Aurion VII
17th day of the third moon, 299 AC
The wind howled around him, whipping his hair across his face. He looked all around and found himself standing on a seemingly endless wall of ice. The chill of the wind bit at his skin, sending shivers down his spine. The cold seeped into his bones, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around himself, looking out at the expanse before him. It stretched as far as the eye could see, an endless sea of frozen white.
A woman stood beside him, her figure barely visible against the ice. Her pallid skin seemed almost ghostly, and her long white hair cascaded down like a waterfall of snow. She was clad in a dress so thin he could not help but wonder how she weathered the cold. Her belly was round and swollen with a child, and her eyes… a blue so beautiful and haunting. He found himself so entranced he nearly missed the man beside her. Dark brown hair with streaks of grey framed a long, wrinkled face, his eyes a deep grey as hard as stone. A thick beard adorned his square jaw, and a fur cloak black as pitch rested around his broad shoulders.
They gazed over the wall, and the woman placed a delicate hand on the man's shoulder, before she turned her head, with a sound of crackling ice, and her eyes bore straight into Aurion's. Her beautiful blue eyes slowly liquified, dripping down her cheeks like tears as her hollow, empty sockets bathed the air before her in an even stronger blue light. Her graceful figure was replaced by a grotesque semblance of death. Aurion could see through her, her body like a walking corpse, a horrifying visage of death and decay. The cold grew colder, the wind grew sharper, and it whispered, a tongue he could not understand from all around him all at once. A guttural cry clawed its way up Aurion's throat, but he could not scream. He could not move. The woman reached out for him, and her shriveled, cold hand reached ever closer to his flesh. He heard the Crow's Eye laughing.
With a distant roar, the nightmare shattered like a hammer through fragile ice. Gasping for air, his heart beating out of his scarred chest, Aurion found himself back in the dimly lit room of his chambers. The moon's gentle glow filtered through the windows, casting fleeting shadows on the walls, and he was covered in his sweat. He breathed slowly, making sure he was calm so Aegarax could share his demeanor, wherever his dragon was.
He changed to a simple tunic and went on a run to calm his head, as was his daily ritual. Few recognized him as he jogged, as it was still before sunrise. After five miles worth of laps around the manse, Aurion returned to the baths where he lifted weights until his muscles ached. Only then did he have the servants prepare a bath, where Taena had just prepared the water almost boiling to his preference. The searing heat of the bath mixed with the rise of the sun relieved him of the coldness that had pierced his heart.
After the bath, he called for Aegarax to land near the Maegyr manse as Mesha helped him into his armor. He strapped Solfyre on his hip and stepped outside just as Aegarax approached. The cavalry had already left the city to go east of Volon Therys, which was only eighty miles upriver. Aegarax cleared that distance easily and he heard cheers as he flew low over the cavalry. They had elected to leave the elephants in the city, as it would be far too risky if Aegarax provoked them to stampede in fear.
It was not long until they came upon a mercenary camp. The camp could certainly house more men than Volantis' cavalry, but Aegarax proved useful for morale. Not a single shot was fired before they had all dropped their weapons in surrender, and he met with the leader of the Windblown Company in his own tent, a man named the Tattered Prince, an older man with silver grey armor and a ragged cloak made of dozens of cloths, blue and grey and purple, red and gold and green, magenta and vermilion and cerulean, all faded from time.
"So you are not a Targaryen," the captain said in High Valyrian, with barely a trace of an Andal accent. The man claimed to be a former prince of Pentos, which was close enough to the Andal Coast, after all.
"You sound disappointed," Aurion chuckled in response. The man's violet eyes looked as though the man was perpetually melancholic, but he seemed almost expectant in this instance. "Was that why you sent a force of Westerosi to 'defect' to Volantis? You saw a dragon and assumed it was Targaryen? Your men –and woman– were unmolested. Besides having to spend the night under house arrest, naturally. I am willing to exchange prisoners if-"
"Your dragon is larger than the Black Dread himself," the Tattered Prince interrupted, still in awe.
"I'm sure he is," Aurion dismissed, frustrated at yet another interruption. Aegarax was the greatest dragon in history, even before he grew as large as he had during Aurion's extended slumber. "You saw my dragon, and you saw my terms. I would say they are quite generous."
"You would pay me what the Lyseni are already, with a bonus of a third more," the Tattered Prince confirmed, lifting up the parchment. "Fifty thousand golden aureii would be the contract in Volantene coin. And sixty-seven thousand is your price."
"For your two thousand men to stay out of battle. I will double it if your two thousand men join us."
The Tattered Prince shook his head, "I will choose the best path to spare as many of my men as possible."
Aurion laughed, "And if I don't pay you at all, you suppose I would let you go and you would… what? Take no contract? Continue to fight for the Lyseni and the Triarchy?" The Tattered Prince narrowed his violet eyes, but it was no true choice. They had already surrendered, and it would be a fool's move to oppose Aurion as long as he had Aegarax.
"Here is the offer I will give you, and if you refuse it, I will give it to the first one willing to take your place as commander of the Windblown. Seventy-five thousand aureii to fight, and you get to stay in my good graces."
Aurion pulled a parchment beside him and wrote out the terms, before passing it to one of the slaves, who walked across the tent and handed both to the Tattered Prince. After a moment's contemplation, the old man signed the contract.
"We will transfer the prisoners after your commitments have been fulfilled," Aurion confirmed. "But there will come a time for you and your men to think of the future. sellsword companies will be in much lower demand once Volantis seizes the disputed lands."
"Are you trying to hire me into your army?" the Tattered Prince asked. "My price is not gold-"
"I am not ordering you to do anything beyond what is writ on the contract. I'm merely asking you to contemplate the future. Because your men will."
They had camped with the Windblown afterward, with plenty of guards stationed around Aurion's tent. The prisoners had confirmed no harm had befallen them, and by the next sunrise, the whole host marched south to meet the second legion.
It took two more days for the fleets to set sail, carrying the first legion to Lys. Aurion rode on board the Revenant, which had been painted black over Euron's red paint, and the Greyjoy sails were replaced with Aurion's purple, his sigil proudly displayed in golden canvas as it sailed with the Volantene fleet.
The mute crew, though the most competent at their jobs, did not provide much in the way of company. Aurion had taken to spending most of his time at sea in his quarters practicing his pyromancy with the ship's wax candles, studying the histories of Essos he had missed, or seeing through Aegarax's eyes. He found that just as much as his own temperament reflected on Aegarax, so did Aegarax's on himself. He often found himself hungering for creatures of the sea Aegarax had been feasting on which made Aurion glad he had trained Aegarax from craving the flesh of man.
After two days of sailing west, Aurion heard a horn blowing, the signal that the scouts had spotted the Triarchy fleet. He ordered the Revenant to veer to the right side of the fleet, allowing Aegarax to land in the clear water, extending his wings enough for Aurion to safely leap from the starboard of the ship. He made his way to the crane of his neck and donned his dragonsteel helmet that concealed his face.
"Sōvēs, Aegarax!" he commanded, and Aegarax flew out of the water into the clouds. Below he spotted the Lysene fleet, with ships painted bright hues, and reinforcements from their tentative Myrish and Tyroshi allies. He dove from the sky, "Dracarys!"
Ballista bolts, the few that reached him, bounced harmlessly off Aegarax's scales. Aegarax roared, and a dark golden flame burst from his mouth. Not a hot, focused flame, as he had done at the Vhassar manse, but a fire as uncontrolled and wild as he could. He caught three ships wide, but he could do more.
Aurion let loose his grip on Aegarax's horns for a moment to wave his arms outwards, thrusting the flame in a wide cone, setting ablaze ten ships in a row and carving through the center of the fleet. Before even reaching the end, he heard horns of surrender after dozens of their ships were burned without a single Volantene loss. He stayed atop Aegarax, flying around the fleet out of range of a potential sneak attack and burning two more ships that had tried to flee the battle.
Aurion was concerned the Triarchy would attempt to pull trickery and attack once boarded by the Volantene forces, but no such thing occurred. Perhaps Aurion had even underestimated the fear a dragon could inspire. He was pleased, but he would have had no problem with burning some of his own ships if his hand was forced.
Most of the ships were manned by slave crews, so switching from one master to another was not such a hard thing. After an hour, they had managed to plunder and steal what remained of the Triarchy fleet, more than doubling his naval numbers. Aurion had briefly landed on a burning shipwreck for a closer look and saw the Triarchy forces being imprisoned without much resistance, though all were staring at him and Aegarax in awe. Aurion almost lamented that Aegarax wouldn't be secret any longer, as the reactions from those ignorant of his existence were most amusing.
It was mere hours before they saw the island where Lys stood, its high walls making the city look nearly impenetrable for any army. Breaching the walls was a trivial task, as a focused strike from Aegarax burned gaps large enough for half the first legion to land, and the sellsword and militia garrison had no morale in the face of a dragon. Aurion limited the sacking and plundering to the poorer parts of the city, landing Aegarax on the walls and watching as he took the city with 3,000 men. General Belicho Staegone reported only two dozen losses in the whole siege for the legion.
The First Magister of Lys, Tregar Ormollen, was nowhere to be found, as he had fled to Tyrosh to rule the Triarchy with Archon Syrio Zokan of Tyrosh and First Magister Terro Trellos of Myr. His white marble palace overlooking the waterfront, however, stood strong. His household guards, Unsullied, Aurion had learned, did not surrender. Even after Aurion sent an emissary threatening them with Aegarax, the guards had tossed out his head. While Aurion could have melted it to its foundations as he had the palace of Nyessos Vhassar, Aurion did not wish to destroy this one if he did not have to.
"How many losses do you suspect if we storm the palace?" Aurion asked his general, Belicho Staegone.
"There may be as many as a thousand guards inside. The casualties-"
"Too high," Aurion agreed. It would spoil such a clean victory. He paced back and forth, watching the white palace in the distance as Aegarax stood behind him. Perhaps he could have Admiral Methyso Votar bombard the palace from the rear with siege engines for an assault in all directions. No, then he may as well just use Aegarax if he would cause that much damage.
"Have Admiral Methyso prepare a blockade, we'll simply have to starve them out till surrender." Unsullied may be utterly without fear, but they still had the weaknesses of any man. He looked around to find a manse that he could reside in, defensible yet luxurious.
"Your Majesty!" someone yelled out in the Volantene Low Valyrian. The legionnaires parted to allow the messenger into the officer's meeting. It was no messenger, but a captain in lamellar, behind him three legionnaires escorting a man about as tall as Aurion, in ornate filigreed Tyroshi plate armor with long silver hair tied behind his head.
"This man claims to be Galeno Rogare, gonfaloniere of Lys" the captain announced, standing as far from Aegarax as he could.
"A Rogare?" Aurion repeated. He had read the house had risen to prominence over a century ago then experienced a terrible fall from grace. "The gonfaloniere is the military leader of Lys, correct?" Aurion asked.
"That is true," Galeno confirmed with his flowery Lyseni accent, even more fearful of Aegarax than his captor.
"Galeno, do you see that palace?" Aurion asked pointing to the white palace of the First Magister. Galeno nodded. "That can be yours as Archon of Lys if you order the Unsullied to stand down. If not, I will raze it to the ground as my troops are currently doing to your slums in the west."
"I…" Galeno stuttered. "I am loyal to Tregar…"
Galeno's tone was most interesting. "You like the man?" Aurion asked. No reaction. "His daughter, mayhaps?" No reaction. Aurion leaned in and whispered. "A son?" A nearly imperceptible flinch. Aurion smiled. "The guards say they will hold that palace to their grave. I intend to hold them to that oath. That means everyone in there will be dead soon enough. We may even poison their water supply to hasten the promise, and we will have no way of controlling who consumes the poisoned–"
"I…I will do it!" Galeno quickly announced. He looked to the ground and said a brief prayer to the Weeping Lady of Lys. "But I implore you to spare the Ormollen family."
"I had no intention of ending their line," Aurion lied. "The First Magister himself, if he does not surrender within a week will have to be executed, naturally."
"Naturally," Galeno said. "But his sons and daughters have committed no crime. Your Majesty," he bowed his head. He looked up, a new fire in his eyes. He truly wanted it. "In return for officially surrendering the city to you, I will be named Archon of Lys."
Aurion nodded to one of the army stewards, who brought him a scroll and quill. He wrote down terms of surrender, declaring all of Lys as property of the Imperial Crown and granting leases to all landowners of their current land, revoking all Ormollen property and granting lease of the First Magister's palace to Galeno Rogare, naming Galeno as Archon of Lys with all powers that came with that authority, signing off all Lysene territorial claims in the Disputed Lands, and officially pardoning all kin of First Magister Tregar Ormollen on the condition that they publicly swore fealty to Emperor Aurion Varezys. He signed it off and handed the scroll to Galeno, who read it over twice and signed away his city to Aurion.
"Excellent," Aurion said, placing a hand on Galeno's shoulder. "You have just restored your family's name from the brink of being lost to the histories, same as I. If you remain as cooperative as you have this day, the histories will remember you as Lysandro the Magnificent come again."
"Thank you, Your Imperial Majesty," Galeno said. Aurion nodded and a dozen legionnaires escorted Galeno to the palace. Galeno stood outside and declared the surrender of Lys with his authority as gonfaloniere and acting First Magister in the absence of Tregar Ormollen. The palace guards marched out, forming a line. They numbered hardly three hundred, far lower than anticipated. The legions went inside and ensured none were waiting in ambush. Tregar's three children and his wife all knelt to Aurion, and the eldest, Parquello, seemed especially close with Galeno Rogare. That was the one.
Then came his concubines. And there were several of those. But Aurion's attention was on his chief concubine.
"Lynesse… Hightower?"
"Indeed, Your Imperial Majesty," the beautiful woman covered in all sorts of jewelry confirmed in perfect High Valyrian as she prostrated herself before Aurion. She looked far younger than her years, with long, golden hair and skin like fresh cream. He understood why this one was his most prized concubine.
"And how does a daughter of one of the most powerful lords of the Sunset Kingdoms find herself in Lys?"
"A long story," she responded. "My husband, a lord of a small house in the North, was exiled from Westeros, and when he forced me to join him here in Lys, I met Tregar." That seemed like a simple enough story to Aurion, but he supposed the woman did leave out certain details. She looked back to Aurion through her long eyelashes, "but no man I have ever come upon is even half as handsome as you, Your Imperial Majesty," she said, winking. "Perhaps I can help service you before I return to my home."
Aurion chuckled, "I wouldn't dare make such a lovely noblewoman a prisoner in her palace. Feel free to roam as you wish, I will only remain here a few days."
The woman giggled as she rose, and Aurion watched the sway of her hips as she left the main hall. "That woman is poison," he heard from his right. Tregar Ormollen's wife. Less comely than the Hightower woman, wearing far fewer pieces of jewelry.
"I assure you, I am most diligent with my own protection" Aurion assured her, heading off to the bedchambers reserved for esteemed guests, of which Aurion considered himself one. He had finished stripping off his armor when he heard a knock at the door, followed by a creak and light footsteps.
"Your guards said I had permission," she whispered loudly. Aurion turned, and gone were the many necklaces and rings and jewels, but just a beautiful woman in a most revealing silk dress. In her hands were two chalices of white Lysene wine. "You know, those guards were far too groping when they checked me for a weapon," She extended the one in her right hand to Aurion.
"I shall ensure such rough treatment never occurs again," he took the one in her left hand. Shrugging, she drank from her chalice and sat on the bed, crossing her legs with a grin playing on her lips.
"What would the resurrected Emperor of Valyria want with me?"
"Why did you enter my chambers?" Aurion countered, setting down his chalice and stepping towards her. She stood and closed the distance further, and being a head shorter than him, leaned into his chest.
"Tregar was never a good lover," she whispered, tracing her soft fingers on Aurion's chest, brushing over the spot where his scar lay. "You saw how much of a miserable crone his wife was," she tittered.
"Call me arrogant, but I do believe I leave women quite satisfied," he muttered in her ear. She wrapped one leg around his waist, and he could feel her soft breath on his chest. "Presumptuous, aren't we? What if I had a wife?"
"Tregar has a wife," she giggled. "Besides, you're an emperor. I hear the God Emperors of Yi Ti in the east have hundreds of concubines."
"A God Emperor, is that what you think I am?"
"Have you heard your men, Your Divine Majesty?" Lynesse said coyly, emphasizing her given title. "Many follow R'hllor, and call you his Avatar. Azor Ahai reborn. That sounds like a God Emperor to me."
Aurion shrugged, pulling her arm off him and twirling her around his arms, "But not all my people follow the Red faith."
"What else do they follow in Volantis? The gods of Valyria? Aurion, you are Valyria. The Targaryens are dead, and they lost their dragons centuries ago. You have a dragon, the most beautiful one in history. Almost as beautiful as you," she added, stepping back and sitting on the bed. "You can be my god, Aurion. My handsome God Emperor." Aurion sat down next to her, putting his hands on the back of her dress.
"Stop that!" Lynesse giggled as she playfully swatted his hand. "You think I sleep with just any handsome, wealthy man?" Aurion furrowed his eyebrows. She was a concubine, after all. "I want to know about you first! Hear your voice! How about… tell me about your family! You say you lived in Old Valyria?"
Aurion's smile faded. "My father, Aerys Varezys, was most expectant. Before he was elected Primarch by the Senate, he was Archon of Meereen. He also personally owned the province of Gogossos, where he spent much of his time. I was actually born there, to my father's eldest sister-wife."
Lynesse twirled her hair, "Multiple wives, I see. I'm afraid I can't be your sister, too," she giggled.
Aurion chuckled humorlessly, all his sisters were now dead anyways. All his kin was. "My mother died giving birth to me, and my aunts- my father's other wives, did not favor me much, as my father only had eyes for me as opposed to my younger half-siblings. He and my uncle Daemion, a sworn mage of the Order, spent much of their time instructing me in the ways of sorcery."
"So you know magic?" Lynesse asked, tilting her head and widening her eyes. "Can you show me?"
Aurion grinned, "Aye I'll show you some magic." He moved his hand between Lynesse's legs, which opened instinctively and got to work with his fingers.
As the sun fell, he used her in every way a man could use a woman. "Yes, Aurion," she muttered, facing the wall away from Aurion as he released her hair from his tight grasp, "I can still bear you sons and daughters. Heirs and their wives. Let me be yours."
Aurion could not help but smile, breathing heavily from their activities. He supposed he did need to worry about succession if he happened to die, someone to inherit his name. And a Hightower would not be the worst bride, though he should probably take some Essosi wives as well.
Lynesse slowly turned her head, and her beautiful blue eyes bore straight into Aurion's. He heard crackling ice and the room turned cold. Her lips, covered in his seed, made movements, but he could not hear them. The wind howled in his ear, and he heard laughter. He walked to the side of the room and grabbed his abandoned chalice, still full of wine.
Poison, he remembered Tregar's wife's words. "Is that what this was?" He raised the chalice.
Her eyes widened in confusion, and she continued to move her mouth. He lunged for her neck, holding her down as he forced the white wine into her mouth. "Poison me, then have my child– or at least one that looks like me– to claim my Empire. As if I would ever fall for such a ploy. Drink!" He commanded, ignoring her gasping.
Her lips made movements, reading her lips it was prayers to the gods of the Andals. False gods, just like all the rest. "Mother? Crone? Stranger? There is one God here Lynesse, you said so yourself. Only one God can save you now. Pray to him! Pray to me!"
He ripped her from the bed, holding her in the air with one arm as she scratched and kicked futilely above the ground. He squeezed her neck harder, seeing a glint of red reflecting from her blue eyes, until all the light was gone. The wind faded, the cold receded, the laughter faded, and Aurion staggered back.
His hands had red on them.
Her blood.
Dead. She was dead.
He killed her.
Why?
What had come upon him?
"Guards!" He called. "Guards! P… poison!" He lied. As the door crashed open, Aurion crossed the room, looking out the window as Aegarax roared. He saw golden light in the south, he was burning the city. He forced his breaths slower and closed his eyes. Once more, he was in Aegarax's body, and they were one. Before him was a burnt home, in the slums where fires had raged earlier from the looting. Aurion flapped his wings and sent Aegarax to circle around.
"Your Majesty?" he was shaken from his sight. A legionnaire, "If you drank the poison, you must see a healer-" Aurion shook his head.
"Dismissed. Take the body," he murmured. He gestured for his clothes to be tossed to him, and he dressed himself as they carried away Lynesse Hightower. He would send a letter to the Lord of Hightower, expressing sincere regret for his daughter's passing during the battle, and offering a thousand gold aureii in recompense.
Lynesse had drank from the cup she had offered him. There was no poison. But he had to say there was. And in that case, the guards stationed at his door would have to be executed for their supposed incompetence in allowing an assassin to enter his chambers. Lest he look weak for permitting negligence among his guards to go unpunished. He switched to another chamber for the night, but he found no sleep.
