章節 15: | Chapter 15: The Blade Within |

× × × ×

. . .

. .

| Aegon Targaryen - 1st Person Pov |

. .

. . .

The morning air was sharp, biting against my skin as I stepped into the large training yard.

The sun had barely risen, its pale light casting long shadows across the stone walls of the palace. I could hear the distant murmurs of the palace waking up,— the clatter of servants beginning their work, the low hum of courtiers already whispering about the day's politics.

But here, in the quiet of the yard, those noises felt distant. This place, with its worn cobblestones and the scent of steel in the air, was where I had come to find focus. Where Shen Dao's lessons had begun to shape me into something more than just a boy with a claim.

I wasn't just training to wield a sword.

I was training to become someone worth following,— someone worth fighting for. But that path, I knew, was still filled with challenges I wasn't yet prepared for.

My teacher, Shen Dao was already there, waiting for me with his usual quiet intensity.

He stood by the rack of weapons, his weathered hands folded behind his back, his eyes fixed on me as I approached. His face, always calm, held a hint of something more today,— something expectant.

"You're late." he said without preamble, his voice carrying that familiar edge of disapproval.

I wasn't late, not really. But to Shen Dao, any moment wasted was a moment of weakness.

"I was reflecting." I replied, meeting his gaze.

He raised an eyebrow, the faintest flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Reflection is valuable. But there is a time for reflection and a time for action. Right now is not a moment for reflection."

Without another word, he gestured toward the practice weapons,— two blades, long and curved, each with a blackened hilt wrapped tightly in leather. I had been training with a single sword for months now, mastering the techniques that Shen Dao had drilled into me.

But these… these were new.

"Dual blades?" I asked, stepping closer to the weapons. The steel gleamed faintly in the morning light, and as I reached out to take one in hand, I could feel the balance in the blade, the way it wanted to move with me, not against me.

Shen Dao nodded, his expression unreadable. "You've shown skill with a single blade, but true mastery requires adaptability. The world will not always fight you in ways you expect."

I picked up the second blade, feeling the weight of both weapons in my hands. It was strange at first,— holding two weapons instead of one,— but as I adjusted my grip, a sense of balance settled over me. The blades felt natural, as if they were extensions of my arms.

Shen Dao moved to the center of the yard, his robes flowing behind him like a shadow. "Before we begin, you must understand this: the blade is only as strong as the mind that wields it. If your mind is divided, if your thoughts are clouded by fear, doubt, or anger, then the blade will betray you."

He raised his own sword,— a simple, unadorned weapon, but in his hands, it was a deadly tool. "Combat is not just about strength. It is about control. You must master yourself before you can master your enemies."

I took a deep breath, centering myself as Shen Dao had taught me. My fingers tightened around the hilts of the blades, and I moved toward him, my steps deliberate, measured.

He waited, his stance relaxed but ready.

Shen Dao never wasted energy, never moved unless it was necessary. He had spent years perfecting his craft, and now he was teaching me to do the same.

Our blades met with a sharp ring of steel, and the force of the impact reverberated up my arms.

I shifted my stance, swinging one blade toward his side while the other angled for his shoulder, but Shen Dao was faster. He deflected both strikes with a fluid motion, his movements precise, controlled.

"Too slow." he said, his voice calm as ever. "Your mind is still divided."

I gritted my teeth, stepping back to reassess.

My arms were already beginning to ache from the unfamiliar weight of the dual blades, but I pushed the discomfort aside. Focus.

That's what Shen Dao had taught me. I needed to focus.

Again, I moved in, this time more cautiously. I swung one blade low, the other high, trying to catch him off guard, but Shen Dao was always a step ahead. He blocked each strike with ease, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Your movements are predictable." he said, stepping back and lowering his blade.

"You're thinking too much about the weapons in your hands. Let the blades flow with you, not against you."

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my mind. It was easier said than done.

The weight of the blades, the pressure of Shen Dao's eyes on me, the lingering thoughts of everything I had to become,— they were all distractions, pulling my mind in a dozen different directions.

But I couldn't afford distractions. Not here.

Not in the life that awaited me beyond these walls.

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the world around me fall away. The wind brushed against my skin, the smell of steel and sweat filled the air, but I pushed it all aside.

Focus.

The blades weren't weapons,— they were extensions of me, of my body, my mind.

When I opened my eyes again, Shen Dao was watching me closely, his expression unreadable. I stepped forward, my movements smoother this time, more natural. My blades moved together, flowing in sync with the rhythm of my body.

And this time, when I struck, I felt the difference.

Shen Dao blocked my first strike, but I was ready. My second blade came in fast, slipping past his defense and grazing his side. He stepped back, his eyes narrowing slightly, but there was a flicker of approval in his gaze.

"Better." he said quietly. "But you still lack control."

I wiped the sweat from my brow, breathing heavily. "What do you mean?"

Shen Dao lowered his blade, watching me closely. "Control does not come from the body alone. It comes from the mind. Discipline. Focus. That is what separates a master from a novice."

He paused, his gaze hardening. "The greatest threat to a ruler does not come from external enemies. It comes from within. Fear. Doubt. Anger. These are the enemies you must master before you can hope to rule others."

His words struck me harder than the sword ever could.

I had been training for months now, sharpening my physical abilities, learning how to fight, how to defend myself. But Shen Dao's lesson was something more. It was about mastering the self, about understanding that the true battle wasn't just on the battlefield,— it was in my mind.

"How do I do that?" I asked, my voice quieter now.

Shen Dao studied me for a long moment before answering. "You begin by recognizing your weaknesses. You have learned much since we started, but there is still a part of you that doubts. A part of you that is not sure of your place in this world."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he raised a hand to stop me. "You will never truly master yourself until you confront that doubt. Until you stop questioning who you are and start becoming who you are meant to be."

His words hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning.

I had spent so long under Jia's guidance, learning from her, trusting her. But now, as I grew stronger, as I learned more about the world and about myself, I was beginning to question whether her path was the only path.

Whether I was still her studen,t— or something more.

The lessons Shen Dao taught me were about more than just combat. They were about becoming something greater, something independent.

For the first time, I realized that my future wasn't bound by anyone else's expectations,— not even Jia's.

"I think I understand it now." I said, my voice steady.

Shen Dao nodded, but his gaze remained sharp. "Good. Now, show me."

I tightened my grip on the blades and moved forward, the weight of them feeling lighter in my hands. This time, my strikes were faster, more fluid. I wasn't thinking about the weapons anymore,— I was letting them move with me, becoming an extension of my mind.

Shen Dao blocked my strikes, but this time, there was less resistance. I could feel the flow of the battle, the rhythm of our movements. And when I struck again, I did so with purpose, not just force.

Our blades clashed, but I was no longer fighting just to land a blow. I was fighting with control, with focus.

The fight continued for what felt like hours, the sound of steel ringing through the air, but I never lost my rhythm.

My body ached, my muscles burned, but I didn't stop. I couldn't stop. This was more than training now,— it was a test for myself.

Finally, Shen Dao stepped back, lowering his blade. He regarded me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"You're beginning to understand." he said quietly.

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, lowering my own blades as the tension in my body eased.

"You still have much to learn, however." Shen Dao continued, his voice firm but not unkind. "But you've taken the first steps toward mastery. The blade in your hand is nothing without the blade in your mind. And the blade in your mind is nothing without the strength to wield it."

I looked down at the two swords in my hands, the weight of his words sinking in.

This wasn't just about learning how to fight, how to win battles. It was about controlling the part of me that had always felt out of place, the part that was searching for more than just survival.

The blade within.

Shen Dao's teachings were different from anything Jia had shown me. While she taught me to think ahead, to play the long game, Shen Dao focused on the moment,— the discipline to be present, to act with clarity, and the strength to command yourself before commanding others.

"You spoke of doubt." I said, my voice quiet but curious. "But how do I master something that is inside me? How do I defeat an enemy I can't see?"

Shen Dao's eyes softened, but there was a hardness behind them,— one forged by years of discipline and wisdom. "You do not defeat doubt by fighting it, Aegon. You defeat it by understanding it. By recognizing that doubt is part of every ruler, every warrior. It is not the doubt itself that is the problem. It is letting it control you."

He paused, stepping closer to me, his voice lowering. "There will always be uncertainty. But when you rule, you must project strength, not just for yourself, but for those who follow you. They will doubt you. And if they see that doubt reflected in your eyes, they will falter. You must carry the weight of their fears as well as your own. And you cannot allow that weight to break you."

I held his gaze, feeling the gravity of his words. The doubts within me weren't just about my place in Yi Ti or under Jia's guidance,— they were about Westeros, about the Iron Throne, about whether I could ever truly be the king I was born to be.

I had spent so much time preparing for the future, but now that it was drawing closer, the weight of it pressed down on me more than ever.

What if I failed? What if I wasn't enough?

Shen Dao's lessons weren't just about combat,— they were about preparing me for the battles inside my own mind. The wars that no sword or shield could defend against.

And those battles would be the hardest to win.

"I've learned much from you." I said, my voice steady. "But there's still more I need to understand. More I need to know before I can lead."

Shen Dao nodded, his expression softening for the first time. "You are beginning to see, Aegon. True mastery takes more than strength. It takes patience, understanding. You will learn, but you must be willing to confront the truths within yourself that you've kept hidden."

He stepped back, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Today's lesson is done. Tomorrow, we will continue. But tonight, I want you to reflect,— not just on the blades, but on the why behind every move you make. Every strike must have a purpose. Every decision must have a reason."

I nodded, my mind already swirling with thoughts of what he meant.

Why.

The question echoed in my mind as I lowered the swords and placed them back on the rack. Why had I come this far? Why was I preparing for a future I wasn't sure I even fully understood?

I watched as Shen Dao turned and walked away, his steps light and fluid as he disappeared into the palace corridors. The sound of his footsteps faded, leaving me alone in the quiet of the training yard.

The air had grown colder, the sunlight fading behind the palace walls as the day gave way to evening. The shadows stretched longer now, creeping over the stones like fingers reaching for something unseen.

I remained where I stood, staring at the empty space before me, feeling the weight of everything Shen Dao had said. There was truth in his words, a truth I hadn't yet fully grasped.

But I was beginning to.

As I turned to leave the yard, the familiar feeling of unease crept into my chest. It had been there for days now, growing stronger with each passing hour. The more I learned, the more I trained, the more I began to see the world beyond Jia's influence.

I had relied on her for so long, trusted her guidance, her plans for me.

But now, as I grew stronger, as I began to question my place here, I wondered if Jia's vision for my future aligned with my own.

She had always taught me to think of the long game, to move carefully, but Shen Dao's lessons were teaching me something else,— something that felt more immediate, more personal.

It wasn't just about waiting for the right moment to act. It was about knowing why I wanted to act. What I wanted to become.

Who I wanted to be.

I made my way through the palace, my footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. The flicker of torchlight cast a soft, golden glow against the stone walls, but even the warmth of the light couldn't chase away the chill in my mind.

I thought of Jia,— her control, her influence.

The way she moved through the court like a shadow, guiding events without ever stepping fully into the light. I had admired that once, had even tried to emulate it. But now I wasn't sure if that was the path I wanted to follow.

Ruling from the shadows was a way to survive, yes. But was it the way to truly lead?

I stopped at one of the palace windows, the cool night air brushing against my face as I looked out over the city of Xia Quo. The lights of the city twinkled in the distance, a reminder of the world beyond these walls,— a world that was waiting for me, whether I was ready or not.

Yi Ti had been my home for years, but it wasn't my destiny.

Westeros was. The Iron Throne was.

And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that waiting,— as Jia had always instructed,— was no longer enough.

I had spent so much preparing for a future that seemed so distant, but now, I could feel it drawing closer, like a storm on the horizon.

I wasn't just a boy with a claim anymore. I was becoming something more. And I needed to start acting like it.

But there was still one question that gnawed at me, one that I hadn't yet found the answer to.

Who would I be when I returned to Westeros?

Would I be Aegon Targaryen, the boy king, raised in exile and guided by others? Or would I be Aegon, the dragon, the ruler who forged his own path, who didn't wait for others to tell him when to act?

The answers weren't clear yet. But I knew one thing: I couldn't stay in the shadows forever. I had to find my own way forward, even if it meant stepping away from the people who had guided me this far.

As I stood there, staring out into the dark, I felt the first stirrings of something new,— something powerful, burning deep inside me. It wasn't fear, or doubt, or uncertainty.

It was determination.

× × × ×