AAAAH! Had to do it. I'm sorry, it was just stuck in my head.
Anyway, let us move on.
Have a good read.
At the top of the Red Keep's highest tower, the small council's chamber wasn't left unchecked by nature. Those present had to discuss with voices raised due to the sounds of wind passing through the windows. The curtains flapped non-stop. It was no use to try to light up the candleholders, nor the iron chandeliers to give the room more brightness. Each would be put out once more in mere moments. They would have to accept and endure that natural day light as their sole source. Less than ideal, surely. And the growing storm didn't do them any favors.
King Viserys, first of his name, sat at the head of the council's table, his back turned to the opening leading to the room's balcony. The man currently had a habit of shifting his attention, looking back to the outside to measure the sky's state. And listening to whoever spoke next in the meeting.
All were present at the table today: Otto Hightower, his hand. Grand Maester Mellos. His master of Coin, Lyman Beesbury. The master of Laws, Lyonel Strong. The master of Ships, lord of Driftmark, and husband of his cousin Rhaenys, Corlys Velaryon. Even Daemon, his younger brother, was in attendance, acting as the commander of the city watch.
The same was also the current topic of discussion, and Visery's present headache. Again.
Mayhaps one of the worst to date.
It was the very first topic Otto had informed him of as dawn broke and they walked towards the chamber to get the meeting started.
In the night prior, his brother had made quite a public and bloody show out of his duty for their city. A small army of two thousand gold cloaks under his command rounded up criminals of every ilk throughout the city. Robbers, murderers, rapers, the list goes on. Daemon casted judgment upon them all. Carrying out many executions by his own hand even.
A cleaning of the city in the most brutal sense of the word.
By the time it was done, two carts were needed to haul away the spoils of the dismemberments. Viserys wasn't unfamiliar to the violence and cruelty of the world. He could safely say, however, that his bloodlust paled in comparison to that of his brother's. Not a surprise. It was always clear who was more in touch with the dragon within between the two of them.
A fact that left almost all of the council's members weary of his presence in court. None more than Otto.
Both hand and prince never had quite met eye to eye. The clash of personalities made it impossible so. The years had only widened the gap, turning into straight antagonism from both sides.
The storm brewing outside reflected well their new bout of arguments and trading insults. Much to the king's misery.
"Making a public spectacle of wanton brutality is hardly in line with our laws." Otto pointed out about Daemon's actions in a condescending manner. Interrupting Lord Strong's opinion on the matter when the prince justified himself.
And he continued to do so, unbothered.
"Nobles from every corner of the realm are right now descending on King's Landing for my brother's tourney." He said like it was an obvious fact. "Do you want them to be mugged, raped, murdered under their king's watch ?"
Viserys saw Otto's quiet furry as he shifted his head to the side, holding his tongue against the sound reason Daemon had given. The other members seemed to be of the same mind, deciding to keep their silence as well.
It prompted Daemon to continue.
"You mightn't know this unless you stepped out of the safety of the Red Keep, Lord Hightower, but much of King's Landing is seen by the smallfolk as lawless and terrifying." He turned his gaze to Viserys, stating simply. "Our city should be safe for its people."
As he always tried, the king went to diffuse the enmity between the men, and find a common ground for the matter.
"I agree." He said to Daemon with a nod, before adding. "I would just hope half of it wouldn't have to be maimed to achieve such."
Daemon shrugged his armored shoulders, replying honestly, cleaning the remaining blood stain from his cheek. "Time will tell, brother."
Gods damn you. Viserys privately thought while staring in exasperation at him.
"If only the prince would show –" Otto tried to regain his hold in the conversation, but was interrupted.
From the other end of the table, a new voice spoke. In the support of Daemon.
"We placed the prince as commander to promote law and order. To keep both, the criminal element should fear the city watch." Corlys said to them all.
Daemon gave him a short nod of gratitude. "I thank you for the support, Lord Corlys."
While the sea's snake words were true, he also used the matter to raise awareness of one yet undiscussed by the council. One that had been plaguing his mind for a time.
"On the topic of order, milords, I have news to share." Corlys stood from his chair, a large scroll in hand. He places it over the table, unrolling it, revealing it as a map.
The paper depicts the Stepstones, a small archipelago at the southwest corner of Westeros. The Stepstones are a key shipping lane. A pathway connecting their land and Essos on the southern part of the Narrow Sea.
"The growing alliance among the Free Cities has taken to styling itself "the Triarchy." They have massed on Bloodstone and are presently ridding the Stepstones of its pirate infestation." Corlys explained, hands circling over the area on the map. The other members leaned forward to take a closer look.
The history between the seven kingdoms and the Free cities was a complicated one. Two enormous powers, each holding one side of the world for themselves. And not exactly on friendly terms with each other.
Not how Viserys would like to proceed with the meeting, but it was a better alternative than allowing Daemon and Otto to continue with their cycle of provoking and taunting.
"That sounds suspiciously like good news, Lord Corlys." He gave his thoughts on the situation presented. He would be lying if it was the first time he had heard of this. The halls of the keep whispered day and night, and the Step Stones were the new topic. Most of it he paid no mind, believing it to be an exaggeration. Baseless talks of war and doom.
Now he finally had a more concrete idea of what it was.
"On that regard, yes." Corlys concurred. Years in the sea, he knew well how the plague of pirates being ripped by the root was a cause for celebration. If only it was as simple. "What worries me, is the presence of a man called Craghas Drahar. He has styled himself prince-admiral of this Triarchy. They call him "The Crabfeeder" due to his... inventive methods of punishing his enemies."
A sick bastard, that was what Corlys called him.
The members gave a set of different reactions to that last bit of information. This time, the prince spoke.
"Are we meant to weep for dead pirates now ?" He asked, a subtle expression of confusion on his face.
"I have tears for none." Corlys replied firmly.
"Then what would be the matter of this deed?" The master of coins wondered.
"Indeed." Viserys used his statement as a step for him own. "Again, from what is presented, the Triarchy and this Crabfeeder have done us an indirect favor."
"So it would seem at first, Your Grace. However, I fear that we could trade a disorganized enemy for one who is quite the opposite of such."
Now they saw what he truly meant. In the pause, Corlys, still looming over the table, made his main point about the Steptones.
"I'd urge you not to allow this Triarchy much latitude in the Stepstones, Your Grace. If those shipping lanes were to fall, it could beggar our ports." He stated, tapping the map firmly.
That was met with resistance from one in particular.
"The free cities haven't much cared for our lands in years, Lord Corlys." Otto replied. "Why should we risk open confrontation based on an uncertain possibility ?"
"Every possibility has a chance of turning into reality." Corlys countered.
"Then it better not be the case of this one be made true by our own hand." Otto said with finality. "Still, the crown will take your report under advisement, Lord Corlys."
The Sea Snake doesn't agree, but he sublimates his dissent and returns to his seat at the end of the table. Not without a return for an earlier action.
"Should it come to it, the Triarchy will learn how the crown deals with those who don't know their place, Lord Corlys." Prince Daemon stated, now lounging in his chair, drawing all attention to himself. "Be it by sea or fire."
Ignoring the reactions from most of the council at the prince's words, Corlys sends him a nod of agreement. At least one in this room is willing to act.
Viserys, hiding his deep sign, looks once more over his shoulder to the outside. Swearing to have heard the first thunder from the sky, rumbling strong. And he could only really care about one thought.
Where was Rhaenyra ?
He was late to stop her from going to the Dragon Pit to fly with Syrax hours ago, and now gods would know her current location. She should have been at his side, or at least, by her mother's, even Alicent's. Away from the dammed storm.
All he could do now was pray that she would return to them safe.
Viserys was then remained that the meeting was still in session.
"Shall we turn our minds to the Heir's Tournament, Your Grace?" Otto suggested.
There was a thing Viserys would be glad to focus on. Mere few months were left until the birth of his second child. And he would make the birth a grand occasion, for all the kingdoms to enjoy it. A worthy welcome to the next heir of the iron throne.
"Most certainly." He happily nodded, turning towards the maester. "Will the maesters' name day prediction hold, Mellos?"
The man replied to the point. "Will the maesters' name day prediction hold, Mellos?You must understand that such things are mere estimations, my king... but we have all pored over the moon charts and we feel that our forecast is as accurate as one could –"
KRA-KOOOM!
The council members, the guards in the room, the servants on the Red Keep, and all of King's landing closed their eyes tightly, or covered their ears. Some jumped or kneeled in fright, screaming by it.
The storm had at last broken.
Those who dared to look up witnessed a true description of the god's fury.
Along with a heavy deluge, lighting danced and fell upon the city, blazing homes, streets, the countless structures and citizens in their wake. Large forking bolts, visible for miles away, that would make a Stormlander shake to their core. With thunders booming like the strike of hammers against bells, trembling meager shacks of Flea Bottom to their splintered and rotting foundations. Even the Red Keep's walks suffered under nature's terrible forces.
Panic followed.
Fires started at every corner. Pieces of the buildings struck in the opening barrage crashed into the streets. The people ran to find shelter in large crows anywhere they could, to the point of stomping on those unfortunate ones who slipped on the wet floor. There were those who left their homes as they came undone by the bolts.
Amidst the chaos, a sound rose above all others.
Above the screams.
Above the thunder.
Above the winds themselves.
The sound of dragons, roaring as one.
It was well into the afternoon when some semblance of peace arrived. A semblance only.
The rain has lost much of its strength, consisting now of a steady drizzle. Many would call it a blessing. Great many areas of the city were flooded in a matter of moments. This would at least help lessen the chances of more damage, and make any rescues an easier task.
At least some of their problems had somewhat of an easier solution. Others were just beginning.
"We have managed to stop the fires through the city." Otto stood next to Viserys in the, both in flanked by the king's guard in a open quarry-like field, voice loud against the hellish noise ahead and in front of them. They were drenched head to toe, constantly wiping water from their eyes, hair and beards. "But it will be impossible to move the rubble from the streets because of the water, and many houses are in risk of coming down at any given moment, and the total damage in the Keep is still being determined, your grace!"
Seven hells
The king felt more and more overwhelmed, physically and mentally.
His life was forever changed thay day at Harrenhal. When the great council had declared him as the one who would inherit the throne. A task by itself with great expectations and burden. Made even more heavy by the half century of peace and prosperity that his grand-father had achieved.
For over a decade he has tried to his best to keep the realm in its current state. To leave it ready for new generations to prosper and built upon. Wars, hunger, and poverty, those he had learned to deal with for the most part.
Not even the many advices of Jaehaerys could prepare Viserys for such calamities.
After getting his bearings from the opening turmoil, along with the council members, he was left speechless, witnessing it up from the Keep's tower. A state that even Daemon, fearless as he always presented himself, shared when coming to his side to see it first-hand.
But upon noticing a series of holes along the outside of the tower, Viserys felt his heart freeze. In a moment of pure dread, he pushed whoever stood in his way to reach Aemma as fast as his legs could take him. He thanked whatever power that would listen when finding her, and their unborn child, safe and sound, shielded and protected by the maidens and Maesters that kept her accompanied. The queen and king had embraced tightly, drawing comfort from each other.
It lasted until both noticed one of their family missing.
Rhaenyra.
It took many pleads for Aemma to calm herself at the idea of her daughter lost in the pandemonium. Lest she risked her's and the babe's life over the stress. Many of Visery's own pleads were indirectly to himself for realizing, with no small dose of anger that, with the way the world was outside, none of them could go in search of the princess.
When it was time to leave, he promised to her, in his father's name, that when the storm passed, he would find Rhaenyra and bring her home safely no matter what.
At that moment, he had to be not a father, but a king, and focus and what he could do to the safety of the city. For hours, he did, and was still doing it.
"Are all the people sheltered ?" He asked. "The wounded."
"The last ones were just being escorted last I heard." Otto revealed. They had used every space available they had. "And the healing houses are in full capacity with Maester Mellos." After being given all the crude details of the night's brutality, the sight of men, women and children in such states of burns and other types of wounds, was the last thoughts the hand needed in his mind.
"What else ?" Viserys pressed for a full report.
"Lord Corlys has taken control over the ports. A few ships were damaged during the storm as well. And the sea water has stopped getting into the city."
Viserys gave a short nod in understanding. Then Otto laid the bad news.
"I have been told it will take days, up to two weeks, until all the water is drained completely. Moreover, the demolition and rebuilding necessary for it all is currently estimated to take a month or more. Not to mention how much it will cost the crown."
Viserys winced slightly at the time, but there were coins to spare in their coffers. It will not be a problem.
"RAAAAAAAAAAAAHGG!"
Both men jolted and most of the king's guard reached for their swords, turning towards the entrance of the dragon's pit. On top of Rhaeny's hill, the location gave a view of all that surrounded King's landing. An enormous construction with large caves running under it, and plenty of space in the surface. No better place to make a home for them.
"Halt!" The lord commander, Ryam Redwyne snapped his order. "Those swords will be of no use here!"
Speaking of problems.
From inside the pit, dragons roared, trashed, and raged without pause. The caretakers and the king's family could be heard, screaming in their mother language, struggling to control the beasts. Many were rightfully dreading the likelihood of escalation.
One disaster was already enough for the day.
"Otto, return to the keep, I want you to supervise and do whatever you must to keep aiding our people. I shall remain here for now." Viserys stated quickly.
Hightower went to protest. "But, your grace, I should -."
"It is an order of your king. Go now." Viserys gave his final word, gesturing to a carriage in the distance. With its doors open, Alicent peaked from inside, hiding every time the dragons showed more aggression. The poor girl went from merely awaiting the return of her friend, to living a nightmare."Your daughter could need you as well."
Otto's jaw clenched, but he conceded to the command in the end. "Your grace." He bowed in respect, taking his leave towards the carriage afterward.
With his hand away, Viserys to his guard, searching for one member in particular. Calling upon finding him.
"Ser Harrold!" The knight stood at attention, head turning to his king. "Come forth."
He did so with no hesitation, armor clinking, and clanking, feet digging into the wet ground beneath him.
Harrold took his iron helmet, head bowing. "Your grace."
For the last few years, the man has been Rhaenyra's sworn shield, anywhere she was, he would not be too far away. Who better to help in on the matter of her whereabouts?
"I would ask something of you." Viserys stated, and Harrold stood straighter. Ready to obey.
"What would it be, your grace ?" He questioned
"I want you to take of man under your command. As many provisions as you may need. And go after my daughter."
Harrold's visibly gulped, a gaze of shame flashing in his eyes.
"…I ask forgiveness, your grace, for allowing her to leave." He said, pushing himself to look Viserys in the eye.
"You must know well by now how my girl is." Viserys replied simply. "But if it's forgiveness you want. Ride out and find her. Even with Syrax, she could not have gone much far in this storm."
"I will see it done." The knight replied with a sharp nod, helmet on once more, then marched to his brothers at arms, exchanging words with Ser Ryam, soon leaving with three more guards in his trail.
Viserys kept his gaze on them until he focused at the pit's gates. Progress, was at last, taking root.
Walking backwards, with her hands up and moving soothingly, Rhaenys spoke in High Valeryan to the first dragon he had seen in his life, close and from afar. Meleys.
Memories of his mother taking him and Daemon to fly in their youth before her death were some he would forever cherish. The rows of spikes over her chin and neck. Scales, even under a sky devoid of a sun, bright in red. Along with a crown of bright copper horns gave her a true demonic visage. Fierce Yellow eyes as one would expect from her race. And she was the third biggest they had in King's Landing currently. The dragon truly lived up to its title, the red queen.
Also, to their luck, Meleys wasn't as temperamental as their resident blood wyrm.
She continued to growl, deep bass notes, and groan. but Rhaeny's voice was working in easing the savagery.
After bonding with one the greatest and most dangerous dragons to have ever lived, Viserys felt confident enough to approach his cousin. Ignoring the call of ser Ryam, he came to flank her, diving his sight between Meleys and the Pit's indoors.
"Lykirī, Lykirī!"
The latter showed an opposite view.
Daemon was in a defensive lower stance, voice echoing through the walls, as Caraxes turned deaf to his orders, and did not bother to look at him as well. Its long snake-like neck pulled back, ready to snap and devour any that dared to get in the way. And Viserys could see the faint light of flames forming in the back of its mouth. Threatening to be unleashed.
Left to the dragon and its rider, the Pit's dragon keepers fared no better with the young ones. Lacking size and more firepower they may be, it did not make them any less of a danger. In the chaos, one had managed to escape it's containment below them before the doors could be sealed completely. Five keepers, with ropes and long staffs spread themselves to subdue the youngling. Three pulling, two making it back away. All the while it released a small burst of fire in any direction it could.
If the structure shaking and constant roars were any indication, Visery's didn't want to imagine the hell that Vermithor and others could be creating at DragonStone. It would also be one rare moment where he felt glad Balerion perished by now. The thought came with a reflection.
"It seems not even dragons can hope to stand against nature." He spoke aloud, just as a new flash of lighting shot overhead.
Rhaenys heard his words, head turning slightly to the side, yet, she did not dare to lose focus on Meleys.
"What do you mean ?" She asked.
"Just as we cower from storms, so do they." Viserys replied.
Rhaenys rubbed her hands over Meley's jaw, feeling the rise and fall of the dragon's chest, and the heat of her breath. It was a Targaryen's duty, for their safety and the safety of others, to study and learn all they could about their mounts. The particular characteristics and the universal signs each shared. Fools would be the ones who did not. For it, the princess had a conclusion of her own.
"While there could truth in that, cousin, I think it's something else." She put it to him.
Viserys frowned. With the present circumstances, there were no other clear causes to blame for the dragons' aggressive demeanor.
"And it would be…?" He wanted to know.
Rhaenys pointed at Meleys. "Where you see alarm….I see a challenge."
"Challenge ?" Viserys didn't understand.
"Pay close attention." She said vaguely.
The king accepted the counsel, really focusing on each of the dragons. His eyes widened in revelation soon after.
Their stances, ready for battle.
Teeth bared, fire dancing behind them.
Lastly, as he himself turned around, the wind blowing his silver hair, following.
Their focused eyes.
All aimed, not at the sky, but to the horizon.
Towards the sea.
It came in an instant. The clarity of a dreamless sleep.
Like the sun would overthrow the moon, Rhaenyra rose to consciousness out of pitch blackness. The waking world was not so different. Plagued by dark greys above, with the thinnest shade of blue. Drops of rain were a soft caress as she blinked them away, vision blurry. A fresh and salty scent in the air. She laid, weirdly comfortably, as if in her mother's embrace. She felt the texture beneath her hands, resistant but still lax.
Mud ? No….Sand.
She understood, when feeling cold liquid passing under her suddenly, drawing back not long after.
A beach.
When did she get there ?
Her body was heavy, exhausted to the bone, chest in particular, as if she had been stomped by a horse. Moving a finger was mostly what she could do at that moment. Her throat sore and with a mild burning in it. She was alone, but it felt like someone was blocking her ears, muffling the world around her. It could be why she did not hear the waves at first.
She must have been there for a long time. Her clothes, hair, and everything else fully wet. From what she recalled, the day was much brighter before. Night sure drew near.
Again, Rhaenyra wondered to herself, when did she get in there ? And how ?
She was then startled, feeling even the sand, something heavy pressing down next to her, approaching with a steady pace. Against the ache, she willed her head to turn, even if a little, to its direction.
The lack of light and her unfocused vision made almost impossible to see it. A large shadow, that occupied all her field of vision. It was thanks to a timely lightning, that the figure became clear. Rhaenyra could never forget that face. The two greens staring back at her.
"Syrax…"
Her dragon trilled softly, rubbing her snout against the side of Rhaenyra's face. The princess made a new effort. Hard as it was, she managed to raise an arm, placing it on top of Syrax's head. The same closed its eye at the contact, trills rising in contentment.
"I'm glad to see you too." Rhaenyra said with whatever strength her voice had, arm dropping as she could not hold it up much longer. Breathing deeply, she returned to her previous position. However, this time, her senses were making their way back to her. Gone was the blur in the sight. Sound became clearer. Yet, it was still a challenge to move.
Damn it. She seethed inwardly.
Syrax stomped on the sand again, drawing Rhaenyra's attention just in time for her to see. One moment Syrax had dug her head in the sand, in the next Rhaenyra was pushed to her feet with a yelp. Thoughts of falling face first were cut short. Syrax skillfully changed angles, positioning her head as a support for her rider. Who held on for dear life. She focused all she could in not letting go, as her legs threatened to fail.
Rhaenyra placed her forehead against the golden scales, breathing a silent laugh of relief.
"Thank you." She warmly said, looking at Syrax in the eye, her own reflection gazing back with the pupil. The dragon gave a soft, then trilling again.
A new bolt flashed just as the princess gave the dragon a once. One detail made the sense of levity give way to concern. Rhaenyra leaned back enough to see it better. It was no trick of the mind. In the junction between her body and right wing, Syrax had a burning gash. It was not large, but by no means was it small.
Seeing the loyal friend hurt made the princess forget the exhaustion, walking to see it closer.
"What happened you ?" She asked worriedly. Very few things in this world had the capability of harming a dragon. This wound was not one from a scorpion or from another dragon.
This time, when the sky brightened, it was met with a low growl from Syrax. It did not take long for Rhaenyra to put the pieces together.
But how? When they were flying, the storm had not…started….
She remembered.
A mounting out of the sea. Feral blues staring at her. A roar that struck her like the doom reborn. A light blinding her. Syrax's bellow of pain. Falling. Crashing hard against water. Feeling something heavy pulling her by the shoulder.
The creature.
Rhaenyra's pulse quickened, her fast heartbeats brought back all the strength of her body. A sharp pain bloomed at her ears. Eyes went towards the ocean, the bolts just a single moment of visibility as the sky grew darker.
Something of that scale should not be real. It just shouldn't. Merely exist in imagination put to book pages and the terrible nightmares of men. Yet, she came face to face with it. Witnessed first-hand a demonstration of its power. Could still feel its gaze on her very being. With nothing to attempt to convince herself that, it was an illusion.
And now, she had no idea of where it could be. Which is the worst of all.
In the growing fear, she fought for breath, feeling cold take over, shaking, and praying for the chance that it would have not followed, hidden by the night's shadows. Waiting to finish what it may have been denied before.
She had to return to King's Landing, she had to tell them all about it…
The thoughts fled off her mind. A new realization taking place.
How would she explain this to father ? Or to anyone in that matter ? For them to even consider entertaining believing her ?
None of the age of heroes' tales. Not even the fact of dragons flying freely across the realm would give such a creature's existence any support or credibility. The maester would undoubtedly think her mad. Otto Hightower and the other members would follow in the notion. The people would think she was starting to have delusions of legend and myth. Mother perhaps could attempt to stand by her side, but it would not be long before she would have had enough. Uncle Daemon the same as her.
It was a lost battle before it even began.
Feeling the distress, Syrax comforted her. Head going around, bringing a wing forth. She cradled Rhaenyra. Planting herself as a shield. Rubbing her head more strongly against her. Rhaenyra could only hug her dragon closer as well. Using the embrace as a centering point.
What do I do ?
The notion of time was lost as the princess and dragon stayed in place. Both taking in a moment of peace. One dreading the incoming days, of going home to family.
A call of her name from behind. The sight of a group of men holding torches approaching on horseback. One a familiar face leading them.
And the princess knew to be ready to face such fears soon.
They felt it.
From cavernous pits.
From the doomed land.
From under the world.
From its cursed prison. It's eternal slumber.
Something….new….something…familiar.
Distant and strong. Reaching all corners of the known world.
Rage and defiance grew. Some with their blood boiling at bitter old wounds of ancient battles once fought and lost. Others displayed their own might against the new power that dared challenge them. Especially one, which had not felt such since the end of its old land. Eagerness blooms in his chest.
They would wait for now. Prepare. Their rest to end. And when it was the right time, rise with fire, tooth and claw to face it.
Others, there was curiosity. Wondering what it could be. Where did it come from. What could it want there. One had all of the answers, having witnessed the being in its dreams, across the cosmos, time, and space.
It would continue to observe with great amusement what was to come.
This pathetic planet will quake to its very foundations.
That promised to be quite a show.
* Shows up
Causes a mini cataclysm
Gives a princess a dose of trauma and almost full hearing loss
Pisses off a lot of folks just by existing
Refuses to elaborate
Leaves"
And there we have it people. Actually took back and forth and this one, writing aftermaths can be tricky, especially when many different things happen at the same time. Was satisfied with it tho, you guys let me know what you thought. Also helps that, on these days here in my city, it is raining like a mother-fucker…. (-_-)
Now something about G-man.
For this chapter, I went on a small forgotten ability he has. In the old movies, Godzilla could draw power from nature, more specifically lighting. So the storm he unleashed was a nod to that, just that he's discharging it, not absorbing it into himself.
As for what Rhaenyra felt after waking up, it came from an old video that imagined what G's roar would sound like in real life, and the effects it would have. And basically….No human could survive it, by the air change and the pure pressure and strength behind the sound. Crushing our bodies, exploding our heads, etc…So, in this case, I opted to use a low version of some of them, including the pain it causes and the bleeding from the ears.
Imagine how poor Syrax felt in those moments.
Speaking of her.
The hints are there in the writing. And the identity of those referenced is up to you guys to find out.
Anyway, going back to another fic now.
See ya in there, or in here when it comes back
Peace.