Forged in Fire: A Targaryen's Redemption- Aerys SI

by Mtle232

William Thompson, a man from our world, sacrifices his life to save his girlfriend from a tragic accident. But his story doesn't end there. His soul and mind are transported to the body of Aerys Targaryen, who had just drunkenly challenged Bonifer Hasty to a duel in a jealous rage. Now, in the heart of Westeros, William must navigate the complexities of Aerys's life

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Flames of the Past

Aerys POV

The sun had barely risen over King's Landing when I found myself once again standing before the imposing doors of the Alchemists' Guild. The early morning mist clung to the cobblestones, giving the street an otherworldly appearance that seemed fitting for the task at hand. Ser Gwayne stood silently beside me, his white cloak rippling gently in the breeze.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the conversation to come. The weight of the small velvet pouch hanging from my belt seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment. Inside, nestled safely in layers of soft cloth, was a dragon egg - a relic of my family's storied past and, I hoped, the key to its future.

As the doors creaked open, revealing the dim interior of the guildhall, I couldn't help but reflect on the events that had led me to this moment. The meeting with the alchemists about artificial fertilizers had gone better than I could have hoped. In the weeks since, the guild had thrown themselves into the project with an enthusiasm that surprised even me. But today's visit was about something far more personal, far more dangerous.

Wisdom Rossart greeted us at the entrance, his piercing green eyes glinting in the torchlight. "Prince Aerys," he intoned, bowing slightly. "We were intrigued by your message. You spoke of matters concerning... fire and blood?"

I nodded; my voice low but firm. "Indeed, Wisdom Rossart. What we discuss today must remain in the strictest confidence. The fate of my house - and perhaps the realm itself - may hang in the balance."

Rossart's eyebrows rose slightly, but he simply gestured for me to follow him deeper into the guildhall. We passed through winding corridors lined with bubbling alchemical apparatus; the air thick with strange, acrid scents. Finally, we entered a circular chamber, its walls lined with ancient tomes and mysterious artifacts.

Once we were seated, I reached for the pouch at my belt. With reverent care, I withdrew the dragon egg, its scaled surface shimmering with deep purple and gold hues in the flickering candlelight.

A collective gasp went up from the assembled alchemists. Rossart leaned forward, his eyes wide with wonder. "Is that truly...?"

I nodded solemnly. "A dragon egg, yes. One of the few remaining legacies of my family's bond with the great beasts that once ruled the skies of Westeros." I placed the egg gently on the table before me. "Gentlemen, I've come to you today with a question - and a challenge. Is it possible to hatch this egg? To bring dragons back to the world?"

The chamber erupted in excited whispers. Rossart held up a hand for silence, his gaze never leaving the egg. "Prince Aerys," he said slowly, "what you ask is... unprecedented. The art of hatching dragon eggs has been lost for generations."

"I'm well aware," I replied, leaning forward. "But if anyone has the knowledge and skill to rediscover that art, it's the Alchemists' Guild. You've devoted your lives to unraveling the mysteries of fire and transmutation. Surely the secret of awakening a dragon can't be beyond your grasp?"

One of the younger alchemists, a man with bright, eager eyes, spoke up. "Your Grace, if I may - there are legends, ancient texts that speak of the hatching of dragon eggs. They mention great pyres, blood sacrifices, and mystical incantations."

I nodded, having expected this. "I've read those accounts as well. But I believe there must be more to it than mere ritual. Dragons are creatures of magic, yes, but they're also living beings. There must be a... scientific approach we can take."

Rossart stroked his chin thoughtfully. "You speak of applying alchemical principles to the hatching process? An intriguing notion, Your Grace. But where would we even begin?"

I smiled, feeling a rush of excitement. This was where my knowledge from my past life could truly shine. "Let's start with what we know about eggs in general," I began. "All eggs require specific conditions to hatch - the right temperature, humidity, and sometimes movement. Dragon eggs, being magical in nature, likely require something more, but these basic principles should still apply."

I stood, beginning to pace as I often did when my mind was racing. "We know that dragons are creatures of fire. So, temperature is clearly crucial. But it can't be just any heat - dragon fire is said to be magical in nature. Perhaps we need to recreate those specific conditions."

The alchemists were listening intently now, their initial skepticism giving way to intellectual curiosity. Rossart nodded slowly. "We have certain mixtures that burn hotter than any natural fire. Perhaps a combination of these could replicate the heat of dragon fire."

"Exactly," I said, my excitement building. "But heat alone isn't enough. We need to consider the egg's environment as a whole. In nature, a mother dragon would likely tend to her eggs, perhaps breathing on them periodically. We need to recreate those conditions as closely as possible."

I turned to the young alchemist who had spoken earlier. "You mentioned blood sacrifices in the old texts. While I'm not advocating for anything so extreme, it does make me wonder - could the addition of blood, perhaps from a Targaryen, provide some necessary element?"

The chamber fell silent as the alchemists considered this. Finally, Rossart spoke. "It's possible, Your Grace. Blood magic is a powerful and little-understood force. If the bond between Targaryen's and dragons is indeed in the blood, it could be a crucial component."

I nodded, my mind already racing ahead. "We'll need to design some sort of incubation chamber. Something that can maintain a constant, intense heat while also allowing us to control humidity and introduce other elements as needed."

I began to sketch on a piece of parchment, my hand moving quickly as I outlined my ideas. "I'm thinking of a multi-layered structure. The innermost chamber would house the egg itself, surrounded by a layer of our hottest-burning substances. Then an outer layer where we can introduce steam or other elements to control humidity."

The alchemists gathered around, their eyes widening as they took in my design. It was unlike anything they had seen before - a perfect blend of alchemical knowledge and scientific principles that none of them fully understood.

"This is... remarkable, Your Grace," Rossart said, his voice filled with admiration. "But the materials required, the precision needed to construct such a device - it would be an enormous undertaking."

I met his gaze steadily. "I'm aware of the challenges, Wisdom Rossart. But think of the potential rewards. If we succeed, we won't just be hatching a dragon - we'll be rewriting the future of Westeros itself."

I looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each alchemist in turn. "I'm not asking you to do this alone. I'll provide whatever resources you need - gold, materials, access to the royal libraries. And I'll be here every step of the way, working alongside you."

A murmur of excitement ran through the room. The alchemists began to discuss among themselves, throwing out ideas and suggestions. I let them talk, knowing that their collective knowledge would be crucial to the success of this endeavor.

After several minutes, Rossart held up a hand for silence. "Prince Aerys," he said solemnly, "what you propose is the greatest challenge our guild has ever faced. It goes beyond alchemy; beyond anything we've ever attempted." He paused, a slow smile spreading across his face. "We accept."

I felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over me. "Thank you, Wisdom Rossart. I knew I could count on the Alchemists' Guild. Now, let's get to work. We have a dragon to wake."

The next few hours were a whirlwind of activity. I worked alongside the alchemists, poring over ancient texts, debating theories, and beginning to sketch out more detailed plans for the incubation chamber. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, I found myself lost in the intellectual thrill of the challenge.

It was mid-afternoon when Ser Gwayne, who had been standing quietly in the corner, cleared his throat. "Your Grace," he said apologetically, "I hate to interrupt, but you have a small council meeting scheduled soon."

I looked up, startled to realize how much time had passed. "Of course, thank you, Ser Gwayne." I turned to Rossart. "I'll need to take my leave, but I'll return tomorrow. In the meantime, please continue your research. And remember - absolute secrecy is crucial."

Rossart nodded solemnly. "You have our word, Your Grace. We'll guard this secret with our lives."

As I made my way back to the Red Keep, my mind was still buzzing with ideas and possibilities. The challenge ahead was immense, but for the first time since I'd found myself in this world, I felt truly alive. This was what I was meant to do - to use my knowledge, my unique perspective, to change the course of history.

But as I entered the small council chamber, seeing the familiar faces of my father and the other council members, reality came crashing back. I was still Prince Aerys, heir to the Iron Throne. I had responsibilities, expectations to meet. How could I balance my secret project with my duties to the realm?

As the meeting began, I found it hard to focus. My mind kept drifting back to the Alchemists' Guild, to the dragon egg waiting to be awakened. But I forced myself to pay attention, to engage in the discussions about crop yields and trade agreements. After all, if I succeeded in hatching a dragon, it would change everything. I needed to ensure the realm was strong and stable, ready for the return of the dragons.

As the meeting drew to a close, my father, Prince Jaehaerys, pulled me aside. "Aerys," he said, his voice low with concern, "you seemed distracted today. Is everything alright?"

I forced a smile. "Of course, Father. I've just been caught up in some research. Nothing to worry about."

Jaehaerys studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well. But remember, Aerys - you're to be king one day. The realm must always come first."

I felt a pang of guilt at the lie, but I pushed it aside. "I understand, Father. I won't forget my duties."

As I walked back to my chambers, my mind was already racing ahead to the next day, to the challenges that awaited me at the Alchemists' Guild. I knew the path ahead would be difficult, fraught with danger and uncertainty. But I also knew that if I succeeded, I would change the world forever.

The next morning, I rose before dawn, my mind already whirring with ideas. I had spent half the night poring over old Targaryen journals, searching for any clues about dragon rearing that might have been passed down through the generations. As I dressed, I mentally reviewed the day's agenda - a morning at the Alchemists' Guild, followed by meetings with my advisors and a public appearance in the city.

I was just fastening my cloak when a knock came at the door. "Enter," I called, expecting to see Ser Gwayne.

To my surprise, it was Rhaella who stepped into the room. My sister's violet eyes were clouded with concern as she studied me. "Aerys," she said softly, "you've been so distant lately. What's troubling you?"

I felt a pang of guilt. I had been so focused on my secret project that I had been neglecting my relationships. "I'm sorry, Rhaella," I said, moving to embrace her. "I've just been... preoccupied with some important work."

Rhaella returned the embrace, but when she pulled back, her gaze was searching. "This wouldn't have anything to do with your visits to the Alchemists' Guild, would it?"

I stiffened slightly. "How did you know about that?"

My sister smiled wryly. "I have my sources. And I know you, brother. You're up to something big, aren't you?"

For a moment, I was tempted to confide in her. Rhaella had always been my closest confidante, my staunchest supporter. But the risk was too great. "It's... complicated, Rhaella," I said finally. "I promise, when the time is right, I'll tell you everything. But for now, I need you to trust me."

Rhaella studied me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Very well, Aerys. But remember - you don't have to bear every burden alone. When you're ready to share, I'll be here."

Touched by her understanding, I squeezed her hand gratefully. "Thank you, sister. That means more than you know."

As I made my way to the Alchemists' Guild, my mind was already racing ahead to the day's work. I had spent hours the previous night sketching designs for the incubation chamber, incorporating ideas from my past life's knowledge of physics and engineering.

When I arrived at the guildhall, I found the alchemists already hard at work. The circular chamber had been transformed into a makeshift laboratory, with tables covered in bubbling alchemical apparatus and stacks of ancient tomes.

Wisdom Rossart greeted me with a respectful nod. "Your Grace, we've made some progress overnight. We believe we've identified a combination of substances that might replicate the heat of dragon fire."

I leaned in, examining the strange, shimmering liquid in a nearby crucible. "Excellent work. Have you tested its burning properties yet?"

"Not yet, Your Grace," Rossart replied. "We wanted to wait for your arrival before proceeding."

I nodded approvingly. "Good thinking. Let's set up a controlled burn and see what we're dealing with."

For the next hour, I worked alongside the alchemists, carefully measuring and mixing substances, adjusting ratios, and documenting results. It was exhilarating work, combining the precision of science with the unpredictability of alchemy. As we worked, I found myself explaining concepts like thermal conductivity and combustion rates, watching as the alchemists' eyes lit up with understanding.

Finally, we were ready for the test burn. I stepped back as Rossart carefully poured a small amount of the mixture into a specially prepared pit. With a word of caution, he dropped in a lit taper.

The result was spectacular. Flames erupted from the pit, reaching heights of several feet. But it wasn't just the size of the flames that was impressive - it was their color. Instead of the usual orange or yellow, these flames burned with a fierce, almost blinding white-blue light.

"By the Seven," one of the younger alchemists breathed. "It's beautiful."

I nodded, my mind racing. "The color suggests an extremely high temperature. We'll need to measure it precisely, of course, but this looks promising."

As the flames died down, I turned to Rossart. "This is excellent progress, but it's only the first step. We need to find a way to sustain this heat over long periods without constant tending."

Rossart stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Perhaps a system of carefully regulated fuel lines? We could design a chamber with multiple layers, each feeding the fire in turns."

"Good thinking," I agreed. "We'll also need to consider ventilation. Too much oxygen and we risk an explosion, too little and the fire will die out."

As we discussed possibilities, I began to sketch out a more detailed design for the incubation chamber. It would be a complex piece of engineering, combining principles of thermodynamics with alchemical innovations. But as I worked, explaining concepts and answering questions, I felt a surge of confidence. This was what I was meant to do - to bridge the gap between the knowledge of my past life and the magic of this world.

The morning passed in a blur of calculations, experiments, and heated debates. By the time Ser Gwayne appeared to remind me of my afternoon commitments, we had made significant progress on the chamber design and had a list of materials to source.

As I prepared to leave, Rossart approached me with a thoughtful expression. "Your Grace, if I may... your knowledge of these matters is remarkable. Far beyond what one would expect, even from a prince of the blood."

I felt a momentary flash of panic. I had gotten so caught up in the work that I had perhaps revealed too much. But I forced myself to remain calm. "I've always had an interest in natural philosophy, Wisdom Rossart. And the Targaryen libraries contain much forgotten knowledge."

Rossart nodded slowly, but I could see the curiosity burning in his eyes. "Of course, Your Grace. It's just that some of the concepts you've introduced... they're quite revolutionary."

I placed a hand on the older man's shoulder. "The world is full of wonders, Wisdom Rossart. Sometimes, we just need to look at old problems in new ways." I paused, choosing my next words carefully. "That's why I chose to come to the Alchemists' Guild. You've always been at the forefront of innovation in the realm. Together, I believe we can achieve the impossible."

Rossart seemed satisfied with this explanation, nodding respectfully. "You honor us with your trust, Your Grace. We won't let you down."

As I made my way back to the Red Keep, my mind was already racing ahead to the next steps. We had made good progress on the heat source, but there were still so many variables to consider. The humidity levels, the positioning of the egg, the potential need for movement or rotation - each element would need to be carefully tested and calibrated.

I was so lost in thought that I almost collided with Tywin Lannister as I entered the keep. The young Lannister's green eyes narrowed slightly as he steadied me. "Your Grace," he said, his tone carefully neutral. "You seem preoccupied. Is everything alright?"

I forced a smile, inwardly cursing my lack of attention. Tywin was far too observant for comfort sometimes. "Just lost in thought, Tywin. There's always so much to consider when it comes to running a kingdom."

Tywin nodded, though I could see the curiosity in his eyes. "Indeed. Speaking of which, I wondered if I might have a word with you about the trade negotiations with the Free Cities?"

For a moment, I was tempted to brush him off, to return to my chambers and continue working on my plans for the incubation chamber. But I knew I couldn't afford to neglect my duties - or to arouse suspicion. "Of course, Tywin. Why don't we discuss it over lunch?"

As we made our way to my solar, I found myself genuinely engaging in the conversation about trade routes and tariffs. It was a reminder that, as exciting as the dragon project was, I couldn't lose sight of my broader responsibilities to the realm.

After lunch, I had a few hours before my next scheduled appointment. I retreated to my chambers, pulling out the notes and sketches I'd made at the Alchemists' Guild. As I reviewed them, I couldn't help but marvel at how far we'd come in such a short time.

The basic design of the incubation chamber was taking shape. It would be a multi-layered structure, with the egg housed in the innermost chamber. Surrounding this would be a layer filled with the special alchemical mixture we had developed, providing the intense heat needed. Beyond that would be a series of chambers and tubes allowing for the careful regulation of temperature and humidity.

But as I studied the design, I realized we were missing something crucial. In nature, a mother dragon wouldn't just provide heat - she would likely tend to the egg in other ways as well. Perhaps turning it, or even breathing on it periodically.

I began to sketch out ideas for a mechanism that could gently rotate the egg at regular intervals. It would need to be precise and reliable, able to function consistently over long periods. As I worked, I found myself drawing on knowledge from my past life - concepts of gears and clockwork that were far beyond the typical technology of Westeros.

A knock at the door startled me out of my concentration. Hastily covering my sketches, I called out, "Enter!"

It was my father, Prince Jaehaerys, who stepped into the room. I felt a momentary flash of guilt - I had been so absorbed in my secret project that I had been neglecting my family duties.

"Father," I said, rising to greet him. "I apologize, I've been rather caught up in my work."

Jaehaerys waved off the apology, but I could see the concern in his eyes. "You've been working a great deal lately, Aerys. The servants tell me you're often up late into the night, poring over old tomes."

I nodded, choosing my words carefully. "I've been researching our family history, Father. Trying to understand the source of our strength, our connection to the dragons."

At the mention of dragons, Jaehaerys' eyes sharpened. "The dragons have been gone for over a century, Aerys. It's important to honor our history, but we must also look to the future."

"But what if the dragons are our future, Father?" I asked, unable to keep the passion from my voice. "What if there was a way to bring them back?"

Jaehaerys studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed. "Aerys, I understand the allure of such dreams. But we must be practical. The realm needs a strong, stable ruler, not one chasing after impossible fantasies."

I felt a flash of frustration, but I forced it down. I couldn't reveal too much, not yet. "I understand, Father. But surely there's no harm in research? In trying to understand our past so we can better shape our future?"

Jaehaerys nodded slowly. "Research is one thing, Aerys. But don't let it distract you from your duties. The realm must always come first."

As my father left, I sank back into my chair, my mind whirling. I knew he meant well, but I couldn't help feeling frustrated. If only I could explain, could show him the progress we were making at the Alchemists' Guild.

But I knew it was too soon. The project was still too fragile, too uncertain. I needed more time, more progress before I could risk revealing it to anyone else.

With a sigh, I turned back to my sketches. There was still so much work to be done.

The next few weeks passed in a blur of activity. I divided my time between my duties at court and my secret work with the Alchemists' Guild. Progress on the incubation chamber was steady but slow. Each element had to be carefully tested and refined, often requiring multiple attempts before we got it right.

The heat source was proving particularly challenging. While we had managed to create a substance that burned hot enough, sustaining that heat over long periods without constant tending was proving difficult. I found myself drawing on half-remembered lessons from my past life about thermal conductivity and insulation, working with the alchemists to develop new materials that could withstand the intense heat.

One afternoon, as we were testing a new configuration of the heating chamber, Wisdom Rossart approached me with a thoughtful expression. "Your Grace," he said hesitantly, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you about."

I looked up from the apparatus I was adjusting. "Yes, Wisdom Rossart?"

The older man seemed to struggle with his words for a moment before continuing. "Some of the concepts you've introduced... they're unlike anything I've encountered in all my years of study. The way you speak of heat and energy, of mechanical systems... it's truly remarkable. May I ask where you acquired such knowledge?"

I felt a chill run down my spine. I had known this moment might come eventually, but I had hoped to have more time to prepare. I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully.

"Wisdom Rossart," I began, "my knowledge comes from many sources. I've spent countless hours studying our family's ancient texts, some of which contain wisdom from Old Valyria itself. And I've always had a keen interest in the natural world and how it works."

Rossart's eyes widened with interest. "Valyrian knowledge? That would indeed explain much. But even so, Your Grace, your insights seem to go beyond even that."

I nodded, allowing a small smile. "I've also had... let's call them intuitions. Ideas that come to me, sometimes in dreams, sometimes in moments of deep concentration. I don't always understand where they come from, but I've learned to trust them."

Rossart studied me for a long moment, his expression a mix of awe and curiosity. "Truly, Your Grace, you are blessed by the gods. To have such insights... it's no wonder you've been able to make such remarkable progress."

I placed a hand on his shoulder. "The progress we've made is a result of all our efforts, Wisdom Rossart. Your expertise and the dedication of the guild have been invaluable. Now, shall we get back to work? We have a dragon to wake, after all."

Rossart nodded eagerly, his earlier doubts seemingly forgotten. "Of course, Your Grace. Let us continue our great work."

With renewed energy, we threw ourselves back into our work. The revelation seemed to have energized Rossart, who now approached our experiments with an almost feverish intensity. His questions became more pointed, more insightful, as he sought to understand the principles behind my ideas.

As we returned to our tasks, I felt a mix of relief and guilt. I hated keeping secrets from Rossart, who had become something of a friend and confidant. But I knew that the truth of my situation was too dangerous, too unbelievable to share. For now, at least, it was better this way.

As the days turned into weeks, the incubation chamber began to take shape. It was a marvel of engineering and alchemy, unlike anything that had ever existed in Westeros before. The outer layer was crafted from a specially developed ceramic that could withstand extreme temperatures. Within this was a complex system of tubes and chambers, carefully designed to regulate heat and humidity.

At the heart of it all was the egg chamber itself. I had designed a cradle that would gently rotate the egg at regular intervals, mimicking the attention a mother dragon might provide. The chamber was lined with a soft, heat-resistant material that I had developed based on my knowledge of modern insulation techniques.

But despite our progress, I couldn't shake a nagging feeling that something was missing. The chamber could provide heat and humidity, could turn the egg and keep it safe. But dragons were creatures of magic as much as flesh and blood. Was technology alone enough to wake one from its slumber?

It was during one of my late-night research sessions that I stumbled upon a possible answer. I was reading an ancient Valyrian text, one of the few that had survived the Doom, when a passage caught my eye. It spoke of the bond between dragon and rider, of the magic that flowed through Valyrian blood.

Excitement coursed through me as I read on. The text suggested that this bond wasn't just spiritual, but physical - that the blood of the dragon lords contained some essence that could awaken the beasts.

The next morning, I arrived at the Alchemists' Guild earlier than usual, my mind buzzing with new ideas. I quickly gathered Rossart and the other senior alchemists, sharing my discovery.

"We've been approaching this all wrong," I explained, pacing the room as I often did when excited. "We've been thinking of the egg as just a physical object, something that needs the right external conditions to hatch. But it's more than that - it's a magical artifact, tied to the blood of my family."

Rossart nodded slowly, his eyes lighting up with understanding. "You're suggesting we need to incorporate blood magic into our efforts?"

I nodded eagerly. "Exactly. The texts speak of the bond between dragon and rider being sealed in blood. What if that bond begins even before the dragon hatches? What if my blood - Targaryen blood - is the missing ingredient we need?"

The alchemists exchanged glances, a mix of excitement and apprehension on their faces. Blood magic was a dangerous and little-understood field, even for them. But the potential...

"It's risky," one of the older alchemists cautioned. "Blood magic is unpredictable at the best of times. And using royal blood... the consequences could be severe if anything went wrong."

I waved off the concern. "The risk is mine to take. And the potential reward far outweighs any danger to myself. If this works, we won't just be hatching a dragon - we'll be changing the course of history."

Over the next few days, we worked tirelessly to modify the incubation chamber. A new system of delicate glass tubes was added, designed to carry small amounts of blood from a reservoir to the egg chamber itself. I insisted on testing it extensively with animal blood before I would consider using my own.

Finally, after countless adjustments and refinements, we were ready. The chamber hummed with energy, the alchemical mixtures burning with that eerie white-blue flame. The egg sat in its cradle, its scaled surface gleaming in the ethereal light.

I stood before the chamber, a small knife in my hand. I could feel the weight of the moment, the enormity of what we were about to attempt. Rossart stood beside me, concern etched on his features.

"Your Grace," he said softly, "are you certain about this? Once we begin, there may be no turning back."

I met his gaze steadily. "I've never been more certain of anything in my life, Wisdom Rossart. This is what I was meant to do - to bring magic and dragons back to Westeros."

With a deep breath, I raised the knife to my palm. The cut stung, but I barely noticed as I watched my blood - the blood of Old Valyria, of Aegon the Conqueror - drip into the waiting reservoir.

As the first drops of blood reached the egg chamber, the air seemed to thicken with tension. For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, almost imperceptibly at first, the egg began to move.

A hushed silence fell over the room as everyone watched, barely daring to breathe. The movements became more pronounced, the egg rocking gently in its cradle. And then, finally, we heard it - a soft cracking sound, barely audible over the hum of the machinery.

I felt my heart racing, my palms sweating as I watched a small fissure appear in the egg's surface. It was happening. After all our work, all our planning, it was finally happening.

As the crack widened, a tiny claw emerged, followed by a snout. And then, with a final push, the shell split open, revealing a small, perfect dragon. Its scales gleamed with the same deep purple and gold hues as the egg, its eyes a brilliant amethyst as it blinked in the light of its new world.

For a moment, no one moved or spoke. The only sound was the soft chirping of the newborn dragon as it struggled free of the last bits of its shell. Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, I stepped forward, reaching out to the tiny creature.

The dragon turned its head, meeting my gaze. In that moment, I felt something - a connection, a bond forming between us. Without hesitation, I scooped the dragon into my hands, cradling it gently against my chest.

As the reality of what we had accomplished began to sink in, the room erupted in cheers and exclamations of wonder. Rossart approached cautiously, his eyes wide with awe as he gazed at the tiny dragon.

"By all the gods, old and new," he breathed. "We've done it. We've actually done it."

I nodded, unable to take my eyes off the small creature in my arms. "We've done more than that, Wisdom Rossart," I said softly. "We've changed everything."

As I stood there, holding the first dragon to be born in over a century, I knew that this was just the beginning. The road ahead would be fraught with challenges - raising the dragon, keeping its existence secret until the time was right, navigating the political ramifications of its return.

But in that moment, feeling the warmth of the dragon against my chest, hearing its soft chirps, I knew that it was all worth it. I had taken the first step towards reshaping the future of Westeros. The dragons were back, and with them, the dawn of a new age was breaking.

Author's Note:

Writing this chapter was an exhilarating experience. I wanted to capture the essence of Aerys' determination and the thrill of scientific discovery, while also hinting at the potential consequences of his actions. The process of hatching a dragon egg allowed me to blend elements of fantasy with a more analytical, almost scientific approach - something I feel adds a unique flavor to the story.

I found myself deeply immersed in Aerys' perspective, feeling his excitement and apprehension as the project progressed. It was important to me to show his brilliance and vision, but also his growing obsession and the seeds of the isolation that might lead to his future instability.

The scene where the dragon finally hatches was particularly emotional to write. I tried to convey the wonder and significance of the moment, not just for Aerys, but for the entire world of the story. It's a turning point that will have far-reaching consequences, and I hope readers feel the weight of that moment.

Balancing the technical details of the incubation process with the magical elements of dragon lore was a challenge, but one I greatly enjoyed. I hope this blend of science and magic adds depth to the world and makes the process of hatching a dragon feel both wondrous and grounded in a kind of logic.

As always, I'm deeply grateful to my readers for joining me on this journey. The next chapters will explore the ramifications of this momentous event, and I can't wait to share them with you.