Chapitre 63: Chapter 62
Daenys sat motionless on a plain rock, staring into the distance as the cool sea breeze gently brushed through her silver hair. The sky above her was bathed in the colors of late afternoon, but her thoughts were far away, deep in the visions that had haunted her for weeks. A huge, black dragon loomed before her, its shadow plunging entire cities and lands into darkness.
She always thought that it was Balerion who appeared in her visions. It only made sense, as he was her dragon and it was not uncommon to have visions of those closer to the one dreaming. She should know, she had been studying everything since she was little, which gave her a better grasp of her abilities.
Every book, every scroll she could find on Dragon dreams and the magic of dragons, Daenys had devoured, hoping to better understand her gift. And yet, for all her knowledge and dedication, there was always an uncertainty in her visions, a fleeting sense that she wasn't grasping everything she should have.
But the first time Daenys was in Azorath, she realized that it wasn't Balerion who had appeared in her visions. It was Ancalagon. The mighty, legendary dragon whose mere mention evoked awe and fear in equal measure. The mighty creature, whose wingspan could already darken entire cities, had been the dragon of her dreams - not Balerion.
As if Balerion had read her mind, he lifted his head, made a small screeching sound and looked at her in confusion. He tilted his head slightly to one side as if trying to understand her inner struggle.
Daenys chuckled softly and raised her hand to hide her laughter. "What's wrong, hmm?" she asked playfully. "Not hungry anymore?"
In front of Balerion still lay the charred corpse of the cow he had burnt with a single breath. He had killed it effortlessly, but now his appetite seemed to have evaporated as he looked at her with his head slightly tilted as if he could understand her words. A low, grumbling sound escaped him, almost like a sigh, and Daenys shook her head with a smile.
"You'll get hungry," she added with a smile and held out her hand. Balerion leaned his head forward hesitantly and nuzzled gently into her outstretched hand.
She felt the rough scales beneath her fingers. They felt like cold, hardened metal, but underneath she could feel the warmth and unbridled power pulsing within him.
"You'd think you have a cat and not a dragon," came a familiar voice behind her that she would recognize anywhere.
Without turning around, Daenys knew immediately who it was. She had already guessed he was coming. It was always like this when her parents were involved in one of their heated arguments and they both wanted to keep their distance.
It was her brother, Gaemon Targaryen. The age difference between them was clear, and although Daenys knew she would one day be his wife, she found it hard to really see him as a future husband.
Initially, the biggest challenge was ignoring the age difference.
She had always seen him as the younger brother she had to protect and raise.
But over the years, he had proven himself competent enough that she had learned to overlook this difference. What's more, she realized that she was able to steer the direction in which he was developing.
It was an undeniable advantage that Daenys could literally groom her brother, Gaemon, into the man she wanted, even if she would never admit to doing it.
Without him realizing it, she turned her own hobbies into his. It was perhaps a bit manipulative, even cruel in some ways, but she never means harm in it. She did it for a very simple reason: she wanted to make sure they shared common interests if they were going to grow old together. She wanted to make the most of their inevitable future.
Balerion turned his head towards her brother and a low, soft growl escaped his throat as if he had understood Gaemon and heard him call him a cat.
"It's all right, Balerion," she whispered with a soft smile on her lips. She stroked the rough scales of his mighty head, her touch immediately calming the dragon.
"Are they fighting again?" Daenys asked as the smile faded from her face and her features were overshadowed by sadness. Her usually vivid purple eyes lost some of their sparkle.
Gaemon sat down near her, but kept enough distance so as not to disturb Balerion. The dragon kept an eye on him, but seemed content with his position as he remained calm.
"No," Gaemon replied softly. "This is about House Baelaeron. Father has brought Lord Velaryon, Lord Celtigar, and a few others together. They're discussing what to do next."
Daenys remembered all too well the conversation that had changed everything - the conversation that made not only her, but everyone in her world doubt everything they had once thought certain. It was as if someone had ripped the solid ground from under their feet and thrown them into a void of uncertainty.
She had had an unsettling feeling all day long that she couldn't shake off. It had been there since the moment she had gotten out of bed and heard the soft splashing of water as a bath was prepared for her. It wasn't a vision that haunted her, not a lucid dream that warned her, just a feeling.
Even when she got dressed later and sat at the large dining table with her family, the feeling had not gone away.
The large doors of the hall were suddenly flung open with a loud creak and a man rushed in, out of breath, his clothes disheveled and his forehead glistening with sweat. It was a slave.
Her parents and siblings looked just as puzzled as she did. Why was he in such a hurry? A slave overstepping the formal boundaries and rules of the house in such an obvious way meant that something of the utmost urgency had happened.
The slave stood trembling in the center of the great hall, his head slightly bowed as he struggled to regain his composure. His voice still trembled slightly as he began to speak, but he tried to keep his tone respectful.
"Forgive me... pardon my intrusion, noble lords, noble ladies," he said, bowing low. "I bear a message of great urgency." He paused as if the words stuck in his throat, then continued. "A letter, my lord... it has been entrusted to me to deliver to you immediately."
Daenys' father, the head of the family, looked at the man with a cold, probing gaze before nodding curtly. "Bring it here," he ordered.
The slave approached cautiously and held out the letter. His hands trembled slightly as he handed over the envelope.
Daenys watched the scene carefully, and as her father took the letter, her eyes fell on the seal that closed the envelope.
Her heart stopped for a moment.
The seal was unmistakable - the seal of House Baelaeron. Daenys' eyes widened slightly and she disappeared for a brief moment into a vision that passed as quickly as it came.
Meanwhile, Aenar Targaryen, her father, picked up a sharp knife and cut open the seal of the letter.
His face, usually characterized by a calm imperturbability, showed no emotion, but his eyes narrowed slightly as he followed the words on the paper.
Aenar Targaryen's face darkened as he finished reading the letter. With a sharp snap, he dropped the parchment onto the table in front of him and his eyes flashed with anger. He stood up abruptly, the anger in his posture unmistakable. "You disturbed me for this? For that ridiculous joke?" His voice thundered through the great hall, so sharp and penetrating that the slave flinched and lowered his head even lower.
The poor man trembled, fear and panic reflected in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead as Aenar pointed a finger at him. "You'll hang for this," he growled.
Her father's words echoed in her head, but she could hardly believe what she had just seen.
She stared into space as her vision clouded over. "He's alive," she whispered, barely audible, as her thoughts whirled around a single, clear realization.
"It's true," she suddenly murmured louder, the tension in her face easing and her eyes clearing again. "He's alive."
All eyes were suddenly on Daenys.
Daenys slowly raised her head and looked into the faces of her family.
"Kaelarys Baelaeron, the rider of Ancalagon and founder of Azorath... lives," she whispered in disbelief, but this time everyone heard her as they all started at her and the previous joke of the letter became a reality.
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Any ideas for the name of the Empire? Just Baelaeron Empire? It is typical just the family name, but I wanted to ask you guys first :D
Men scroll
Men see
Men smile
Men gifts Stones
Men leaves Review
Men leaves happily.
Yours,
Jasonenrick! :D
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone