Ribbons of radiant light stretched endlessly in both directions. Countless shimmering strands raced beneath my feet, each seeming to possess a life of its own. One burned with the golden brilliance of a newborn sun; another shimmered with the serene glow of moonlight upon still waters. Some flowed in deep sapphire, others in emerald and violet, their colors weaving together like living currents rather than mere streams of light.
I took a step.
Golden light blossomed beneath my foot, chasing away the surrounding colors for the briefest of moments before they flowed back together. Every step I took left behind another radiant footprint, as if the endless sea of light itself had chosen to remember my passage.
With every step, I felt as though something was making me stronger and weaker at the same time. It was an impossible sensation, as if immense power was flowing into me even as something equally vital was being drawn away.
I kept walking. I didn't know why, but every instinct within me screamed that if I stopped now, the very purpose of my existence would be left unfulfilled.
I walked on, time losing all meaning around me. With every step I took, I felt myself changing, as though an unseen force was remaking me from the very core of my being.
"Hmm..."
A voice echoed through my very being, as though every fiber of my existence had heard it at once.
"What a curious case."
My legs, which had carried me forward for what felt like an eternity, came to an abrupt halt.
Standing before me was a being of pure light.
Countless bridges, like the one I had walked upon, converged upon him from every direction. They stretched across the endless void, each connected to him as though he were their source, the heart from which every path in existence was born.
"A part of me that never discovered its purpose," the being said. My thoughts ground to a halt. A part of him? Was... I a part of him?
"Were you lost in life, little one?" the being asked as it drifted closer.
Its face was larger than the greatest mountain I had ever seen, and yet I could behold it in its entirety, as though neither distance nor size held any meaning in this place.
"You tried your hardest, didn't you? But I'm afraid... you were walking in the wrong direction."
"The wrong direction?" I whispered, unable to comprehend his words. "But... I... I did everything they wanted me to do..." I could not remember anything, My Family, My name, My life, nothing.
"Your soul was never satisfied with the life you lived, my friend. And so, it brought you here... back to me."
"What...?" I whispered. "I don't understand. What's happening? Why can't I remember anything?" My legs gave out beneath me.
I could no longer stand. The being looked upon me with boundless patience.
"You will," it said gently. "In time, you will remember."
It paused, and for a brief moment, the countless bridges converging upon it seemed to pulse with light.
"After all, you spent thousands of years finding your way back to me." A faint smile graced its radiant face. "So what is another lifetime?"
"What?"
Before I knew it, light enveloped me.
The countless bridges converged upon the being, their radiance becoming one blinding brilliance.
Then...
***
"Aerion, stop right there!" Rhaenys shouted, her tiny legs pumping furiously as she chased after him.
Aerion paid her no heed. Hugging the cat tightly against his chest, he darted between the rows of benches, laughter spilling from his lips as the determined little princess pursued him.
A soft chuckle escaped Ashara.
"Children possess a kind of freedom the rest of us lose far too quickly," she murmured. "To them, the world is little more than a playground."
She settled back in her chair, her eyes following the silver-haired boy the princess had met only moments earlier. It was almost amusing how quickly they had become inseparable. Neither cared that one was a prince and the other a princess. They were simply two children chasing one another beneath the summer sun.
Elia's lips curved into a gentle smile as she watched them.
Cradled safely in her arms, little Aegon slept soundly, blissfully unaware of the burdens carried by the adults around him.
"I wish moments like this could last forever," Elia said softly.
Her smile lingered for only a moment before her thoughts drifted elsewhere.
"The King..." she began quietly. "He truly fears Prince Maegor."
Ashara glanced at her.
"I never imagined Aerys Targaryen feared anyone."
"It's because of a decree King Jaehaerys issued before his death," Ashara replied.
Elia turned to her, curiosity replacing the warmth in her expression.
"A decree?"
Ashara nodded.
"Arthur once told me that King Jaehaerys believed Prince Maegor was the finest ruler House Targaryen had ever produced. He wanted him to succeed him."
Elia blinked in surprise.
"But Prince Maegor refused the crown."
"He did?"
"He did."
Ashara smiled faintly.
"The king was relentless, though. He ordered Prince Maegor to remain at court for a few moons and personally teach Prince Aerys how to rule."
Her gaze wandered briefly toward the distant royal pavilion.
"When he believed his duty fulfilled, Prince Maegor departed Westeros with his wife, Princess Vaella, and their son, Prince Daeron. They sailed east and vanished from the realm."
Elia remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
Ashara leaned forward until only Elia could hear her.
"Arthur said King Jaehaerys never forgave him for leaving."
"What did he do?"
"He issued a royal decree. One that would tear your family apart should it ever come to light."
Even speaking the words felt dangerous.
"So long as Prince Maegor, or any of his direct descendants, live, they possess the right to walk into the Red Keep and lawfully claim the Iron Throne."
Elia frowned.
Ashara continued in little more than a whisper.
"Until that day comes, whoever sits the Iron Throne rules only as a regent... in Prince Maegor's stead."
Silence settled between them.
Only the laughter of the children drifted across the stands.
Elia stared at her friend, scarcely believing what she had heard.
"You're telling me..." she whispered, "...that Aerys has never truly been king?"
Ashara gave a slow, reluctant nod.
"According to King Jaehaerys's decree... no."
Her eyes drifted toward the silver-haired boy racing away with the cat while Rhaenys chased after him, both laughing without a care in the world.
Elia followed her gaze.
For a long moment, neither woman spoke.
Finally, Elia swallowed.
"Do you think..." she asked quietly, "Prince Maegor will claim the Iron Throne?"
Ashara watched Aerion stumble, burst into laughter, and spring back to his feet before Rhaenys could catch him.
A faint smile crossed her lips.
"I don't know."
***
"My son and his wife are dead," Maegor said quietly before emptying the wine from his goblet in a single swallow. He set the cup back upon the table with surprising care. "Vaella is in King's Landing. She'll meet us there once we return."
The words settled over the table like a funeral shroud. No one reached for their food. Even the servants lingering nearby instinctively kept their distance.
Ser Gerold Hightower was the first to break the silence. Taking the seat beside Maegor, the Lord Commander inclined his head in respect.
"I'm deeply sorry for your loss, my prince. Prince Daeron was a good man. The realm was better for having known him."
Across the length of the table, Aerys sat frozen, his fingers tightening around his goblet until his knuckles turned white.
"Daeron... died?"
Disbelief filled his voice.
Prince Daeron had been second only to Maegor himself. There had not been a knight in the Seven Kingdoms capable of matching him, nor a warrior whose name inspired greater confidence. To Aerys, Daeron had seemed as unbreakable as the Wall itself.
If even Daeron could die... what hope did the rest of them have?
"Yes," Maegor replied. "He died a moon ago... along with his wife."
For several moments, Aerys simply stared at him.
"Daeron... married?"
A faint nod answered the question.
"They often spoke of finding their life's purpose before they left," Maegor said, his gaze fixed upon the untouched wine before him. "At the time, I dismissed it as the idealism of youth. They left Aerion in Vaella's and my care. He was barely a year old."
His fingers traced the rim of the goblet, though he made no attempt to drink again.
"One moon became six. Six became a year. Then another passed without so much as a raven. So I went looking for them."
The fire crackled softly in the hearth as Maegor's eyes drifted somewhere far beyond the walls of Harrenhal.
"I searched as far into the ruins of Old Valyria as even I dared. Every ruined street, every shattered temple, every place where they might have sought shelter. For days there was nothing. No tracks. No belongings. Not even a sign that another living soul had passed that way except the stone men who had been exiled there."
His voice remained steady, but every word carried the weight of memory.
"Then I found them."
The chamber fell deathly silent.
"Two skeletons holding each other."
Even Ser Gerold lowered his gaze.
"My son's sword..." Maegor paused, closing his eyes for the briefest moment before forcing himself onward. "...was buried in his own heart."
No one spoke.
The silence lingered, broken only by the crackling fire and the distant murmur of the feast beyond the chamber.
At length, Maegor drew a slow breath.
"I can only assume his wife died first." His eyes never left the goblet before him. "Daeron loved her more than life itself. I believe... he simply couldn't bear a world without her."