Disclaimer: All characters and situations are property of the respective owners of the amazing works of Harry Potter and A Song of Ice and Fire.

Sequels

Dawn seems to give way in the air, a cold damp wind brushes my face. A breeze one can only experience near the sea.

I'm awake, but after making count what I must do today my body refuses to start it, there is always time, and I just need a little more.

With a twist, I move the sheets to cover myself better, waiting for the heat to send me back to the dream I just left.

Now facing the opposite direction, I can feel a smell that had been alien to me moments before.

Roses.

My memory gives an image to actions of the night before making the smell intensify and my other senses begin to awaken; her flavour, the smoothness of her skin and her body in all perfection invaded my mind and my body, contradicting its previous disposition, and I find myself aroused.

I open my eyes to give life to the allegory of beauty responsible for my new dilemma and with a smile adorning my face, I whisper "Elyria" in the spirit of confirming if she was in the conflict that I had already overcome, and with enough grace for it to avoid breaking with her dream if it wasn't.

She smiles and my heart starts beating faster, a learnt reaction my body always seems to befall every time she does that.

Moments later I see her eyes opening slowly, giving light to the indigo colour of her eyes.

Now with an expression adorning her face that denoted that she understood the consequences that her divinity had on me an angelic sound spreads in the room, carefree giggling.

Unable to resist anymore, my arms wrap around her and with a little force I pull her closer to me. My action only changed a bit the tone in her laugh, she was now able to represent her mischievous side with it.

"Master!" We both hear, and for a few moments we stop, that small period is enough for both of us to reach an implicit agreement to ignore it.

At this moment nothing seems more important than this.

"Master!" Another voice again, repeating the same thing.

Elyria looks away for a moment, but my hand instinctively decides to correct her and guide her face towards me again.

The kiss we shared slowly made me forget the world around us.

That was the magic of her lips.

"Syrior!" I recognize that voice.

Damn them!

I was about to get up when with a loud bang the door was forced open.

"We better have dragons besieging the city, Vario." I said with a voice that does not carry even an insignificant ounce of courtesy, leaving behind the blissful moment I had.

"A part of me fears that would be a better prospect than our current predicament, Syrior."

What's going on?

I turn to my bed companion and watch her smile fade, and for a moment the air seems to grow colder.

"There is an army at our gates demanding our surrender."

I turned my head with great speed, my face filled with disbelief.

"What?!"

After asking that question my gaze focuses on the soldiers Vario had next to him and I demand. "How?!"

The anger present in my voice seems to have driven theirs away, forcing their gazes directed at the floor as their only answer.

"We'll have time to unveil that mystery, my friend."

I get up and start to dress in a hurry, but the tumult of the night before forces me to stop for a moment not knowing where my clothes were, I see my tunic on the opposite side of the bed.

Trying to reach it I couldn't help but notice that Elyria didn't know what to do but panic.

"I won't be long." I whisper trying to improvise a smile.

She smiles back at me and in that instant, I feel peace again.

Walking through the corridors, still trying to make myself more presentable, with a smile making way to my mouth I ask.

"And how is that worse than fire-breathing beasts?" The question itself was solely focused on changing the colour to this gloomy morning.

"It's Volantis."

Damn them.

Lotho III

For millennia Valyria have been ignored in its peninsula, they were composed of farmers and fishermen who lived their days with the only concern that their work was enough for them to survive.

It was not until the first mounted dragons were seen in the sky that their presence was alerted by every known civilization.

It is there that the greatness of what would become the most powerful Empire, that man has recorded in its history, begins.

No one really knows for sure what a peaceful society like that would have done to gain control of these beasts.

So, in order to answer that enigma, as it is innate in human beings, stories gave birth, one more foolish than the other, and over time these became legends, which with the passage of millennia are now recognized as myths.

The natural tendency of man to mystify and empower the birth of the Valyria as we know is what made the events vary depending on who you ask.

However, there is a foundation that governs most of them.

The first dragon lords.

Also referred to as the founders of the Valyria that came to dominate Essos.

Four families that, with the passing of the years, the commoners would deify their origins.

They were composed of members who professed the most powerful magic and with it, they were able to seize absolute control of the most advanced civilization in Planetos.

Four dynasties which, above all, were conceived as royalty amid the rivalry engendered by the craving for absolute power that characterized the empire.

A struggle that made the concept of kinship foreign to dragon lords.

Nevertheless, when the times require them to cope with an external foe Valyria always remained united, guided by their undisputed leaders.

On one hand, Baelnaris and Gontaris were recognized for having produced the best warriors of their generations, brandishing a type of specialized magic in combat lay in his voice.

On other hand, the Maltanis and Taraelis were alluded to by the power of their blood, this represented the most dangerous magic and their limits lay within undiscovered darkness.

Together they were invincible, but the limitations of each made them dependent on the other and this resulted in generations of inbreeding focused on putting an end to their restrictions.

They took hold of all the magic for themselves, and the few times they scoured for carnal desires outside themselves gave birth to bastardized noble families of dragons.

For centuries they pursued an ideal that logic suggested being impossible, the perfect dragon.

A being who would not be far-fetched, nor poetic, to call God.

Personally, I consider the "Doom" that ended Valyria to be the consequence of that obsession.

The game that the dragon lords had been a part of for generations was about to have a winner. One would think that would give more stability to the empire, and that ultimately, they could be encouraged to seek greatness in the rest of the known world they still had not dominated.

Oh, but one would be utterly wrong.

A problem of man is that nobody likes to lose.

"I regret that I could not elaborate more on the message, but the matter I referred to in it demanded caution," I intoned, staring at the man in front of him.

Malon was a slave, but the lord he served tried to make everyone forget it.

His appearance was always flawless, far better than most of the wondrous bloodline members in existence. And if that wasn't enough to convince everyone to ignore his disadvantage, the finesse of his movements and words ended up being persuasive enough.

"These last few days have been a source to very important events," I continue as I take the cup that a servant had left on my desk.

"Which is not unusual, with the exceptional events of these times," young Malon responds as he imitates my action and prepares himself to enjoy the delicious lyseni wine from the cup that was already in his hand.

"Despite this, many seem to have entertained the notion that the fall of the Empire would be inconsequential," I added while maintaining my eyes on the wine in the cup while stirring it slowly. "Difficult times are ahead."

"My great lord Gaelon used to say that if one did not have a plan, one ran the risk of becoming someone else's." My mind goes into a trance while pondering those words for some moments.

Yes, there are far too many plans right now.

"Lord Maltanis was a brilliant man." I say with a smile forming on my face. "Would it be a correct conjecture to say that's why he was on Lys?"

"My great lord did not know about what would come to doom the empire." Malon answers quickly without diverting his gaze from mine.

"I understand."

I would assume It was only limited to the birth of his son and the prophecy that involved him.

I never gave a lot of scope to fanciful words that complemented forecasting, no matter how much magic the dragon lords profess.

But with what I just learned recently; I can't help but waver in that conviction.

"We better resume the interest of this meeting." I manifest with a smile, putting aside the almost empty glass and straightening my posture in the chair, I ask. "Have you ever heard something about the Targaryen family? "

"A prominent family of dragonlords." Malon answers with a nod. "And some other details that come from my great lord's father perspective which does not have a place in this conversation."

The subtle smile that I held until now then loses its daintiness and shifts into a grimace after understanding what Aelor Maltanis could say about the circumstances of that family.

"Those were gruelling times in the bidding for power in Valyria." I justify, instinctively, for some reason.

"Some families had been forced to migrate or they were at risk of extinction." I continued recounting, seeing that Malon seemed not to know where this conversation was going.

"Aenar, the exile." I name, adjusting my position, my arms were on the desk with my fingers intertwined between them now. "That is how they labelled the head of that family."

Closing my eyes, I enunciate. "At that time, it appeared to be an adequate title." Despite never being expelled from Valyria, it still hid a deeper insult of what the word itself suggested.

"Having precedents such as the Qohtigar family that attributed validity to it." That family fell as colateral of the conflict between the nobility of Valyria.

"The Targaryens weren't among the most powerful families in the empire, but they weren't on decline either."

Nor were they in a comparable situation to those who chose to abandon the bid.

And for that, they were coined as cowards.

"My great lord thought It was an illogical course the one they took." Malon adds.

Certainly, even knowing what I do now, that decision would still predispose anyone to consider the same.

It did not make sense.

Opening my eyes, I am about to look for a writing among what was on my table.

"Following their plans, they sold all their possessions in Valyria."

After finding what I was looking for. I handed it to Malon while saying. "What I find curious is that the Maltanis family was the one who had bought all."

Giving him enough time to get a glimpse of the contents of the letter my father had received a few years ago, I lean back against the chair.

The prerogative that represented a noble family trying to get rid of their possessions, for someone like my father with ambitions linked to unfolding among the nobility of the empire, was motivation enough to do everything possible to be aware of every detail related to that agreement.

After finishing reading, the young regent puts the document on the table and declares. "Lord Maltanis did not share his affairs with my great lord Galaenar."

The relationship between Malon's master and his father is not one of the best-kept secrets of Valyria. It was the reason I accepted without preamble when he explained that his master had no idea what destroyed the empire.

Because now I have enough reasons to believe that the then Lord Maltanis knew what the real motivation of the fleeing of the Targaryens was.

"Aenar has a daughter named Daenys." I restarted the tale that family was the subject of. "Whom Lord Targaryen has credited the idea of the exile."

Seeing how I've gained Malon's interest in the latter, I continue. "I do not know the extent of the magic of the lords of Valyria."

They fervently protected every aspect of the magic they brandished.

I know that Malon, due to the unique relationship he had with his master, knows more than I do in this regard. That is why I ask. "Have you heard of prophetic dreams, Malon?"

For an instant, the young regent loses his composure, showing surprise in his eyes.

However, the time it took him to recover was noticeably short and he gained composure saying. "Dragon dreams."

Of course, they had to assign it a term like that.

Malon, closing his eyes, in an effort to collect his thoughts after the revelation, I assume, adds. "Those with the blood of the four have experienced at least one in their lifetime."

The Targaryen found its beginnings as a bastard family of the Maltanis.

A lineage like that carried the ability to control dragons along the magical heritage of its blood was enough to position them above the rest of ordinary people like me.

"That includes my great lord."

Yes, and I know to what you refer, Malon.

Valyria was on the brink of anarchy because of that.

"What they show is confusing and uncontrollable."

We all tend to have dreams like that, but because it is them having those one must assume they were special.

The dragon's lords were like that with all that involved them.

"Most of them end up being inconsequential."

Now knowing that the young Targaryen saved her family by following what she saw in one of them forces me to reconsider my position on those dreams.

"Many become too enthralled into them and lose themselves chasing what they think they saw in them."

Hearing that I can't help but imagine Aenar warning the egocentric nobility about the fall of the empire, for them, without a doubt, the very idea could only spawn from the thoughts of a lunatic because of how far-fetched it was.

Seeing that Malon had nothing more to add to that matter, I formulated the idea that I deduced from all of this. "If Aenar claimed that Daenys had foreseen the fall of the empire."

I walked over to the table to pick up the letter I had given to Malon, all without looking away from the regent, who was keeping an eye on what I was saying.

"And considering that lord Maltanis was probably the last to speak to Aenar…" I postulate, knowing that I don't need to add more for the message to be understood.

Aelor Maltanis represented all the malevolence that people attributed to the dragon lords, and it is precisely those qualities for which they were feared.

He was not stupid, and like the other three families, they would not ignore something their own blood tells them, no matter how absurd.

"Lord Rogare." This time I can't help but notice the same cold voice that Malon exhibited on his previous visit here, one that I imagine has been assimilated from the frequent contact he had with the most powerful men in the known world.

One would even think he had dragon blood.

"It seems that I require your assistance again."

Someone like Aelor Maltanis would have had more influence than Aenar Targaryen in pursuing the salvation of Valyria.

And Malon, like me, wants to know why he didn't do anything to prevent its destruction.

Malon III

Lys seems to have succumbed to a state of chaos.

Confusion ruled the streets with violence and fear.

The smoke surrounding the port had become an ally for those who wanted to hide his actions from reproach of others. The screams not only had the sharpness of the tone of a woman or a child, but despair also seems to have possessed everyone.

Whoever started this siege has not even passed the sea defences of the city, and yet it seemed to have won the battle.

The enemy would port in a city ravaged by its own people.

There was no one leading the defences, there was no one leading the retreat.

"Fools." I whisper, remembering how the city lost control.

The selfishness and cowardice of the wealthy who valued their lives above any other caused the plebe to see enemies everywhere.

The men willing to defend the city against external hostiles have prioritized the safety of those who gave the coins.

And that's how they found themselves exchanging blows with the local population.

The very context seemed to demand me to join to the uproar and render myself to the cruelty of man.

There is no doubt that someone inferior would do it, but not Malon.

My heart was beating fast, but my breathing kept the beat of my movements, the warmth of the climate on this island that always keeps the body warm had no consequence for my sweat because it felt cold.

My senses seem to have taken on a higher degree of intensity and everything seemed to move slowly, I heard only what I wanted to hear, I smelled only what I wanted to perceive.

I was completely focused.

Marching towards my destination.

My lord would be proud.

My current circumstances would make anyone think that the gods were favoring me in some way, and I certainly would agree that I have had terrific fortune in recent days.

The assault had taken place when I finished all my business in the city.

Yet I feel that luck had nothing to do with the fact that I am now walking with an air of certainty, although a little uncomfortable, surrounded by twenty escorts protecting me, an oblivious setting to the gravity of the eventuality in which the port is now.

No, I refuse to accept that I was part of the problem.

My company has not encouraged violence, and we have moved with discipline.

Someone could claim that I could order my men to help with the defence of the city, but I am not stupid.

The battle was lost from the moment an enemy led their eyes towards Lys.

Of all the cities west of Essos, Lys was the easiest to take.

The city of pleasure was the most dependent on Valyria's protection.

Now, the island was not even suitable to deal with the piracy mobbing its waters.

The only way a victory scenario could be created is through an alliance to match the adversary's numbers, since Lys has more slaves working in pleasure houses than working as soldiers.

Lys never needed them.

However, Malon cannot help but think that the timing to carry out this attack is commendable.

One must take advantage of all the weaknesses of the opponent, and one must do it before the other mends it.

Something I personally would have done.

I can't help but find a bit of delight in how convenient this was for my great little master.

They solved an immediate problem that we had.

I focused my last days on the search for slaves to increase the security of our new lands.

Now, whoever is taking control of the port will take the place of protector too.

Although this leads me to take a moment and consider whether the project I had recently started was still necessary.

No, we better not leave all our safety in the hands of another.

Certainly, at this time there are many who will not share this feeling, which is normal.

All were in a process of assimilation of unprecedented freedom.

Seeing the city gates open I can't help but smile at the prospect of seeing my little master again.

I turn my head and digest the horizon painted with anarchy that I leave behind.

I hope only a few die today.