Chapter 16: The Cycle of Flames – Rebirth and the Braavosi Conquest
King's Landing, 140 AC – 150 AC (Transition and Conquest Montage)
King Rhaegar I Targaryen, the Silver King whose gentle rule had paved roads of stone and sent fleets to distant horizons, passed peacefully in his sleep at eighty-five. It was a quiet autumn night in 140 AC, the eternal flame of the High Tower flickering as if in farewell. He lay in the royal bedchamber, harp at his bedside, surrounded by his children and grandchildren—Jaehaerys whispering Valyrian prayers, Aemon standing vigil with sword drawn, Rhaenys (now a matronly diplomat) holding his hand. No final words; just a soft exhale, and the realm's most beloved king slipped into the flames of history.
The Seven Kingdoms mourned with harp music in every square—printed broadsheets recounting his edicts, his mercy, his explorations. Lords from North to Dorne sent ravens of condolence; smallfolk lit candles scented with royal soap, chanting "The harp plays eternal." The funeral pyre in the Dragonpit burned silver and gold—Stormwing, his pale dragon, circling overhead one last time before flying free to the Dragonmont, riderless and grieving.
The crown passed to Aegon Targaryen—eldest son of Maegor II and Alyssa, now seventy, a grizzled warrior-king who had claimed the massive black dragon Stormrend in his youth. Aegon II ascended the Iron Throne amid thunderous cheers, his reign brief but steady. He was old, body scarred from Maegor's campaigns, but his rule echoed his father's iron: Bloody Dragon garrisons reinforced, Dragon Bank audits tightened, royal roads extended into the Dornish Marches. "The flame does not dim," he declared at coronation, axe across his knees like Maegor before him.
Yet age claimed him swiftly. In 141 AC, after one year on the Throne, Aegon II died peacefully in his sleep—much like Rhaegar—surrounded by his heirs. His pyre joined the others, Stormrend's black flames consuming the body as the dragon roared in lament. The realm whispered of a "gentle twilight" for the old kings, but the line endured.
The crown fell to Aenys II Targaryen—son of Aegon II, grandson of Maegor II, a young man of twenty-five with silver hair cropped short, violet eyes sharp as daggers, and a body trained in Academy sword halls. But Aenys II was no ordinary heir. In the moment of his grandfather's passing, the ancient system—dormant since the original Aenys's rebirth—stirred once more. [Rebirth Cycle: Engage. Host: Aenys II Targaryen. Bloodline Purity: 98%. Legacy Rewards: Unlocked.] Elias, the man from another world who had first inhabited Garrick Stone then Aenys I, awoke again in this new body—memories flooding like dragonfire: conquests, innovations, the taste of victory across lifetimes.
Aenys II (reborn Aenys I) sat the Throne with quiet intensity. He retained the young man's vigor—weapon-master skills refreshed, monstrous endowment a secret weapon in private chambers—but layered with centuries of cunning. His first edict honored predecessors: statues of Rhaegar and Aegon erected along royal roads, printed histories glorifying their reigns. The realm sighed in relief—a young king, perhaps as gentle as Rhaegar, without Maegor's or Aegon's axe-edge.
Braavos saw opportunity.
The Free City, long chafing under Targaryen trade dominance—Dragon Bank branches siphoning gold, royal fleets patrolling the Narrow Sea—viewed the boy-king as weak. "He is green," the Sealord whispered in council, "afraid of war's roar." Essosi spies reported Aenys II's youth: no scars from battle, no public executions, gentle pardons for minor lords testing boundaries. Braavos, with its Iron Bank and secret faces, plotted to strike at the heart of Targaryen authority: the dragons.
In 142 AC, Braavosi agents—faceless men in merchant guise—infiltrated the Dragonpit during a moonless night. They stole three dragon eggs: one black as night (from Stormrend's clutch), one silver-veined (Emberwing's), one crimson-speckled (a younger beast's). The theft was discovered at dawn—guards executed for negligence, the pit sealed. Ravens flew; Bloody Dragons scoured ports. But the eggs were already across the sea, hidden in Braavos's canals, a challenge hurled: "If Westeros's boy-king fears war, let him prove his blood's monopoly."
The theft ignited outrage. Lords who had whispered of weakness now roared for blood: "They steal our gods!" Smallfolk chanted in streets, printed broadsheets depicting Braavosi as egg-thieves mocked by dragons. Aenys II—reborn with ancient memories—smiled inwardly. The system pinged: [Authority Challenge Detected. Warlord Tier: Reactivated. Tactical Boost: +60%.]
He summoned the Small Council: Visenya the Younger (now ancient at eighty, but fierce), Aegon's siblings (Baelon, Viserys, Daera), Jaehaerys and Aemon (diplomats and tacticians), and Academy zealots. "Braavos thinks us afraid," he said softly. "We will teach them the dragon's roar."
Preparation was swift, ruthless. Bloody Dragons mobilized 100,000; royal roads sped wagons of supplies. The fleet—300 dragon-prowed ships, Velaryon-commanded (Corlys III, eager to redeem house honor)—sailed from Blackwater Bay. Dragons mustered: twenty beasts, riders from the line—Jaehaerys on Harpwing, Aemon on Shadowclaw, younger heirs claiming mounts.
The conquest began in 143 AC.
First Strike: The Blockade of Braavos
Aenys II led from Stormwing—pale dragon now massive, flames like silver lightning. The fleet sealed the lagoon; dragons circled high, blocking escape. Braavosi galleys sortied—arrows and scorpions loosing wild. Stormrend dove, black fire incinerating masts; Emberwing strafed decks. Aenys II signaled precision: "Burn ships, spare lives." Surrender flags rose; captured vessels turned royal prizes.
The Sealord sued for parley on a neutral isle. "Return the eggs," Aenys demanded. The Sealord sneered: "Your youth shows—war will bleed you." Aenys smiled: "My blood is fire."
The Assault on the Arsenal
Braavosi defenses—canal mazes, hidden blades, the Titan's bronze roar—held initially. Aenys's reborn tactics shone: Bloody Dragons infiltrated via royal road-learned stealth, disguised as merchants. At night, they sabotaged the Arsenal—wildfire jars (Aenys's innovation) igniting shipyards. Dragons followed: silver flames from Stormwing melting catapults, crimson from younger beasts burning warehouses.
Faceless Men struck back—assassins slipping into camps, poisoning wells. Aenys, system-enhanced [Perception Boost: Active], anticipated: decoy tents trapped killers, executed publicly. "Your faces change; our fire does not," he declared.
The Fall of the Iron Bank
By mid-143 AC, Braavos starved under blockade. The Iron Bank—vaults deep in stone—held the eggs as leverage. Aenys feigned retreat, drawing defenders out. Then Aemon's dragon wing struck—shadow flames breaching walls. Bloody Dragons stormed vaults: eggs recovered intact, gold seized as reparations. The Sealord knelt in his palace, key around neck: "Braavos yields."
The conquest ended in 144 AC. Braavos became a Targaryen protectorate—Sealord a royal appointee, Iron Bank merged with Dragon Bank, fleets sworn to Westeros. The eggs hatched under Targaryen riders; Braavosi canals now flew dragon banners. Lords who doubted Aenys II's youth learned: gentleness masked reborn fury.
The realm celebrated—roads carried feasts north, fleets brought Braavosi treasures. Aenys II sat the Throne, system humming: [Conquest Complete. Empire Expanded. Rebirth Legacy: Eternal.]
The dragonlords—world's only—reigned unchallenged once more.