[Edric's POV]
The red moon phenomenon eventually died down, and so did the cult predicting it was the end of the world. They looked like a band of buffoons, in the end. For the first couple of days, Victoria was great… until one occasion.
I was simply holding her and doing a bit of playing about when she touched my eye.
Splat.
It seemed to shoot out, as if it exploded from within. Blood sprayed out onto her hand, and she giggled like it was entertaining, even having a lick of her work.
As much as I was angry, I was more so bewildered by the sudden loss of my right eye. What the fuck just happened? Was I just disabled by a newborn? What if it were someone else?
What a little demon you are…
I raised my head beyond her little grasp.
"A baby like you shouldn't have this power."
As much as I disliked clipping a dragon's wings, in this case… I really had no choice. She could have mortally wounded someone else or, even worse, killed them. Although I had really no knowledge in terms of sealing magic or if I could do so in the first place, I made my best effort.
To be honest, it was simpler than I imagined. Within a day, I had all that troublesome blood magic sealed up without a single drop leaking out. I believe I had Marri Mazdur to thank for all of that. It seemed as if Victoria had absorbed the curse in some form and made it her own.
Now I only had one eye…
I hoped my draconic regeneration would pull through. Otherwise, the Night King had better lose his right eye too. It would only be fair, right, Aerion? To keep the precious 'balance'.
"What happened to your eye?"
Everyone would ask me thereafter.
My three-day-old daughter shot it out would be the correct answer. If she wasn't mine, I'd toss her out from the top of the Red Keep with the mightiest throw the Known World had ever witnessed. But… perhaps it was my fault for not sealing her up as soon as possible and believing myself to be invulnerable to her little hands.
...
"It's funny that Victoria did more sustaining damage to me with one touch as a newborn than all my prior foes combined," I couldn't help but laugh a little.
"It's not funny," Daenerys raised a concerned eyebrow. "I… was right. Her power is destructive."
"So is mine, only I awakened mine when I was older. I've used it well enough, haven't I? As for the current problem, I sealed her power away."
"Will you be able to recover, fully?"
"Possibly."
"That still raises questions for the future…"
"It'll be fine. She's a baby who's entirely clueless about everything around her."
Although, I was a tiny bit concerned at the giggling.
"... I hope you're right."
Victoria had given me the most irritating itch known to mankind. As my eye socket had been covered in scales, my new eye began to grow within. Never had I ever wanted to tear something off as much… but I relented, letting the process go by naturally.
Eventually, the scales fell out themselves… and I was met with one burning golden eye. It had the elongated pupil akin to a dragon's, like a spear going down my eye. I was pleased to have a second working eye again, despite the mismatch. It made me wonder if it was superior... and if I should gouge out the other myself.
Though after some deeper observations, it seemed like each had its own advantages. Oddly enough, my human eye could see substantially further and perceive details with greater clarity, whereas the dragon-eye had a wider view and could perceive a ray of colours I couldn't before. It could also see previously invisible strands of magic, such as a mix of amber and green around Alysanne and an aquamarine aura around Garth. Victoria, on the other hand, glowed with a very faint red.
I didn't see mine until I channelled my magic. As it turns out, my 'aura' was obsidian purple with strands of radiant gold. If these aura colours meant anything... only the gods knew.
As disorientating as it was to see two different views, I decided to give it a try at getting used to it. Best of both worlds - only my brain was the one suffering, trying to process everything.
I can only go forward.
[Arthur's POV]
'Emperor' Pol Qo, hammer of Jogos Nhai, and the self-proclaimed first orange emperor would fall to Ser Arthur's blade after seven bouts, during the last of which Arthur had deflected his hammer and seared through the man. His lowerbody remained on his horse, while the rest fell to the ground - joining his crumbling garrison.
After that, the men who had served the pretender scattered, lacking purpose and shrouded in fear. Arthur and his company of warriors would return his head to the azure emperor, drowning in praise. After that, they would take the long journey to Carcosa in the further east. First, they sailed to a coastal town further east of YiTi before taking the long ride through the shadow lands.
The land was mountainous, however, making it impossible to traverse by horse. It was almost always dark as well... giving it an eerie sense of danger. Arthur felt the pressure of dragons creeping up from behind - yet there didn't seem to be any. Everyone else wanted to turn back. The journey could not possibly be worthwhile...
After some deliberation, Arthur had made his choice.
"We go only forward."
So, they began to journey across the mountains for what felt like moons on end. He had a map... but it was hard to make sense of anything. The only indication of where they were would be the hidden sea. And, after an absolutely gruelling journey, they had seen it in the distance. The land was absolutely desolate, and their supplies were almost depleted.
After that, the journey was much simpler as they tread along the hidden sea to the east, using it to catch fish and eventually discovering Carcosa - where the proclaimed 69th yellow emperor of Yi Ti had been hiding. A supposed sorceror lord. These emperors living so far from the Golden Empire yet proclaiming themselves as true monarchs reminded Arthur a bit of Viserys and Daenerys of the past.
Emperor of what, a foreign city?
Arthur and his company of warriors would break down the gates and carve through the garrison, all the way to the sorceror lord's very throneroom. It was a grim, horrible place covered in displays of cruelty from one corner to the next. Impalements, flayed corpses, burnt corpses, corpses half-eaten, a hill of broken bones, bodies torn in half, gouged out eyes, slashed open mouths wrapping almost perfectly around. This lord was a proud, twisted artist of death.
"The foreigners come for me..." He laughed in the common tongue, his face hidden by shadows. "Come, join the fallen."
The throneroom changed to a blackened arena, lit by ghastly green lanterns. What was this... an illusion? Arthur was even more bewildered by group of men standing before him.
The first of which was... clad in white, Kingsguard armour. Black hair, determined purple eyes. His greatsword was as bright as the stars. He had never seen it before, he had never seen this man in person before, yet he knew. It was his namesake, his idol and hero, the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne.
But how?
What in Seven Hells...
The other four beside him looked to be no less formidable. The antlered greathelm, black armour, warhammer... it was Edric's late father, the demon of the Trident. A man clad in Targaryen colours, only reversed, wielding Blackfyre. His dragon-winged helmet was all too distinctive. It was King Daemon Blackfyre, the First of His Name. The fourth was a beautiful valyrian queen, clad in armour, and wielding a Valyrian Steel blade that seemed familiar to Blackfyre... it would be Queen Visenya.
The last of the group was entirely foreign to Arthur, with two giant red horsehairs splitting to either side from his headdress. He was towering, wielding an imposingly large halberd.
On his side, he had Ser Jaime, Sandor Clegane, Valaegor and Rhaerra.
What kind of sorcery is this?
"What in Seven Hells is this?" Sandor Clegane was just as bewildered.
"Fallen warriors drawn from your spirits..." The Sorceror Lord's voice echoed. "The silver lord showed me the way to this brilliant power. All of your magic is meaningless here, hahahaha. This is a world where only true martial prowess reigns! You are outmatched, and you shall soon join my growing collection. I look forward to it."
The silver lord?
"KINGSLAYER!"
Once he finished, Robert stormed forward towards Jaime. Before Arthur could do anything, he was met with the gleam of Dawn. He blocked with Nightfall.
"Is there any warrior here who can pose any meaningful challenge?!"
The foreign warrior met Valaegor, Rhaerra took Visenya and Sandor was left with Daemon Blackfyre. This really was... all too strange.
Arthur Dayne did not fight like an imposter, that was for certain. He had Arthur Tudburry on the backfoot constantly, with absolutely no room to counter. He was considerably stronger, that was clear enough, but... Arthur had the edge of speed.
Once the shock of facing his hero faded away, the two Arthurs looked more equal than before.
"You fight well," Arthur Dayne remarked. "With skill that is worthy of your white cloak."
If Arthur Dayne meant to kill him with flattery, he may well have succeeded.
Still... whatever this illusion was, Arthur had no intentions of losing - for that would seemingly not end well. As for the rest, Jaime was doing his best not to get his skull caved in, Rhaerra was struggling greatly, Valaegor was being outmatched, and so was Sandor.
He seemed to be the only one matching his foe blow for blow.
We'll all lose if this continues...
Arthur deflected Dawn, before dashing off and speeding through the arena. The Sword of the Morning could not catch up to Arthur's blistering speed. He charged Visenya, who was preoccupied with ending Rhaerra, and cut Nightfall into her. She tried to make a reply with Dark Sister, but Rhaerra slit open her throat.
Dawn followed, its white gleam coming for Arthur. He dashed to the side, avoiding its blade.
"Rhaerra, go and support the Hound."
She nodded.
"A dishonourable display," Arthur Dayne remarked.
"There is honour in abandoning your own to save a friend," Arthur countered. "I will do whatever is necessary to protect my companions and triumph over you and all my other foes. Not just that... it sickens me that such great warriors have been reduced to nothing more than puppets on strings to some sorceror lord."
"I seek to put a swift end to this, and grant you the rest you deserve."
"Determination drives you... but it will not be enough," Ser Arthur Dayne noted. "Far from it."
"For the longest time, all I ever wanted to do was amount to even a fraction of what you were... then I sought to match you... but now, I've no choice but to surpass you."
With so much at stake, Ser Arthur did not fall under pressure. He thrived in it - meeting the Sword of the Morning head on. In each clash, he grew more familiar with his foe, and the tides began to turn. It was a brilliant dance, one that pushed him to the very limit and made him discover his true strength.
Using his greater speed, he nicked at Arthur Dayne's armour, slicing through its openings and wounding the knight. The longer it went on, the closer victory loomed. He made no mistakes, fighting flawlessly. Even in raw sword skill, he began to outmatch Ser Arthur Dayne.
In the end, only one Ser Arthur could triumph.
With an absolutely perfect parry, Dawn clattered to the ground, and Ser Arthur had him. The look of acknowledgement in those purple eyes said it all.
"I've lost to my better."
"..."
Nightfall shook slightly.
"End it, Ser... you've beaten me."
Closing his eyes, Ser Arthur cut down the legend he admired to no end. He knew it was an illusion... yet it felt all too real. There was no time to celebrate, however.
"Jaime, switch!"
He went to face the Demon of the Trident next.
"As you wish."
Although Jaime Lannister had no great wounds to speak of, he was fatigued. Robert's armour had been damaged, however. The two seemed to match well.
"Go ahead and help Valaegor. He seems to be faltering."
"Him?" Jaime Lannister raised an eyebrow. "He'd rather die than receive aid."
"Figure it out."
Before doing anything, Jaime would take Dawn. Meanwhile, Arthur clashed against Robert. Having duelled Edric an endless number of times... he was most familiar with the warhammer, more than the rest combined.
"Don't get in my path, boy."
"It's time to put you to rest, Your Grace."
Warm with confidence from his prior victory, Arthur faced Robert without fear. He discovered that Edric had not only been stronger... but also faster than his father. In all things physical, he surpassed him. Even so, Robert was absolutely formidable.
One blow from him still meant certain defeat, yet Arthur's speed was no less deadly... only it killed more slowly.
Rhaerra and Sandor, despite facing Daemon together, were losing. He had greatly wounded Rhaerra, and the Hound was constantly on the backfoot. The Black Dragon was a swordsman like no other.
"Did you know... Edric married Daenerys?" Arthur questioned, choosing to strike with a mental blow.
"What?"
He was caught so bewildered that his guard was entirely open, and Arthur left no advantage untaken. He went straight for the head, cutting into it. Robert had one last surge of strength, hitting Arthur's head with his own. The blow led to Arthur stumbling back in a daze.
Eventually, he recovered and drew out Nightfall.
Valaegor and Jaime were working together against the mighty foreign warrior, while Daemon Blackfyre was making short work of what remained of the Hound. He almost had him.
Arthur blocked Blackfyre with Nightfall.
"You've defeated three of us already," Daemon noted.
"Make it four."
"I am not like the others."
He was not lying, as Arthur would soon discover. Despite overcoming the Sword of the Morning, he felt outmatched against Daemon Blackfyre. Daemon matched his speed, he was slightly stronger, more skilled... even his sword could be argued as superior.
It was a monumental challenge, but Arthur would face it with all his might.
Their Valyrian Steel would sing with each clash, as neither swordsman gave an inch of space. There was one thing the illusion could not match, however, and that was Arthur's burning will.
"You are the second greatest opponent I have ever faced,"
"It's a shame you'll never meet Edric," Arthur remarked, smiling slightly. "I believe he would have relished facing you."
"... Edric Storm?" Daemon questioned. "... That would be the greatest of the lot."
"...?" Arthur was puzzled. "What?"
Meanwhile, Sandor grabbed hold of Daemon's foot and dragged him down. Then, he and Rhaerra assaulted him all at once. Arthur gave a hand and, well, the Black Dragon fell.
He would have much preferred to best him in single combat, but... victory was more important.
"FIVE PEONS AT ONCE?" The warrior roared. "No matter the number of you, peons are still peons. I, the 43rd Scarlet Emperor, shall defeat you all!"
He was... driven by a battle frenzy that may have even surpassed Edric's. Still, no matter his madness or sheer strength, they had him outmatched and cut down the great warrior eventually - breaking the illusion.
They had won.
The sorceror lord retreated to his throne, having nowhere to go. It seems that whatever happened in that arena... didn't affect them physically.
"That is the end of all your tricks?" Arthur questioned.
"Stay away... stay away..."
Valaegor tossed his poleaxe straight into the lord's chest.
"Fucking cunt had me coordinating with goldy of all people," He cursed.
"I thought that we worked quite well," Jaime remarked, with a drop of jest. "A little too well."
"How gladening," Arthur chuckled. "Let's take something to remember him by and as many supplies as possible. It's a long journey back."
...
Back in the Shadow Lands.
"This crimson red moon reminds me of that comet some years ago..." Valaegor mused, observing it with awe. "It meant the return of the dragons. What could this one mean?"
"Can't you see it through the fire of your Red God?" Sandor Clegane scoffed.
"All I witnessed was blood and fire, a world covered in it," Valaegor replied, shaking his head. "The visions are never as clear as I'd like..."
"Fire and blood," Arthur said, in turn. "Mayhaps it's the birth of Edric's first trueborn child."
"It would seem fitting," Jaime nodded.
"Or one of those mythical dragons living in the shadow lands is coming to burn us alive," Rhaerra added.
"Don't curse us, thank you," Arthur smiled, shaking his head. "We've gone through enough on this journey..."
"Quite right," Valaegor agreed. "I want to leave this desolate land swiftly... and that azure emperor better give a fitting reward for our troubles."
"I don't think any reward he can grab out of his arse would be worth the trouble," Sandor Clegane replied.
"Hmmm... I am curious about his daughters. Given the supposed beauty of his concubines, well," Valaegor chuckled. "I may like an imperial princess for a mistress of my own. It's the least he could provide."
Arthur rolled his eyes. "Remember the task at hand."
"You know what they say, a happy man, is an effective fighter. My morale is crumbling to pieces. I need encouragement."
"Don't we all?" Arthur laughed.
"Rhaerraaa..." Valaegor turned. "Help a cousin out-"
"Don't even think about it."
"Awww," Valaegor pouted like a lost puppy. "How come it's always beautiful women who have the cruellest hearts?"
"Tell your Red God to aid you," Jaime remarked. "Mayhaps he'll find you a bride of fire."
"..." Valaegor sighed. "If only... speaking of brides, is Lady Stark truly safe in the imperial palace?"
"Why wouldn't she be?" Arthur questioned.
And she is not a bride... so far.
"Well, the azure emperor is who he is..." Valaegor shrugged. "He might be tempted, and there's really no one to stop him."
"He wouldn't dare," Arthur frowned, feeling a surge of fire in his body.
"Even he isn't that stupid," Sandor Clegane added.
Of course, Arthur would have preferred to have her at his side, but this journey was no place for a lady. Having done so much for the azure emperor, surely he wouldn't try something like that? The smallest possibility of that unsettled him still.
That would not be the only thing.
A distant roar echoed...
"Did you hear that?" Valaegor raised an eyebrow.
"..."
Arthur put a hand on the handle of Nightfall, looking across the crimson-lit sky. A colossal black shadow soared - a dragon, dozens of times larger than any of the three under Daenerys. It came for them.
"A bloody dragon..."
Damn you, Edric... and Rhaerra.