Chapter IX

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Act III of Devotion: Liberty

Chapter IX: Sons of the Dragon Part II

'When I was a boy, I would find myself sitting on the carpet listening to my grandfather lord Tywin tell stories. Just as my brothers and sisters, I was fascinated with the stories long past, of chivalry and of honor. Of passionate wars and knighthood. The boy I had been had been too eager for such wonders, unable to find distinction between reality and fantasy. The mighty lion spoke ever so often with conviction, such strength and power. He had spoke of his first instance of war, being but a young man fighting a war to protect the realm.

Though there was strength in his swords, it reminded me that there would come a time where the world would expect me to wield a sword, to be a warrior like the rest of my people. A boy like me had never thought about it before until that moment. The realm had much to expect from a prince of my status, a boy of my name. A Targaryen no less, descended from warriors. A Lannister descended from warring men. Yet my mother, queen Leila, merely shook her head a fond smile drifted through her lips, tellng me that there was no need for him to be a warrior if I did not feel like I should be. I thought it kind of my mother to reassure me of such a thing, warming me away from fear of the world she already knew too well.

Yet, fate would intercede and decide that a scholar's hands would hold harsh steel with vengence in his heart and grief in his soul. Tears flowed naturally, the hurt fanning the flames of vengence. When my sister Visenya died, the song of peace that long defined the realm had all but shattered. And so began a war of retaliation and revenge.

The sons of the dragon sent off to war, eager to prove themselves as men worthy of reknown. Worthy of being praised. Worthy of leading all the realm following each and every charge without a second thought. I put my maester's chain away for armor and steel. It had been hard for my mother, to think that she may yet lose another child for the sake of vengence. Fear plagued her as much as grief did. Yet she knew she could not stop us now, even with her eyes still settled on the boys she had once raised, the white queen eyed all of her sons to see that they had all become men. The queen blessed our decision, with teary eyes in our eyes.

When she embraced me goodbye, she laughed sorrowfully and thought to herself how ironic it had been. That her son had chosen to live his own life away from the crown and the sword to live as a maester and yet return to all he had left behind to bear arms like a warrior ready to risk it all for the sake of their family, for the realm. I held my mother tightly, promising her that I would return home. And I promised her that I shall fight, to return home. No matter what. My brothers had all but done the same. Vowing to return no matter the cost. No matter what is thrown in their way. And we meant each and every vow spoken.

I must admit, my brothers and myself had caused a harrying of the Iron Islands. We had even cared so little after uncle Viserys had betrayed us for his own greed. Such pain and grief and loss had drove us to the madness of violence. All of us had become the animals we always had been, dragons unleashed from their chains. Fire and blood engulfed the Iron Islands, people burnt to ash and their blood sweeping through the Sunset Sea. The Narrow Sea into a pitiful wasteland of floating bodies and burnt down ships. Nothing else mattered but finding what sense of justice a dragon wants.

But such a thing has a cost, as it always does. One cannot seek vengence and not expect a price to pay. No good washes out the bad nor the bad the good. One could only wish it could. That is however not the case in our reality. We must always pay the price. A life for a life. A tragedy for another tragedy. Loss for another loss. We must face it all. We can never turn our backs from it, no matter how much we wish. That is the truth of humanity. And it will prove itself over and over again.'

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 06, 2023 ⏰

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