Aenyx heard the echoed sound of falling water as he opened his eyes. Regaining his consciousness, he realised he was lying in a void of space. There was only an astral atmosphere with starry beings flying all around, almost like a grand planetarium, a real one at that. He walked through and felt the ground even though there were none. Bemused, he tried to reach his hands for the stars, only to fail. He realised there were farther than his mind could discern. He turned around and saw the stars reproduce over where his eyes headed. He touched his cheeks to see if he could still feel. He was not dead, he concluded.

"Greetings, benighted ape." said a voice, annoyed and bored. Aenyx turned to the source. A large silver-coloured rectangle, flat and plain, floating in the air.

"I do not reckon using drugs," said Aenyx in a high-pitched voice. Shocked, he put his hand on his larynx.

"You must be in my place to realise how annoying that voice of yours sounds." said the rectangle.

"Wh-wh-what's going on?" said Aenyx, stammered and high pitched. He pursed his lips. He was very irritated that his voice was like breaking of thousand glasses simultaneously.

"You're in a state of Astral projection. When you, on purpose, manipulate your sense of reality into releasing your mind into vivid imagination. Meaning you are living an out-of-body experience, sans intentional." He chuckled at the last part. It all seemed very amusing and boring to him at the same time.

"I mean, sure, why not. I don't know what's real or what's not since I don't have a sense of sanity anymore." Aenyx admitted. Still not comfortable with his voice.

"You sure don't." the rectangle agreed.

"So..." Aenyx studied the rectangle. "What's going on with you?"

"I'm here to bestow upon you the meaning of life," he said mockingly. That got Aenyx a stern face, not entertained by his jest. "You're exhausting to deal with, by the way. The worst person imaginable. To think my people chose you, ugh!" the rectangle insulted.

"I suddenly don't want to be in this void anymore," said Aenyx as he went to find a way out. He saw two doors not far from him, one white and one black. He wondered why there were two doors but not a wall.

"Oh! a dilemma. Let's see..." the rectangle thought for a second. "Left. You will choose the white door because it resembles a familiar feeling."

Aenyx calmed his anger and smiled at the rectangle. "You would know that wouldn't you?" the rectangle flashed. Aenyx took that as a yes. "which means you purposefully coloured the door white." he walked to the door. "But you put the door on the left side of where we're standing or floating in your case. 'Left' has an implication. It's the opposite of right, which is considered the path to holiness. Hell, we have words for that, Righteousness, The right side, the right man. All these words imply that the subject in question is just. Which leads me to the second door." he walked to the black door. "You purposefully cloured this door black because you know black is a reminder of grief and grim. But you put it in the right to imply that the white door is nought but a trick. To lead me into thinking that the black one is the exit. But neither one are." he spoke faster. "Because there is no exit that you wouldn't cover because you purposefully put these doors here because you knew I wouldn't fall into your tricks because I'm not a buffoon, you senseless rectangle," he yelled the last part.

The rectangle flashed as he laughed. "They were right. you are a manipulative maniac without any sense of morality whatsoever."

"I beg your pardon?" Aenyx asked confusedly.

"Alright, you oaf, brace yourself. We have some work to do." as he said that, the doors disappeared. "Firstly, you're not good enough, did you know that?"

"On what scope?" Aenyx asked frustratedly.

"Everybody has their wits together, expect YOU." the rectangle emphasised on 'you'.

"What does everybody means in this sentence?" Aenyx asked again.

"Now I have some advice for you, which you will listen to and will do so," he ordered. "First and foremost, keep an eye on your brother, the silver hair one," he said threateningly.

"I AM planning to keep an eye on the incest abomination," Aenyx assured him.

"You're incest too."

"My ANCESTOR was incest. There's at least three-generation difference."

"Fine. nex.." He was interrupted by an explosion next to him in which a golden rectangle appeared. "Did you get the horn?" asked the golden one.

"I-I-I don't..." Aenyx stammered.

"What are you talking about?" asked the silver.

"The horn I tasked you to get. did you acquire it?" said the golden frowning

"What horn..."

"The girl grows more powerful day by day. she has found a father figure in the old man and is about to discover the power of friendship with the slave girl and the creep who's very much in love with her." the golden stated.

"I think you're in the wrong place." said the silver.

"If she getswait what?" the golden turned to the silver. "Who's this dream for?" he asked.

"Hello there. The name's Aenyx," said Aenyx as he waved his hand.

"Aenyx, eh?" said the golden. "Do you, by any chance, know a Daenerys Targaryen?" he asked.

"My list of people is rather short." Aenyx thought for a moment. "Daenerys Targaryen doesn't ring a bell."

"Oh. That's awkward." He turned to the silver. "Is he performing well?" he asked.

"Nah, he's an idiot."

"Huh. Idiot humans. They're all over the place." he laughed. "Well, goodby then," he said as he disappeared.

Silence fell between the two till the rectangle spoke: "I'm a manifestation of the thing that brought you here, by the way."

"I figured that out," Aenyx admitted. Suddenly, a loud noise filled his ears as his vision went black.

-

Aenyx opened his eyes in horror and sat abed. He wondered about his dream or out-of-body experience. It was the kind of thing you only get if you drank the right amount of alcohol. Two talking rectangles. And I thought I hadn't lost all of my sanity. He thought through the silver's advice. Could his brother be a ruthless kinslayer? He tried to picture his brother, but no image formed in his mind. He does not know this Dearon (they call him that), beyond the fact that he's the king and is born of incest. He doesn't know any of his half-siblings at all. They couldn't possibly occur as a problem, right? They're all children, the little people. I don't have a sibling duty to them, technically speaking. He wondered about the man that begot him, this Aegon, notorious for siring children. He probably was a lustful miser, mayhaps a handsome one? Mertha, Aenyx's mother, was incredibly naive, but Aegon couldn't just seduce all of his mistresses out of their naivety; he should have had something to offer in return.

The silver rectangle called Aenyx a 'manipulative maniac'. Was that a compliment? In these few days that Aenyx was living in this supposed new world, he enjoyed leading Aradrin Celtigar and Valter Mooton into his grasp. It came costly for him, however. In Valter's case, their ship crashed with those damned spears leading Aenyx to the nightmare that was Claw Isle. In Aradrin's case, well, he somehow led him to his death. If Aenyx didn't insist on getting information on Cedryc Celtigar, he would never get Aradrin drunk. Now, he was dead. Unfortunately, his information on the grim lord was useless to Aenyx, unless Cedryc Celtigar is indeed a sorcerer. Frankly, Aenyx would've rathered if Aradrin would make it alive, but it was not to be. Now he doesn't know if Cedryc has a grudge over him or not; he didn't cry when he learnt the passing of his son. He should at least get worried; his succession is now up to chaos. Aenyx now has more questions about Cedryc than answers.

Then there's Ser Donatyon Selvy and Valter Mooton, his two royal companions. Aenyx couldn't help but feel pity for Ser Selvy; the man was serious but sincere. And he was stuck with Aenyx. Valter on the other hand is for sure a high-functional sociopath; he wasn't shocked when three men killed themselves in front of him. And for god's sake, he throws Viking-Gladiator competitions. Aenyx couldn't help but wonder why he is intending to stay in King's Landing? His mission was to deliver Aenyx and then return but suddenly, he wants to stay.

In the end, Aenyx decided it was high time to accept that he's living another life and try to have a purpose or a goal to pursue. He couldn't just stick around and let these facts eat his sanity; he shall win. To feel a victory and to achieve that, he has to learn the rules of this world. He has learnt that people here are still in a medieval period. He could get used to that. But to survive, he should find some allies. Valter is unpredictable, not good to rely upon, but he does bring ships of Maidenpool. Ser Selvy is royal. Cedryc is on the blacklist; that man is not to be trusted. He's yet to meet The king, but if the situation turned unfavoured to Aenyx, he could always run away from anything, probably.

Aenyx has so many thoughts to think about, but the time for that will come. For now, he should get aboard and get information about the king. Thus, he changed and went to find Ser Selvy. He was in the deck, sharping his sword. "Ser Selvy." cried Aenyx.

"My prince." said the knight as he bowed.

Aenyx looked at the sword. "What are you doing ser?" he asked.

"Sharping my sword, your grace. A knight must have his sword keen," he answered.

"Don't you have a squire to do that for you?" Aenyx knew, at least in his world, it was common for knights to have squires. He thought about 'Don Quixote'; it was the only book about knights he ever read. It is a story from a very old time so it counts.

"I have one, my prince. But I left him with the party back in Darrynborough. Don't you remember? We ran in a different direction." he said warmly. Aenyx could see that the knight wasn't frustrated with him. Thank god for that.

"Why you keep calling me prince, Ser Selvy?" asked Aenyx. He was leading the conversation to Daeron and his personality.

"Why, because you are of loyal blood, your grace," he answered.

"But I am a bastard," stated Aenyx. he wanted to know if the legitimisation bothered Dearon.

"King Aegon legitimised you as his son, even if the dowager queen did not birth." his voice saddened when he spoke of the dowager queen. The knight and the princess, in this case, queen. How classic. Aenyx assumed.

"What is the opinion of King Daeron on this matter?" asked Aenyx.

"You'd better ask Lord Celtigar; he was his vassal when the king was the crown prince. I can not say anything about him for I have never talked to him, my prince. He is said to be kind and eloquent. He favours books over swords, for that; he has a genius mind if the words of the servants are to be believed." said Ser Selvy. Aenyx thought about his words but not on the parts about Daeron, but the ones when he mentioned the servants of, presumably, King's Landing. Did Ser Selvy live in King's Landing? Now that I think about it, I do not know anything about my sworn knight.

"Can I be assured that the king wouldn't have me killed?" asked Aenyx.

Donatyon chuckled. "There's no sin higher than kinslaying, my prince. Even if your brother came to hate you, he would not dare grant you death."

"But it has happened before, has it not?" Aenyx knew sin or not; people are mighty of homicide. Perhaps they would doubt themselves when it comes to parricide, but even then, the flames of hate, or dreams of power, would lead their doubt to die. Where does your 'kinship' with someone come when the blood in your eyes has your mind blind?

Ser Selvy, his face a painting of uneasiness, sighed. "It has, my prince. In your family, no less. Aemond Targaryen, the cousin to your grandfather, the late King Viserys, murdered his nephew, his great aunt and supposedly his uncle."

"Supposedly?"

"In the duel between Aemond and Daemon Targaryen, the latter leapt from his dragon and killed the former, but they both fell into the God's eye river."

"Did you just say dragons?"

"After that, Daemon Targaryen was presumed dead; none knows how. Some say he drowned in the river; some say Aemond's dragon, the great Vhagar fell and crushed him, for that, it is a byword among small folk that: 'the last kill of Aemond Targaryen, was his killer'." said Ser Selvy, he seemed proud of himself for knowing all that. Aenyx's eyes were widened in shock and horror. There were so many details he couldn't understand, namely, dragons. If dragons were a thing in this world, so is magic. I mean, my presence here is a sign of magic; why am I so shocked?

"I thank you, Ser Selvy. now if you excuse me, I shall speak with Celtigar." said Aenyx as he made his way to Captain's solar, where Cedryc spends most of his time.

"Lord, my prince," yelled Ser Selvy.

"Yes, that." agreed Aenyx.

-

The captain's solar of this ship was larger than The Comet's. There were more shelves and desks, a little library filled with scrolls and a parrot in his cage, cursing constantly. To Aenyx's surprise, the captain didn't spend any time here; because he wasn't the captain; he was the wheelman of the ship. This galley was owned by Cedryc Celtigar who is its captain. The grim lord now was writing something; He was wearing a silver greatcoat. Aenyx was sitting and watching Cedryc; in silence. "Is it something you're concerned with, prince?" he asked. He dropped the 'My' after the meeting in the harbour. Aenyx wasn't sure if he was insulting him or not, but every time he heard 'prince' from the grim lord, he would get chills.

"I was wondering, how long till we reach King's Landing?" Aenyx asked. He wanted to know how much time he has to gather himself a monologue which Daeron would enjoy.

"Not more so than two hours," Cedryc answered. He never left his eyes from the parchment he was writing.

As silence filled the room again, Aenyx prepared his second question. "Ser Donatyon Selvy said you were vassal to King Daeron,"

He slowly raised his gaze to Aenyx. His icy eyes burnt with despair and yet were cool. "Indeed. From Driftmark to Claw Isle, the three remaining Valyrian houses unite under the banner of the Prince of Dragonstone until his time comes to sit after his father, or by a tragic event, die."

"Bold of you to assume an heir would die before he reaches his hands to his birthright."

"Many heirs went to their demise before their fathers could." There was no bitterness in his words. Aenyx wondered if he even cared about the death of his son.

Trying to change the subject, he said: "Have you ever met King Daeron in person?"

"No harm will come upon you." Cedryc saw through Aenyx's question.

"I'm not worried about that; I only desire to know my dear kin, to know if I should subvert my expectations."

"If that's so, I shall tell you of his tour to Claw Isle. It was in the past year when King Daeron alone came. We talked about the problem of the tribe, which you resolved greatly. He was kind and gentle, well-spoken and dignified. He will not lay a hand on you even if you came out a threat to the realm."

"That is your duty to do, isn't it?" Aenyx said with a smirk.

"Indeed it is," Cedryc said solemnly. Aenyx could feel the threat in his voice. He politely thanked Celtigar and went to his room to prepare himself for his dear brother.

-

The tall tree stood proud for a thousand years here in the heart of Kingswood. He has seen the separation from Rainwood when in the Dawn of Days. he has seen the rise and fall of the Storm Kings whose armies marched through his home many times uncountable. He and his brothers covered the area from Felwood to Blackwater Bay dutifully and with that, purposefully. For purpose is what restrains a man from falling despair. Thought King Daeron, the second of him name, as he leaned on the proud tree. I must say, 'king' feels stronger than 'crown prince'. He has read the history of the land his people call Westeros, but it's much different to see the place in which history was made in person. Deepen in this woods, roars and cries Jeyne Poore, a girl who stood against the cruel king, Maegor. Horys Hill and the men who followed him to free her; their blood fresh these trees, helped them grow. Jeyne burnt And Horys died, while Maegor's madness flamed his soul. He was not a king; he was a monster. But again, weren't all members of his house at some point? How many songs were sung while the dragons danced? And how many of them were not tragedies? Infanticide, kinslaying, burning, Fire and Blood. Daeron never liked to be a dragon; they were to catastrophe. But Daeron did not come here to think those thoughts so he glanced to his left to see the slough of King Barron, where King Barron of house Durrandon, drowned trying to hunt a boar. And father said only hunt and lust were his life joy.

Father. The word sounded unfit to address 'him', King Aegon IV, the man who saw his firstborn a shame. Daeron could never understand why so. He saw his father shamelessly lay with women other than his dear mother. His sweet and delicate mother, crying when little Daenerys came to this world, alive and sleeping peacefully when she went to meet the divine. Did father truly feel nothing for her? How could he? Why wasn't she enough for him? Why wasn't I enough for him? Daeron tried everything he could do to gain a smirk from his father. He learnt the bow and won tournaments. But Aegon said he was terrible at hunting. Why wasn't it enough for you to see me try? Daeron shook his head, his father again intoxicated his thoughts.

Daeron was now happy. He has four sons for which he is grateful; He has loyal people around him and finally, he has his siblings whom he loves. From Daemon and his willfulness, Aegor and his quick temper, Daenerys, if not a princess, definitely a bard, Myra and Gwenys, both sweet girls, Brynden and his sharp mind, Shiera, in the path to becoming a beauty and the mystery that is Aenyx. When he read that Aenyx, with his sworn knight and the heir to Maidenpool, were in Claw Isle, resolving the time immemorial rivalry between Celtigars and Cracklaws, he was surprised. He wondered if it went well, if so, Daeron could appoint Aenyx as his master of law someday, to give his judgment more purpose.

For all free men have their purposes and King Daeron's is; something he shall figure out. Maybe he could turn the dreams of his namesake and Baelor real, add Dorn into his realm and make the Targaryens, the true kings of Seven Kingdoms. But how could he achieve that? Martells proved unbreakable against the dragon of Rhaenys and the army of Daeron I. It's clear to Daeron that, if he's to fight them, his sword should be his words and his shield his pen. He could use his marriage to make Prince Morion bend the knee if that proved futile; he has many options to go towards: his good-brother, Lotaryon, is coming to King's Landing to attend the coronation, Daeron could propose a marriage betwixt Daenerys and him, he could also just take him hostage. More thought on that for later.

A page came running towards him. "Your grace! your brother has arrived."

"My thanks." Daeron got up and went to mount his horse. It's time to meet my new brother.

-

Maegor's holdfast was filled with whispers and murmurs as the great doors opened and through them, four men came forth. Daeron, sitting on the horrendous throne, recognised Lord Cedryc Celtigar, his master of whispers, whom he chose because of his reputation to be a shadow to all secrets and a silver-haired boy, Aenyx. The other two should be his sworn shield and the heir of Maidenpool. Daeron studied Aenyx's clothes; he was wearing a white shirt with large frills on the front and the cuffs.

Daeron ordered all the family to be gathered when Aenyx arrived. He put his wife and four sons on the left side of the room while his siblings were on the right, with Daenerys being closest to him.

"Your grace," said Aenyx as he bowed, the others followed. "Greetings. The name's..."

"Prince Aenyx of House Targaryen. The son of King Aegon IV and my brother," said Daeron.

"Yes, that," confirmed Aenyx.

Daeron chuckled. "It's good to see you, brother. I gathered the family here for you to meet. I introduce:" he gestured left. "My queen, Myriah Martell, my four sons, descending by age, Baelor, Aerys, Rhaegle and Maekar." he then gestured right. "And your siblings: Daenerys, Brynden, Myra, Gwenys, Aegor, Daemon and Sheira." Aenyx politely nodded to each.

"That's a lot of silver hair, to be honest." the hall filled with laughter.

Daeron smiled. "I have heard you were subject to quite an adventure, brother." the four saddened. It was not difficult to ascertain he made harsh regard to a matter most lamentable.

"It was hard, this adventure of mine. Caused a lot of dismay," said Aenyx.

"Someone harmed you, brother?" Daeron asked concernedly.

"Not me," Aenyx glanced at Lord Celtigar. "Aradrin Celtigar, the heir of Lord Cedryc, died in a fight with the tribe of Cracklaws."

The atmosphere turned gloomy. Daeron frowned slightly; his memory of Aradrin Celtigar was not more than his arrogance and hotheaded behaviour. He turned to Lord Celtigar. "My condolences, my lord. I can not claim to feel the pain you are dealing with, but I know I do not want to see any of my sons meet the divine before I could."

Lord Celtigar looked at him. His countenance cool and cold, his icy eyes chilling into Daeron's soul. "As your master of whispers, it is part of my duties to keep the royal princes and princesses safe from harm," he stated.

"You are still willing to perform as my master of whispers, my lord."

"Why not, your grace?" he asked coldly.

"I thought you would head back to Claw Isle..."

"I have nothing better to do upon my little isle."

"But your wife..."

"May the father judge her justly." Lord Celtigar said emotionlessly.

Daeron's eyes widened. So was Aenyx's and his companions. "I..." Daeron struggled to find the right word. "How?"

"She got fever a moon back, that and her depression made her fever fatal. Harshly yestern, about dawn, before we set off to King's Landing, she passed away."

"Again, my..."

"There is no need, your grace. The past is gone," he said.

"In that case, I welcome you to Red Keep, master of whispers," said Daeron bemused by Lord Celtigar.

Lord Cedryc fell silent for a moment. "While I am your master of whispers, your grace, today I came before you a petitioner."

"And what are you petitioning for?" Daeron asked.

"Justice for my son's death."

Aenyx spoke: "I assure you, your house guard brought justice upon every tribesman they encounter."

Lord Celtigar turned to Aenyx. "Not against the tribe, prince, against you," he said bluntly.

The hall filled with murmurs. "Can you elaborate your case, my lord?"

"Of course, your grace. I have strong evidence to believe that Prince Aenyx Targaryen has intentionally led my son to his death. Yestreen, When the prince was about to leave for his mission, he brought my already-drunk son to a tavern in the harbour and encouraged him to drink even more. The drunkness led my son's mind to turn blind, thus he left the castle to join the prince and after that, died by a tribesman. While it would seem unintentional from your perspective, your grace," he put out a parchment. "I have the vouch of three sober men, present in the inn at the time, who saw the prince with my son and heard the questions he asked about the secrets of my family. He wanted my son drunk so that he could blackmail me, for what reason, I do not know."

Daeron asked to have the parchment. Names with signatures, the three men described Aenyx and Aradrin Celtigar. Saying he asked about Lord Celtigar's supposed conversion to the Lord of Light or in some cases, the ancient Valyrian faith. Did Aenyx plan this? He's no more than a child, though he seemed shocked. What if Lord Celtigar was falsifying evidence to show his case veridical? he turned to Aenyx: "Prince Aenyx Targaryen, how do you defend the accusation?"

"I..." Aenyx thought for a moment. "Lord Celtigar claims to have the signature of three sober men, men neither I nor you, your grace know. His men are not present here to defend their sobriety. Thus the only evidence Lord Celtigar has is his word, for which I represent mine. I claim his accusation of falsehood for I never met Aradrin Celtigar besides the two times in the public."

"Lord Celtigar?" asked Daeron.

"I do not have those three men with myself, your grace. but the piece of evidence you hold is not my only one. For I have the word of my son, Aradrin Celtigar, when he came into my solar told me of his day in the tavern with the prince. In my solar were present, my steward, Tybolt Isimond and my maester, Ermand. The maester stayed behind while I brought Steward Isimond to vouch for me."

"By any means, bring him in," ordered Daeron.

A few minutes later, Steward Isimond came to Maegor's palace. None of the royal family, except for Myriah who was tired, left the holdfast and the trial; they were concerned for their newly-found kin. Steward Isimond was a thin man with a bald head. He was wielding a little book, probably the Claw Isle's economics.

"Steward Isimond, Lord Cedryc Celtigar claims to have the words of his son before the events of yestreen, do you vouch for him?" asked Daeron

"I remember everything, your grace; Lord Aradrin came to the solar said he was with the prince in the tavern of the harbour."

"Prince Aenyx?" Daeron turned to Aenyx.

Aenyx smirked. he turned to Steward Isimond "Did you the late Aradrin Celtigar; told you of his plan to join our party, steward?"

"No, my prince," answered Steward.

"Are you sure? A man whose drunkness has blind his mind would not resist telling his father of a heroic deed he's about to do," said Aenyx.

Lord Cedryc turned to Aenyx. "What are you implying, prince?"

"That if he would go as far to talk about red priests, he for sure would tell his father of his plans. I am accusing you of letting YOUR SON DIE!" Aenyx shouted. His face was victorious and proud, for a second; after that, he frowned and then put his hands on his forehead. Lord Cedryc was smirking. He turned to Daeron and asked if he heard Aenyx's admission.

"Prince Aenyx, did you invite Aradrin Celtigar to an inn for him to drink more and lead himself to death?" Daeron asked, no matter how hard it was for him to acknowledge his brother for doing this foul act.

"...Yes," Aenyx admitted quietly

"Then..." Daeron huffed out of frustration "I shall send you..."

"Your grace, if I may," said Lord Cedryc. Daeron nodded. "I do not seek the blood of another for my son; but to mend the feud between our two families, Two ancient houses of Valyria. I propose something that will overcome the grudges and the vendetta."

"What are you suggesting, My lord," asked Daeron. Everyone in the great hall went silent when he spoke his next words.

"I ask for the hand of Princess Daena Targaryen in marriage."