Calla

Calla's nights were always filled with ice.

Dark creatures walked amongst falling snow. Some of them were white, pale white, their eyes blue with cold flames. Those were the quiet ones. The one that would attack Westeros at its weakest. The Others.

But they were not the only ones. There were more. Others were beautiful creatures; those were not. They screamed, making a mess of the snow, with their horns and claws and ugly purple scale.

Yet when they met…

They merged into one. A brief pause, then the ugly ones melted and covered the Others. When it was finished, Calla could see that the Others grew horns as well, their skin turned purple, their smile more toxic.

And when they turned towards Calla, staring into her eyes, she remembered.

She knew them, the way she knew Crystal's name and how to use it. She remembered them. She remembered—

Cold eyes glared at her as fingers tightened around her throat.

Calla struggled, trying to take out Crystal. It didn't work.

Her hands grasped empty, cool air.

Then those eyes turned red.

"You left yourself vulnerable. Don't do that again," a voice whispered, high and sharp, "And don't come back here until I call for you. It's too deep for you to survive."

Calla felt a burning hatred towards that voice. You are

"Go. Don't think about me. I'm not what you should remember."

Calla was shivering in her sheets when she woke up. Horns, claws, malicious smiles. She knew them. Once.

But now… she couldn't remember.

She scratched her head, making her long hair a mess. Winter… would come, in some future. She always knew that, ever since she received Crystal.

But what was that? What was the meaning of that?

Did she… do something that made the Others… stronger?

It was too terrifying to imagine. She jumped out of bed and took out Crystal. The light of the sword was comforting. She put her fingers on the surface. Its warmth was comforting too, with the temperature of a cup of hot milk.

The sword calmed her down, but she could not go back to sleep. Calla sighed and walked out of her room.

Calla's chambers in Maegor's Holdfast were close to the King's bedchamber, in case Aenys needed her and Crystal. Aegor rested in the Tower of the Hand… Calla could not run to him, as much as she wished to.

She was not a child anymore.

It was past midnight, and the castle was asleep. The guards were not exactly surprised to see Calla. This was not the first time she left her bed in the night. Calla nodded at them and went straight to the royal nursery. She might find someone to talk to there.

As she was hoping for, the door of the nursery opened carefully as Calla approached. "Selyse," Calla greeted her goodsister, who came out from the nursery looking exhausted, "Daemon is crying again?"

"Finally got him asleep." Selyse smiled wryly as she noticed Calla, "He wouldn't have anyone but me when he's feeling uncomfortable… I hope he grows out of this one day."

"He will. Surely he will." There was an unnamed agreement between them not to mention the possibility that baby Daemon would not live to grow up. He would. He had to.

Born roughly a year after Aenys' wedding, the heir to the Iron Throne was a sickly babe of two. Since his birth, little Daemon was always falling to one sickness then another, from the fever that had almost taken his life a month after birth to the coughs he was having then. The Grand Maester claimed that he had weak lungs.

In contrast, Daena's Rohanne was a healthy, lively girl of three. The delight of the Red Keep, her baby-talk and her learning to walk gave the Blackfyres— and, to Calla's eternal surprise, Aerion— much joy.

But Calla could see that the stress was getting to Aenys and Selyse. "Shall I escort you back? My brother must be waiting for you." Crystal shone brightly. The halls of Maegor's Holdfast were well illuminated, but there was nothing more reassuring than Crystal's light. Calla took a moment to glance at the silent kingsguard five steps away from Selyse and the knight nodded, glad to have the Crystal Knight with them.

Selyse nodded, the weariness of the day driven away as she widened her eyes at Crystal. The sword tended to have that effect. "It would be my honour. It feels much safer to have you with me, Calla. And my husband… yes, he was still working when I left. He isn't having much sleep lately." She sighs, "He's working so hard. I wish… I could help him."

"You already did," Calla reminded her, "You take care of Daemon for him. You give him your support." Selyse was likely more important to Aenys' psyche than she realised. Calla had seen how Aenys' eyes lit up when Selyse entered the room.

Just as now. "My dear wife," Aenys turned towards them when he heard them enter, a faint, tired smile hanging on his face. Calla saw the table behind him had a mountain of parchments, a map, and… was that a model of King's Landing?

"Calla," after giving his wife a brief hug, sharing kisses and a few words, and urging her to bed, Aenys called, raising a brow towards Calla, "why are you here?"

"Can't sleep." Calla found a chair lying around and pulled it towards her. Aenys was clearly going to keep working, so it did not hurt for her to stay and accompany him. "When Selyse told me you were still working, I thought you're making final adjustments on the tourney speech. What is that?" She pointed towards the map— now that she noticed it, it was a map of Flea Bottom— and the model.

Aenys frowned, glaring at her for several seconds before sighing, "It's too late for any of us to be chatting. But fine." He gestured for Calla to move closer to the table and put away the parchments so Calla could see the map clearly. "This is the current Flea Bottom. A slum filled with filth and plague," he said, his tone filled with disgust.

All Calla could see on the map were small, thin streets twisted together like worms. She had not visited that part of the city, but she knew what Aenys said was true. "Ah, you're working on city plans. Cleaning up King's Landing."

"Indeed. I have told you before, haven't I?" Aenys pointed to the model, "And this— this will be the new King's Landing. See here." He poked a finger on where Flea Bottom would be… if it existed. Instead, large roads and square buildings filled the area neatly, the roads leading to the Street of the Sisters. But it was not just Flea Bottom. On Rhaenys' Hill, the ruins of the Dragonpit were nowhere to be seen. The hill was full of little boxes of buildings, large and small.

"The debris removal of the dragonpit finally has reached the point where I can proceed to the rest of the plan. Five years, and we shall see the Flea Bottom renamed as it comes up to standard. Then we will finish the less urgent buildings up Rhaenys' Hill, before moving to the rest of the city. King's Landing had become one of the largest cities of Westeros in twenty-five years. I will see it become the cleanest, most liveable city within the same amount of time," Aenys said, clearly pleased with himself, "As such I shall be remembered as a king as great as Jaehaerys the Wise himself."

"Jaehaerys did improve King's Landing, but he wasn't called the Wise because of that… at least, I don't believe so," Calla chuckled lightly as she saw Aenys' face fall. King or not, he was still a boy at heart, wanting to impress people and make a grand name for himself. "What you achieved is already comparable to him, I'll say. After Maegor the Cruel died, Jaehaerys claimed the Iron Throne and got that moniker from keeping the peace and healing the realm. You have maintained the peace too, earning the respect of your lords, and give it a few more years you will earn that name too."

Aenys sank back into his seat, a wry smile on his face. "Perhaps I should hire some singers to spread my good name all over the Seven Kingdoms, that will give me that moniker for sure. After all, it was what Jaehaerys did."

"He did that?" Calla did not remember that. She had enough trouble remembering facts from a different future...

Aenys raised a brow, chuckling. "Rusty on your history, Calla? Yes, he did… Well, it's more or less what he did. But I won't do that, it'll be a waste of our treasury when that money can be put into better use. The desperately needed renovations aren't cheap, you know."

Calla smiled, "That alone makes you a better king than Jaehaerys."

Her brother raised his chin proudly, a slightly arrogant smile spread across his face. "I'll accept that praise. That should, on all accounts, make me the greatest king ever sat on the Iron Throne."

Calla could not help but laugh. "Sure. No, wait… You'll be the greatest king of all eternity if you are going to be a good boy and go back to bed. The plans can wait, and tomorrow is the big day."

"I'm not a boy. I'm your king," Aenys immediately refuted, rolling his eyes, "and you have no right to tell me to go to sleep when you're wandering around the halls in the night yourself."

"Fine." Calla raised her hands in mock surrender, "I'll go back to my chambers. See you tomorrow."

"See you," he waved her away, still maintaining an expression of annoyance. Calla suppressed an urge to chuckle more as she left Aenys in quick, light steps.

A yawn came naturally to Calla. Maybe she could fall asleep then.

The tourney celebrating Daemon's nameday saw many important nobles attending. Brackens, Reynes, Yronwoods… Arryns, Tyrells. No Baratheons, nor anyone from the north and the Iron Islands, but this was hardly surprising.

The truth was, the more the merrier. This tourney was not just to celebrate. Aenys planned to establish a new order of knights, which he creatively named "Crystal Guards"— and, of course, it would be led by Calla.

His intent was to select a number of knights from the tourney and invite them to join this "honourable and fulfilling" order— to lessen the burden on the old City Watch, with only "honourable" salary paid to them.

Aenys was proud of this solution, to be sure. Aegor did not think much about the cost it could save, but he pointed out how this would give them a benefit in befriending those important young nobles. Much like how Daemon Blackfyre, First of his name, was friends with the finest knights of his time, Aenys wished to have them become his loyal vassals too.

Selyse's brothers were joining the joust, as were some of the kingsguards, but Calla would not be joining any of the competitions. It would not be fair.

Instead, she sat beside Aegor as the tourney started. They were on Aenys and Selyse's right side, on the left side sat Daena and Aerion— who was being followed by his ever-diligent large shadow. As much as Aerion protested and complained about Duncan's mere existence in the start, no further incidents had happened since then. Calla remained cynical of his change of heart, but she had learned to tolerate him.

"... well-performed knights will be invited to join the Crystal Guards, led by our own Crystal Knight, Calla Blackfyre!" Aenys announced grandiosely. Calla stood up and pulled out Crystal.

As she willed it, her dark, unassuming plain armour was covered by shiny green crystal. The Crystal armour. That was the armour she usually would only wear in war, for it required focus to maintain. But she would keep it today, to attract more knights to join her order.

Gasps of admiration and claps could be heard, but it was not over yet. Calla jumped from her seat— from the high dais— straight into the field. "I'm Calla Blackfyre. Knights of the Seven Kingdom, shall you be aspired to join my order—"

At that moment, many things happened at once.

"Cancel," Aenys cried out, "The tourney is cancelled." When Calla stared at him in astonishment, she could see that his face was red with anger, his breath unsteady. Beside him, Selyse's face was pale white, her arms clutching one arm of Aenys— which seemed to be the only thing that stopped him from lashing out and hitting someone. It couldn't be…

"Your Grace," Aegor called, his face grim, "I agree that the tourney must be postponed. Please let me handle this."

Aenys nodded sharply and left with Selyse on his arm, who was seemingly on the edge of fainting. Some kingsguard followed.

Calla ascended through the stair and got back to Aegor's side. Before she could ask what had happened, Aegor took her hand and looked at her in such sorrow that he almost confirmed her worst guess.

"Calla," he said softly, "Daemon is dead. He had coughed up blood and died in the nursery."

Oh. Oh.

No matter how much power Crystal granted her…

She was always powerless to stop the tragedies that happened within her family.