A chapter a bit late (read: a month late), and I am sorry, I took a long time to update the story for personal reason but I will keep updating the story as I am in vacation, vacation that I will use to write a lot of chapters, so enjoy.
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Inside a courtyard two young boys with silver hair were fighting each other, sending punch at each other that made the air around them shake, for the servant that were waiting a bit outside it was as if dragons were roaring at each punch sent, but for the almost thirty years old Emperor it was barely acceptable, but he was a genius after all and he couldn't understand the difficulty of normal practitioner.
"Okay, that's enough you two. Aegon, Aenar, come here."
Standing in front of their father, the two young princes couldn't help but stop in their track to look at their father, since young they were raised hearing about his tale about how he conquered six of the seven kingdoms with an army and dragons and how he conquered the last kingdom, Dorne, simply by sending a letter whose content is unknown to every one of the court. Looking at him in awe for a moment both of them bowed to him in respect before speaking to him cheerfully.
"How was my martial art father?" Questioned Aegon, with a calm countenance, contrary to his brother, Aenar who was too excited to calm himself.
"Good, but you have to remember, both of you, that the Dragon Style martial art is nothing but a pale copy to your own dragon form, remember, for other this style is about fighting like a dragon, but for us of the Targaryen family it should simply be natural for we are dragons."
"Understood father."
"Good, now continue your training for a few more minutes, the maid will come in a few moment to wash you and dress you when you are done and you have eaten your breakfast you shall both go studying with your sisters at the Imperial Academy with the other noble scion, remember this is an opportunity to make friends and loyal follower, the crown prince shall be chosen at the end of your stay there, in about five months."
Both of the princes acknowledged their Imperial Father's instruction before continuing their training, a bit disappointed at their father's lack of compliment about their progress.
"You are too hard on them Akatosh." Softly reprimanded his wife, Visenya. "They are already at the medium stage of the 'Mortal Realm' they have all the time in the world to reach the peak."
"Maybe, but I don't want them to fade as we stay immortal, you too know that because of this... Problem." He spat as he said the last word. "Our children won't have the same longevity as I should have so them reaching the 'Spirit Realm' is essential."
"I know." She sighed. "Ok, stop talking about this, how about you accompany me to the throne room, I heard from Rhaenys that a particularly skilled artisan made a fascinating sword with the valyrian steel you got from Valyria. He gave it to Rhaenys saying that it would be a gift for the Dragon's Throne future crown prince."
"Oh?" His interest picked, Akatosh made his way to the throne room, whereupon his entry every courtier and noble knelt down.
"All hail the Dragon Emperor Akatosh! Long may he live!"
But, both Akatosh and his wife paid them no more attention than a nod, knowing that they were excused they began to leave the room leaving only the imperial trio in it. In the middle of the room, a sword lay, upon taking it in his hands, Akatosh felt a mystical aura flowing inside it, extending his sense he began to see what this particular energy was and after a few moments, he began to laugh loudly in amusement before asking his wife and Empress Rhaenys.
"What name did he gave this sword?"
"He called it Excalibur, a particular name, before saying that the one holding this sword shall be the ruler of Westeros." She said with a frown. "Nothing is wrong with it right?"
"No, nothing." He assured her, to soothe her fear before asking. "Who was the one that gave you this sword? Did he give his name? What did he look like?"
"He was an old man with a rather long beard and a walking stick, he called himself Ambrosius Aurelianus, a rather odd name, but he asked us to call him Merlin."
"What is wrong Akatosh?" Asked Visenya.
"This sword is made from Valyrian Steel, that much is true, but the technique used on it are Alteran in nature, and I do not know how, the artisan was able to empower the very sword with the power of the Heavens quite literally, the one holding this sword will be what some may call a 'Child of Destiny' all they would be blessed by luck and power as long as they stayed on this world and under Heaven's influence."
"Alteran? Shouldn't they be unable to come into this world?" Said Visenya as she recalled what Akatosh told her and Rhaenys.
"They aren't able to come with their power and that is the beauty of it, Merlin came here under his mortal form and forged this weapon with mortal means, making it seems as if he was blessed by the heavens, quite impressive. I am pretty sure that right now, Merlin is no more, he should have ascended once again, he may have come here purely to sate his curiosity."
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"It is known to everyone in Westeros and Essos that Excalibur is the mythical sword of the Dragon Emperor, sometimes attributed with magical powers or associated with the rightful sovereignty of the Dragon Throne. The sword was forged by an artisan named Ambrosius Aurelianus, or simply Merlin, an unknown man who disappeared shortly after giving the sword to the Empress Rhaenys telling her that this sword shall be gifted to the Crown Prince when he was chosen, throughout history this sword would play an important role as every member of the royal family would from the moment they began training learn how to use sword, making every subject learn to make Westerosi culture a bit too martial oriented, but the Imperial Academy/School created by the legendary Akatosh would reverse as it's education was divided into two parts, martial and civil, showing the two big factions in court, where both commoners and nobles would mingle."
-From: "Myths and Legends about the Dragon Throne." by Imperial Scholar Balearys Targaryen.