The Moon's Guidance
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Languages:
Common Tongue
Valyrian
Dothraki
Chapter 20: The House of the Undying
Alysanne's POV
Doreah has betrayed us.
Doreah gave Rhaego to the Warlocks.
She stole the dragon eggs.
She attacked Irri.
So many emotions were stirring inside me. I know Doreah had a hard upbringing. How her mother sold her into the pleasure house as a child. Her training and being a servant there, until she came of age. Then Magister Illyrio bought her to be Viserys's mistress. Then had a second obligation of being Daenerys's handmaiden. Daenerys treated her more than a handmaiden, but her friend. Even I have. We have welcomed her. Gave her more freedom than any slave. In fact, she, Irri, and Jhiqiu were free long ago.
After Daenerys and Drogo's death, she joined our company. I assured her she still had her freedom. Although she gave the illusion of being a handmaiden in order to stay safe. A free slave can be captured again versus a servant. Throughout the journey, I kept telling her she was free. Even when we reach Pentos, she is her own person.
And she betrayed us.
What could the Warlocks have offered to betray us?
I glance at everyone, seeing the anger in Rakharo's since Doreah hurt his lover and sold the khalakka. Jorah expressed disappointment but also resentment. Irri, despite her injuries, held fury. I had the same fury, despite our beginning…I thought of her as a friend. If I see her again…
I took a deep breath, "We don't have enough time. We need to save Rhaego before…before they do the ritual."
"What ritual?" Irri asked.
I took a deep breath, "Long ago, my great-grandfather Aegon the Unlikely came across several dragon eggs. There was a celebration in one of my family's homes called Summerhall to honor the birth of my brother Rhaegar. …no one knows what happened as many assumed Aegon tried to resurrect the dragons' using magic."
Irri and Rakharo's eyes widened.
"My ancestors of old Valyria…" I took a deep breath. "They did more than tame dragons or conquer territories. They also partook in magic, using dragon magic and…. the dark arts. Experimenting on captured slaves of war…. performing horrendous acts with fire and blood."
Jorah rested a hand on my shoulder. Understanding my ancestors was complicated; he said not all ancestors were good. As the First Men did to the natives of Westeros. Or the Ghiscari, the Dothraki, basically all ancestors were terrible.
"You are saying…" Rakharo started but stopped.
"The Warlocks will use Rhaego to revive the dragons," I finished.
.o0o.
Jorah's POV
The Exiled Knight took Alysanne, Rakharo, and Irri to the House of the Undying outside the city, where a lone building stood. It was a large tower without any visible openings and surrounded by trees. Jorah realized the tree species is used to create Shade of the Evening. He recalls drinking that wine once and regretted thinking the taste was similar to ink. He had a bad feeling about this place, especially when the Warlocks wanted Alysanne here.
If only they didn't have Rhaego.
It would have been a loss if it were the dragon eggs, but they can keep going. Instead, the Warlocks took the boy. A mere boy who was not even two yet. A toddler. At first, he thought Rhaego would be used as a pawn to control Alysanne or use him to take the Seven Kingdoms. Until Alysanne realized why they took both the dragon eggs and Rhaego. They need the blood of old Valyria to revive the dragons. And House Targaryens, with the practice of incest, had more purity than any.
However, there is one problem, Alysanne was more Valyrian than Rhaego. He will have to keep a close eye on her. Protect her. Even though he had trained Alysanne on how to protect herself with a sword, dagger, and self-defense. But with Rhaego involved, she will focus more on the boy than herself.
They stop at the entrance, staring at the tower.
"A house of ghosts. It is known," Rakharo warned.
"It is known," Irri agreed.
They soon reached up to the tower and noticed something was off. There were no guards. No one was there, not even the sound of the birds. Only silence. The exception is the wind blowing through the trees. This caught Jorah and Rakharo's attention; if there is silence, there means trouble.
"Where are the guards?" Rakharo asked.
"No guards," Jorah answered. "The warlocks kill with sorcery, not steel."
Alysanne scowled as she drew her sword, which the men did the same. They walked up the steps into the first layer. When a change in lighting happened, outside it was morning, yet past the walls, it was midday. Let alone they found no door at the entrance.
"Where is the door?" Irri asked.
"It's probably on the other side," Alysanne said. "Split up."
Irri nodded as she stood guard with her dagger, while Rakharo went left and Alysanne went right. Jorah followed her. Jorah tried to keep up with Alysanne, as the dragoness was walking fast. He tried to catch up, making sure his lover was in sight. But quickly she walked, the farther she went. The glint of her silver-gold hair and the purple contrast of her attire.
However, when he reached the other side of the tower, a confused Rakharo stood. Jorah paused, glancing around, ensuring there was no trap door or passage that he had missed. She was right there in front of him, and in a blink, she was gone. Both men run around until coming across Irri.
"Did you see White Sister?" Rakharo asked her.
Irri's eyes widened, "She's gone!?"
All three were shocked in their search. They found no door. They looked up at the tower.
"Alysanne!" Jorah yelled.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
I don't know what just happened. One minute, I was walking outside the House of the Undying until I spotted Rakharo. The moment I was about to call out to him, it was like something grabbed me by the arm and yanked me inside before I could even respond. Now, I was in a dark chamber with a single torch. I could faintly hear Jorah, Rakharo, and Irri.
I held my sword tightly. I took several deep breaths to control my emotions. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Suddenly, I heard crying. Rhaego's cries! My instincts took control as I searched for him.
When I reached the next level, Pyat Pree stood there.
"Where is my nephew?" I demanded.
"He is here, but you must find him and yourself," Pyat Pree replied. "But first…"
Suddenly, I was pinned to a wall by other warlocks. My sword was taken away. I struggled against their hold as I tried to use the defensive moves that Jorah had taught me. However, there were too many of them. One Warlock grabbed me by the throat, forcing my head up, and poured a chalice of blue substance down my throat. It tasted disgusting compared to rotten meat and ink. Before I could spit it out, the Warlock covered his hand over my mouth and pinched my nose. Suffocating me until I swallow. Unable to hold my breath for very long, I swallowed.
The warlocks pulled back as I gasped for air. I knelt down, grabbed my sword, and attacked them, but they vanished. I heaved, keeping my guard up, listening for those that lurk in the shadows. There was silence. No longer could I hear Rhaego.
Fearing what those warlocks have done to Rhaego, I blindly search through the passageways in search of him. All around, it was dark and cold. My head is going obscure from the substance the warlocks gave me. My body became slightly numb and breathing a bit of labor. That was when I started to hear voices. They were indistinctive, crisp voices in a different language. A language that was no common tongue, Dothraki or Valyrian. Feeling the walls, I tried to follow the voices until coming to a door. A sound of groans and moans were heard.
Instead, I faced a beautiful woman sprawled naked on the floor while four men crawled over her. They had rattish pointed faces and tiny pink hands. Each wore some sort of accessory of other animals, as one had antlers, another a wolf's tale, the third strange tentacles, while the last had the tail of a lion. The one with the lion's tail was thrusting his member between the woman's thighs. The one with the antlers savaged her breast, taunting at the nipples with his red mouth, gnawing and chewing. While the wolf and tentacle man teased her body. The woman moaned, cried, and groaned. Unable to handle this, I rushed over to stop these men, except they all vanished, leaving no corpses in the snow. I stared at the woman, her features turning gaunt, pale as snow, while her eyes turning an ice blue, almost like a starburst. The small men were nothing but skeletons and ash. All with those sharp blue eyes.
Until a white wolf came in. A white wolf with red eyes looked at me and then at the bodies on the ground. Was this the fate of Westeros? Nothing but death. The wolf turned to me. The beast gestured to the door as if telling me to go. Telling me not to get involved.
I was still trying to understand what was happening until the white wolf came over, shoving his snout on my stomach. It was like the creature was human, telling me it got this. That he got this. I stumbled back, not sure about what I just saw. Until I was out of the room, and the wolf turned away.
Shaking my head, I felt my way out to the passageway. I stumbled, tripping over something. When I sat up, I saw some sort of creature. It appeared human, with bruising flesh, long nails, and the white of its eyes blue as well. A near decaying corpse. It reached out, whispering my name.
"Alysanne," it whispered.
I stood up and ran, horrified by what I just saw. I found another door and entered, slamming the door shut. I panted, securing the door shut. What madness was this place? It is filled with death and beasts. A soft glow filled the room. I tensed, holding my sword securely before turning around to find myself in the Red Keep. It was one of the royal apartments. A woman lay in bed nursing her baby with white hair. At first, she was no one until my eyes adjusted to seeing her features. She was a frail woman with an olive complexion, long black hair, and deep brown eyes. She was familiar until it registered to me when I saw jewelry of gold and rubies…my sister-in-law, Elia Martell.
"Elia," I called out.
Her head shot up as if she heard me, then glanced to the door where a tall, handsome man entered. He resembled Viserys but was taller and had more muscles. His hair is silver-platinum, and his eyes are deep purple…indigo eyes. His name slipped from my lips, "Rhaegar."
"Aegon," Rhaegar murmured, gently stroking his son's back. "What better name for a king?"
"Will you make a song for him?" Elia asked.
"He has a song," Rhaegar replied. "He is the prince that was promised, and he is the song of ice and fire."
I stood there watching Rhaegar and Elia talk, awing at their son, Aegon. My eyes watered, recalling a small memory of them together. Remembering seeing Aegon in his crib asleep with Rhaenys.
"There must be one more," he said as he turned his head facing me. As if he knew I was there. "The dragon has three heads."
Elia was about to say something, her expression showing slight distress. However, he got up, went to the window seat, picked up a silver harp, and ran his fingers lightly over the strings. Sweet sadness engrossed the room as Rhaegar, Elia, and Aegon faded. Only the music remained.
I placed a hand over my mouth, closing my eyes, trying not to shed tears. Knowing the people in this room suffer a cruel death. Rhaegar was crushed to death by Robert Baratheon's war hammer at the Tridents. Aegon was beaten to death before his first nameday. And Elia…Elia witnessed the death of her children, beaten, raped, and cut in half by the Mountain. A knight who serves Tywin Lannister. The worst was that Rhaegar was the one who anointed Ser Gregor Clegane.
Unable to handle this room, I cracked the door open and stopped to find myself in another room. There was nothing, other than a mirror leaning on the other wall. I saw myself in the reflections, yet something was off, as my reflection wore the golden filigree chest plate. I blinked several times as I came over to get a better view. Noticing a slight blue tinge on the lips.
Yet something told me this was not me. Even though it was my reflection, something was off. We continued to look at each other, our movements mimicking each other, as I touched the glass. Our eyes linger, yet her indigo eyes tell a story. A story filled with more pain, suffering, and anger. Pure, utter outrage. As I watched, the clothes in the reflection changed into black armor. Blood and soot covered her body while her long, elaborate braids became short to reach her shoulders. The anger lingered in her eyes, with burning tears.
Until there was change. An acceptance, all the wrath in her eyes vanished as she stood up straight, her armor dissolving into a golden gown, and a crown appeared on her head. She seemed happy, as if she had accepted, as her hands rested on her swollen stomach. There were three rings on her finger: the ring of kings, a simple metal band on her left ring fingers, and…. a black crown with red rubies.
The Conqueror's Ring.
Was this a possibility of my fate? Or was this a fate I could have had if I had pulled out the conqueror's ring? I touched the pendant on my necklace. The charm of a golden shield with a red dragon. A protector. When I looked in the mirror again, the queen was gone. Instead, I saw my reflection wearing merchant clothing, surrounded by children. I noticed three boys of different ages, one with dark brown hair and two with golden-white hair. Followed by a little girl who looked exactly like me.
Rhaego with my children.
A smile graced my lips to see a possible future.
A future without war and danger.
A happy and safe life.
A man's arm came into the picture to wrap itself around me. Before he could be revealed, the mirror shattered. I covered my face so the shards wouldn't get in my eyes. When I opened them, the mirror shards were massive and, on the ground, showed many images instead of my own. One stood out... Pentos.
I knelt down to see myself in the garden with Daenerys in Magister Illyrio's manse. We were smiling, savoring the peace, until Viserys joined in. My heart tightens, for I remember this moment. It was when Viserys announced he was marrying Daenerys to Khal Drogo. How shocked Daenerys was until I told a servant to take her inside. The argument we had resulted in him grabbing me by the arms and shaking me with a slap to the face that knocked me down. But what I noticed in the shard was the distance, as if someone was spying on us from afar.
The next shard showed the markets in Pentos. Daenerys and I were walking the streets, but there was still a distance as if someone was watching from afar. Until a young boy came over. I couldn't hear, only see what the boy spoke before he was given a scroll.
The other shard had me confused. It was Irri looking down as she seemed to be frustrated, with Rakharo sitting there. It appeared they were bickering until Irri said something that shocked Rakharo and then smiled with joy.
Another shard showed a different location. It took a moment until I realized it was the city of Qohor. A young woman came over speaking, yet no words would come out. She nodded, her dark eyes widened, then nodded before she was given a scroll.
I did not understand what all the shards meant.
Then there was the Vaes Dothrak, the Western market. A boy hidden in the shadows was speaking before handing a scroll. A scroll with the Royal Baratheon Seal.
My chest tightens, realizing someone was spying on us.
The shard shimmer shows from a distance of Daenerys and me with our handmaidens talking to the wine merchant. It took me a moment before I recognized that wine merchant. He gave Daenerys and me two caskets of Red Arbor wine. From what I remember, Daenerys and I never got a chance to drink from the caskets because they were stolen.
The shard continued to show more as it revealed the wine merchant. Inside his stall, away from everyone late in the night. He was screaming and shouting until he was grabbed by the throat, dragged, and drowned in his own wine.
I remember the news of the wine Merchant being found dead. No one could determine how he died. Some said he drank himself to death, while others assumed he was drowned in his own product by someone he offended.
There were no other visions in the mirror shards.
A spy was following me from Pentos to Vaes Dothrak. There is none other. Either this spy was killed or something.
I shook my head, realizing I was being sidetracked and needed to find Rhaego.
As I could hear his screams.
.o0o.
Jorah's POV
Jorah and Rakharo have searched for ways to get inside. Time has passed, and there have been no sightings of him. Jorah worried wondering if Alysanne was still alive. She was safe, or were the Warlocks using her.
How could the warlocks grab her? Then again, Pyat Pree has proven he was not a charlatan with parlor tricks. Especially when he stabbed the Warlock and vanished only to reappear.
"Jorah the Andal," a calm, collected voice said.
Jorah turned around to see it was Quaithe. He questions why she was here. Even though this supposed shadowbinder knows things and has helped him, he still doesn't trust magic. Irri was hesitant as Rakharo drew his arakh.
"Why are you here?" Jorah asked.
Quaithe stared at the Dothraki and then at Jorah, "I heard what has happened. I came to help."
"How?" Jorah asked, not questioning it.
"The warlocks of Qarth are not the only ones with magic," she murmured.
Rakharo scowled, looking at Jorah. No doubt he assumed Quaithe was a witch. However, Jorah had no other choice.
Jorah only nodded. Irri moved closer to Rakharo as the Shadowbinder moved over to the tower. She went to the small window, lacing her hand on it.
"I can open a passageway that will allow one person to get in," she informed. "Your friends are in danger the longer you wait."
"I'll go," Jorah said.
Rakharo almost protested but stopped himself. Instead, the ko nodded. Jorah walked over to Quaithe as the Shadowbinder's dark eyes seemed to glow as shadows formed around the window until it expanded to allow access.
"Go," Quaithe told him.
Not hesitating, Jorah jumped in, and the passage closed behind him. The light vanished as he found himself in a dark corridor. He blinked; his sight nearly vanished. So, he shut his eyes, trying to get accustomed to the darkness.
Until he heard screaming, a child screaming.
Rhaego, Jorah thought.
Immediately, he began to run, searching for the boy and, hopefully, Alysanne.
.o0o.
Alysanne's POV
Rhaego's screams filled the entire tower. Impossible to tell where it was coming from. I ran, searching for him. Fearing the worst of what the Warlocks were doing to him. It wasn't long before I entered a chamber to see Rhaego tied to a table with the dragon eggs while those bruised corpses climbed over him. Many grabbing a limb. Meanwhile, Pyat Pree stood there as if it were a brothel.
"Get your filthy hands off him!" I yelled, tossing the torch at the creatures who crawled on the ground and drew my sword. I saw red as I attacked, using the recently acquired skills to slice the creatures. The moment my sword made contact with their skin, it burned their flesh, cutting right through with ease. I spun, decapitating another one, and stabbed the next in the back. These monsters are wailing and screaming from the injuries I have inflicted. Dark blue blood splattered everywhere.
Everything happened so fast that the undying vanished or lay dead on the ground, turning into dust. I twisted my ankle and aimed the sword at Pyat Pree since he was the last one left.
"He missed his mother," Pyat Pree announced.
I glared at him.
"Unfortunately, neither my brothers nor I can bring back the dead," he added.
"Watch your tongue," I warned him.
Rhaego continues to cry, traumatized. He thrashed through the restraints that held him down. I rested my free hand on his chest to soothe him. Rhaego's screams lessons to cries as he stopped thrashing.
"He wants to be with you," he murmured.
"Do you want to be with him?" another warlock announced, appearing on the other side of the table.
"You will be," Pyat Pree said.
"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded. "Why have you kidnapped Rhaego and stolen the eggs? If you want the eggs, have them. But let us go."
"We can not do that," the second Warlock said.
"Not when the red comet appeared. There has been a stir in our magic once more," Pyat Pree said. "Long ago, when the dragons roamed the sky, our magic was powerful."
"The dragons have gone extinct," I said, keeping my guard. "My family and the brave men killed them off."
"Nearly five decades ago did we sense a spark of magic," Pyat Pree murmured. "When word came about the Tragedy of Summerhall, how King Aegon the Unlikely attempted to resurrect the dragons."
"And half of your House burned away," the second Warlock added.
"But the magic stirred," Pyat Pree continued. "With tragedy and sorrow came gifts. Tell me, Alysanne Targaryen, has the fire been a blessing to you."
I remained silent. I knew something was odd with me after Viserys pushed me into the fire. Daenerys even told me her tails of easily pulling the dragon eggs out of the fire without damage. Now and then, I test that theory by sticking my hand over candles. I can feel the warmth, yet my skin does not burn.
"There is dragon blood in you," he explained. "Blood that can wake the dragons."
"The eggs have been turned to stone," I reminded him. "Nothing can wake them."
"But fire and blood," he countered. "As we search for all the scrolls from Old Valyria."
"So, you're going to sacrifice us to wake the dragons?" I snapped.
"Of course not," the Second Warlock assured. "When the dragons are born, our magic will be born again."
"It is strongest in their presence," Pyat Pree said.
"And they are strongest in yours," the second Warlock added. "With two dragon lords."
A third appeared, "You will be with them, through winter, summer, winter again. Across a thousand, thousands of seasons, you will be with them."
One of the warlocks tried to grab me, but by reflex, I slashed my sword, the Valyrian steel, slicing his hand off. He cried out in pain as blood splattered all over.
The warlocks stepped away, holding his injured arm.
The voices returned as the corpses crawled their way over. I adjusted my blade, was outnumbered, and with Rhaego tied up, I couldn't easily protect him.
"The Undying Ones seek retribution," Pyat Pree said.
"What are they?" I demanded.
"They are us, filled with knowledge." He explained. "We can help you if you help us."
More Warlocks appeared with the Undying Ones. The chamber is being filled. I was overwhelmed, trying to figure out how to escape with Rhaego. He was still tied up, crying. I didn't know what I could do. I can fight and kill as many as possible until they overpower me.
A few dares came close as I fought them over, the Valyrian steel slicing them easily. Many stepped away, cautious. They may have magic, but not enough to instantly stop me.
Suddenly, another person joined the chamber with a sword in hand. Relief filled me to see Jorah. The warlocks were baffled by this as Jorah barged in, fighting away. Taking the distraction, we both fought, trying to fight them off. There was no retribution or sparing them, knowing they would harm others.
A warlock raised his hand, and an unknown wind blasted at me. Forcing me onto the table and knocking me down. I panted, trying to get up, only to see two warlocks grabbing each arm from Jorah as chains appeared. It happened so fast as the chains dragged him to a wall.
"Jorah!" I exclaimed.
Jorah tried to fight the chains, yet his sword was taken. And soon, Pyat Pree held a dagger to his throat. I stopped, glaring at the Warlock.
"Let him go," I growled.
Pyat Pree smirked, "Love. It is such a beautiful and dangerous thing."
I glared at him.
"I thought you would figure it out as you wandered our halls. Seeing the past and present." He continued.
"All I saw was nonsense," I hissed, keeping my sword close.
"Not even the moments when your lover betrayed you," Pyat Pree said.
"What?" I gasped.
"Don't listen to him," Jorah yelled, in fury and…panic.
"He didn't tell you," Pyat Pree murmured. "That he was sending messages to the Spider's little birds."
I stopped staring at Jorah, who was still pinned to the wall. His blue eyes widened in shock as if it were his secrets. And then the mirror shows his betrayal. Jorah was in Pentos. He traveled with us through the Great Grass Sea. He went to Qohor. And that day at the Western Market. He was there and told Varys's Little Birds.
I couldn't breathe as my chest tightened.
"Why should you leave with him," Pyat Pree murmured. "He has betrayed and lied to you."
I clenched my fists, trying to fight the tears.
"Alysanne," Jorah pleaded.
I inhaled sharply and looked at Pyat Pree, "If I do the ritual, will you let them go."
Pyat Pree grinned, "Ser Jorah."
"And Rhaego," I added.
"I don't think that is possible," he murmured.
"I am more Valyrian than Rhaego," I explained. "He is half Dothraki. The Spell won't work on him."
Pyat Pree and his brothers thought about it. Knowing I had a fair point. Daenerys and I never tested the theory that Rhaego is immune to fire. And in my dreams, Visenya has not mentioned it. I am the protector; I must protect those I love. Even if they have betrayed me.
"Very well," Pyat Pree.
"What must I do?" I sighed in relief.
"You must sit in the pyre with the dragon eggs and with one of us," Pyat Pree said. "Spill your blood on them and sing the words that will awaken them."
"I do not know the words," I argued.
"They will come to you," he assured.
"Alysanne, don't!" Jorah yelled, only to be silenced by a gag magically appeared.
I didn't look at Jorah. For I couldn't look at him.
I stared at the Warlocks and moved the table, keeping Rhaego away as a circular pyre was made. The dragon eggs are in the center. I took my place, kneeling before them, and waited. The Warlock I injured volunteered as he sat across from me. He pulled a black stone knife made out of obsidian.
Staring into his eyes, he brought the tip of the obsidian knife to my lips, cutting the bottom to split it. I winced, resisting the urge to suck on it. His gaunt hand adjusted to touch the blood to form a symbol on my forehead. Afterward, he gestured to my hands, which I gave him, and he cut my palms, cutting them deep. I winced as the blood started to pour.
Rhaego's cries could be heard as I sobbed, "Don't let him see this."
As if this was Pyat Pree's mercy, he stood in front of Rhaego, blocking the view. The warlocks took the torches and lit the pyre. The flames swirled around, consuming the pyre. Rhaego's cries and Jorah's muffled sounds could be heard.
Squeezing my fists together, I let my blood drip over the dragon eggs. The fire reached us as the Warlock sat before me and looked at the dragon eggs. Pain could be written on his face, the flames devouring his clothes and burning his flesh. Until he could not hold it any longer and screamed in agony. Meanwhile, the fire dissolved my clothes, leaving me naked, as the flames danced along my skin.
My attention turned to the dragon eggs, picking up the bronze egg. Daenerys said the bronze egg was mine if anything happened to her. I held it, holding memories of those I lost. All those who had parish over greed and power.
The tears fell as I felt like that scared little girl again who wanted her mom. As I hear her voice singing to me. And I began singing the Valyrian lullaby. (A/N: She sings in Valyrian.)
Drakari pykiros
(Fire breather)
Tīkummo jemiros
(Winged leader)
Yn lantyz bartossa
(But two heads)
Saelot vāedis
(To a third sing)
0
Hen ñuhā elēnī:
(From my voice:)
Perzyssy vestretis
(The fires have spoken)
Se gēlȳn irūdaks
(And the price has been paid)
Ānogrose
(With blood magic)
0
Perzyro udrȳssi
(With words of flame)
Ezīmptos laehossi
(With clear eyes)
Hārossa letagon
(To bind the three)
Aōt vāedan
(To you I sing)
0
Hae mērot gierūli:
(As one we gather)
Se hāros bartossi
(And with three heads)
Prūmȳsa sōvīli
(We shall fly as we were destined)
Gevī dāerī
(Beautifully, freely)
Nothing happened. Other than the Warlock is dead. I stared at the bronze dragon egg, seeing nothing. No cracking of the shell. Until I felt a pulse coming from the bronze egg. A slight movement. My breathing increased as I stared at all the black and green eggs.
" Please do not wake," I whispered so low that no one could hear. "The world is not ready for you. But one day, you shall fly."
The pulsing stopped, and they went dormant. I sighed in relief until something appeared. A silhouette of a dragon appeared. A golden swirl shaped like a hatchling; its golden eyes stared at me. My breathing trembled, seeing the spirit of the dragon as the apparition leaned forward to lick my bloody lip and then purred. The same happened with the other two: a black shadow appeared with red eyes, while a green one appeared with orange.
"Help me," I whispered.
All three bobbed their heads as I stood up from the flames while the spirits of the dragons swirled around me. The warlocks' eyes widened in seeing the apparition of the ghosts. The dragons were chirping, singing the song that I just sang.
"Welcome home, Alysanne Targaryen," Pyat Pree said as he came over, yet kept his distance.
"This is not my home," I said.
"Then you will be waiting a long time before you go home," he murmured.
The dragons gave a growl, warning the Warlock to stand back. Pyat Pree tilted his head, confused, staring at the spirits. I gazed at them, the golden dragon curled around my neck, the black entangled in my arms, and the green along my thigh.
"The dragons must have three heads," I murmured.
"The magic of old Valyria runs in your veins," he said.
And that was when I cracked. A dark smirk lifted my lips as I sang the ancient words of the dragon riders.
"Dracarys."
The spirit of the black dragon shot first, getting the Warlock in the arm. Pyat Pree stepped back, trying to extinguish the flames. The green dragon soon joined. The mist of the golden dragon heaved deeply before sending a massive flame into the Warlock's face. Pyat Pree screamed in agony, consumed in dragon fire, turning his body into a charred corpse.
The warlocks gasped in horror. I glared at them as the black and green flew around, though small breaths fired on all the warlocks in the chamber. Their cries echoed through the halls. I stood them, numb, watching the destruction of the House of the Undying.
A warlock rushed over to Rhaego. The black dragon roared, soaring to the attacker and consuming him in dark flame. Killing the Warlock before hovering over Rhaego in a defensive crawl. The golden dragon joined the massacre while I stood there, letting my emotions falter. Seeing the swirling colors of black, gold, and green.
And then it was dark, the warlocks have turned into chard skeletons. The spirits of the dragons flew over to me, and I lost my strength, falling to my knees. They kneel before me, licking my wounds.
"Thank you," I murmured.
All three dragons nodded before crawling back into their eggs.
One day, the dragons will return.
But not today.
All my energy and motivation vanished. As I looked up, I saw the chains that restrained Jorah disappeared. His eyes were wide, filled with wonder. Meanwhile, Rhaego's cries filled my ears. I glance at the table, seeing his mulberry eyes scared.
I reached over to him only to collapse, as the last thing I saw was fire.
What do you all think?
The song used is called Hāros Bartossi also called Damon's song.
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!