35

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186 AC

The Flatlands

Syryrio

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Days without food and being dragged behind this Khalasar have worn away and will I have left, I am a broken man. The women of the village were raped and the men beaten while the children were slowly left behind to die from exhaustion. There is no point in going on any further and I will at least get to decide when I die.

I stop walking and get bumped around a few times as other men and women turned slaves knock into me trying to keep up with the men who took possession of us. I can't tell if they are stronger than me for walking on or fools for heading to a life in chains. Am I more of a coward for giving up or if I keep walking for fear of the end?

The setting sun in the distance is the last I will see in this life and I enjoy it even when a whip cracks on my back. A fresh wound to bleed my life's blood down my back and legs to the dirt beneath my feet. A loud shout from the man who struck me grabs the attention of a few others but they quickly turn and keep walking in fear. Fear he will whip them too or just take their head off like he will take mine soon enough.

I was to wed soon and have children who would make my parents proud of me to see, but my father is dead now and can't be proud. My future Wife and Mother are somewhere out there in this crowd maybe even carrying one of these men's freshly spouted seeds in their belly. No pride to be had in that, I couldn't watch so I stepped away from them when I was still afraid of death from speaking out. It was better to not see and pretend it was not happening so I would not rage and get my head taken.

But now I am just finished, I can't walk anymore when my stomach is growling like a wild animal and my arms feel too weak to even swing around. My feet are bleeding and ache with each step and I think I broke a few toes. I would rather lay down for my final rest than take another step forward into this hell I have been forced into. I won't be put in chains to live like this the rest of my days, obeying others.

I hear shouting all around as another whip hits my back and I wonder who is speaking out for me, if they are even speaking out for me. For all I know they are being beaten as well but I can't tear my eyes away from the last sun I will ever see. The shouting grows and panic spreads as everyone starts to run around wildly.

I see horses rear up and toss their riders and slaves scatter as they scream 'fire' and 'death'.

A new sound finally takes my attention away from the sun and I turn to see a line of bright flames burning across the ground. The loud sound comes from a giant silver beast flying in the sky above the Khalasar spitting silver flames out of its mouth. Silver as the necklace I once saw a trader wearing that had been polished until it almost blinded to look at. The Beast closes its jaws and the fire stops and I watch it fly away only to turn around and come once more.

I watch it dive low and pass overhead once more spitting its flames on the men who ruined my life and everything I could have had. They scream as they burn and then there is nothing but ash left, a sight that fills me with more strength than any meal ever could.

Pass by pass the beast kills Dothraki as people try to avoid the flames and run around and I finally notice it is only going for the Dothraki. It is avoiding the back of the Khalasar where the slaves walk with a few armed men. I spot other slaves on their knees around me praying to their gods to survive this.

"It is not here for us." I speak up my voice dry and horse as an old man.

No one hears me as they scream and panic but the beast keeps burning the Dothraki who try to flee. Their long hair braided behind their head and covered in bells flying in the wind behind them, if any live they will have to cut them.

"The silver beast is not here for us!" I speak louder and feel my throat tighten from the strain but people hear me this time.

One by one people look around or rise from their knees and watch as we are avoided. Odd emotions fill their sunk-in faces as we watch the massacre happen, no different in my mind from what they did to my village. They burned our homes and anyone who resisted and now it is happening to them. It is as if my prayers have been answered and the wrath of a god is coming down to kill all the Dothraki.

"Dragon." One of the few children who has managed to hang on during this long walk speaks up with great effort on his part.

I blink as the smoke starts to burn my eyes and look again at the silver-winged terror as it follows the Dothraki around delivering its flames. I heard stories about dragons and the Freehold of Valyria and how they all died other than a few. The ones left in the great Free Cities were all butchered by men scared of them. The last of the dragons are somewhere in the Sunset kingdoms or at least they were until they also died according to stories from traders.

Is this really one of those beasts that were ridden by men to conquer and destroy? Its massive body is bigger than even my old home before it was burned and it has enough flames to keep the entire village warm for years. If this is a dragon I can finally understand how people rode them to conquer massive amounts of lands.

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186 AC

The Flatlands

Aerion Targaryen

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""Dive and aim for the front, burn through them, and block any path forward!"" Moonfyre rumbles as she flies high above the horde, her head lowers and her wings tuck in as she obeys.

I only needed a few minutes to come up with a strategy to ensure we burn the majority of them. They are riding in almost a straight line formation with a large group of people walking at the back. I am assuming those are the slaves that they drag around to do the menial work and also to eventually sell. I plan to cut off any path forward and then make a pass down the middle as best I can before they split off and flee.

The wind whips Elaena's hair around so I lean against her with my head over her shoulder to keep her hair from blinding me. I do not want to miss what I am going to do for even a moment, the least I can do is watch it happen.

And what is what I do as Moonfyre opens her wings and mouth, she glides over the top of them as bright moonlight-colored flames cut across the ground and burn anything they touch. It is over before I can even understand with her passing by them and I pull the reins for her to turn around.

""Go down the middle of the line and burn them all!"" I feel Elaena shiver and her hands tighten on the handles of the saddle hearing the words 'burn them all'.

The heat from her flames as she flies low and burns a large portion of the men easily reaches us on her back. Like standing in front of a forge or a massive funeral pyre the air is hard to breathe with the sheer temperature of it drying my throat.

""Turn and avoid the large group at the back! Circle around and avoid the large group in the back!"" I repeat myself to make sure Moonfyre is not lost in some burning trance, I want to at the least avoid these people.

Even if they don't agree to head the rest of the way to Pentos and jump on ships heading North, I don't want to burn them as well. I am paid to protect Pentos by ensuring the Dothraki break and scatter by burning the majority of them. I have already gotten a third of them with the second pass hitting them while still surprised.

They are running west toward the sea and also east back toward the mountains separating them from the river Rhoyne. But they almost seem to have it engraved into them to ride with one another and are grouping up like massive targets.

We circle around and pass over the group of people without horses and I pull the reins to head west toward the people fleeing toward the sea. I look down as we pass but it's hard to tell other than they have no horses leaving me to believe they are not Dothraki so I keep to my plan to leave them alone. They seem to be staying put either in fear or to stunned seeing the Dothraki get burned.

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186 AC

The Flatlands

Elaena Targaryen

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"Dracarys." Aerion orders Moonfyre as she swoops low and her mouth spits a stream of molten silver-colored flames.

The ground is cut open from the strength behind the stream of flames and people are incinerated as well as scattered as ashes. The air is full of ashes as I look around at the burning lands that look tormented by the dragon's flames. The Dothraki split into two groups after the first good pass over the top of them and Aerion is dealing with the second half.

The first half took two passes before most were gone or scattering in all directions and too annoying to ride down. Once this second group breaks and scatters he will be done and call it a job done, no one will head to Pentos after this. I do not know if the Khal even got burned but I will assume he was. The whole front of the horde was reduced to ashes and I would think a mighty Khal would ride at the head of his Khalasar.

I look to my right and see the side of Aerion's head as he leans his head over my shoulder, his body is tense each time the fires pour out of Moonfyre. His brows are near knit together with how scrunched they are and his jaw is shut tight. I am not sure how I feel about this now that it is done and can not be taken back, but I do know I am worried about him.

The words he commands Moonfyre with come out with an eerie calmness even when it sentences thousands of men to death by dragon fire. I let go of the handle with one handle and grip his forearm while resting my head against his head. His tense grip eases and his stiff body resting against mine follows soon after as he sets his chin on my shoulder. My cheek is pressed against his as we watch Moonfyre close her jaw and look around the burning flatlands.

""That's good for now, land by the large group of people you avoided but don't burn anyone. We are done here and will be heading back home soon."" Moonfyre trills hearing the word 'home' and turns to fly toward the massive group of people that were left untouched.

They are covered in ash and likely scared out of their wits but they are safer than they were so I expect they are happy. Aerion wants to invite them to Westeros and away from the Dothraki, leave it to him to come up with a way to get further profit. A workforce to add to the one he is growing in the North in the Gift.

But I guess we will see how these people feel about what has happened here and how they will respond to his offer. There are over a thousand but I can't get a good count just yet, they will pack the ships the Velaryons are bringing full and cause them to gather more food and water than they are expecting. But Aerion will see it work out somehow, I am confident in that much.

Looking around at the damage done I can only be thankful he is who he is, a lesser man would let this go to their head and think themselves a god. They would want the crown and all men beneath them if they could command this level of damage in less than half an hour. But Aerion is not that kind of man and I know it just from how he is reacting to what has been done. He was paid well and earned the fear of nearly everyone once the tales are sung and told but he did most of it to ensure no one will ever seek trouble with his family.

A reminder of who is in charge with our family having dragons, but I don't expect him to be doing this again anytime soon unless necessary. He would rather work on his plans in Westeros than fly around burning Essos for coin.