Aegon remembered his mother's voice.
Her singing.
It was always soft.
Almost gentle.
The memory returned to him now as if dragged from the depths of a dark ocean.
He remembered the day she submerged him into the green fluid made from the crushed meat of Eldritch souls.
The liquid was thick.
Warm.
And alive in a way that made his skin crawl. The moment his small body sank into it—
Pain exploded across his skin.
Every pore burned as if tiny needles were digging under his flesh. "Mother… it hurts." His voice trembled.
The young Aegon tried to lift himself out of the basin, but her hand immediately pressed his shoulder down.
"Bear with it, little one."
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
He looked up at her and saw that her eyes were hollow of feeling.
Her skin was sickly and pale, stretched thin enough that the green veins beneath it were visible, crawling like worms beneath fragile flesh.
Even submerged in the thick green liquid, he could hear it—
