15 Preparations

"Jaime, Oswell and Arthur... the call to war has come."

"Against who?" Jaime inquired, turning to face Aerion.

"The Usurper himself."

"So the fateful day has arrived." Arthur sighed. "We might not be able to resist him... not at this very moment, I believe."

"You worry too much, Ser Arthur. The royal navy of the Seven Kingdoms is only slightly stronger, if not equal, to ours which means that we are more than capable of repelling him. However, before doing so, we will be taking Myr to increase the size of my undead army to ensure victory."

"Even the thought of facing Robert no longer fazes you, my prince." Oswell chuckled. "If the Usurper does face an embarrassing loss, then we will have all the momentum to strike King's Landing."

"No, we will not be doing that," Aerion stated.

"Why not?" Jaime replied. "You will have a decent chance of taking King's Landing and the Iron Throne directly. Once it falls, the Targaryen loyalists will rise once more to assist House Targaryen."

"And how many will rise against me?" Aerion countered. "Hmm... House Baratheon, House Lannister, House Tully, House Stark and possibly House Arryn. Seeing the tides of war, House Tyrell may also join that list. I will only have a few houses along with only one great House against four to six other great houses."

"I have not forgotten my right as the King of the Seven Kingdoms but neither will I risk everything for a slight chance of becoming King."

"I suppose you have a point," Jaime admitted.

"You know of my ambitions." Aerion smiled. "The Seven Kingdoms will simply have to wait a few more years before I make my glorious return as an Emperor."

"An Emperor... you certainly do not lack ambition." Jaime smiled. "The Usurper can keep the Iron Throne warm until you return and defeat him with ease."

"He will put up a good fight... but I will be a far greater man by then. A man akin to God."

My magic has no limits, after all.

~

295 AC, two weeks later.

Aerion's forces landed on the port of Myr.

He looked towards the free city with a smile, knowing that it would soon be his. The undead stormed the port first, followed by his professional soldiers. There were very few combatants to face at the port so Aerion and his army made quick work of them.

From atop the walls, a group of well-dressed men appeared. "What is the meaning of this!?"

"Why," Aerion shrugged "This is my conquest of Myr. Do I need to explain?"

"No, no... you do not. We intended to invite you to the city days ago but it seems that you have already made your way here." One of the magisters laughed. "We, Myrmen, are not fools, my prince."

"That is most splendid to hear." Aerion smiled. "Open the walls and I will proclaim myself as the ruler of Myr."

"Ah, about that... perhaps we may come upon a bargain? I propose an alliance where we will financially support you in your future battles while also remaining independent from your rule. This can prove to be beneficial for both sides-"

Aerion laughed. "Independent... much like the Tyroshi, you are fools. Do you think that I, Aerion Targaryen, would allow for such an alliance to exist? You are inferior to me and I can conquer you at this very moment... why would I need an alliance?"

"Since you are an impotent bunch, allow me to make a more realistic proposal!"

"Why don't you and the rest of the magistrates bend the knee and relinquish control of the garrison to me? Either you do it now or I will slay every last one of you once the walls are breached. By surrendering now, you will make this a more simple affair."

"No, we will not surrender." The magistrate replied. "Myr will not fall as Tyrosh did."

"You overestimate yourself, Dragon Prince. Myr is more than prepared to face your little army of undead as we have a host of unsullied! A host of real men... unlike your pack of skeletons." Another magistrate added.

"Oh, you do?" Aerion approvingly nodded. "Most excellent of you to do so. It only means that my army will be even greater after this battle!"

Aerion waved his hand and a greater fireblast was sent in the direction of the gate.

BOOM.

The entire gate burned away into smithereens as Aerion charged into the city. There was, indeed, a host of unsullied behind the gate in a tight formation of shields and spears.

A phalanx.

"Forward!" One of the unsullied, presumably an officer, spoke in valyrian.

Aerion watched as the unsullied formation slowly walked towards him. He opened his palm as a spiral of grey wind started to form. "A futile effort."

He, too, spoke in valyrian.

Mighty Roar!

The formation shattered completely once Aerion's wind struck. Dozens were butchered to death while the rest were thrown off the ground. The rest of the Myrmen garrison watched in shock as their first two lines of defence had been broken within seconds.

Aerion turned to his men who were behind him.

"Onward, my men, to another triumphant conquest!"

Aerion moved onto the walls with a detachment of undead soldiers and his Kingsguard. An unsullied soldier looked down at him with great hesitance as Aerion walked up the stairs. The display from earlier was what made him truly hesitant. If he could send dozens of unsullied flying, then why couldn't he send away another?

They fear me.

Aerion smirked and cut through the unsullied soldier's defences before dealing a fatal blow. More of them gathered soon enough but his forces managed to break through. Once Aerion reached the walls, his eyes looked forwards and towards the fleeing magistrates. Although some did decide to flee, most of them stayed in place.

Where do they think they're going?

Aerion wondered.

The attachment of undead swiftly cut through the soldiers on the walls before descending downwards to support the rest in securing Myr. Aerion looked at the standing magistrates with his Kingsguard beside him.

"I have no interest in you for now... so long as you open the gates the next time I return, I will be willing to let the whole lot of you live."

"Thank you, Dragon Prince."

Aerion joined the battle in the city of Myr soon after, where his undead and professional troops were pushing back the garrison of Myr. Once the possibility of victory seemed bleak, some of the men surrendered but Aerion killed most of them off nevertheless. They were no more than sellswords who would ask for gold... however, a small majority were unsullied who he valued more. Since the unsullied had already been bought, he would not need to pay them further.

He had all of the magistrates gathered and forced to bend the knee. Those who had fled and acted arrogantly earlier were put to the sword. He made the nobles of Myr bend as well before strengthening his army through necromancy. The magistrates were to remain as rulers of Myr in his absence as he was preparing to face the Usurper in battle.

Aerion would certainly be changing the leadership once he had the time... but, alas, he did not have the time at this very moment. Still, he did assert his supreme authority while he stayed there.

After a month, the number of men under his command rose to twenty-two hundred.

Aerion did not linger in Myr for much longer, taking some of Myr's ships and sailing his navy back to Tyrosh. While he was in Myr, Aerion had bought himself a Myrish spyglass which allowed him to see further ahead in the seas.

Once he returned to the coast of Tyrosh, Aerion looked across the surroundings and found no trace of the royal navy. After observing the size of his own navy, Aerion decided that he would face the royal navy directly instead of staying inside of Tyrosh's walls and letting Robert siege the city.

~

The middle of 295 AC, the Narrow Sea.

Two massive fleets faced each other, one with the banners of several Houses while the other fleet only bore a single banner. The banner of House Targaryen... something that many considered a thing of the past. And here it was, standing tall and proud over half a hundred ships.

Robert Baratheon drank a cup of wine before the battle, looking directly at Aerion's fleet.

"The dragonspawn... it has been quite a while since someone stood against me so defiantly." Robert smiled. "At last, a true challenge has emerged."

Robert had craved battle for a long time... unfortunately, an opportunity had not arisen since the Greyjoy Rebellion. Until now, that is.

"Your Grace, do you truly intend on participating in the battle?"

Robert Baratheon put away the wine and grabbed his Warhammer. "Have you forgotten who I am?"

The captain had nothing to say against that. Arguing against the King was not a wise idea unless you were one of his closest advisers, after all.

Meanwhile, Aerion looked towards the royal navy as his silver hair waved with the strong winds.

You have only lost one battle, Robert, and that was to Randyll Tarly.

Allow me to grant you a second loss... a loss at the hands of a true dragon!