Location:???
Daytime is here, yet darkness covers the city. The far off sound of thunder rumbles through the sky but not a single storm cloud can be seen, for it is not rain a storm that it heralds, but the arrival of sickly green flames that burns the air as they rain down, and boils the Blackwater Bay.
Aemon finds himself in this hellscape. Hellfire rains from above, slowly burning all in its vicinity regardless of material. Around him men, women, and children flee from the city, their screams echoing around him as buildings crumble and crash, sickly green flames burn all. He reaches out to a young woman carrying a babe only for their skin to melt and boil before him, their eyes popping out of their sockets.
The sight freezes him in place, never in all his years as he seen such a horrific sight, not even during the Long Night.
A thunderous roar shakes him from his stupor and he turns his eye to the sky whereupon he sees a massive, savage, black dragon fly over the city, spewing sickly green flames into the air for it to rain over them.
Aemon does not remember when he moved or how he found himself grasping Longclaw and leaping through the air when moments ago he was weaponless and frozen in shock and fear. Still, it matters not. All that matters is that he has his sword in hand and a dragon that needs slaying.
As he flies towards the dragon, a dragon's roar rips through his throat as his Conqueror's Presence slams into the black dragon and accomplishes nothing other than drawing the beast's attention to Aemon. As he nears the dragon's neck, the beast turns its head towards Aemon, opening its jaw wide; and all Aemon can do as the green flames build in its gullet is watch in horror.
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He awakes in a cold sweat, his breathing heavy, and his heart thundering so loudly in his chest that he fears that it may rip out of his ribcage.
"You continue to ignore my advice." a familiar voice tells him. It is light and soft with a melodic sound to it. It is the voice one could expect from a seducer, a succubus or a siren or perhaps even a vampire, not a man.
"There is nothing in Old Valyria but ash, ruins, and whatever chimeric horrors you people have created through your sorcerous experiments." Aemon replies with a tired sigh.
He has had this conversation near every night with this shade and every time the conversation leads to the same argument. For whatever reason this shade insists that he goes to Old Valyria without giving a reason as to why.
"The longer you wait, the more dire the situation grows." the dragonlord tells him, for that is what he is, the shade of a dragonlord of Old Valyria even if he continues to deny Aemon the knowledge of his identity.
Still, Aemon must know and once more he asks, "Who are you? I must at the very least know your identity if you wish for me to entertain your folly."
"It is no folly to return to one's homeland and recover it." answers the shade.
"Perhaps not in more normal circumstances. However, seeing that the homeland you speak of is infested with chimeric horrors and even threats capable of mortally wounding The Black Dread of all dragons I would not consider this circumstance normal by any stretch of the imagination." Aemon replies.
Though the skulls of dragons are kept in the Red Keep, the rest of their skeletons are stored in a massive cave under Dragonstone. Aemon has seen the bones of Balerion, and the dragon never recovered from his injuries incurred in Old Valyria. An entire section of his ribcage was missing, part of his spine was twisted and bent, and one of his wings was misshapen. The fact that the dragon managed to survive and bring Aerea back to Westeros was nothing short of a miracle; and the fact that he recovered enough to allow Viserys to feel the joy of dragonflight at least once is a credit to the dragon.
The Black Dread's moniker was well earned yet even he was not immune to the dangers that lurk in Old Valyria. Not to mention the former Freehold's close proximity to Asshai. It is a suicide mission in all but name.
"The Black Dread." scoffs the shade. "What a presumptuous name for a dragon that has not even entered into adulthood." he says, shocking Aemon.
"What?" questions Aemon.
"The dragon you called The Black Dread was still in the later stages of its childhood. It is no wonder it did not survive Old Valyria. A fully trained dragon would not have suffered so." the shade replies.
"Impossible. Balerion had grown so big that his wings could barely support his weight." Aemon says.
"Yes, and I am sure that he also seemed to spend less time flying and more time lying about sleeping and even when he did fly he was slow. He was in a foul mood at near all times and gave off the feeling of an elderly." says the shade with a sneer. "All of which are signs that he was entering the final stages of childhood where he would go through a growth spurt that would cement him as being at the apex of the world. His wings would have grown long and powerful, capable of carrying ten times his weight, his scales would have become impervious to anything man made, Valyrian Steel included, his eyes would have become immune to even scorpion bolts, and his intelligence would have finally developed." explains the shade before addin, "There is a reason why we of Old Valyria claim that only a dragon can kill a dragon. It is no mere empty boast."
The revelation is shocking to Aemon for more than one reason, the least of which is the implication that there was foul play involved. Someone orchestrated the dragon's death and Aemon has a sneaking suspicion as to who, or what group, at the very least planned the deed if not carried it out altogether.
"Then it was not old age that killed him." Aemon says.
"Certainly not. His injuries played a part, but I am willing to wager that the brunt of the responsibility lies in foul play." the shade tells him "Had he been allowed to reach adulthood he would have recovered completely. Scarred, but recovered all the same."
"Is this why you want me to go to Old Valyria?" asks Aemon.
"Yes, for knowledge which should be common to you and your house has long since been lost, and such knowledge could be the difference between thriving and extinction." the shade tells him.
These revelations are not what Aemon expected to hear this day. The shade casually reveals all of this information as if it were common knowledge but Aemon wagers that not even Visenya knew what he has just learned. This information is groundbreaking for the Targaryens of Westeros. Just the knowledge that Balerion never survived to adulthood is enough to drastically change the political landscape, not to mention the possibility of what those grey rats and religious zealots have been up to right under House Targaryen's noses.
"Now do you see why you must recover the lost knowledge of Valyria as soon as possible?" asks the shade.
"Nay." Aemon replies with a shake of his head. "All the more reason to bide my time. If Balerion had not even reached adulthood and barely survived Old Valyria then Caraxes' chances of survival are even lower. I will not endanger him needlessly when I can wait for him to reach adulthood before exploring Old Valyria. Besides, this sort of knowledge is not the kind that should be rediscovered while there are threats to the dragons lurking in the shadows." he adds.
Unsatisfied with Aemon's response the shade sneers at him before disappearing, and with him the eerie dreamlike space that Aemon finds himself in.
Camp Half-Blood, PJO World
March 2008
When he awakes for true it is with the foreboding feeling of multiple presences in his tent. Without hesitating he draws Longclaw and lunges at the nearest figure, only stopping when the wide eyes of his sister meets his narrowed one.
"By the gods Rhaenys, do you have a death wish?" sighs Aemon as he returns his sword to his inventory.
"Little brother, it is so good to see you." she says in High Valyrian before pulling him into a hug. "It has been near a year since we've spoken. You do not write and you do not visit. Have you grown tired of me already?" she asks
"Matters have simply not allowed me the time to do so." responds Aemon in his patriarchal tongue.
"We can tell." says Jaehaerys from his position somewhere behind Aemon "You have been busy, Dragonstone is much different now."
"Well, it needed some decorating." Aemon says as he pulls away from Rhaenys to face Jaehaerys. "For as much as I love the dragon, griffins, and gargoyles, the island does become dreary during cloudy days."
"So you uprooted Aegon's Garden and replaced it with three massive pools, a large field of crops, and a giant apple tree? All of which glow silver and gold for whatever reason?" asks Jaehaerys.
"I don't mind the changes to Aegon's Garden, however I am curious about our new subjects and the mines found under the castle." says Rhaenys.
"I will explain later. We have more important matters to discuss, such as the purpose of your visit and how did you arrive here?" Aemon says as he prepares for the day.
"Our new subjects, they are apparently quite adept at traversing between worlds." Jaehaerys explains.
"My new subjects. I am their king after all." corrects Aemon, causing Jaehaerys and Rhaenys to momentarily fall silent.
"This is a jape, yes?" asks Jaehaerys with a raised eyebrow
"Why would it be? I earned that crown through their customs and as befit their customs I am their King." Aemon says.
"How fucking ridiculous." Jaehaerys says with a chuckle. "Here we are slumming it out on the Stepstones against the Triarchy thinking that you are home furthering our cause in King's Landing when instead you went and got yourself a crown and a magic garden. Aegon is going to be livid." he laughs while clapping Aemon on the back.
"Good work little brother." congratulates Rhaenys with a smile as genuine as Aemon has ever seen. "A kingdom brings with it resources that we would not have otherwise. Although, you will have to be the one to explain that to Aegon, the Stepstones made him a miserable little fuck." she says as her smile turns into a grin.
Turning towards the version of him from another world, Aemon cannot help but ask, "And you brother, what do you think?"
"To be honest it is quite perfect. It removes much of the issues that once stopped us from enacting many of our plans. As Rhaenys says, a crown comes with resources that we would not have been able to easily obtain otherwise, warriors, spies, and scholars all without the attachment to any lord, lady, or land that any other Westerosi under our employ would have. Now, whether they are truly loyal to you and competent is another matter that you have to ascertain yourself." Jaehaerys says, "In addition, I have seen these new mines and they run deep. With them we will most never have to worry about funds for a long while."
"Not for a long while, brother. Never. We will never have to worry about funds. Not only do they run deep, but they also replenish themselves. They are magical mines." Aemon says with a grin.
"You and your fucking magic." replies Jaehaerys with a grin that matches Aemon's "Where the fuck were you when the Blackfyres were running circles around us using magic?" he asks while lightly punching Aemon on the arm.
"Watch yourself brother, it is a King that you have punched. I may have one of my Black Knives remove your hand for the attack on my person." warns Aemon, though the upturn of his lips obviously points him out to be japing.
"Please, I am you and you are I. I can punch you as I like and none shall protest, especially not your shadows." replies Jaehaerys while looking pointedly at Aemon's shadow.
"Oh, it seems that you are not as magically inept as I thought. How did you?" asks Aemon.
"You are not the only one who has had his share of experience with shadow magic." answers Jaehaerys, his tone somber as he absentmindedly rubs his chest; the position painfully close to his heart.
Before Aemon can ask him to elaborate, Rhaenys intervenes.
"Come boys, should we make Aegon and Daenerys wait longer they will think that we've started fucking." Rhaenys says while shooting Aemon a subtle glance along with a shake of head.
Silently acknowledging her warning, Aemon drops the subject as he tells them to go ahead of him while he cleans himself. It does not take long for him to do so and soon he finishes dressing himself before making his way out of the tent. Unsurprisingly the camp is coming awake with activity as the soldiers of Eredin's Wraith Raiders go about their morning routines before they begin to disassemble the camp.
With his left hand on the handle of Longclaw, Aemon makes his way to the massive tent next to his personal one where he is sure Aegon and the others wait for him.
Entering the command tent, he is not surprised to see Aegon lounging on his seat with Daenerys sitting on her husband's lap while Jaehaerys and Rhaenys stand over the table with maps spread out over it.
"Brother, you have been busy." says Aegon as a greeting.
"Well, idleness does not become me." Aemon replies as he sits across from him. "It makes me restless, and restlessness makes me impulsive." he admits.
"Yes, that is something that I've noticed." Aegon says while looking pointedly at Jaehaerys "You would not believe the trouble that this one has put me through."
"I can believe it." Aemon says with a shrug. "However, you did not come here to discuss my restless acts, nor Jaehaerys' impulsivity."
"True." Aegon replies. "In all honesty brother, we are bored. With the soldiers you have provided us the Stepstones are secure beyond anything the Triarchy can muster, leaving us bored out of our minds on those barren rocks." he says.
"And so you came to me in search of entertainment." Aemon adds, receiving a nod from Aegon in return.
Before Aemon can reply, Eredin enters the tent and kneels before Aemon without so much as glancing at his guests.
"We are ready to move, sire." he says.
"Continue on without me, I will catch up when I am able to." he commands.
"As you command." replies Eredin before standing and making his way out of the tent.
"It seems that we have come at a time where you are busy." remarks Daenerys.
"It is nothing." Aemon says. "Staying at Perseus' camp was making me restless, so I decided to accompany Eredin on this mission of his."
"Which is?" asks Jaehaerys.
"Hunting." Aemon replies. "We are hunting the Titan Lord's monster camps scattered around the country."
"How admirable. It seems that you have wholly embraced your role as their teacher." comments Jaehaerys.
"Well, I gave my word." he shrugs. "Still, the topic of discussion was not my position as a teacher. What exactly are you looking for to cure your boredom? Is there not work that can be done in preparation for the coalition in Asshai?" he asks.
"Perhaps." shrugs Rhaenys. "However, your lady vampire has things well in hand. She is a competent one." she adds.
"I would certainly hope so. She is in command of my operations in Westeros for a reason." Aemon tells her while he absentmindedly pulls up the chat group and sends a message out.
Before any of his siblings can answer he receives a reply from the group chat that gives him pause. It is not from anyone he expected to hear from, and in fact is from someone he had completely forgotten was a member of the group.
[The Hobbit: DRAGON! HELP!]
"Say? What do you say to visiting a new world with me?" asks Aemon, causing the others to perk up in excitement. "It is a world where our dragons would not be out of place there." he adds.
"Well, what are we waiting for?" demands Rhaenys with a grin. "Let's go!" she exclaims.
Author's Note: Sorry for the delay guys. Irl is still kicking my ass. Anyway, here's the latest chapter. As usual, tell me what you guys think.