| Chapter 02: The Lost Prince |

| Author's Note: I am making it that Eddard only travels south when Jon Snow is 18 years old. I know that changes some stuff, but I want it this way, also Aegon will be 16 at the start of the fanfic, so 2 years to go until stuff happens in winterfell. Well, time to dwelve into uncharted territory, in Yi Ti Aegon will be called by another name, but I will still refer to him as Aegon besides in dialogue, until he lears of his real name,— easier to understand, I think. Also, I have put brackets in this chapter for pictures. But as I write on the phone, I need someone to comment on them first so I can post the pictures. Enjoy the chapter! |

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Yi Ti, Xia Quo City - With Aegon Targaryen - 16 Years Later

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The streets of Xia Quo were alive with color.

Beneath the orange haze of the late afternoon sun, golden rooftops shimmered like dragon scales, and the great rivers that cut through the city sparkled with the reflection of a thousand silk flags flapping in the breeze.

[ Xia Quo Picture ]

Aegon had walked these streets all his life, but even now, he could never quite shake the feeling of being out of place.

Here, the faces were smooth and dark, their eyes almond-shaped, their hair black as night. They wore robes of yellow, jade, and red,— symbols of an empire that stretched further than the eye could see, beyond mountains, rivers, and forests, to the edge of the "known" world. Aegon, with his pale skin, silver hair, and violet eyes, was a stark contrast. He might as well have been a dragon in a sheepfold.

Not for the first time, Aegon glanced at his reflection in the murky water of a nearby canal, half-expecting to see someone else staring back at him.

The boy in the water was a stranger,— someone who didn't belong in this place. He sighed and ran his fingers through his shoulder-length hair, pulling it into a rough knot to keep it out of his face as he made his way through the bustling market.

Today, like every other day, was just another day of survival.

Aegon had lived most of his sixteen years here, in the crowded city of Xia Quo, as the ward,— though some would say servant,— of Master Phai, a minor silk trader of no great renown. Phai's business wasn't much, just a small stall nestled between the weavers and spice merchants, but it provided a roof over Aegon's head and food in his belly. And for that, Aegon was thankful.

[ Master Phai's Stall Picture ]

Yet, there were always questions, questions that had haunted him since he was old enough to notice the stares.

Why was he different? Who had he "been" before he came to this place? His earliest memories were faint, little more than flashes of unfamiliar faces and foreign words. A browned haired woman with sad eyes, holding him tightly. A feeling of cold stone beneath him, and the distant roar of something terrible,— like a storm, but alive with fire.

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The sound of vendors shouting broke him from his thoughts as he passed the familar market stalls, his hands tightening on the strap of the small, yet heavy crate he was carrying. He knew better than to get lost in daydreams while running errands. Master Phai was not a patient man, and lateness often meant a beating.

"Fresh river eel!" a vendor cried, holding up a wriggling, slimy creature for all to see. "Caught from the Jade River this very morning! The best in all of Yi Ti!"

Aegon wrinkled his nose as the smell of raw fish hit him. He hurried past the fishmonger, weaving through the throngs of people with practiced ease, making his way toward the outer district of the city, where Phai's silk stall lay in the shadow of the Imperial Walls.

[ Picture of the Imperial Walls ]

Those walls towered above the city like ancient sentinels, their stones worn smooth by centuries of wind and rain. Aegon had always wondered what lay beyond them,— beyond Yi Ti, beyond Xia Quo, beyond the endless horizon of this strange, exotic world.

But he had never dared to ask.

"Boy!" A voice barked from the stall ahead, and Aegon snapped to attention. Master Phai stood there, his arms crossed over his broad chest, a look of displeasure on his weathered face. Phai was a man of modest height but built like a bull, with skin the color of deep mahogany and a graying beard that curled at his chin. He wore the typical yellow robes of a Yi Ti merchant, though they were faded and patched in places.

[ Master Phai Picture ]

"You've been gone too long," Phai growled as Aegon approached. "I sent you to fetch those spices hours ago. Do you have them?"

"Yes, Master," Aegon said quickly, lifting the crate to show the dozens of small pouches of saffron and pepper nestled within. "The spice merchant was slow in weighing them."

Phai grunted, unimpressed, and snatched the crate from Aegon's hands. "Next time, be quicker. I don't have time for your dawdling."

Aegon bit back a retort and simply nodded. It was always the same with Phai. The man treated him like little more than a stray dog he had picked up off the streets,— useful yes, but not worth any more than what work he could get from him.

"I'll need you to make a delivery to the Jade Palace later on this evening," Phai continued, sorting through the spices. "One of the Emperor's advisors is ordering silk for the summer festival. I want it delivered before sundown."

Aegon's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Jade Palace. The towering palace was the seat of the Golden Emperor himself, a place of legends where the wealth and power of Yi Ti were concentrated. He had never been inside its gates, but he had often dreamed of what lay beyond the massive jade walls that tower over the city.

"Yes, Master." he murmured, his thoughts already racing ahead.

And as Phai returned to his work, Aegon took a step back, his gaze wandering toward the distant spires of the Jade Palace. He had been here long enough to understand that in Yi Ti, everything was ruled by the Emperor.

Beneath him, nobles schemed and whispered, vying for power in a game that spanned generations. The empire was ancient,— so old that even the histories were muddled with myths and forgotten truths.

But there was one story that Aegon could never get out of his mind: the legend of the Great Empire of the Dawn, a civilization that had once ruled the world, when even dragons soared in the sky and magic was woven into the very fabric of reality.

Dragons.

The word always sent a chill through Aegon, though he couldn't say why. It was as if it resonated deep inside him, stirring something he didn't quite yet understand.

But he couldn't falter in his work, and so, shaking the thought from his mind, Aegon turned back to the silk stall, rolling up his sleeves to begin preparing the evening's delivery.

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Almost half an hour later, as he worked, a stranger stepped forward from the crowd, moving with the quiet grace of a man who knew how to avoid attention.

He was cloaked in deep red silk, his face partially hidden by the hood, though his sharp eyes glittered beneath the shadow.

Aegon glanced up, but the man's gaze wasn't on the silk or the spices he had to offer. No, they were on Aegon himself, studying him with unsettling intensity.

Aegon's grip tightened on the fabric in his hands, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest.

The stranger approached the stall, his movements slow, deliberate. "You are the boy they call "Phai's ward", are you not?" he asked in a low, calm voice.

Aegon swallowed, his mind racing. "I am," he answered cautiously, though something about the man made his skin prickle with unease. "What of it?"

The stranger smiled, but it was a thin, knowing smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You stand out here, you know. A pale boy in a land of shadows. I find it curious,— Do you not?"

Aegon stiffened. It wasn't the first time someone had commented on his appearance, but there was something different about the way this man said it,— something that fell dangerous.

"I,— I was taken in by Master Phai when I was a child." Aegon said carefully, watching the man's reaction. "I don't remember where I came from before that."

The stranger chuckled softly, a low, almost mocking sound. "You do not remember because no one wants you to remember. But memories, like dragons, cannot be buried forever. They always rise."

Aegon's heart skipped a beat. There it was again,— dragons. He stared at the man, his mind spinning with questions he was too afraid to ask.

Before Aegon could speak, the stranger leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. "The past has a way of catching up with those who run from it, boy. One day, you will have to choose. Will you keep running, or will you turn and face the fire?"

With that, the stranger turned and vanished into the crowd as quickly as he had appeared, leaving Aegon standing there, shaken and confused.

"Who was that?" Aegon muttered to himself, his fingers still trembling.

But there was no answer. The streets of Xia Quo bustled on as if nothing had happened, and Aegon, still rattled by the encounter, forced himself to focus on his work.

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As the sun sank lower in the sky, casting a deep orange glow over the city, Aegon loaded the rolls of silk onto a small cart and began the long walk toward the Jade Palace.

The towering palace loomed ahead, its gates shimmering with jade and gold, guarded by statues of fierce lions and long-forgotten emperors.

The closer Aegon came to the palace, the heavier the weight on his chest.

The massive gates of the Jade Palace towered above him, shimmering with jade and gold, their intricate carvings depicting scenes of ancient battles, long-forgotten emperors, and strange creatures he had only seen in stories,— dragons, lions, and serpents.

[ The Palace's Picture ]

It was a fortress of unimaginable grandeur, its spires piercing the sky like talons. Aegon could only imagine the opulence that lay beyond those gates.

The palace itself was the heart of Yi Ti's power, and yet, it felt as though it existed in a world completely apart from his own.

As he approached, the Imperial Guards,— clad in gleaming armor of gold and green,— watched him with impassive faces, their hands resting on the hilts of their long spears. Aegon kept his head down, trying to avoid their gaze as he pulled the cart to a stop in front of the gates.

"State your business." One of the guards barked, stepping forward.

"I-I'm here to deliver the silk ordered for the summer festival." Aegon stammered, lifting the scroll that bore Phai's seal.

The guard eyed him for a moment, then took the scroll, inspecting the seal carefully before giving a curt nod. "Very well. You may enter, boy."

With a groan, the great gates creaked open, and Aegon was allowed to step through into the Jade Palace grounds. And as the gates closed behind him, sealing him off from the rest of the city, Aegon felt a strange shiver run down his spine.

The courtyard was vast, lined with towering trees of golden leaves and flowers that glistened in the fading light. Statues of forgotten gods and mythical creatures lined the walkways, their eyes seeming to follow his every step. The air here was different,— cooler, but thick with an energy that made his skin tingle.

Aegon was led by a palace servant, a boy not much older than himself, toward the Silk Pavilion, where the festival decorations were being prepared. As they walked, Aegon couldn't help but marvel at the splendor around him.

Everywhere he looked, there were symbols of wealth and power,— gilded pillars, tapestries woven with scenes from Yi Ti's glorious past, and towering pagodas of jade and gold.

But it wasn't just the grandeur that held his attention. There was something else here, something deeper,— a feeling of ancient magic that seemed to hum in the air, almost like the echo of a dragon's roar.

Aegon had felt it before, in small moments, but here, within the heart of the Jade Palace, it was overwhelming. He could feel it in his bones, in his blood, as if something inside him was trying to stirr awake.

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As they approached the pavilion, Aegon's thoughts drifted back to the stranger from the market. "Memories, like dragons, cannot be buried forever." the man had said.

Those words had unnerved him, but now, in the shadow of the palace, they seemed to take on a new weight.

Who was that man? And how did he know about dragons?

"Here we are." the servant boy said, stopping in front of the pavilion. "You can unload the silk here. Someone will come to collect it later."

Aegon nodded, grateful for the distraction.

He unloaded the rolls of silk from the cart, stacking them carefully beside the pavilion.

The weight of the palace's energy pressed down on him, and he found himself looking over his shoulder more than once, half-expecting someone to be watching him. But the courtyard was empty, save for the soft rustle of the trees and the distant murmur of palace servants.

When the last roll of silk was unloaded, Aegon straightened, wiping the sweat from his brow. He glanced up at the towering pagodas in the distance, their spires lit by the soft glow of lanterns. Somewhere in that labyrinth of halls and chambers sat the Golden Emperor, the most powerful man in the "known" world. Aegon had heard the stories,— the Emperor was said to be descended from the Great Empire of the Dawn, the first empire of men, when even dragons soared through the skies and magic flowed like rivers.

Aegon's gaze lingered on the palace for a moment longer, a strange sense of longing swelling in his chest.

Who am I really?

The question gnawed at him, more fiercely than ever. He had lived his entire life as a nobody, a servant in what felt like a foreign land. Yet, deep down, there was always a feeling,— an instinct,— that he was meant for more.

Suddenly, a soft and alluring voice broke through his thoughts.

"You don't belong here, do you?" Aegon turned sharply, his heart leaping into his throat.

A figure stood in the shadows of the pavilion, draped in deep purple silk, her face partially hidden by the folds of her hood. But there was no mistaking her regal posture or the air of authority that surrounded her.

"I…" Aegon stammered, unsure of what to say. He hadn't noticed her approach him.

The woman stepped forward, her face coming into the light. She was older than Aegon had expected,— twenty-five years old if he had to guess her age. Her features were sharp and severe, her eyes cold and calculating.

[ ******* Picture ]

She studied him for a long moment, as if weighing something in her mind.

"You are not from Yi Ti," she said, her voice calm but cutting. "You are far from home, handsome."

Aegon's throat tightened. "I,—" He swallowed hard, his mind racing. "I was taken in as a child. I don't remember where I'm from." The woman's lips curled into a thin seductive smile, though there was no warmth in it. "And yet, you are here, standing in the shadow of the Jade Palace, where only those with purpose tread."

Aegon shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know what she meant, but there was something unsettling about the way she spoke. It was as if she saw straight through him, as if she knew something he didn't.

"You should leave." she said, turning her back on him. "Before you awaken something you are not prepared to face."

Aegon opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Before he could gather the courage to ask her what she meant, she was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the palace grounds.

Aegon stood there, staring after her, his mind swirling with confusion and unease. What had she meant by awakening something?

And why had she seemed so certain that he didn't belong?

The sun had nearly set now, casting long shadows across the courtyard. Aegon shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He had no time for riddles. He needed to return to Phai before nightfall.

But as he turned to leave the palace, a familiar tugging sensation pulled at his chest. It was the same feeling he had felt so many times before,— the sense that something was calling to him, beckoning him from the depths of his soul. He hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the palace, his heart pounding.

Memories, like dragons, cannot be buried forever.

Aegon clenched his fists, then turned and walked away, the gates of the Jade Palace closing behind him with a heavy, final thud.

But the feeling lingered, the unanswered questions gnawing at him, more fiercely than ever before.

Who am I?

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