ate 92 AC – Months after the departure to Tarth
Dragonstone was a silent castle. The waves crashed against the rocks with fury, as if the sea missed the dragons that had gone to war. The fortress, shrouded in mist and thunder, grew darker with each passing day. And yet, in the midst of that silence, something was beginning to grow.
Aegon, nearly five years old, was no longer just a boy. There was a quiet weight to him, a presence that drew the attention of servants, knights, and maesters alike. His dark eyes watched everything with the calm of a storm waiting to break.
The Birth of Laena Velaryon
In the highest towers of the fortress, Rhaenys gave birth to a girl: Laena Velaryon. Strong, rosy-cheeked, with clear Targaryen features and eyes that shone like molten silver. The child rarely cried, but observed the world with the same intensity as her cousin Aegon.
He visited her every day. He watched her sleep, touched her fine hair, and spoke words in High Valyrian that no maester had taught him. He felt something in her. A flame. An echo.
The Freedom of Aenarion
In the caverns beneath the mountain, Aenarion would no longer accept his chains.
The young dragon, with black scales tinged with crimson, had begun to escape. He flew above the walls during storms, roaring like thunder, irritated by any attempt to confine him.
Aegon followed him, running along the cliffs, laughing in the rain and wind. The frightened servants began to call them "the stormborn children."
Training and Pressure
Ryam Redwyne, faithful to Aemon's request, began training the boy.
But Aegon wanted no part of swords. He wasn't interested in the elegance of duelists. He wanted impact. Weight. Hammers.
His raw strength drew attention, and even at a young age, he could knock down shields with wooden weapons. He was fearless, direct, impulsive. Still, in the early hours of morning, he would secretly read books in Old Valyrian and study tactical maps. The fire of the body was balanced by the hunger of the mind.
The Letter
On a gray morning, a raven arrived.
Its feathers were stained. It carried a letter sealed with the Targaryen sigil, but the parchment was blotched with something dark and dry. Jaehaerys received it in silence.
The message was short.
Its exact content was never revealed. But the old king's face turned pale. He said nothing for hours. And when he finally stood, his eyes were red.
Something terrible had happened in Tarth.