Capítulo 47: Chapter 47 - The Green Terror
124 AC
The first day of the fourth moon.
Aemond Pov
The Starry Sept, a magnificent dome-shaped structure, greeted me with its grandeur. Its black marble walls exuded an aura of solemnity, while the arched windows allowed streams of light to gently illuminate the sacred space within. Beneath the sept, the crypts cradled the remains of the departed High Septons, including my mentor, High Septon Robyn.
Even now, I keenly felt the void left by his absence. His parting words echoed in my mind, urging me to be a man of integrity and virtue before succumbing to the fever that ultimately claimed his life.
"He was a good man, may the Seven rest his soul," my uncle Ormund's voice broke through my thoughts, his solemnity matching mine. I merely nodded, my grief weighing heavy upon me.
"The preparations for your journey have been completed. Please convey my regards to Uncle Otto," my uncle continued, his voice carrying both concern and support.
Acknowledging his words, I ascended the stairs, my gaze drifting to the sight of the High Septon leading a gathering of the devout in prayer to the Warrior. As their devotions concluded, the High Septon turned his attention towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders in a gesture of blessing.
"The Seven have bestowed their blessings upon you, Aemond of House Targaryen," he proclaimed, his voice carrying a tone of reverence. "May you faithfully follow their divine will."
Filled with a sense of purpose and determination, I embarked on my journey beyond the city gates. Before me, Oldtown sprawled, a testament to the grandeur and complexity of the realm in which I resided. Its bustling streets, towering structures, and diverse inhabitants represented the intricate tapestry of life.
Waiting outside the gates stood Vhagar, her immense form captivating all who beheld her. Her scales shimmered with a mesmerizing combination of bronze and greenish-blue hues, while her bright green eyes glinted with wisdom and power. She was a true marvel, a fearsome beast capable of untold destruction. I could almost hear Aegon's voice from our last ride together, describing her as "a killer if there ever was one."
With a mix of awe and trepidation, I approached Vhagar, realizing the immense responsibility that lay ahead. I would ride upon her back, forging my own destiny as a dragonrider, bound to honor the legacy of House Targaryen and navigate the intricate web of politics and power that awaited me beyond the city walls.
As I climbed atop Vhagar, my heart swelled with a blend of anticipation and determination. The wind whispered promises of adventure and the unknown, urging me to embrace the challenges that lay ahead. With the blessings of the Seven and the strength of my bloodline, I would chart my own course in the ever-changing game of thrones.
It took three arduous days of travel before I finally set my eyes upon the majestic city of King's Landing. From high above, perched atop Vhagar's mighty back, I witnessed the sprawling expanse of the city below me. Its labyrinthine streets intertwined like veins, pulsating with the vibrant energy of life and ambition.
With a gentle descent, I guided Vhagar towards the designated landing area near the dragon pit. The massive structure stood as a testament to the ancient bond between House Targaryen and their formidable dragon companions. As I dismounted, the ground beneath my feet seemed to hum with the echoes of centuries past.
Making my way through the bustling streets, the sights and sounds of King's Landing enveloped me. Merchants hawked their wares, their voices blending with the vibrant colors of market stalls. Aromatic scents wafted through the air, enticing passersby with promises of exotic flavors and delicacies. The clamor of horses' hooves and the murmur of conversation intermingled, creating a symphony that was uniquely King's Landing.
Finally, I arrived at the gates of the Red Keep, where my family eagerly awaited my return. The imposing walls, tinged with the red hue that had given the fortress its name, stood as a symbol of power and authority.
As I reached the top of the steps, my eyes instantly locked onto the familiar figures waiting for me. Aegon, my elder brother and closest confidant, stood tall and proud. Beside him, our mother, her face radiant with a mixture of love and relief, rushed towards me, enveloping me in her warm embrace.
"Oh, how you have grown, my dear Aemond," she whispered, her tender brown eyes welling with tears of joy. Her touch conveyed a sense of comfort and belonging that washed away the weariness of my journey.
"I missed you too, mother," I replied, my voice filled with genuine affection.
Not far behind, Daeron, my younger sibling, approached with uncontainable excitement. His laughter echoed through the courtyard as he threw himself into my arms, a hug brimming with brotherly love and unspoken camaraderie.
"By the Seven, look how the mighty dragon lad has grown," I teased, playfully ruffling his hair. Daeron's contagious smile widened, revealing the innocence and pure joy that only a sibling bond could foster.
With our joyful reunion complete, I ascended the remaining steps to where Aegon stood. Our eyes met, and in that moment, the unspoken connection between us spoke volumes. We embraced tightly, the strength of our brotherhood reaffirmed by the sheer force of our hug.
"I missed you, brother," Aegon confessed, his voice carrying a mixture of admiration and longing. I felt my heart swell with affection for my steadfast companion, the one who had always been there to share both triumphs and tribulations.
"And I, you," I replied, my voice filled with heartfelt sincerity.
Together, we stood there, relishing the warmth of our familial bonds. In that embrace, time seemed to stand still, and the weight of the world faded into insignificance.
"Where is Helaena?" I inquired, a sense of longing evident in my voice.
Aegon's face brightened, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his eyes. "She is with the twins," he responded, his tone filled with pride and adoration.
A surge of warmth flooded my heart as I imagined my niece and nephew, the newest additions to our family. I could almost see their cherubic faces and feel their tiny fingers wrapping around mine. "They must be perfect in every way," I exclaimed, a smile spreading across my face.
Aegon chuckled, the laughter reflecting in his eyes. "It seems that becoming a father has indeed brought a newfound maturity to me," he admitted, his voice filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity.
My curiosity shifted to our father, and with a tinge of hesitation, I asked, "And father... how is he?"
A shadow seemed to pass over Aegon's countenance, his expression growing somber. "He is occupied with his kingly duties and will greet you at the feast," he replied curtly, the frustration in his tone unmistakable.
Mother, ever the peacemaker, interjected gently, admonishing Aegon with a soft reprimand. "Aegon," she chided, her voice laced with a gentle plea for understanding.
Trying to fill the void left by Aegon's response, mother continued, her voice filled with warmth and tenderness. "Your father is busy, Aemond. The responsibilities of ruling weigh heavily upon him," she explained, her words a delicate veil shielding me from the bitter reality.
"I understand, Mother," I replied, my voice tinged with both acceptance and a flicker of sadness.
"Now, go and take a bath, for you stink of dragon," Mother playfully scolded, prompting laughter from the others gathered around.
"Indeed, a good soak will do you wonders. And afterward, you can meet your sister and the twins," Aegon added with a mischievous grin.
Making my way to my room, the memories flooded back, transporting me to a time when I had shed tears over my lack of a dragon. How the tables had turned. Now, I basked in the awe-inspiring presence of Vhagar and the joy of witnessing the new generation of dragon riders emerge within our family.
Entering my room, I found the bath already prepared, steam rising from the warm water. The anticipation of its soothing embrace ignited a spark of excitement within me. As I undressed, the memories of my earlier longing for a dragon mingled with a sense of gratitude for the bond I now shared with Vhagar.
"Umm, do you need my help, my prince?" the servant asked, her voice quivering with nervousness.
I smiled reassuringly. "No need," I assured her. "My brother may have asked you to take care of me, but I am old enough to handle a bath myself," I chuckled softly, putting her at ease.
She nodded, her tension dissipating, and left me to enjoy the privacy of my own thoughts. Slipping into the warm embrace of the bath, the fatigue from my arduous journey melted away, replaced by a serene tranquility. The water enveloped me, washing away the dust and weariness, leaving me feeling refreshed and revitalized.
As I soaked in the soothing waters, I reflected on the incredible turn of events that had brought me to this moment. From yearning for a dragon of my own to now riding upon Vhagar's mighty back, the journey had been transformative. It was a testament to the unpredictable nature of life, and the way it could surpass even our wildest dreams.
With each passing moment in the bath, I let go of the burdens of the outside world. The worries and uncertainties that had plagued me during the travels faded into insignificance. Here, in the solitude of the bath, I could focus on the present, embracing the joy of being reunited with my family.
Refreshed both in body and spirit, I emerged from the bath, clothed in fresh attire, ready to embark on the next chapter of my homecoming. As I ventured out to meet my sister and the twins, a sense of anticipation at meeting the twins for the first time hit me.
I knocked gently on my sister's door, and her voice welcomed me inside. Stepping into the room, I immediately noticed the transformation it had undergone. What was once her personal space had now become a part nursery, adorned with delicate furnishings and soft colors. The sight filled me with a sense of awe and warmth, though it also left me slightly perplexed, as this was not the Helaena I remembered.
As she saw me, Helaena hurried over and enveloped me in a tight embrace, mirroring my own gesture of affection. Amidst the embrace, I couldn't help but notice the changes in her. Her eyes, once vibrant with youthful enthusiasm, now held a gentle weariness. Her figure had softened, a testament to the beautiful journey of motherhood she had embarked upon.
"I missed you," she whispered softly, her voice filled with genuine longing.
"I missed you too," I replied, my own words tinged with a mix of joy and curiosity. There was an unspoken understanding between us, a sense that we had both grown and changed during our time apart.
She seemed on the verge of saying something, but before she could, the cries of the twins filled the room. Helaena swiftly made her way to the cot, and I followed in her footsteps. As she lifted one of the babies, I found myself momentarily unable to determine which one was which.
Sensing my confusion, she let out a light laugh. "This little one in my arms is Jaehaera, and the one in the cot is Jaehaerys."
Peering into the cot, I saw Jaehaerys, his little form stirring my heart. It was then that I noticed something different about him—the presence of an extra finger on his left hand and additional toes on both feet. His deep, searching eyes met mine, and I couldn't help but feel an immediate connection.
Helaena gently placed Jaehaera down and handed Jaehaerys to me, guiding me on how to hold him. As he squirmed in my arms, I grew a bit nervous. Yet, with each passing moment, I became more comfortable, finding a rhythm that soothed him.
"See, he likes you," Helaena whispered softly, her words carrying a tender affection.
"He does, indeed. After all, I will be his favorite uncle," I declared, a hint of playful pride coloring my voice. Helaena's laughter filled the room, a sound that resonated deep within my soul.
"You have changed, Aemond," Helaena observed, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and love. "The incident on driftmark altered you, and I am grateful for the person you have become."
I simply smiled, acknowledging the impact the events had on me.
"Please, promise me that you won't leave King's Landing again," she pleaded, tears welling up in her eyes.
I gazed at her, my heart swelling with a newfound determination. "Very well, sister. I won't leave King's Landing. After all, who else will take Jaehaerys for his first dragon ride if not me?" I responded, intertwining love and humor.
Helaena's mock anger melted into laughter, a shared joy that bound us together. In that moment, we realized the strength of our bond, the unbreakable ties of family and the immeasurable love that flowed between us.
I made my way towards the grand hall, my steps purposeful and determined. Daeron followed closely behind, his excitement palpable as he bombarded me with questions about Oldtown and his eagerness to ride Tessarion.
As the grand doors of the hall swung open, revealing the splendor within, I beheld a multitude of nobles and knights gathered for the momentous occasion of the twins' first nameday celebration. The gazes of noble ladies lingered upon me, their curiosity and admiration evident as I navigated through the crowd, guided by a desire to reach my grandfather.
And there he stood, a figure of wisdom and strength, his hand resting gently upon my shoulder. "Aemond," he greeted me, his voice carrying a tone of both warmth and regret.
"Forgive me, for I was unable to greet you this morning," he expressed with a tinge of sorrow in his words.
I offered a reassuring smile. "It is not your fault, grandfather. After all, you carry the weight of the realm upon your shoulders as the Hand of the King, especially with a king who shows little interest in ruling," I replied, a touch of frustration coloring my voice.
Understanding flickered in his eyes, a glimpse of empathy that mirrored my own pain. "Did I ever tell you how, among all my grandchildren, I see myself in you the most?" he confessed.
I listened intently, intrigued by his words. He continued, sharing a piece of his own past. "Just like you, I was the second-born, the spare of Oldtown, as they used to call me before my brother's son Ormond was born. Even my own father did not devote much time to me, as he was focused on instructing my brother, may the Seven rest his soul, in the ways of lordship."
He paused, his gaze reflecting upon the journey that had led him to where he stood now. "So, I turned my attention to other pursuits, nurturing my thirst for knowledge. And now, look where I am—Hand of the King, while my daughter is a queen and my grandchildren, dragonriders and princes of House Targaryen."
A hint of amusement danced in his eyes as he added, "You may think me arrogant for saying so."
A smile tugged at my lips. "Well, I do believe you are entitled to it, grandfather," I replied, appreciating the candidness in his words. "Anyways, I shall go and greet my father now. It seems he is saddened by the fact that my sister could not attend the tourney."
A note of understanding resonated in my grandfather's voice. "Of course, he is. Your father adores your sister," he acknowledged.
I nodded in agreement. "Indeed, he cherishes her dearly."
As I approached the royal dais, I observed my father, slouched in his seat and engrossed in his drink. "My king," I addressed him curtly, my voice filled with a touch of formality.
Upon noticing my presence, he stirred from his stupor. "Ahh, Aemond. It is good to see that you are here," he responded, rising to his feet to embrace me.
"How have you been?" he asked, and for a fleeting moment, his inquiry seemed genuine, kindling a spark of hope within me.
"I have been well, Father," I replied, my words tinged with a hint of excitement, eager to share more with him. Yet, the weight of his disinterest hung heavy upon me, stifling my words before they could escape my lips.
"It is a shame that your sister could not make it. I had hoped for her presence," he lamented with a tinge of sadness in his voice.
"Of course you did," I replied, my voice betraying a sense of disappointment. The memories of the past rushed to the forefront of my mind—Rhaena, her stepdaughter, demanding my head. The chaos that ensued, the chaos my father had swept under the carpet.
"What did you say?" Father inquired, anger flickering in his eyes.
"She is your family, Aemond. Do I make myself clear?" he retorted firmly.
I could feel the frustration boiling within me. The unfairness of it all, how my father seemed to dismiss the threats against my life while chastising me for defending myself. The disappointment in his lack of understanding, of support.
"Sometimes I wonder why I came back to this city," I muttered under my breath, the words dripping with resentment.
Father's gaze hardened, his expression turning cold. Sensing the brewing storm, I turned on my heel, storming out of the hall in a haze of anger and frustration.
As I strode through the corridors, a sense of disillusionment settled within me. The warmth and hope that had briefly flickered in my heart were now extinguished, replaced by a gnawing ache of unmet expectations. It seemed that my father's attention was reserved for others, while my own desires and feelings remained unacknowledged and unvalued.
In that moment, I couldn't help but question my place within the intricate tapestry of our family. Would I forever be the shadow, the afterthought? The weight of those unanswered questions burdened my steps, tugging at the core of my being.
Deep within me, however, a flicker of determination remained. I would forge my own path, regardless of the indifference I faced. I would prove my worth, not for the sake of validation from others, but to fulfill the potential that lay dormant within me.
In the face of adversity, I would rise, fueled by the fire that burned in my heart. And perhaps, one day, my father would come to recognize the strength and resilience that coursed through my veins.
The clash of steel reverberated through the air as my uncle, Gwayne, launched a powerful strike towards me. With lightning reflexes, I narrowly evaded his blade, my body moving with fluidity and grace. The dance of combat unfolded in the clearing, as I skillfully dodged and parried his relentless attacks.
Sensing a momentary falter in his assault, I seized the opportunity, channeling every ounce of my strength into a counterattack. With a surge of determination, I pushed forward, driving Gwayne back step by step. In a sweeping motion, my sword met his, disarming him with a flourish that echoed with the weight of victory.
"Fucking hells, that was amazing, brother!" Aegon's voice filled the clearing as he emerged from the shadows.
Confusion clouded my thoughts as I registered his unexpected presence. "Brother?" I uttered, my voice tinged with surprise and curiosity.
"Where the fuck have you been for the past few days? You've been missing the tournament. And why the fuck are you practicing in the Godswood of all places?" Aegon interrogated me, his words laced with a mix of concern and frustration.
I took a moment to collect myself, the serenity of the Godswood still lingering within me. "Because I needed some peace and quiet," I replied, my voice calm yet resolute.
Aegon nodded, an understanding glinting in his eyes. "You know, I was wondering why your strikes weren't as strong as usual," Ser Criston chimed in, having followed Aegon's lead.
Uncle Gwayne interjected with a knowing smile. "Because he is not using his dominant hand, Ser Criston," he explained, causing a momentary surprise to flicker across Ser Criston's face.
"Fucking hell, man! Did you learn double-handed swordsmanship?" Aegon blurted out, his words laced with both awe and crude language. I winced at his choice of words but couldn't help but shake my head in response.
"Yes, brother, I did," I confessed, a mix of pride and humility coloring my tone
Aegon's curiosity got the better of him. "Since when?" he asked, his eyes fixed on me.
"Since the incident on Driftmark, brother. But it is only recently that I have made enough progress to use my left swordarm effectively," I explained, a hint of solemnity in my voice.
"He will be the warrior reborn, won't he, Ser Criston?" My brother's words filled the air, carrying a sense of awe and admiration. While his high regard made me slightly embarrassed, I couldn't help but appreciate his appreciation.
"If he continues in such a way, then surely he will, my prince," Ser Criston responded with a tone of certainty, his voice echoing the belief in his words.
"You will easily win the squire's melee, brother," Aegon exclaimed confidently.
"He will be the warrior reborn, won't he, Ser Criston?" My brother's words filled the air, carrying a sense of awe and admiration. While his high regard made me slightly embarrassed, I couldn't help but appreciate his appreciation.
"If he continues in such a way, then surely he will, my prince," Ser Criston responded with a tone of certainty, his voice echoing the belief in his words.
"You will easily win the squire melee, brother," Aegon exclaimed confidently.
A mischievous smile played at the corners of my lips as I revealed my unexpected plan. "I won't be participating," I announced, and Aegon's brows furrowed in confusion.
"Then what will you be doing?" he asked, seeking clarity.
"I will be joining the melee," I declared, a twinkle of mischief gleaming in my eyes.
"But isn't one supposed to be a knight to participate?" Aegon questioned, his confusion deepening.
I smirked, relishing in the anticipation of the surprise that awaited. "Well, who doesn't love a mystery knight?" I replied, the implications of my words slowly dawning on him.
Recognition flashed across Aegon's face as he comprehended my plan. His eyes widened, filled with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. The notion of a masked warrior, wielding both skill and anonymity, had ignited a spark of fascination within him.
As I reveled in his realization, a wave of confidence washed over me. The idea of stepping into the melee, disguised and unknown, presented an opportunity to test my mettle in a different light. It allowed me to transcend the expectations placed upon me, to showcase my abilities without the preconceived notions that came with my name.
In the upcoming tournament, I would not be Aemond, the second-born son of the King. Instead, I would become a shadow, a nameless figure whose prowess would speak for itself. The allure of mystery and the thrill of the unknown danced before me, heightening my determination to leave a lasting impression.
The day of the highly anticipated melee had finally arrived, and a mixture of excitement and nerves coursed through my veins. I stood before my uncle as he assisted me in donning the remarkable armor crafted by the skilled artisans of Oldtown.
The armor was a sight to behold, a masterpiece that reflected both elegance and power. Its surface shimmered in a brilliant shade of green, reminiscent of Vhagar's majestic scales. Adorned upon the breastplate was the symbol of a solitary dragon, fierce and mighty, representing the indomitable spirit that burned within me. The helm, a true work of art, boasted intricate engravings of dragon wings, while its menacing visage struck fear into the hearts of all who beheld it.
As my uncle secured the pieces of armor in place, ensuring a perfect fit, I couldn't help but marvel at the craftsmanship. It hugged my form like a second skin, enhancing my presence and lending an air of awe-inspiring authority. However, in the back of my mind, I knew that as I continued to grow taller, a larger suit of armor would eventually be necessary to accommodate my stature. At six feet tall, I was still in the midst of my physical journey.
With the armor fully fastened, I stood tall and proud, the weight of its magnificence both tangible and symbolic. Each piece felt like a shield against doubt and hesitation, fortifying my resolve as I prepared to step onto the battlefield. The embodiment of a dragon, I was ready to unleash my power and prowess upon my opponents.
As the sun's rays danced upon the glistening surface of my armor, a collective gasp escaped the onlookers. Their eyes widened in admiration and awe, drawn to the breathtaking display before them. In that moment, I understood the true impact of wearing such a remarkable suit of armor. It wasn't merely protection or adornment; it was a symbol of the legacy I carried within me, a legacy forged by House Targaryen and etched into the annals of history.
With every breath, I could feel the anticipation building, my nerves gradually transforming into a fiery determination. The grand melee awaited, and I was ready to step into the fray, a dragon reborn, poised to conquer the challenges that lay ahead. The armor, a testament to the strength of my lineage, whispered tales of resilience and triumph, reminding me of the legacy I carried upon my shoulders.
In that moment, I felt a surge of confidence surge through me. The breathtaking armor, a reflection of my inner strength, imbued me with the spirit of the dragon. With each step I took, the ground beneath me trembled with anticipation, echoing the thunderous beat of my heart. The time had come to prove myself, to embody the power and might of House Targaryen, and to leave an indelible mark on the field of battle.
Clad in my resplendent armor, I ventured forth, ready to face the melee with unwavering determination. The stage was set, and all eyes were upon me. It was time to unleash the full force of my abilities and seize the glory that awaited. The world would witness the birth of a true dragon, soaring amidst the chaos and emerging triumphant, leaving a legacy that would resonate throughout the ages.
As I stepped onto the melee grounds, I could sense the gaze of the gathered knights upon me. Their eyes followed my every move as I tightly gripped both of my swords, ready to face the forthcoming challenge.
Whispers rippled through the crowd as the announcer began to declare the names of the renowned knights. However, as the moment arrived for my name to be proclaimed, a hint of hesitation colored the announcer's voice. The crowd grew restless, their curiosity piqued by the enigmatic presence of the mystery knight.
Finally, the announcer's voice boomed through the air, "And now, we have the mysterious knight known as the Green Terror!" A shudder rippled through the spectators, their anticipation mixing with a tinge of trepidation.
Amidst the clamor, the festivities continued, but my attention remained fixed on the royal dais where my family sat. Aegon appeared content, leisurely sipping his wine, while Daeron, brimming with youthful excitement, could hardly contain his eagerness for the melee to commence. Helaena, on the other hand, wore a solemn expression, a veil of melancholy enveloping her.
I made a mental note to speak with Helaena later, sensing that something weighed upon her. However, for now, my focus remained unwavering, my mind set on the imminent melee.
The grandeur of the event seemed to fade into the background as I mentally prepared myself for the challenge that lay ahead. The roar of the crowd and the resonating cheers became distant echoes, overshadowed by the internal fire that burned within me. This was my moment to prove my worth, to etch my name into the annals of history alongside the greatest warriors.
As I stood there, the anticipation coursing through my veins, I embraced the gravity of the occasion. The melee was not merely a physical contest, but a display of skill, determination, and unwavering resolve. It was a test of my mettle, an opportunity to showcase the culmination of my training and the unyielding spirit that resided within.
With each passing moment, the air crackled with anticipation, the atmosphere heavy with the energy of the impending clash. The thrum of adrenaline coursed through my veins, sharpening my senses and heightening my awareness. I took a deep breath, grounding myself in the present, ready to embrace the chaos and uncertainty that awaited.
The time for words had passed, and now, it was the time for action. I glanced once more towards my family, drawing strength from their presence, before focusing my attention on the field.
My heart pounded within my chest as the clamor of the crowd faded into a distant hum. The time had come for the melee, and I stood amidst a field of worthy adversaries, each eager to prove their mettle. Gripping my twin swords tightly, I took a deep breath, centering myself in the midst of the swirling chaos that lay before me.
The first opponent, a knight from the Reach, charged at me with a thunderous roar. His lance aimed true, but with a swift sidestep, I evaded his strike. In one fluid motion, I retaliated, my swords dancing through the air as I delivered a barrage of quick, precise strikes. The clash of steel reverberated through the arena as our blades met, sparks flying in every direction.
Within moments, my first opponent fell, vanquished by the combined force of my dual blades. The crowd erupted in cheers, their roars mingling with the sound of clashing swords. My focus remained unyielding as I scanned the field for my next challenge.
One after another, opponents from the Westerlands, the Stormlands, and the Crownlands approached, each presenting their own unique style and skill. I met them with unwavering determination, my twin swords a whirlwind of deadly precision. With every foe that fell beneath my blades, the crowd's fervor intensified, their cheers becoming a cacophony of awe and admiration.
Hours stretched into eternity as the melee continued, my endurance and agility tested to their limits. My muscles burned with exertion, but I pushed forward, driven by a resolute desire to prove myself on this grand stage. The sun cast its golden rays upon the battlefield, casting long shadows that danced with my every movement.
And then, as if by fate's design, only a single knight of the Kingsguard remained standing before me. Clad in white armor, he exuded an aura of unwavering loyalty and formidable skill. I could sense the weight of his gaze upon me, a silent acknowledgment that this final clash would be the ultimate test of my prowess.
As the crowd held its breath, the tension in the air was palpable. With a nod of mutual respect, we launched into a frenzied duel. Our blades clashed and sang, the metallic symphony echoing through the arena. The Kingsguard knight fought with unwavering dedication, each strike imbued with the strength of his vows.
But I, too, was relentless. I danced around him, my twin swords becoming an extension of my very being. With calculated precision, I exploited every opening, my blades finding their mark with deadly accuracy. The minutes stretched into eternity as we battled, each refusing to yield.
Fatigue threatened to consume me, but I summoned my inner reserve of strength. With a surge of adrenaline, I delivered a flurry of strikes, each one a testament to my training and resolve. The Kingsguard knight fought valiantly, his skills honed through years of rigorous training, but in the end, my relentless assault proved too much to withstand.
With a final, decisive blow, my swords found their mark, and the knight fell to the ground, defeated. The crowd erupted in a thunderous roar, their cheers shaking the very foundations of the arena. I stood there, chest heaving, sweat glistening upon my brow, my heart ablaze with triumph and exhilaration.
As I raised my twin swords triumphantly, the crowd's applause swelled once more, echoing through the realm. The sun, now descending toward the horizon, bathed the arena in a warm, golden glow.
The hushed murmurs of the crowd gradually quieted as Father rose from his seat, his eyes fixed upon me. The weight of his gaze held a mixture of curiosity and intrigue as he spoke, his voice carrying across the arena.
"That was an extraordinary display of skill, mysterious knight. Yet, I am left wondering whether you bear any affiliation with House Targaryen, given the symbol adorning your armor," Father addressed me, his words echoing through the silence.
I took a deep breath, aware that this was the moment I had been waiting for. The moment that would finally grant me the recognition I had yearned for. With a resolute voice, I replied, "Your Grace, I am not a knight of our noble household. In fact, I am not a knight at all."
A wave of astonishment rippled through the crowd, their collective gasps and whispers permeating the air. The revelation ignited a fiery curiosity, as they eagerly awaited my next words, hungry for the truth behind the enigmatic figure that had captivated their attention.
Sensing the anticipation, Father leaned forward, his expression expectant. "And what is it that you seek from me?" he inquired, his eyes narrowing slightly.
My mind raced, my heart pounding within my chest. This was my moment to make my desires known, to demand the acknowledgment that had eluded me for far too long. A surge of determination coursed through my veins as I mustered the courage to speak my truth.
"I wish to be knighted by you, Your Grace," I declared, my voice firm and unwavering.
A murmur swept through the crowd, a blend of surprise, curiosity, and intrigue. The notion of a prince seeking knighthood ignited a mix of admiration and disbelief among the spectators. All eyes were now fixated on Father, waiting for his response, his decision that would shape my future.
Father's gaze lingered upon me, his brows furrowing in contemplation. "Very well," he finally acquiesced. "But first, reveal your true name and unmask yourself.
The tension in the arena intensified as I reached up, slowly removing my helm. My silver hair cascaded around me, the sight shocking the onlookers. The truth was laid bare before them, my identity unveiled with a dramatic flair.
"My name is Prince Aemond Targaryen," I proclaimed, my voice echoing with pride. "Son of King Viserys Targaryen, the first of his name, and of Queen Alicent Targaryen."
A collective gasp resonated through the crowd as tears welled in Mother's eyes. Grandfather beamed with pride, a mix of astonishment and joy playing across his features. Aegon, my brother, wore a wide smile, while Father appeared utterly shocked, his eyes widened in disbelief.
The crowd erupted into a thunderous roar, their cheers and applause reverberating throughout the arena. The air crackled with an electric energy as the realization settled upon them—all this while, they had witnessed a prince, a scion of House Targaryen, vying for recognition and knighthood.
In that moment, I felt a surge of triumph and vindication. The years of yearning for acknowledgment, the battles fought both on the field and within my own heart, had led to this monumental revelation. The enigma of the mysterious knight had been unraveled, replaced by the revelation of my true identity.
As the jubilant celebrations continued around me, I locked eyes with Father. There, in his shocked expression, I glimpsed a spark of something I had longed for—acknowledgment.
With a commanding presence, Father descended from the royal dais, his eyes fixed upon me as he approached the ground. In his hands, he carried Blackfyre, the legendary sword of our ancestors—a symbol of our noble lineage and the weight of our family's legacy. The crowd fell into a reverent silence, their anticipation palpable.
As I knelt before him, my head bowed in humble submission, Father began to speak. His voice carried the weight of authority and wisdom, resonating through the expanse of the arena. The words he uttered were not mere formalities; they were a solemn charge, a sacred oath that would bind me to the ideals of knighthood.
"In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave," he intoned, his voice filled with a commanding strength that echoed in my ears. The weight of those words settled upon my shoulders, igniting a fire within me, a resolve to face any challenge with unwavering courage.
"In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just," Father continued, his voice laced with the weight of responsibility. The expectation to uphold justice and fairness in all my actions weighed heavily upon me, a reminder of the moral compass that guided my newfound knighthood.
"In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent," his voice softened, infused with a tender warmth. The image of mothers and children, the vulnerable and innocent, fueled my determination to be their protector, their shield against the cruelty of the world.
"In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women," he concluded, his words ringing with a profound significance. The charge to safeguard the honor and well-being of women resonated deep within me, a vow to respect and uplift them in a world often plagued by inequality and mistreatment.
In that instant, the hallowed ceremony reached its pinnacle. Father shifted the sword to my left shoulder, a symbol of my new knighthood. With reverence, he uttered the words that would forever seal my destiny.
"Rise, Ser Aemond Targaryen, a knight of House Targaryen," he pronounced.
As I rose, the weight of the honor bestowed upon me settled upon my shoulders. The crowd erupted into thunderous applause, their voices echoing throughout the arena. I stood tall and resolute, the embodiment of the virtues that had been instilled within me.
"Let us raise our goblets, in honor of my brother's glorious victory," Aegon exclaimed, his voice ringing with jubilation as he took another sip of his wine. The crowd around us erupted into cheers and applause, their enthusiasm echoing throughout the great hall.
I turned towards Aegon, a broad smile spreading across my face. The weight of my newly-acquired knighthood still fresh upon my shoulders, I felt a surge of elation and camaraderie. This was a moment of celebration, a time to revel in the triumphs that had brought us together.
Raising my own goblet, I joined Aegon in his toast. "To victory!" I declared, my voice filled with pride and gratitude. The clinking of our goblets resounded amidst the cheering, a harmonious symphony of celebration.
As we drank, the sweet taste of wine danced upon my tongue, fueling the exuberance that permeated the atmosphere. All around us, the revelers joined in, their merriment infectious. Knights, lords, and ladies alike celebrated the glory of the melee, their voices mingling in a joyous chorus.
I caught sight of Mother, her eyes shimmering with pride and joy. Her smile, radiant and full of love, reflected the bond between a mother and her victorious son. Grandfather, too, watched on with a mixture of admiration and contentment, his weathered face etched with a sense of fulfillment.
Amidst the jubilant throng, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for those who had supported me on this arduous journey. The memories of my mentors and allies—High Septon Robyn, Uncle Ormund, and even Helaena—flooded my mind. Their encouragement and guidance had propelled me to this moment of triumph, their belief in my potential unyielding.
As the revelry continued, stories of the melee's epic clashes and valiant deeds filled the air. I listened intently, captivated by the tales of my fellow competitors, the courageous knights from the Reach, the Westerlands, the Stormlands, and the Crownlands. The fierce battles, the clash of swords, and the resounding cheers of victory painted a vivid picture of the spectacle that had unfolded before the crowd.
Amidst the revelry, I caught glimpses of familiar faces—the knights I had bested in combat, their expressions a mixture of admiration and respect. They raised their goblets to me, acknowledging the strength and skill I had displayed, and I reciprocated with a nod of camaraderie.
As the night wore on, the celebrations grew livelier. The feast continued, the tables laden with sumptuous food and fine wines. Musicians played merry tunes, enticing even the most reserved guests to take to the dance floor. Laughter and merriment filled the air, intermingling with the intoxicating aromas and the warmth of camaraderie.
I found myself immersed in this tapestry of celebration, the weight of my newfound knighthood blending harmoniously with the exuberance that permeated the hall. It was a night to remember, a testament to the indomitable spirit of House Targaryen and the resilience that coursed through our veins.
As I raised my goblet once more, I offered a silent toast, not just to my own victory, but to the bonds of family, to the shared triumphs and the unwavering support that had brought us together. In this moment of joy and revelry, I cherished the unity of House Targaryen, grateful for the love and camaraderie that flowed through our veins.
"To victory, to family, and to the indomitable spirit of House Targaryen!" I exclaimed, my voice rising above the cheerful clamor. The crowd joined in, their voices blending together in a resounding cheer that echoed through the night, a testament to the bond that united us all.
"Where are we headed, brother?" I inquired, my curiosity piqued by the mysterious path we were taking.
Aegon's smile widened, a glimmer of excitement dancing in his eyes. "These are the secret passages Maegor the Cruel had built," he replied, his voice tinged with awe. "There are more than a hundred hidden paths within the walls of the Red Keep, each shrouded in its own history."
Together, we ventured through the maze-like corridors, guided by the flickering torchlight that cast eerie shadows upon the ancient stone walls. The air was heavy with the whispers of forgotten tales, as if the very essence of the Red Keep held secrets untold, waiting to be discovered by those who dared to tread its hidden paths.
After what felt like an eternity, we emerged into a corridor that led us to a small, unassuming door. Aegon pushed it open, and I followed him into a world that seemed to exist beyond the realm of the Red Keep. The vibrant Street of Silk unfurled before us, adorned with its opulent mansions and tantalizing secrets.
As we stepped onto the street, the atmosphere transformed. The air became saturated with the scent of exotic perfumes and the melodious hum of laughter and revelry. The mansions lining the thoroughfare displayed vibrant banners and tapestries, shimmering like delicate silk in the gentle breeze. It was a place where indulgence and desire flourished, where pleasure was sought and secrets were whispered.
Curious gazes followed our every step as we strolled along the Street of Silk. The richly dressed inhabitants, both men and women, cast sultry glances and playful smiles our way. The atmosphere crackled with an undercurrent of seduction and allure, as if the very fabric of the street held an irresistible magnetism.
Aegon led me forward with purpose, his confident stride guiding us to a particular establishment. The sign above the entrance read "The House of Kisses," a name that evoked a sense of intimacy and desire. I followed him inside, the door creaking open to reveal a scene of sensuality and passion.
Within the House of Kisses, men and women intertwined in a tapestry of desire, their bodies moving in rhythmic harmony. Soft murmurs of pleasure filled the air, mingling with the sultry melodies drifting from a corner where musicians played tunes that ignited the senses.
Aegon, with an air of familiarity, approached a woman who exuded an aura of authority. She was the proprietor, the mistress of this realm of passion. As they exchanged a few hushed words, I observed the intricate dynamics of desire that unfolded around me. It was a world of unbridled sensuality, where inhibitions were shed and pleasure was sought without reservation.
Though intrigued, I found myself torn between fascination and a sense of unease. This world, so foreign to the chivalrous ideals of knighthood, held a certain allure, but I questioned the compatibility of such desires with my own path and responsibilities.
Aegon, sensing my internal conflict, turned to me with a knowing smile. "Brother, sometimes we must explore the depths of our desires, even if they lie beyond the boundaries of tradition and duty," he said, his words filled with both wisdom and mischief. "It is in these moments of exploration that we truly discover ourselves."
Hearing him I started laughing, "It is a nice jape brother I said, but I should not be here and neither should you. We have a certain responsibility as princes of house Targaryen".
"You sound just like grandfather," he retorted, his tone laced with irritation. A flicker of annoyance flashed across his face as he dismissed my concerns.
"Brother, you have a wife," I persisted, my voice tinged with frustration. "You shouldn't be engaging in such behavior."
He scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Love her?" he sneered, his words dripping with contempt. "As if I could love that bitch."
His callous words struck me like a dagger to the heart. Anger surged through my veins, a fiery mix of protectiveness for Helaena and a simmering resentment toward my brother's indifference.
"How can you speak of your wife that way?" I demanded, my voice shaking with suppressed fury. "She is your partner, your companion. You made vows to cherish and honor her."
Aegon's eyes met mine, his expression hardened. "You think you understand love, Aemond?" he spat, his voice tinged with bitterness. "You, who have never experienced the complexities of a true marriage. You know nothing of the burdens and sacrifices it entails."
His words stung, but I refused to back down. "Love is not a burden, Aegon," I countered, my voice steady but firm. "It is a choice, a commitment to stand by one another through thick and thin. It is about finding solace and strength in each other's arms."
Aegon's eyes narrowed, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling within them. "You speak as if you know everything," he retorted, his voice laced with defiance. "But you have yet to learn the realities of life, of marriage."
I took a deep breath, seeking to regain my composure. "Perhaps you are right, Aegon," I said, my voice softer now, filled with a mix of sadness and understanding. "I may not have experienced the complexities of marriage, but I have witnessed the pain that can arise from broken vows, from neglecting the bond that should be cherished."
A flicker of vulnerability flashed across Aegon's face, but he quickly masked it with a hardened facade. "You think you can judge me?" he challenged, his voice tinged with defiance.
"Especially after she fell in love with that fucking peasant who calls himself a knight," he sneered, his voice laced with venom and resentment. The bitterness in his words hung heavy in the air, a dark cloud overshadowing our conversation.
Before I could respond, a woman's voice pierced through the tension, drawing our attention. We turned to face her, and I found myself captivated by her beauty. Her dark brown hair cascaded in waves, framing her delicate features. In her arms, she cradled a babe, a living testament to the secrets that had remained hidden.
"Prince Aegon," she began, her voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and hope. "I wanted to show him to you, Egg."
My heart skipped a beat as the truth unravelled before us. The babe's silver hair and piercing violet eyes bore a striking resemblance to our own Targaryen lineage. It was a revelation that sent shockwaves through my being, a revelation that spoke of forbidden desires and the consequences of our actions.
"What is the meaning of this?" I asked, my voice betraying a mix of confusion and disbelief.
Her gaze met mine, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "I am just a whore, my prince," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of her circumstance. "But this child, he is yours."
Silence engulfed the chamber as her words hung in the air, the gravity of the situation sinking in. My mind raced, grappling with the implications of this revelation. Aegon's eyes narrowed, his face contorted with anger and disdain.
Without warning, he reached into his purse and tossed a handful of coins at her feet. "Take this," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Get the fuck out of my sight. If I ever see you again, I'll fucking gut you."
The room fell into a heavy silence, the darkness of the moment casting a shadow over our souls. The weight of our actions hung heavy upon us, as the consequences of our desires had unraveled in a devastating revelation.
I felt a surge of anger rise within me, fueled by the cruelty and callousness of my brother's actions. But amid the darkness, a flicker of compassion and responsibility tugged at my conscience. I took a step forward, determined to confront Aegon, to demand accountability for the life that now hung in the balance.
"Aegon, this child is your blood," I said, my voice filled with a mix of sadness and urgency. "You cannot turn your back on him. He is innocent, and he deserves a chance at life."
"I know this is not like you, Aegon," I pleaded, my voice filled with concern and desperation. "You are a good man, and this behavior is not a reflection of who you truly are. Please, don't let your anger and the influence of alcohol cloud your judgment."
He scoffed, his gaze cold and distant. "How the fuck do you think you know me, huh?" he retorted, his voice dripping with bitterness. "You were barely tolerable when you were a kid, always whining and crying about not having a dragon. And now that you have the biggest one in the world, you act so fucking mighty."
My heart sank at his words, the weight of his resentment crashing down upon me. I struggled to find the right response, to make him see reason, but the pain in his eyes spoke volumes. It was a pain that ran deeper than the surface, rooted in wounds that had festered over time.
"Do not forget how you took that girl's eye for no reason," he added, his voice laced with accusation, his gaze unyielding.
A surge of guilt washed over me as the memory resurfaced, a regrettable incident from our past. I had allowed my anger and frustration to consume me, leading to an act of violence that I now regretted deeply. It was a reminder of the darkness that existed within me, a darkness that I had fought hard to overcome.
As the woman left, disappearing into the depths of the establishment, Aegon turned and made his way into one of the dimly lit rooms. I stood there for a moment, the weight of the encounter heavy upon me, before deciding it was time to return to the keep.
As I made my way back, the cool night air brushed against my face, carrying with it a sense of introspection. Thoughts swirled in my mind, a tumultuous mix of confusion, disappointment, and concern for my brother. The encounter with the woman had unveiled a side of him that I had never truly glimpsed before, a dark and callous aspect that shattered the image of the brother I once knew.
Entering the keep, I ascended the familiar staircases, each step echoing with a sense of melancholy. The corridors felt emptier, devoid of the warmth and laughter that usually filled the air. Finally, I reached my room, my sanctuary amidst the chaos of the world.
As I entered, my eyes fell upon Helaena, who had been patiently waiting for my return. Her presence brought a small glimmer of comfort, a reminder of the family ties that still bound us together.
She looked up, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and curiosity. "Aemond, where have you been?" she asked softly.
The woman left, disappearing into the depths of the night, and I stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the encounter settle upon my conscience. As she departed, Aegon's footsteps echoed down the corridor, leading me back to the keep. I retraced my steps, lost in a swirl of conflicting emotions.
Returning to my room, I found Helaena waiting for me. The sight of her brought a mix of relief and guilt. I sighed, the heavy weight upon my shoulders becoming even more pronounced. How could I face her, knowing what I had just witnessed? How could I possibly explain the actions of my own brother, the man she had married?
Hesitant and burdened, I closed the door behind me, locking away the turmoil of the outside world. Helaena looked at me, concern etched across her delicate features. She had always been perceptive, able to sense when something troubled me.
"What happened, Aemond?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
I took a deep breath, trying to gather my thoughts and find the right words. I recounted the events that had transpired, the surprise Aegon had planned, and the revelation that had unfolded in the depths of the House of Kisses. Each word carried a weight that threatened to suffocate me, but I knew I had to be honest with Helaena.
"Aegon took me to a brothel," I confessed, my voice heavy with regret. "There, we encountered a woman. She revealed that the child she had with her was his, our blood."
"I cannot fathom the depths of his actions," I continued, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness. "He treated her with such cruelty, as if she were nothing more than a disposable object. It was a scene of darkness and despair, and I cannot help but feel stained by its presence."
As I looked up, searching for any hint of the pain that must have been ravaging Helaena's heart, I was met with a surprising indifference. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a side of her that I had never truly seen before. The words she spoke struck me like a dagger to the heart.
"I guess you are finally getting to know the true side of our brother, Aemond," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "He was always like this, but he hid it well, hiding behind the facade of a loving brother."
The realization hit me like a thunderclap. Aegon had deceived us all, his true nature hidden beneath layers of charm and charisma. I felt a mix of anger, betrayal, and sorrow welling up within me. How could I have been so blind to his true intentions? And more importantly, how had Helaena endured this façade for so long?
"I do not love him," she said, her voice carrying a sense of finality. The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, the truth of her feelings crashing down upon me.
"He said that you were in love with a knight," I uttered, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. The name that hung unspoken between us, the name that held the power to shatter our world.
Helaena turned her face away, unable to meet my gaze. The silence that followed was suffocating, the weight of her admission pressing upon us both.
"It's Ulf, isn't it?" I gasped, the truth piercing through me like a dagger. The realization of her love for another, a knight, someone outside the boundaries of our tumultuous family, shook me to my core.
A soft, almost imperceptible nod confirmed my suspicions. The air between us grew heavy, a mixture of anguish and acceptance settling upon us. It was a revelation that held the power to change everything, to reshape the course of our lives and the destiny of our family.
"Helena," I said, my voice laced with a mix of concern and compassion, "I cannot pretend to understand the complexity of your emotions or the struggles you have endured. But know that I am here for you, now and always. We will find a way through this storm, together."
She turned to face me, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. In that moment, I saw a vulnerability I had never witnessed before, a crack in the armor she had worn to protect herself from the pain inflicted upon her by Aegon's betrayal.
"I never asked for this, Aemond," she whispered, her voice filled with a raw honesty. "I never wished to be trapped in a loveless marriage, bound to a man who cares for nothing but his own desires. Ulf, he showed me a different kind of love, a love that was pure and true."
The weight of Helaena's revelations settled upon me, casting a somber shadow over our conversation. As she spoke of her forbidden love for Ulf and the desperate plea she had made for him to whisk her away from the shackles of a loveless marriage, I couldn't help but feel a surge of empathy for her plight. The cruel reality of their circumstances pierced through my heart, like a dagger coated in sorrow.
"I never asked for this," she uttered, her voice trembling with a mix of regret and anguish. "On the day of my wedding, I implored him to run away with me, to escape the chains that bound us. But he couldn't, Aemond. He couldn't forsake his own sense of honor, his duty as a knight."
The weight of her words hung heavily in the air, the pain of missed opportunities and shattered dreams palpable in every syllable. I listened intently, silently absorbing the depths of her heartache.
"And the things I said to him... they were cruel," she continued, her voice laced with remorse. "I said words that cut deep, words that I can never take back. I broke something in him, just as he broke something in me. It's a pain that lingers, an ache that refuses to fade."
"Then It was the bedding Aemond" she said softly.
"Aegon forced himself on me and I couldn't do anything but endure his touch and I still feel my skin crawl thinking about that night", she said with tears in her eyes.
"I loathe him, Aemond, I truly do," she confessed, her voice choked with a mixture of anger and sorrow. "But life is unfair, and we must bear the scars it inflicts upon us."
Her resilience in the face of such adversity astounded me. The strength she mustered to carry on, to protect the two innocent lives she cherished, was a testament to her indomitable spirit. Despite the darkness that clouded her world, Helaena found solace and purpose in her children, their presence a beacon of light in the midst of her pain.
I couldn't help but feel my heart break for her, for the torment she had endured in silence. The weight of her suffering pressed upon me, a suffocating heaviness that threatened to consume us both. It was a reminder of the cruel twists of fate that often befell the innocent, leaving scars that no passage of time could fully heal.
"Has he ever hit you?" I asked, my voice laced with concern, searching for any signs of physical abuse.
"No," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"In the past year , he has not even visited my chamber to sleep. He reserves his presence solely for the twins, choosing to engage in dalliances with whores and noble ladies who vie for his attention."
"I am sorry for leaving you alone, Helaena," I whispered, the words heavy with regret. I reached out and gently embraced her, holding her close as tears streamed down her face. In that moment, I could feel the weight of her sorrow, the burden she had carried alone for far too long.
"I promise, Helaena," I continued, my voice filled with determination. "I will never leave you or the twins again. We are family, and family stands together, through the darkest of times."
She clung to me, her sobs shaking her body, as if the floodgates of her emotions had been released. And I held her, offering a steady presence amidst the turmoil. In that embrace, I sought to convey my unwavering support, the reassurance that she would never face her struggles alone.
I held her gaze, my resolve strengthening with every passing moment. "I am here for you, Helaena," I repeated, my voice filled with determination. "I will be the brother you need, the one who will stand by you through thick and thin. Together, we will face the challenges that lie ahead, no matter how daunting they may be."
In that instant, a newfound strength surged through my veins, fueled by love and a fierce sense of protection. I vowed to shield my sister and the precious lives she held in her arms from the perils that surrounded us. No longer would I allow the indifference of our father or the darkness of our past to define us. We were united, a force that would defy all odds.
From that day forward, Helaena, the twins, Daeron, and Mother became my anchor, my reason to fight against the encroaching shadows. I would stop at nothing to ensure their safety and well-being, for they were the embodiment of hope in a world teetering on the brink of despair.
I would be the one to light the way ahead, forging a path through the darkness with unwavering resolve. My family's safety and well-being were my utmost priority, and I would stop at nothing to ensure their happiness and security.
With each passing day, I trained tirelessly, honing my skills as a knight and mastering the art of combat. My twin swords became an extension of myself, swift and deadly in their execution. I sought guidance from seasoned warriors, learning from their expertise and adopting their techniques into my own fighting style. I pushed my body to its limits, relentlessly striving for perfection.
Because I am the Green Terror, I would become more than just a fearsome warrior on the battlefield. I would become a symbol of unwavering dedication and unyielding protection. My name would strike fear into the hearts of those who threatened the ones I loved, for they knew that I would stop at nothing to ensure their safety.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder