The war in the Stepstones dragged on, and after three long years, Daemon and Lord Corlys Velaryon found themselves locked in a seemingly endless battle against Craghas "The Crabfeeder" Drahar. The enemy's relentless guerilla tactics — night raids, sabotage, and retreats into labyrinthine caves — frustrated every attempt Daemon made to engage in open battle. Victory seemed elusive, slipping away each time they drew close.
Annatar, now thirteen, had become Daemon's loyal squire and was adjusting to life in the war-torn Stepstones. The youth had witnessed the toll the war took, both on Daemon's resolve and the morale of Corlys's troops.
[Scene: Stepstones – Daemon's War Camp]
Annatar was working to repair Daemon's armor in the camp, the sounds of hammer and anvil ringing through the tense silence of the evening. Lord Corlys approached, observing him with a calculating gaze.
Corlys:
"Annatar, you handle that blade well. You may yet prove useful in battle."
Annatar looked up, a glimmer of pride in his eyes.
Annatar:
"Thank you, my lord. I'm doing all I can to support Prince Daemon and the men. I only wish I could do more."
Corlys's expression softened slightly as he put a hand on Annatar's shoulder.
Corlys:
"Sometimes, holding steady and carrying on is more than enough. You'll have your time to fight. Just watch and learn for now."
Annatar nodded, feeling the weight of Corlys's words. Though young, he took his duties seriously, seeing himself as a small but vital piece in the larger scheme of the war.
[Scene: Later in Camp – Annatar and Laenor]
As night settled over the camp, Annatar spotted Laenor Velaryon, Corlys's son, preparing Seasmoke, his dragon. The silver-scaled beast stirred restlessly, and Annatar found himself drawn to the sight.
Annatar:
"Seasmoke is magnificent. You're lucky, you know — having a dragon to ride into battle."
Laenor chuckled, looking over his shoulder at Annatar.
Laenor:
"It's not always so lucky when you're being shot at by a dozen archers, or when Craghas's men hide themselves deep in those cursed caves."
Annatar laughed, feeling a sense of camaraderie with Laenor despite their difference in station.
Annatar:
"Still, you must feel powerful up there. Like a god among men."
Laenor's eyes darkened, his smile fading slightly.
Laenor:
"Powerful, maybe, but it's a lonely place too, Annatar. Up there, it's just you and the fire. You learn to be brave, but you also learn fear."
Annatar listened intently, realizing there was a depth to Laenor he hadn't considered before. It gave him a new respect for the young Velaryon.
[Scene: Stepstones – War Tent]
Daemon, Corlys, and a few advisors huddled around a map, their expressions grim. Annatar stood close by, watching as Daemon clenched his fists in frustration.
Corlys:
"Our forces can't take much more of this, Daemon. Every night we lose men to ambushes. And every day, we're no closer to drawing Drahar out."
Daemon glanced at Annatar, who had been silent, absorbing the war council's deliberations.
Daemon:
"Annatar, what would you do if you were in my position?"
Annatar hesitated, surprised by the question, but Daemon's expectant gaze pushed him to answer.
Annatar:
"I… I'd lure Drahar out, my prince. Maybe make him think we're weaker than we are, let him believe he has the upper hand."
Corlys arched an eyebrow, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Corlys:
"The boy has the mind of a tactician."
Daemon gave Annatar an approving nod, clearly pleased.
Daemon:
"Indeed. A good mind, sharpened by war."
[Scene: The Stepstones – Daemon's War Camp, Night]
Annatar was tending to Daemon's gear when a royal messenger arrived, bearing word from King's Landing. Annatar stepped back as the messenger relayed the message, watching Daemon's expression darken as he heard that his brother, King Viserys, had refused to send aid.
Daemon's frustration reached a breaking point, and he struck the messenger, who fell to the ground. Annatar stepped forward as the messenger retreated, feeling both admiration and trepidation at the prince's anger.
Annatar (quietly):
"Prince Daemon… What now?"
Daemon looked at him, and for a moment, his expression softened. He placed a hand on Annatar's shoulder.
Daemon:
"We fight, Annatar. We make them regret every slight, every night of suffering they've caused us. And we end this war ourselves."
[Scene: Stepstones – The Final Assault]
The next day, Daemon prepared to lure the Crabfeeder's forces into open combat. Annatar helped him don his armor, the weight of it symbolic of the final push Daemon intended to make.
Annatar watched as Daemon strode out toward the enemy with a white flag, his heart pounding as he realized the risk Daemon was taking. Nearby, Corlys gave orders to his infantry, and Laenor mounted Seasmoke, ready to strike at Daemon's signal.
Laenor (to Annatar):
"Watch closely, Annatar. This is how we turn the tide."
Annatar nodded, feeling the tension building as he glanced between Daemon and the enemy forces that were beginning to emerge from the caves.
Daemon discarded the white flag, launching the ambush as planned. Velaryon soldiers surged forward, while Seasmoke took to the air, unleashing a storm of fire upon the enemy ranks. Annatar watched in awe as the battle unfolded, the skies filled with fire and smoke.
When he could bear it no longer, Annatar joined the fray, fighting beside the Velaryon soldiers. He was young, but his blade found its mark, striking down corsairs and proving his worth among the hardened warriors.
[Scene: The Caves – Daemon's Confrontation with the Crabfeeder]
As the battle raged on, Daemon pursued Drahar into the caves. Annatar stood outside, breath held as he watched his prince disappear into the darkness. Minutes stretched into what felt like hours, until finally, Daemon emerged, dragging the mutilated body of the Crabfeeder behind him.
The soldiers erupted into cheers, and Annatar felt a surge of pride and relief, knowing that this hard-won victory was their own.
[Scene: Stepstones – Aftermath of the Battle]
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the blood-soaked battlefield in shadow, Annatar looked at Daemon, seeing the fire of triumph still burning in his eyes. Daemon had won, not with the help of the king, but by his own strength and the loyalty of those who followed him.
Daemon met Annatar's gaze, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he clapped the boy on the shoulder.
Daemon (to Annatar):
"You have proven yourself, Annatar. Bravery, loyalty, strength… you have them all."
Annatar stood straighter, pride swelling in his chest as he nodded.
Annatar:
"And I'll keep serving you, my prince. Until every battle is won."
With Daemon, Corlys, and Laenor by his side, Annatar felt ready for whatever came next, bound to them by fire, blood, and the unbreakable bonds of war.
The Narrow Sea and the Dragon's Fire
[Scene: Dragonstone – The Courtyard, Sunset]
Annatar stands in the Dragonstone courtyard, gazing out over the rugged cliffs and turbulent sea. The sky is painted with hues of orange and purple, the sun sinking slowly into the waves. The three years he spent in the Stepstones have left their mark: a faint scar trails along his jawline, and there's a new intensity in his eyes. He feels at once like a stranger and a son returned.
Footsteps echo across the stone as his cousin, Aeron, approaches with an easy smile, arms crossed over his chest.
Aeron (smirking):
"Look what the war brought back. For a while, I thought you'd forgotten all about Dragonstone."
Annatar chuckles, moving to clasp Aeron's forearm with a firm grip. There's a moment of silence as they look at each other, the weight of their reunion lingering.
Annatar:
"The Stepstones have a way of making a man appreciate home."
A figure appears just behind them: Daeron, Aeron's father and Annatar's mentor. His face is stern, but there's a hint of pride in his eyes.
Daeron:
"Then prove what you've learned, Annatar. Show us how the war has sharpened you."
Aeron grins, drawing his sword with a gleam in his eyes.
Aeron:
"It's been too long since we've crossed swords, cousin. Let's see if you've picked up anything worthwhile."
Annatar's smile grows, and he unsheathes his sword, nodding in acceptance. They take their positions, circling each other with a mutual respect and a readiness for the challenge ahead.
With a swift move, Aeron lunges first, aiming a clean strike at Annatar's side. Annatar parries smoothly, twisting to deflect the blade with an agility that surprises even Daeron. The two cousins exchange a series of quick strikes, their swords clashing in rhythmic harmony, each movement speaking to their shared history and bond.
Daeron steps forward, joining the sparring with a calculated strike to test Annatar's reflexes. His moves are faster, more refined than Aeron's, and Annatar feels the familiar pressure of his mentor's skill. Yet, he matches every move, anticipating the strikes as if reading Daeron's mind.
Sweat begins to bead on Aeron's brow as he struggles to find an opening. Finally, Annatar seizes the moment, sidestepping and disarming Aeron with a swift twist of his wrist, sending his cousin's sword clattering to the ground.
Aeron (catching his breath, astonished):
"Seven Hells, you've become a damn warrior, cousin. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't felt it myself."
Daeron nods approvingly, a rare smile breaking across his otherwise stoic face.
Daeron:
"The Stepstones turned you into a swordsman of skill. I didn't expect this level of precision, Annatar."
Annatar sheaths his sword, nodding respectfully to Daeron and Aeron. He feels a sense of pride and relief, as if the years of war have finally been understood by those he respects most.
Annatar:
"War forces you to learn fast, or not at all. But seeing Dragonstone… it reminds me why I fought."
[Scene: Dragonstone – Silverwing's Nest, Midnight]
The moon sits high in the sky as Annatar walks quietly to Silverwing's nesting area. He navigates the rocky paths up the cliffs, where the faint sounds of the waves crashing below provide a sense of calm. Silverwing's form is silhouetted against the starlit sky, her silver scales glinting in the moonlight. She looks larger, more imposing, than when he last saw her, and his heart aches with guilt for leaving her.
As he steps closer, Silverwing's eyes meet his. She huffs, a low rumbling sound, and shifts her head to the side, her massive wings twitching with restrained energy. It's clear from her behavior that she's not pleased with him.
Annatar reaches out, placing a gentle hand on her warm, scaly cheek. Silverwing huffs again, nudging him hard enough to nearly push him back. She tilts her head away, making it clear that she hasn't forgiven his absence just yet.
Annatar (softly):
"I know, my old friend. I didn't want to be away for so long."
Silverwing snorts, almost rolling her eyes, and then turns her head slightly to give him a look of reproach.
Annatar:
"I went to war for you… for all of us. The Stepstones needed to be pacified to keep Dragonstone safe."
She stares at him with an unblinking intensity, then lowers her head slightly, the tension in her massive shoulders easing. Silverwing nudges him again, softer this time, almost as if she's finally acknowledging his reason.
Feeling a sense of relief, Annatar smiles and takes a breath, swinging up onto her back with practiced ease. Silverwing lets out a low rumble, spreading her wings wide. She leaps off the cliffside with a powerful surge, and together they soar into the open sky.
Annatar feels the familiar thrill of freedom as the cold wind whips past him, and he holds tight to Silverwing, her powerful wings carrying them higher and faster over the sea and land.
The night stretches around them, the stars above like scattered diamonds, and the moon bathes everything in a silvery glow. Annatar feels his worries slip away as he rides through the sky, reconnecting with the creature that's been his closest companion.
They glide over Dragonstone, past the sleeping cliffs, and into the open sea. Silverwing roars into the night, her voice carrying out over the waves, echoing into the vastness. Annatar closes his eyes, absorbing the sound, letting it echo in his heart. After all this time, he feels whole again.
After a long flight, they return to Dragonstone, landing softly on the cliff edge. Annatar dismounts, patting Silverwing's neck affectionately.
Annatar (whispering):
"Thank you, Silverwing. For waiting."
Silverwing nuzzles him gently before turning and settling back into her nest, her large eyes watching as Annatar makes his way back down the path. She remains a silent, powerful guardian, her presence reassuring him that no matter where he goes, Dragonstone will always be home.
Você também pode gostar
Comentário de parágrafo
O comentário de parágrafo agora está disponível na Web! Passe o mouse sobre qualquer parágrafo e clique no ícone para adicionar seu comentário.
Além disso, você sempre pode desativá-lo/ativá-lo em Configurações.
Entendi