Seeing the situation collapse completely, defeat inevitable, Little Aegon thought only of fleeing once more.
Without hesitation, he abandoned his retainers again, caring nothing for his wife and daughter, and fled in panic like a beaten cur.
In his desperation, Little Aegon awakened into his grotesque Iron Spike Hedgehog form, throwing himself with all his strength toward the Gods Eye.
He knew full well that across this vast land, with his uncle Maegor astride his Dragon, escape was impossible. His only chance lay in repeating his old trick—diving into the lake and vanishing beneath its waters.
Maegor quickly saw through his nephew's intent and urged the Cannibal forward, giving chase.
Just then, Rhaena appeared on Dreamfyre, cutting across their path and barring Maegor's way.
Maegor glared at his former wife, eyes blazing with fury, and shouted,
"Why did you leave me! Is this cowardly wretch truly worth your life?"
Before his voice had faded, the Cannibal echoed its master's rage with a thunderous, earth-shaking roar, the sound tearing the air as everything nearby quaked in fear.
Dreamfyre's sapphire eyes shone with tension and unease. She was barely more than twenty years old, a young dragon little more than ten meters in length.
As Dreamshade's offspring, her slender frame was better suited for swift combat, yet before the Cannibal—several times her size—she felt a crushing weight of pressure.
"Because he is my brother, the one who has been with me since childhood, my beloved! It was your mother who forced us apart, and you who tore our family to pieces, ruining my life..."
Rhaena's voice trembled with grief and fury as she hurled accusations at her ex-husband.
But Maegor's thoughts were consumed with urgency. Little Aegon was already fleeing farther and farther.
If he didn't give chase now, the "stinking rat" might escape yet again—and Maegor had no desire to be plagued by him any longer.
With a command, he sent the Cannibal charging forward like a black mountain.
The dragon's vast bulk dwarfed Dreamfyre's. With a single collision, its terrifying force sent her hurtling through the air.
Dreamfyre let out a pitiful cry, plummeting like a falling star.
Aerea, seeing her mother struck, cried out in alarm. Heart pounding, she urged Balerion toward the place where Dreamfyre was falling.
This time, the Black Dread did not resist, landing heavily beside her.
Aerea leapt from the saddle and rushed to Dreamfyre's side.
She saw that Dreamfyre had deliberately turned her soft belly toward the ground. Rhaena, though violently shaken in the saddle, had only been knocked unconscious.
Dreamfyre lay sprawled, her chest torn with internal wounds. Several ribs jutted grotesquely through her hide, and blood-flecked foam spilled from her maw.
Even so, she endured the agony, turning her head to gently lick her unconscious rider.
Aerea, seeing her mother's life was not in danger, felt a measure of relief. But the sight of Dreamfyre's wounds made her stamp her feet in helpless anguish, uncertain what to do.
Dreamfyre had been with the sisters since their earliest years.
Whenever Rhaena was absent, it was this young dragon who played with Aerea and Rhaella, forging a deep and inseparable bond.
"Dreamfyre, Dreamfyre, are you all right? Please, you must be all right!"
Aerea wept as she caressed the dragon's glassy brow.
"Rrhh..."
Dreamfyre moaned weakly, unable to heal herself, the pain unbearable.
Just then, Aerea's younger sister Rhaella ran up.
So unlike her elder sister, Rhaella had always been strong-willed, bold, curious, and eager for adventure and learning.
She had befriended several New Medicine School Maesters serving in Little Aegon's army, and now quickly summoned them over.
Together, the sisters whispered comfort to the dragon while the Maesters immediately set about treating her broken bones.
Fortunately, dragons possessed incredible vitality. A wound that would have killed a man outright was not so easily fatal to them.
Under the Maesters' urgent care, Dreamfyre's condition stabilized, the worst danger passing.
But just as relief began to settle over them, a massive black head studded with iron spikes plummeted from the sky like a meteor, crashing into the ground.
It was the hideous visage of Little Aegon in his awakened form. The fall of that monstrous head proclaimed the death of Aegon the Uncrowned.
"Aegon the Uncrowned is dead!"
Maegor bellowed from the sky, his voice resounding like a great bell.
The news struck like a hammer. The rebels' morale shattered in an instant.
Seeing their leader fallen, they broke into chaos, casting aside shields and weapons, fleeing in every direction. But the King's Men had long since surrounded them. Hemmed in on all sides, there was no escape.
The royal host claimed a resounding victory.
Maegor dismounted the Cannibal with calm composure, slowly drawing the Targaryen family sword. Its blade gleamed coldly, reflecting his stern face.
Step by step, he advanced toward the unconscious Rhaena.
"What are you doing?"
Rhaella stepped forward without fear, standing tall before Maegor and meeting his gaze head-on.
Maegor narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze sweeping over the two young girls. He knew very well they were not his children.
Ever since the Dragon Prince Aegon had been born, he had lost all interest in women. Now, the only thing that stirred his fascination was their entrails.
"All who betray the King deserve no place in this world," Maegor said coldly to Rhaella. "However, since you and your sister were coerced by the traitor Rhaena, I may spare your lives. Aerea also turned back to the King's cause during the battle, which counts as merit.
You may continue to live as Princesses of House Targaryen. But the traitor Rhaena must face proper punishment!"
Maegor had no intention of harming the twin sisters. Aerea had indeed been of great help, and as Balerion's rider she deserved respect and consideration.
He had already made plans for them in his mind, intending one day to marry them to his son Aegon, making them Queens of the Targaryen dynasty.
But Rhaena had to die.
In Maegor's heart, every traitor could meet only one end—death. And only a brutal death could count as a fitting one.
"Step aside!" Maegor barked again, his face growing colder still.
Rhaella lifted her head proudly, her eyes locking onto his without wavering.
In that instant, a strange white glow flared in her eyes. A hazy light like mist rose around her body, slowly wrapping her within it.
The light thickened and condensed until it took the form of a dreamlike, illusory full moon.
Maegor stared in shock. Golden sparks danced within his pupils like flames, while the veins beneath his skin glimmered faintly gold.
His voice turned bitterly cold as he spat through clenched teeth, "Rhaenys's Full Moon Aura! You transplanted her flesh and blood—you've become her dragon-kin!!"
Rhaella gave no reply. She simply curled in on herself slightly as the vast white spiritual power, alive and sentient, enveloped her small body. Slowly it reshaped into a radiant full moon of pure white, hovering just above the ground.
Seeing her refusal to yield, the Blackfyre sword in Maegor's hand began to shimmer with molten gold.
The molten power flowed like liquid light, rushing to the sword's tip and condensing into a massive hammerhead of gleaming gold, half a meter wide.
Just as he was about to deliver the fatal blow—
Behind Rhaella, a surge of demonic aura Maegor knew all too well erupted like a crashing tide.
A searing crimson energy gathered, forming a massive spore-like bud. From within it, Aerea slowly emerged, standing face-to-face with her sister.
Behind her, a pair of twisted crimson wings, shaped from flesh and blood, began to grow. They twitched faintly in the wind.
Maegor's mouth fell open. With trembling fingers, he pointed at Aerea, murmuring in disbelief, "You transplanted Mother's flesh..."
"Father... Your Grace, please spare my mother."
Aerea looked straight at him. The word "father" had risen instinctively to her lips, but the truth of her parentage struck her in that moment. She quickly changed her address to "Your Grace."
Lowering her gaze briefly, she glanced at the grotesque, spike-covered skull of Little Aegon lying on the ground.
"Mother was only deceived by this man," she pleaded. "She..."
At her words, the molten-gold light coating Maegor's sword slowly faded, and the murderous fury in his eyes vanished without a trace.
He stared blankly at Aerea. After a long moment, he spoke slowly.
"If you agree to one condition, I will spare your mother's life."
Aerea blinked in surprise. That Maegor would relent so easily seemed impossible. With suspicion and caution, she asked, "What condition?"
Maegor's gaze fixed hungrily on the crimson wings unfurling behind her, his eyes filled with frenzied obsession.
"Be my Queen, Aerea!" he cried. "If you become my Queen, I will spare Rhaena's life."
Aerea's eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding in panic.
Instinctively, she looked back at her unconscious mother, then thought of her brother Aegon. Countless emotions tangled inside her.
At last, she clenched her teeth and shouted, "No... I cannot!!"
Before the echo of her refusal had faded, a terrifying surge of aura burst from her. Far beyond that of ordinary dragonborn, her crimson feathers swirled violently around her, spinning into a whirlwind.
The feathers melded together, transforming into massive petals that spread upward from her feet. In moments, they began to wrap around her, forming an even larger crimson spore.
—Aerea was about to awaken.
But in that critical moment, the Cannibal's massive tail lashed out like a black whip, striking her with brutal force.
With a thunderous boom, the spore shattered instantly. Aerea was thrown into darkness, collapsing unconscious to the ground.
Balerion, sensing his rider's injury, bellowed with rage. Like a living black mountain, he charged headlong toward the Cannibal.
As the Dragonlord, Balerion stretched over two hundred meters in length. When such a primeval behemoth unleashed its fury, it seemed as though nothing in the world could withstand its wrath.
The Cannibal was hurled to the ground beneath Balerion's mountain-like body, pinned under its crushing weight.
Then came a storm of attacks, fiercer than a torrential downpour.
Balerion clamped his colossal jaws onto the Cannibal's tail. His head, vast as a great hall, possessed a terrifying bite force. In an instant, his teeth sank deep into the tailbone.
With a violent shake of his head, Balerion tried to rip the tail clean off.
Under his relentless assault, the Cannibal wailed in agony, pitiful and helpless.
With a sharp crack, Balerion tore the tail away in one savage bite.
He spat it out, the severed tail crashing to the ground with a heavy thud. Over ten meters long, the massive appendage landed like a felled pillar, sending dust billowing into the air.
Once again, all who watched saw the savage cruelty of the Black Dread, Balerion.
But he was far from finished. Opening his bloody jaws once more, he bit down on the Cannibal's wing. Gone was any trace of the monster's former arrogance. In its wide, terrified eyes, it could only watch as Balerion tore its left wing apart, shred by shred.
These were the very cruelties the Cannibal had once inflicted on weaker dragons. Now, fate turned full circle, and it suffered the same at the hands of one far greater.
By their side, Maegor had already awakened to his peak form, his body radiating immense power.
Yet even so, he dared not rush to aid his Dragon. For even a dragonborn of the highest tier, his awakened form reached scarcely four meters in height.
Before the might of a Dragonlord like Balerion, the so-called power of dragonborn—and their vaunted physical strength—were no more than the strength of ants.
Maegor could only watch in frustration and helpless fury as the Cannibal was mauled, his heart burning with anxiety yet powerless to act.
It was only when the Cannibal's wing was torn away completely that Maegor snapped from his daze. Desperate, he turned to the methods of the Dragonkeepers to call Balerion off.
He soothed him gently in High Valyrian while attendants brought forth live sheep and cattle, tempting him with fresh meat.
At last, under this twofold coaxing, Balerion released the dying Cannibal and turned to devour the feast instead.
The Cannibal, however, lay broken beyond recognition—its tail severed at the root, one wing mangled into ruin, countless bones shattered. Balerion had nearly chewed it into nothing more than a "dragon stick."
Maegor shouted for healers in panic, demanding that the Cannibal's life be preserved at all costs.
Only with the use of rare and precious witch's draughts was its life barely saved.
...
Thus ended the war against Aegon the Uncrowned, commanded personally by Maegor. The toll revealed Aegon's forces had lost five thousand men, while Maegor's side suffered only three hundred dead.
Among the slain on Aegon's side were Lord Alyn Tarbeck, Denys Snow, the bastard of Barrowton, Lord Ronnel Vance, Ser Willem Whistler, and Melony Piper with her three brothers...
But none drew more attention than Aegon Targaryen himself, the self-proclaimed "Uncrowned King."
On Maegor's side, the only significant loss was Ser Rodys Rykker of the Kingsguard, cut down by Lord Corbray with the ancestral blade, Lady Forlorn.
When the war of the "Uncrowned King" was done, a six-month tide of trials and executions followed.
Prince Aegon was dispatched to subdue the High Septon in Oldtown and did not return to King's Landing.
Jaehaerys kept his host in the Stormlands, while Maegor, with his Dragon gravely injured, did not immediately march against him.
During this time, King Maegor solemnly proclaimed to the realm his intention to wed his niece, Princess Aerea—the girl he had once raised as his own daughter.
The wedding was set for the New Year of Aegon's Conquest 49.
If the union went forward, Aerea would be his third wife.
His first, Ceryse Hightower, had borne him no children. His second was Rhaena Targaryen.
And now, he sought to wed Rhaena's daughter, Aerea Targaryen.
The news spread quickly, provoking scorn and mockery among the learned, who dubbed the coming year of A.C. 49 "The Year of the Third Bride."
Meanwhile, Aegon, leading the Demon-Hunting Knights, was on campaign in the Reach, marching toward Oldtown to suppress the High Septon at Maegor's command.
But when he heard this news, fury and disbelief surged through him like ten thousand wild horses breaking loose.
Without hesitation, he turned his host around and drove the Demon-Hunting Knights hard toward King's Landing.
The thought of Maegor committing such a vile act filled him with disgust, as if he had swallowed a fly.
Thus Prince Aegon defied Maegor's order to march on Oldtown and instead raised the banner of rebellion, leading his men against King's Landing.
From that moment, the bond between father and son was broken forever. A new storm was gathering over Westeros.
...
[Upto 20 chapters ahead for now]
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