaced lightly and he sighed before he spoke. "That he exerts his kingly and patriarchal rights over you. And that he seeks to punish you for transgressions committed against him yet would also demand that you claim that you fought against the slavers in his name."

It was offensive without a doubt, the way King Viserys had structured the contents of the letter. Aethan wondered if the King had written it in the heat of his anger.

"The Prince could not stand for it." Lorgan Keller said, speaking up for the first time. "It is too blatant."

"There is no room for interpretation." Prince Aegon said as he glanced at Lorgan Keller. "There is no language in that letter that suggests that Viserys has any wish but to exert his supposed right, a right he forfeited years ago, over me. No entreaties. No compromise. Nothing. Only that it is his right that I do as he wishes. That I comply in the way he wishes. That he gets to punish me in the way he deems right for any crime he believes I have committed against him and the Iron Throne." Prince Aegon's expression grew clouded.

"I had hoped that my brother had grown wiser but it seems like wisdom evades him. Unfortunately for everyone."

There was a lull of silence.

"What now?" Ser Uthrik asked.

Prince Aegon looked towards Ser Uthrik.

"We continue on as planned." Prince Aegon said after a moment's pause. "Our operations in Liberty Bay will be unaffected. And we will still go home by next year. Although I expect that I might come to face my other brother in the Disputed Lands." Prince Aegon pondered it further with a grave look. "Perhaps even my cousin Rhaenys as well."

"Do you think your brother would go that far?" Ser Uthrik asked with a troubled look. "The way the letter was written might indicate that but surely he can't be that…"

"It seems like my brother is more angry with me than I expected. Who could have known that my brother had it in him to get angry like this about anything?" Prince Aegon said with a grim smile though he lost it as he spoke further.

"I believe there is a good chance I will meet Daemon in the Disputed Lands."

"Then all the more reason we should stop the campaign here, my Prince." Aethan considered with a heavy urging in his voice. "We've gotten what we want, more than what we wanted. Your presence here would also make it easier to keep control."

"There is a good chance that if our Prince's brother is angry enough to send such a letter, he'd be angry enough to send the other brother anywhere Prince Aegon is." Lorgan Keller remarked.

"Correct." Prince Aegon said with a light nod. "It is better that if there is to be confrontation, it'll be far from Liberty Bay." Prince Aegon eyed Aethan. "Besides, my brother is many things, and he may even hate me, but I doubt he'll hate me enough to consider kinslaying."

Aethan was unconvinced by that and it seemed Prince Aegon saw it. Prince Aegon smiled. "Even if he did consider it…I wouldn't. Although that is not to say that he would get it easy." the Prince's expression darkened and Aethan understood the look. It was the same kind of look he'd seen throughout the campaign and every time they'd encountered a hurdle.

Prince Aegon shook his head as he stood up. "I think that has been enough excitement for the day." Prince Aegon looked towards Ser Uthrik. "Come with me. There are matters I wish to discuss with you." The Prince then looked towards Aethan. "I expect you will give me an answer on what you wish to do in the coming days?"

Aethan found himself nodding silently and the Prince gave him a short nod before he left with Ser Uthrik by his side, leaving him with Lorgan Keller.

"When you speak with your father" Lorgan Keller began, drawing his full attentions. He saw that Lorgan Keller was nodding towards his hand and Aethan realised he still had the letter. "Show him that letter and ask him the simple question whether or not he would stand for it if he was in the Prince's shoes."

"My father would think it unjust, perhaps" Aethan allowed "But King Viserys is his King."

"Aye." Lorgan Keller agreed "But unjustness is unjustness. Your father will see that."

Aethan understood what Keller was saying. "House Celtigar is already in difficult waters. My father won't do anything to upset his King."

"No. Likely he will not. But he may." Keller said with a shrug of the shoulders. "It is worth trying at least. It could even perhaps help deescalate the situation should we be fortunate." Keller said before he walked away, leaving Aethan to his thoughts.

It was several long moments before Aethan moved from his spot and as Aethan walked out of the Ullhor Pyramid, walking towards the manse his father was staying at, Aethan realised that he couldn't quite go home…not yet.

Much to his disappointment.