V.

It was the tenth year after the Conquest. The day that Jon and Aegon Targaryen fulfilled seven and thirty days of the name.

The Conqueror was heading to Dragonstone because his older sister and wife, Visenya, had summoned Aegon for something regarding a prophecy and a ritual that she claimed would help the family in the future.

Although the Dragon generally politely declined his Mandia's offers related to magic and prophecies, this time Aegon decided to accept. He had left the court and works of the Aegonsfort behind to go to Dragonstone and participate in Senya's ritual.

If Jon had learned something living within the soul of the Conqueror it was that he only left what

he had in hand if an even more urgent matter arose.

'And Aegon only had one matter of top priority; Rhaenys' dream.'

The driving force behind House Targaryen actions in the last twelve years Jon thought.

Perched on top of Balerion Jon could watch as the fledgling city that began to develop at the foot of the Aegonsfort became a smaller and smaller dot in the distance.

'Kings Landing.' the thought sprang into Jon's mind.

'The height of originality I would say. It is a pity that its appointment did not fall to me. I would have given it a much more glorious name and with more charisma...' Mentally replied the Dragon, with a tone of disapproval and disappointment.

'Aye...coming from the author of Aegon's Hill and the Aegonsfort... you could have come up with something like the Aegon's City or New Valyria of the West.' Jon replied humorously.

The deep sigh of the conqueror made Jon understand that he had touched the Dragon's pride so he preferred not to delve into the possible wound. So Jon turned his thoughts back to the day after his death when this madness of 'punishment from the gods, hell, another life?' began.

Jon couldn't tell and neither could Aegon what or why this was happening to them.

Twenty-two years had passed and they were no closer to finding an answer to that question. Twenty-two years since Jon's body without his control had driven a Valyrian steel dagger into Jon's chest, deep in the crypts of Winterfell. Twenty-two years with his soul and consciousness 'living?' whitin the Conqueror.

Jon in a way was Aegon Targaryen and he was living the life of the Dragon.

But at the same time Jon couldn't really control anything that happened around him, or intervene in

Aegon's thoughts or actions.

However, there were times when Jon felt as if he were the one who found himself thinking or doing it.

Aegon for his part accepted the whole thing it as if it were something ordinary and within the routine and it never occurred to Aegon to ask himself why the unlikely situation. Although on the other hand it never had occurred to the Dragon to talk about it with anyone and he only asked Jon not to know anything about the 'future, the present or the past?' Jon would not know how to answer that question even if his life, if he still had it, depended on it.

'Knowing that I will be remembered as the Conqueror has already influenced a lot in my future, I do not need to know more, Jon.' And thus the Dragon settled the Conqueror affair from day one. Since then, Jon had tried to not think remember or mention anything about the future of house Targaryen, nor of Aegon, nor of his sisters, nor nothing in Jon's life beyond the good memories with his family.

Jon didn't always succeed and when he accidentally slipped a thought or memory about something related to the future 'or was it the past?' It seemed as if the communication was cut off and Jon stopped feeling or thinking what Aegon, staying isolated in wherever the hells Jon was. Contemplating the life of the Conqueror from within. Feeling nothing but the terrible sensation of falling into an absolute void that never ceased. Those days were the worst in Jon's new life.

If Jon thought his situation in Winterfell was bad, not feeling anything, not being able to do, not being able to express and only being able to observe as the life passed before him, showed Jon that there were far worse things.

This made him often think that this was a punishment from the gods. Or so Jon wanted to think to try to find an explanation for his bizarre situation.

However thanks to Aegon's character in the end the Dragon ended up opening up to Jon, sharing his thoughts and feelings.

Jon was often amazed at the similarities in personality he had with the Last of Valyria, as Aegon liked to call himself.

The first thing Jon had to get acquainted with in Aegon's life was the, at first for Jon, gloomy castle-fortress of Dragonstone. When Jon first saw it, the army of grotesque stone gargoyles had disturbed him so much that Jon tried with all his might to prevent Aegon from entering the black castle.

When in there, Jon was soon struck by the absence of the famous painted table with all Westeros carved on it.

As time passed Jon got used to the gargoyles and the black castle, feeling practically the same as when he lived in Winterfell, at home.

'Or is it Aegon who sits at home and that's why I feel that way too?' Jon mused to himself, trying to make sense of his feelings.

Another thing that Jon quickly grew used to was Aegon's special bond with his dragon, Balerion. This one was more impressive than any description Jon had read when he was a child with Maester Luwin. They didn't do it justice.

Balerion was a being from a legendary dream. Capable of razing entire cities if disturbed. An incredible being that didn't answer to men or gods, fire made flesh, the Black Dread.

Balerion's scales, horns and wings were black as night, making him look like a shadow that crossed the skies, where only the spinal crest and eyes stood out from the darkness, with a red color like that of an incandescent forge. Eyes that when they landed on something denoted an intelligence greater than that of many human beings. Something which was not difficult to believe after interacting with him almost daily.

Balerion's fire was a deep red, almost black, and could melt any metal and raise the temperature of the sand on Dragonstone Beach until it becomes a glassy surface. Had jaws with teeth the size of a greatsword with which it could engulf a carriage. The Winged Shadow was about 120 meters wide from the tip of one wing to the other. And about 65 meters long from its head to the end of its tail when it was fully extended flying through the air.

The relationship between Aegon and the dragon was one of symbiosis between them. Based on mutual respect and affection, always respecting Balerion's freedom and will.

'One of the things that I will never tire of experiencing in this afterlife is the adrenaline rush of being on the Black Dread' Jon rejoiced to himself.

'Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.' the Dragon used to say to Jon when referring to his relationship with Balerion. The fact that Balerion allowed a saddle to be worn on its neck was a silent testimony to the mutual agreement between the Dragonrider and the dragon to which it was bound, more than

anything else. Allowing the dragon to put those chains on him was a way of showing that he was willing to give everything for the one had chosen to bond with. And these ties were for life. Of the

bounded person.

The dragons of Aegon's sisters were equally impressive on their own.

Visenya's Vhagar was small compared to Balerion, but still capable of swallowing a horse down its throat. Vhagar's scales, horns, wings, wing bones, and spinal crest, were a mixture of dark orange and spent yellowish. Its flame was dull orange and could melt the armor of any knight in the world.

Rhaenys' Meraxes was larger than Vhagar but smaller than Balerion. The Conqueror's little sister's dragon could swallow two horses whole, having purple eyes and silver scales with a bright flame that was almost white.

However what took Jon the longest to accept was the Dragon's relationship with his sisters. And that was something Jon had to adjust to quickly.

The wedding with Visenya and the subsequent bedding happened within a few moons of inhabiting within Aegon. And some moons later the same thing happened with Rhaenys.

At first Jon felt some revulsion at the kind of relationship between the three Targaryens, but knowing it from the inside changed Jon's mind.

With Visenya, Aegon married out of family duty to preserve the blood pure and because Senya really was a better family head than Aegon himself.

But he had married Rhaenys out of love in exchange for certain concessions and deference to Visenya in the day-to-day management and rule of the castle and the island of Dragonstone.

The relationship between the eldest and her valonqar was one of affection, trust and respect not without passion at times, but a relationship above all based on Duty . The Duty for the blood of the Forty and the Targaryen family.

Senya, as Aegon and Rhaenys referred to her, was the Mandia of the family. Something for which Senya always felt an obligation to protect the dynasty first and foremost. At times Jon saw in the Conqueror's older sister everything he hated so much about Lady Tully-Stark. But being on the other side of that overprotection and family ambition wasn't as unpleasant as when he was the target of its.

'It took poor Aegon five years to speak to Orys because Senya considered him a danger to his house first, then to Rhaenys and finally called him a profiteer upstart. And not even with the passing of the years Visenya's little-veiled distrust ceased.'

It was also thanks to the Conqueror's older sister that Jon was finally able to understand, at least partially, the fear that his figure could engender in Catelyn Tully. Every descendant of Valyrian blood in Dragonstone was regarded by Visenya as an insect to be eliminated or as a potential threat that could kill or steal their dragons, or even the castle. Or the threat Senya saw that day, in a concern that often bordered on paranoia.

'Weeds we have to cut, Egg.' Visenya once answered Aegon when he complained to his sister about the disappearance of some boys and girls whose parents could trace their ancestry back to the times of Aenar the Exile and Gaemon the Glorious.

One of the conditions that Visenya compromised in the marriage between him and Rhaenys was for these reasons.

Although Senya possessed the silver-gold hair and purple eyes of Valyria, hers was a harsh and austere beauty.

In Jon's opinion although it was possible to love her and empathize with her because of Senya's over protectiveness with family, it was impossible to be in love with her. Visenya was all duty, stern, cold, serious, and relentless; not to mention that both Aegon and Jon were convinced that she was some kind of reincarnation of a sorceress from Old Valyria.

Visenya although not as beautiful as Rhaenys, was a full-fledged Valyrian beauty. A little taller than Rhaenys, where the dragon's little sister was slender Senya was voluptuous. Being an impressive and unique woman in her own right without depending solely on her beauty. Which although present, was a less ethereal beauty and more rigid than that of Rhaenys.

Visenya was as good with a sword as Aegon himself, if not better. As comfortable in armor as wearing courtly clothes. Senya always carried Dark Sister in her waist. A Valyrian steel long sword with a hilt of dragon bone smaller than usual, designed for a woman's hand. The hilt finished in gold imitating the flame of a dragon and guard in gold with a red ruby on its crossguard smaller than that of a common long sword. The blade was of a dark smoky color, which according to the reflection of the light could give the impression of being the color of blood. And Aegon's sister- wife was adept at using it. She and Aegon having trained together since they were able to pick up a stick.

Rhaenys for her part, Aegon's haedar, was everything her older sister wasn't. Casual, playful, curious, impulsive and given to flights of fantasy. Without being a true warrior, Rhaenys played a fundamental role in the Westerosi Conquest. In turn, she was a lover of the arts and loved music, dance and poetry, financing many bards, traveling artists and puppeteers.

However Rhaenys spent more time on top of her dragon than Aegon and Visenya combined. And above all, Rhaenys loved the freedom of flying. The longing for the little sister of the Conqueror was to one day going into the unknown that had the West of the Sunset Sea mounted in Meraxes.

Turning his toughts to the present that day of his name, Jon and the Conqueror had left the quiet little Aenys under the care of the maids in the makeshift nursery near his quarters in the rudimentary Aegon's fort. Turning to Balerion to quickly cover the distance that separated him from the island nestled in Blackwater Bay.

Rhaenys wasn't present to take care of their son because she was developing a retaliatory campaign with which she tried to subjugate Dorne through the fire of her dragon.

Both Aegon and Jon preferred a thousand times the castle below the Dragonmont, which was ten times the size of the Aegonsfort. With much more comfort, security and which felt like home. Once the Dragon confessed Jon that he even loved the scent of the island, where the salty air always smelled of smoke and sulfur. It was for this reason that since the Conquest Aegon spent approximately half the year between his two seats, dividing his time between them. And with Balerion it was a journey of a few hours.

'Only an unconscious doesn't look back to see the result that his past actions have had. The rest of the world will not stop seeing what you have done, therefore you must be sure that what you have done is justifiable.' Aegon said many times, when he remembered all the actions that had led him to have the name by which he would be remembered for posterity.

As Aegon led Balerion towards Dragonstone Jon couldn't but help to think that today was the twenty-second day of the name since the night that he unwittingly thrust a Valyrian steel dagger into his chest in the crypts of Winterfell and woke up in the slope of the Dragonmont. From that

day on and for the days following that name day, Jon continued to dwell in a corner of the Conqueror's soul.

The Dragon was physically a little taller and broader in the shoulders than Jon, having during his youth the same shoulder-length hair as Jon had, but silver as the gleam of the moon. Similarly they both possessed similar facial features, but Aegon's face was less elongated than Jon's when he was alive. Aegon's eyes were black as two wells of ink crossed by raging silvery and purple streaks that stood out in the darkness of the iris. Color that was more pronounced in situations of stress or anger.

Most of the time he chose to wear a black shirt over which he wore a black doublet with scarlet veins in the center that reached the neck of the same, in imitation of the scales of a dragon. Aegon used to accompany it with black leather ride-breeches or baggy riding breeches and knee high black leather boots. Aside from the red streaks on the doublets and some scarlet accents on the chest or sides the only thing that always stood out was the blood-red embroidered three-headed dragon in the center of his black cloaks.

The only fanfare that he allowed himself to wear was when he wore his breast and back plate armor over chain mail, all made of Valyrian steel. The first one was the same color as Blackfyre's blade and was engraved with the sigil of House Targaryen. Possessing an amethyst a ruby and a sapphire as the eyes of the rampant tricephalous dragon. Beneath the armor and chainmail, he usually wore a surcoat of treated black leather. Like the tight black leather ride-breeches, resembled the scales of a dragon. Only the red flashes threaded on the neck of the black surcoat stood out.

He usually donned greaves, knee pads, and gauntlets of castle-forged steel, but as light as possible. For the same reasons, Aegon preferred to avoid wearing the helmet or other protection above the neck. And sometimes he even refused to use the gorget in order to free himself of weight to be faster in his movements.

Aegon's sword was the legendary Blackfyre. The Sword of Kings. A bastard sword whose blade was made of smoky-colored Valyrian steel which depending on the incidence of the light seemed to glow or be absolutely black. Making it even more impressive than Jon's father's sword, ICE. Blackfyre's hilt was made of black dragon bone with a huge blood-red square ruby topping it off and the valyrian steel guard made up of two dragon heads.

If Jon thought he knew how to use a sword before he died, by the gods he would swear that that thought was totally unfounded, seeing Aegon's mastery from a vantage point.

Though Aegon was infinitely more self-assured than Jon, Aegon was lonesome and brooding by nature like Jon. Preferring a stroll along the cliffs of Dragonstone, than mingle with people. Despite not being a bastard like Jon and being the rightful heir to his house name, Aegon was nothing like Robb or Theon. If he wanted he could be more charming than Robb when the lords of the north visited Winterfell. But Aegon only was charming if he got some benefit from being it, since Aegon usually preferred to be direct, dry and cutting. Possessing a special sense of humor that often oscillated between fine irony and black cynicism.

Aegon wasn't like any great lord Jon had ever known, though in a way his sense of duty reminded Jon of his father's. The men under Aegon's command despite the fact that he was tough and strict respected him for his ability to command and sacrifice himself, as well to carry out any action that he ordered them to do.

Aegon's generosity towards those loyal to him together with his close and respectful treatment with them caused those under Aegon to venerate him almost as a God, kissing wherever he stepped.

To the great discomfort and shame of the Dragon, that never felt comfortable being the focus of stares and whispers

TheDragon preferred to be in the shadows relating almost exclusively to his sisters, who, especially Visenya, were responsible for the daily decisions and rule in the Targaryen household. Aegon was only directly involved in government and rule affairs when the situation required from him. And whenever Aegon did intervene, he didn't leave anyone indifferent with his decisions or actions. Actions that arose based on a rational thought process, always avoiding falling into impulsiveness or emotions of the moment. And when Aegon did finally act he did so in forms and ways that Jon couldn't have agreed more with.

Aegon had no vices beyond a small obsession with improving and honing his skill with the sword and that often served as an outlet for his tensions.

Until bedding with Visenya, Aegon remained a virgin, avoiding visiting the brothels that from time to time the only friend Jon knew of Aegon visited. This friend was Orys Baratheon, the son of Aerion Targaryen and a fishmonger from the town of Dragonstone. A bastard, like Jon.

'And Orys is a friend of mine because he is family, he has been with me all his life, he has never judged me and he has not ever failed me. But I would doubt that I could have any other friends. It is not easy to deal with a Dragon, Jon.' Aegon answered Jon every time he asked him why Aegon was always seeking solitude. And Jon could only agree with him. It wasn't easy to deal with the Dragon because not even Jon being inside him was able to fully understand Aegon.

The Conqueror was a very complex character with many layers and people rarely saw the true interior. Something that only Jon from the inside and Aegon's sisters from the outside, were able to see sometimes.

Aegon's wishes dreams and fears. And above all, Aegon's feeling that destiny and fate rested over his shoulders.

The conversations between them served to better understand Aegon, who was practically obsessed with restoring the glory of Valyria and bringing peace to Essos. Something that Aegon justified before Jon adducing that it was their destiny since he was the Last Scion Of Valyria.

Aegon had in his mind that he had to be the one to rebuild the Freehold of Valyria, uniting Essos again under the aegis of order. The indiscriminate violence that was taking place due to the power vacuum caused after the Doom of Valyria had turned the eastern side of the Narrow Sea into utter chaos that stretched for almost a hundred years now. Chaos for which in a way, even though Jon was unable to understand why, Aegon felt directly responsible.

Through the eyes of the Dragon, Jon saw and in a certain way experienced, to what extent the commitment of Aegon reached for said Valyrian reestablishment in the wars where they took part in Essos.

During the Essosi campaigns both Jon and Aegon learned that war was nothing like songs and stories. Smells and sounds were capable of numbing the senses, especially when Aegon turned to the Black Dread if the situation demanded it. Jon saw from within the Conqueror's the battles between the Three Whores against Volantis and in the Disputed Lands. He saw Aegon's mastery of the sword and with what sinister art he was capable of taking on anyone with Blackfyre, which pierced through armor, bone, sinew and flesh, like a hot knife on butter.

Being a direct witness to Aegon's thought processes and how they shaped his way of thinking and actions, Jon could understand that Aegon lived for and by a vision of the world, to the point that

Jon himself ended up internalizing it to himself.

'Do what you want, but be prepared if your enterprise fails, to be ruled by others, instead of to rule over others.'

'Soft kingdoms breed soft men and good lands. Because it is not possible for the same land to bear wonderful fruits as men who are good at war.'

'Be self-sufficient. Never put yourself in a situation of dependency in front of anyone. Thus you will always have your hand over your allies and they will be the ones who depend on you. Give everything they need to the people of your allies and their people will follow you to the ends of the earth, being yours and not from your allies.'

'Be generous. Success should always require showing the utmost kindness and fairness. Only people lost in the dark treat it as an occasion for greater greed. Collecting the treasures of an enemy is not an end in itself but only a means to build. Wealth is of little use except as a means of winning friends of dubious loyalty.'

Friends as the Dragon demonstrated with his actions, thought that could only exist in political terms. Since Aegon would never trust someone who was not his family, or whom had shown with their actions that could be consider theirselves as such.

'Be brief. Being direct and brief is the lifeblood of leadership. Talking too much suggests desperation on the part of the leader. Speak briefly, decisively and precisely, and express what you mean in such a natural logic that no one can raise objections. Then be the engine of what you order.'

If something characterized the Dragon was that he would not ask anyone under his command for anything that he was not capable of doing. No matter how big or small the task or problem, Aegon was always the first to try to help or lead by example.

'In my experience, men who respond to good fortune with modesty and kindness are more difficult to find than those who face adversity with courage.' Aegon always warned when judging people.

'Whenever you can, act as a liberator. Freedom, dignity, wealth: these three together constitute the greatest happiness of humanity. If you are able to bestow all three on those who follow you, their love for you will never die.'

However Aegon did not hesitate to be hard and ruthless if the situation called for it.

'You should always be in control of the situation, you can and should accept advice, but do not let yourself be moved by other opinions when you have made a final decision. Do not let your final opinion be put in the spotlight in public, without this entailing its punishment. When you punish traitors and disloyal people, be tough and inflexible. There will be times when you can be magnanimous, but if this is the norm, people will not respect you and chaos will ensue. In the long run, the truth is that discipline always brings rewards.'

'By your blood you are privileged compared to the rest of the world, never forget who you are. The others will not. Wear it as your armor. Do not be a person who mistreats the common people or be rude with them. There is no kindness between man and man more natural than sharing food and drink.'

'I wish all the nobles of Westeros were like him.' Jon thought bitterly when Aegon brought up the subject of Jon's social status. He was a Bastard and sometimes he wanted to tell Aegon that he

didn't need to know these things, but Aegon always answered him in the same way,

'No matter how badly they treat you, you must be courteous and kind to everyone. From the lowest of the fishermen, to the greatest of the lords, you must treat them with the same respect that you want for yourself. Although it may seem hard to believe, there is a deep, and often frustrated, desire in everyone's heart to act kindly rather than selfishly, and a good example of generosity can inspire dozens more. And it can even lead to greatness. And sometimes, the greatest of greatness can be hidden in the shadows, never underestimate anyone and judge only through the actions you see.'

And by those rules Aegon's life was governed and therefore Jon's life, who soon adopted as his own the thoughts of the incredible person in which Jon was.

'What other remedy do I have anyway?' Jon mused sadly.

'If I have to live in the body of someone whose life I really can't intervene in, at least I'm in the body of someone I would have liked to look like even in dreams,' thought of Jon that filled Aegon with pride and gratitude.

Along with living inside the Dragon and everything that surrounded him, Jon had to get used to being an exceptional witness to the daily and everyday life of Aegon. The which, removed the tireless training in the Dragonstone courtyard, was on the antipodes of Jon's normal life until he died and reached the body of the Conqueror.

That's why when Jon looked back, many times Jon returned to the moment when Aegon Targaryen decided to conquer the Seven Kingdoms.

Year 2 BC Dragonstone, Blackwater Bay

When Aegon and Senya returned from the essosi wars, Aegon turned his eyes completely to the east and began to sketch in his mind how he could claim the former Freehold without resorting to the slavery that repulsed the both of them, or magic sadly lost for Aegon.

The Dragon's interest in the ever-disputed Kingdoms of Westeros was close to nil, save for a couple of visits to the Citadel to obtain books of magic and legend for Visenya, books of history for him and paintings for Rhaenys in Oldtown. Also a visit to the Arbor to practice falconry invited by Lord Redwyne and then headed throught the Mouth of the Mander and the Sunseat Sea by ship with Rhaenys their two dragons to Lannisport where the Lannisters gave them a cold reception.

That and the occasional friendly houses visits from the mouth of the Blackwater, was all Aegon Targaryen's interest in the west from the day of his fifth and tenth name day onwards.

Until a cold spring night in Dragonstone changed the Dragon's priorities.

In the middle of the night Rhaenys woke up and came screaming and feverish out of Aegon's arms. The color had left Rhae and she was shivering drenched in cold sweat, huddled in a corner of the room that served as their bedroom.

Aegon's haedar was crying in a heartbroken way. Meraxes roared frantically in the distance and Rhaenys's lost gaze was one of utter panic. She was so scared that neither Aegon first nor then Visenya who had come after the screams, knew how to calm her down.

Seldom had Jon felt so helpless inside Aegon's body as he did in that moment. Despite not being the one who acted or spoke Jon was able to empathize with Aegon and his feelings, developing great affection and a deep infatuation for the youngest Targaryen. And it hurt Jon not being able to do anything for her. His soul was compressed for the anguish of being unable to do anything to

soothe Rhaenys.

"Ice creatures with sky blue eyes staring at me as a snowstorm engulfed me ..." Rhaenys began to speak in a low trembling and almost lifeless tone.

"What are you talking about Rhaenys?" Visenya asked, crouching down until she was in her sister's line of sight looking somewhat concerned.

Although with Senya it was sometimes difficult to distinguish between when she was upset or worried. At times it seemed that Aegon's older sister had her face sculpted in white marble unable to offer any external display save for the warmth transmitted by her completely purple eyes and small gestures with her brows, almost imperceptible to those who did not know her.

"The dream ... it was so real ... I could feel the cold ... the cold wind that pierced my skin like blades." the Dragon's little sister continued between sobs but regaining a certain calm and tranquility in her tone.

"Between me and the ice monsters there was only a hidden dragon between the snow and shadows... he tried to save me, but in the end, the pale and ethereal ice monsters pierced his chest with theirs translucent swords. Then one of the beings looked at me and let out a moan that sounded like laughter that percussed in my ears... and... then it killed me..." Rhaenys cried uncontrollably again, again curling up against the corner of the wall and the floor. Scared even of the shadows.

Aegon leaned down to hug Rhaenys's shrunken body while Visenya now had a genuinely worried face. For his part, Jon couldn't help but think that what Rhaenys had dreamed of was The Long Night. The story the Old Nan told Jon and his siblings to scare them as children.

Apparently Jon wasn't the only one who thought about it. Before Aegon or Jon could realize it Visenya shoved him aside and grabbed Rhaenys by the chin, staring at her but with a certain sweetness rarely seen in the older Targaryen.

"Are you saying that you have dreamed of the legend of the Darkness brought by the Others and that of the story of Azor Ahai in Essos? What else did you see, what do you remember, any geographical reference? Something to indicate when or how?" Visenya asked with some warmth but in a voice that carried more and more alarm.

Senya's gaze began to oscillate between Rhaenys and him, to see if Aegon understood what was happening.

Aegon between what he knew of Essos and the story of Old Nan that Jon had told him long time ago, had put the pieces together and imagined what Senya was referring to, so he nodded, reassuring Rhaenys with a warm and sweet look to whatever her reply was.

"I think so... I only saw snow and the ice monsters, and a wall. A huge wall of ice." said Rhaenys as she wiped the tears from her face with the back of her left hand.

Visenya quickly rose from the crouching position and suddenly left Aegon's stances.

The Dragon sat on the ground next to his sister leaning his back against the wall. Something to which Rhaenys responded by dropping herself into Aegon's lap where then she fell asleep again while Aegon stroked her hair.

When Visenya returned it must have been the hour of the nightingale for it was dawning and Aegon's whole body ached from falling asleep against the wall with his sister-wife on his lap. And

Jon could feel the muscle ache from the bad position as if it had been his body that had done it. While he stretched his sore muscles, trying not to wake the love of his life, his older sister

appeared just as suddenly as she had left at the Hour of the eel.

"Aegon, with the books we borrowed from the Citadel the Chronicles of Valyria that we have, along some books from Asshai and Yi-TI, I can assure you that our sister has given us an exact picture of all the descriptions mentioned about the legend of the Long Night and The Darkness... I don't know if it will be in our time but we have to be prepared. We need to be prepared. Daenys the dreamer dreamed of the Doom and thanks to her we are alive. I know what I would do Valonqar[1], but you are the head of the family. You're going to have to give up your dream of Valyria ... The War against DarknessiIt will be here in the West. And dragons are fire, light. They must be there to defeat it." Said a Senya who seemed to have not slept at all all night, with small bags under her eyes and her hair completely disheveled. She was still in her nightgown with which she had entered Aegon's rooms after Rhaenys screams in her nightmare.

"And what do you propose to me Senya? That I kindly ask the Seven Kings and thousands of Lords from Westeros to join me in a crusade against an enemy that, if it existed, did so more than eight thousand years ago? You Visenya, know better than anyone that our duty and destiny as the lasts of Valyria is to preserve the blood pure, take care of the dragons and reclaim the Freehold. Not only for the dream of Daenys we came here and so you know, Mandia." Aegon said with great sarcasm reproachfully and raising his voice over the account, since a yawning Rhaenys was waking from her slumber in the lap of the Dragon.

"Do you still believe the lies that the Old Volantine Blood told you? That did we escape because powerful houses wanted to kill us? That did we escape from Valyria just two years before the Doom because Aenar the Exiled and Gaemon the Glorious simply chose to flee rather than stand up to their enemies? Is that what you think of our family? That we're cowards who run away when the situation gets ugly?"

Each of Senya's words were in a higher tone than the last until she almost finished screaming. Visenya's reply was dripping with acidity and hatred for the way she claimed some people wanted to misrepresent the true motivations of the Targaryen exile.

Aegon never had a definite idea on the subject. His rational part told him that a political dispute was more likely than a prophetic dream, but ... he rode and was bonded to a massive dragon that was capable of covering entire cities with his shadow.

Jon for his part, was living what he was living, or not. Because Jon couldn't tell if he was alive or not, so he wouldn't be surprised by either Daenys's prophetic dream, or the possible political causes in the Targaryen exile, let alone a new Long Night .

'Maybe it was both things that drove the family into the exile and both your sister and you are right? Living what we're both experiencing, magic cannot be ruled out, nor that Rhaenys could just have had a prophetic dream like Daenys's ...'

Jon tried to contribute with his opinion to the issue, because after all, he had also been fighting against Volantis in the Free Cities and had heard the same rumors that were running about the true reason for House Targaryen's exile. All of them propagated in their day, according to the Old Blood of Volantis, by Aurion. And brought out again by the Old Volantine Blood when Aegon carried out his campaigns against the first daughter ofValyria.

Apparently when the great lord of Valyria planned to march on the smoking remains of Valyria, Aurion came into contact with Aegon's ancestor Gaemon the Glorious. At the meeting held by the

last Dragonlords of that time, Gaemon Targaryen politely declined the invitation to participate in Aurion's expedition. Something which the later took as a personal confrontation and against the Valyrian blood cursing the Targaryens and promising to make rain fire upon Gaemon and all his offspring when the Valyrian reestablishment was complete.

'Thank you Jon. Now I know what I have to do to protect our family.'Aegon told him internally. After ten years still continued to baffle Jon that Aegon included him as part of house Targaryen.

Rhaenys began to stretch and being fully awake rising from her position on Aegon's lap and began to pace restlessly from one side of the solar to the other.

Aegon still seated, but with his body tense and straight against the wall, looked questioningly at his older sister.

"What do you suggest we do mandia [2]?" ordered rather than asked Aegon to his voluptuous and sensual older sister. The absence of sleep had not taken away one iota of Senya's beauty, which was enhanced by the semitransparent nightgown. Although the restless night perhaps it had increased the severity of Senya's face.

"May we teach these Kings and Lords of Westeros the meaning of the blood and fire of Valyria, uniting them under the Targaryen Dragon. Between the three of us with our dragons we could raze the entire continent without the need of armies. Before we get to that point they will be on their knees hailing you as their king." Visenya said convincingly as if it were a mundane task to undertake.

"What do you think hāedar [3]?" Aegon asked while directing his gaze to his little sister, even knowing that Rhaenys would always support him in everything he proposed, except practicing with the sword

'That's Senya's thing.' Rhaenys always replied to Aegon every time he tried to coax her into learning. But in this case it was she who had had the dream, she was the best of the three, or four if Jon included himself, that knew what the possible threat was.

'What Aegon would have given to have a sister like Arya'. He regretted as he thought about it for comparing the relationship that the Dragon and his little sister had, with that of Jon and his. He loved Arya, but he didn't think he could ever love her on the same plane that he loved Rhaenys. Although of course Rhae was neither family nor really knew of Jon's existence. But even so, Jon loved her with all that was left of his soul and conscience. Rhaenys represented the extraordinary beauty of Valyria and the Dragonlords and was the love and light of the Conqueror's life. No one understood him like she did. And no one like her could make him smile and pull him out of his melancholy and typically reserved character.

"I am convinced that it was not just a dream. You cannot dream of something you have no idea about. I have lots of imagination, but I don't see myself capable of dreaming about something so terrible nor that that dream feels so real. I'm with Senya on this Egg, the surest way to prevent my dream from happening is to unify the continent under a single command and prepare it against the possible storm if it ever happens. And our descendants must know the motivations and the why of the conquest, so that they never forget the true reason behind our actions." Rhaenys replied biting her lower lip as she walked from one side of the stays to the other, arms crossed and her eyes thoughtful.

'Two votes in favor. Jon is your turn. Judge based on what I know, not on what you know and be honest with your opinion.' Aegon asked Jon internally, while he pondered what to answer to his

expectant sisters.

'Personally if you had asked me ten years ago ... I would have thought that the Long Night and the Others was a story to scare children who misbehaved ... after these ten years living, or whatever the gods want it to be, within you, I can't rule out of the possibilities the coming of a new Long Night... And you've already heard Rhae... she can't imagine those feelings. It has to be a warning. Although I can do nothing, you have my full support and my humble advice. Besides, I'm sure it's going to be fine.' Jon answered safely and almost as an oath to the person who was hosting him in some corner of the soul, while Jon tried to avoid any memory of his previous life relative to what he knew he was witnessing in that moment.

"If I count on your support and trust to carry out the plan that we devise between the three of us to make what we are talking about real, I accept. But always if it is something joint between the three. You can use my shadow to avoid being judged by the social and mental conventions of the westerosi nobility, but when there are battles, which there will be, I want you on the battlefield. And that goes especially for you Rhae." Said Aegon getting up from the ground, standing up to his full height as he stared at his two sisters who were giving him their full attention.

"Aegon, I will always be there for our family. You know it better than anyone." Visenya replied almost offended, showing with her bodily gestures the disgust she felt towards her little brother in that moment because Aegon doubted her compromise to enter battle.

Aegon should have know better than he. Because even to Jon it was clear that Visenya would go to the very halls of Hells to ensure the protection of houseTargaryen.

Now both Aegon and his older sister were looking at their younger sister, waiting for an answer from her. After a few seconds of hesitation, thinking about how to articulate what she wanted to say, Rhaenys began to speak in a resigned manner;

"Although you know of my revulsion towards violence as I refuse to learn how to fight or wield a sword... I will be by your side in the battles with Meraxes. And with my charm and political ability I will win the lords and small folk alike for us. Because, if the three of us have to agree on something, it is that the diplomat of the family is me." Rhae finished her little speech with a smile and playful tone much to the annoyance of her sister and older brother, who frowned at her at the same time.

For his part Jon couldn't agree more with the last thing Rhaenys had said. Neither Aegon nor Visenya knew the meaning of political tact.

The next day Aegon summoned the best carpenters gold could afford and ordered them to build a massive table for his solar that would represent the entire continent of Westeros. For almost two years, all the energies of the Targaryen trio were devoted entirely to planning how to unify Westeros while waiting for the precise moment when the delicate balance in which the different kingdoms of Westeros found themselves would blow up.

And this moment came when Harren the Black sought to extend his dominions beyond the Riverlands.

No king in Westeros was more feared than Harren Hoare, the Black, whose cruelty had become legendary throughout the Seven Kingdoms. And no king in Westeros felt more threatened by Harren than Argilac the Arrogant, the King of Storms and the last male of the Durrandons. An ancient warrior whose sole heir was his unmarried daughter.

It was because of the threat from the Ironborn that King Argilac approached the Targaryens from

Dragonstone, offering his daughter to Aegon in marriage, with all the lands east of God's Eye from the Trident to the Blackwater Rush as a dowry. Without intending it, Arguilac gave the foot that Aegon and his sisters needed to put their plans into motion.

The Dragon rejected the King of Storms' proposal, claiming that he already had two wives and had no need for one more. Not to mention that the lands offered as dowry had been in the possession Hoare's household for more than a generation. They were not from Argilac to give. Clearly, the ancient King of Storms intended to establish the Targaryens along the Blackwater as a buffer between his own lands and those of Harren the Black.

And Aegon was unwilling to enter a war for extraneous motives and in conditions unfavorable to his cause.

As a conflict with the continental kings began to loom on the horizon, Aegon responded with an offer of his own. One offer that would provide him with a stable base from which to develop Aegon's further plans. Aegon would take the dowry lands offered if Argilac also gave up Massey's Hook and the woods and plains from Blackwater south to the Wendwater river and the headwaters of the Mander. In addition, the pact would be sealed by the marriage of Argilac's daughter with Orys Baratheon. All of this foreseeing that it would be rejected, giving Aegon the reasons to start a military campaign on the continent.

As Aegon had anticipated, Argilac the Arrogant rejected the terms angrily. Orys Baratheon was a bastard and the Storm's King would not disgrace his daughter by shaking hands with a bastard. The very suggestion infuriated Argilac so much that he cut off Aegon's envoy's hands, returning them in a box with the following note.

"These are the only hands your bastard will have on my blood." Argilac wrote in response.

Aegon didn't reply, expecting a rejection. Instead he summoned all his loyal followers, bannermen

and main allies to Dragonstone.

It wasn't a great army, nor could they be individually compared to those of the great Westerosi noble houses. But they were loyal and in some cases, even family to House Targaryen. The Velaryon from Driftmark whose lord was Aegon's maternal uncle, Daemon Velaryon, or like the Celtigars from Claw Isle, were the first to respond Aegon's call. Which was not at all surprising considering the blood ties to both houses, also descendants of Old Valyria.

Lord Bar Emmon of Sharp Point and Lord Massey from Stonedance, both sworn to the King of Storm's End, but with closer ties to the Targaryen family, also answered Aegon's call.

Aegon, along with his sisters met with them to demand oaths of eternal loyalty, without even informing what was the true reason behind the gathering from those faithful to house Targaryen.

After this, the three Targaryens locked themselves in Dragonstone's Sept to do the mummery of praying to the Seven in search of guidance. In reality it was seven days and six nights were Aegon and his two sisters dedicated themselves to enjoying life as if it was going to end the next day. The plan, obviously, was Rhaenys's idea. It was a way to win over the majority faith of Westeros, as well as a way to unleash all the passions and emotions that they harbored between them. Once they left the Sept Aegon, as well as Jon, were acutely aware of how fleeting life could be in wartime. And there was no better way to go to war than to remember why you fight. For his family. For the home that Aegon made up with his two sisters. And for life.

On the seventh day, a cloud of crows erupted from Dragonstone's ravenry carrying Aegon's word to the all of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. To the seven kings flew, to Oldtown's Citadel, to the

great and small lords. They all carried the same message written by Visenya;

"From this day forward there is only one king in Westeros. Those who bend the knee to Aegon of House Targaryen will retain their lands and titles. Those who take up arms against him would be brought down, humiliated, and destroyed.

Signed,

Aegon of House Targaryen, First of His Name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men. Shield of his People, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, King of all Westeros and Protector of the Realm."

Thirteenth day of the fifth moon of the 10 AC. Dragonstone, Blackwater Bay, Westeros.

When Jon returned his toughts to the present after immersing himself in the memories of his experiences within Aegon, Dragonstone began to loom on the horizon amid the ever-present mist and smoke atop the Dragonmont.

As they approached the castle, Aegon spotted Vhagar in his cave near the north-facing beaches. Hence his sister must have been waiting for Aegon there, so he didn't even bother to land at the fortress, guiding Balerion on a gentle descent to the wet black sand of Dragonstone.

As the Conqueror's dragon perched on the sand beach, the ground trembled under the weight of the gigantic creature after which the dragon lowered its neck to allow him to descend.

At the far end of the shoreline he could see that there was no one there except for his sister-wife who was standing next to the cave that Senya's dragon used for shelter.

Aegon headed that way, giving to Jon a feeling that he didn't quite understand, but that he didn't like at all. If Jon were still alive and on his body, all the hair on his body would stand on end from the bad feeling he began to feel as he stepped on the dark sands of Dragonstone on the day of his seventh and thirtieth name day.

Noticing that her brother was approaching Visenya seemed to snap out of the trance in that she was, staring right into Vhagar's cave, to then turning quickly heading to meet him. After giving a kiss without much interest for part of both, the older sister of the Conqueror greeted him.

"I was not sure if you would come, Valonqar. You generally decline my invitations to reclaim our old Valyrian traditions." Senya said in a tone with more regret than reproach. Her gaze reflected incomprehension and Senya's demeanor was downcast.

"Senya you know that I have no interest in the dark arts or blood magic. If you told me that you think you have found the secret of forging Valyrian steel, or how to mold stone with arcane arts, or a way to ensure the safety of our family in a certain way, I would accompany you without hesitation. I have come because you have said that you have found a way to defeat the Darkness that Rhae saw in her dream. Dream according to you and her, prophetic. If you remember correctly that was only reason to start a war that cost the lives of thousands of people and has constrained my life. Life for which safety, according to you, I must fear. Therefore understand that I do not leave the government of six kingdoms and a war against a seventh, to come to contemplate flames and hope to see What? Glimpses of a supposed future? Prophecies shrouded in enigmas? To hear you tell me that The night is dark and full of terrors?" Aegon replied defensively with some exasperation, trying to justify that the growing estrangement between them was not due to a lack of affection towards her, or for her to trying to recover the old Valyrian traditions. But because of the dark path Senya was taking.

Aegon's eyes searched for his once loving sister, but now he only saw a person consumed by the future of the Targaryen dynasty and by a legendary foe.

"Valonqar, if you had agreed to any of those things, you would understand that I am not paranoid nor am I going mad. I have seen in the flames the monsters of ice and blue eyes as the sky that Rhaenys spoke of. I've seen a red comet ripping through the dark sky and then Dragonstone's towers by the sea crumbling as a dark tide washed over them, rising from the depths of the earth. Shadows in the shape of skulls, skulls that became mist, then bodies locked in grief, twisting, turning and breathing again. Through a column of fire a great winged shadows swirled across a harsh dark sky." Senya told him defiantly. Almost like explaining to a child, with a sure and cold gaze that at first it wasn't there.

Neither Aegon nor Jon seemed to understand very well what Visenya had meant, so the Dragon shrugged and tried to take another approach to the matter.

He looked tenderly at his sister, but with confusion.

"Mandia I honestly don't quite understand what you're saying. I don't deny that you see what you claim to see, nor do I deny the veracity of Rhaenys's dream. But you are never able to explain to me when or how this enemy will come. It is very difficult to fight an enemy that you don't know nothing about it, nor can you know when it will appear and for which there is no evidence beyond stories written by the Andals after the invasion, enigmatic prophecies from Essos, Asshai or Yi-Ti. And what you just told me leaves me just as confused or more confused than before I heard it..."

Before Aegon could finish what was about to say, Visenya interrupted him.

"What I mean is that I have found a way to ensure that our family is capable of dealing with the

threat. We just have to perform a ritual in this cave. And by the way, I am glad that you came with your armor as I asked you."

Without further ado, the Conqueror's older sister took him by the hand and began to direct Aegon towards the cave from which Vhagar was now emerging, leaving to be seen what was covering his voluminous figure.

In the cave there were three stake of cut wood, with a dragon egg and a ruby at the base of each one. Above them, tied to a stake were three adolescents of clear Valyrian descent, according to the color of their hair.

From within the Conqueror's body, Jon could more than once see Visenya performing blood magic after fighting during the conquest. Casting strange old valyrian incantations using blood, her sword Dark Sister and her dragon's fire.

When Jon reflected on what he had learned as Aegon Targaryen that did not appear in Maester Luwin's lessons, or in the citadel books, he generally veered around general ignorance of House Targaryen.

'Fire & Blood it is not only the motto of house Targaryen. It is the epitome of Valyrian magic. Fire & Blood to give life. Fire & Blood to deliver death. Fire & Blood to build. Fire & Blood to destroy. I don't even want to imagine what kind of magic caused the Doom to be triggered. How much blood was spilled to facilitate the spell that eradicated the greatest civilization ever known in one day?' Jon's soul trembled as he thought of the fate of the old blood before him.

Rumors and stories that Visenya Targaryen was an insider in black magic were not only rumors. Visenya spent her days in Dragonstone reading volumes of books from Old Valyria, drinking Shade of the Evening brought directly from the Warlocks of Qarth. Every so often Shadowbinders of Asshai visited her and in Dragonstone, whenever Visenya was there, there was a priestess of the R'hllor cult. The visit to Oldtown was for the simple fact that the Citadel was located in there and had books on magic, which Senya accessed and borrowed.

"Aegon, you must trust me. Although it seems brutal and forbidden, it is necessary. By doing this, we will ensure the salvation not only of our family, but of all world." pronounced Visenya almost imploringly, anticipating in advance the negative reaction of the Dragon at was was propossed to him, rested her left hand on his arm and give him a pleading look.

An image Jon had never seen in the Conqueror's older sister.

"We are not talking about something brutal or forbidden. We're talking about coldly murdering innocent people and about to do blood and fire magic. You know the rumors about what happened the last time the world saw spells of this kind performed on one of the flames in the world ..." tried to argue Aegon.

"That is why these three come from uncle's Daemon dungeons in Driftmark. They are accused of raping between the three a girl of just eleven days of the name. What we are going to do is compassion. These human wastes will serve a greater good than they could ever do in infinite lives ... Besides, they will not die burned. I am not a sadist. On the other hand, even if you flatter me, I would never have the power to chaneling magic with the power like what was done in our ancestral land."

Senya said cutting him off as she separated from Aegon's body, heading towards the pyres. Although Senya had her sword at the waist as usual, she headed against one of the cave walls to

deposit it against it. Then she bent down and from the floor picked up a cloth that was wrapped around an object.

When Senya got up again she directed a look full of complicity and knowledge towards Aegon. Look wich he did not quite understand.

But when Visenya began unwrapping the cloth, Jon could have sworn that he had died again. From the cloth appeared a dagger of rippled Valyrian steel, with a black dragon bone hilt topped in a gold flame.

'The same dagger that was on my Aunt Lyanna's grave. The dagger that pierced my heart.' thought with a mixture of wonder and fear Jon.

He was getting worse and worse feelings about the reasons behind Aegon's trip to Dragonstone. Few times Jon had such an extreme need to get out of the limbo in which he was, as Jon was beginning to have now.

'Harrenhal sure was another moment that you surely wanted to run away. I would have wanted in your place, Jon.' the Conqueror replied sympathetically.

Reflecting on what Jon's soul carrier was saying, Jon soon had to agree with Aegon. It was a necessary action and if Jon had had any control over Aegon's actions, he would have acted in the same way. But Gods!! The screams and the smell! They would haunt him for his entire life or whatever state Jon was in. And for Aegon's life as well.

'Sometimes leading involves making difficult and controversial decisions. Regardless of the cost, if this action is for the future good and ensures your safety and that of those loyal to you, do it. Do it as hard and as effectively as possible, and don't look back. Leading is that each of those you are leading has their own vision on the issue. From the greatest of the Lords to the most uneducated peasant, everyone will have an opinion. If you start questioning every decision you make based on the opinions of others, your opinion will never have value, and therefore no one will follow you.'

Aegon lectured Jon, trying to explain to him how the Dragon was able to cope with having been the executor of the most terrifying and macabre scene that Jon had seen in his fifth and ten and twenty and two years of lives. Or of life and limbo.

However the certain calm that Jon had managed to achieve speaking with Aegon, disappeared with the chants that Visenya began to recite as she went towards the three men gagged on the stakes. By the time she reached their height, Senya accurately drive the dagger into each one's heart.

"Skori se velkrys ropagon goes se zaldrīzes, iā arlie dārys kessa glaesagon isse se sȳndor, naejot morghūljagon se sīmonagon. Kessa se perzyssy hen Valyria, se jaqiarzir hen dāez ōregon se daorys kessa iōragon gō zirȳla, skoro syt kessa maghagon se ōños [4] "

Following this, Senya began to shake the blood from the dagger that Jon knew so well over the dragon eggs and rubies at the base of each of the three great pyres.

"Now you only must enter the pyre and made it lit by the flames of Balerion, after cutting your palm with Blackfyre."

The conqueror's olde-wifer sister said to him, with a tone that left no doubt that it was an order, rather than a suggestion.

Aegon at first seemed to disagree at all, much to Jon's relief who shared his apprehension towards blood magic.

"Visenya, are you crazy?! How am I going to save the kingdoms from whatever Rhae dreamed of, if I am burned to death in Dragonstone caves?" Aegon replied with some indignation and little patience.

To chill of Jon's soul, Aegon had no problem with the human sacrifice his older sister had just made. Or the Dragon didn't want to get into the eternal discussion with his sister about the Valyrian blood bastards that roamed Westeros.

'Surely that's it. But at least Aegon's not going to force me to participate in this dammed ritual from the hells.' Jon thought with some relief.

"Aegon your dragon's flames will not harm you...It's fire linked to your blood, as is all the Fire & Blood magic we use....and the armor probably will endure throught it, I believe. You just have to make a small cut in your hand, stand between the three pyres and order Balerion to light the flames that will bring a new dawn. No more, no less. The hair that burns ... it will grow back. And well, if you end up naked it may have some use after the ritual." Senya finished with a suggestive smile at the latter and with a tone and look that denoted that Aegon had nothing to worry about

To Jon's disbelief and awe Aegon seemed to resolve that he had nothing to lose in any case, and ended up conforming to his sister's wishes.

'Sorry Jon. I can't even imagine what it must be like to be in your place right now, but please trust me and Senya. You know she would never do anything against me or the family.'

And so Aegon, as he had done sometimes before, severed all connection to Jon while drawing Blackfyre. Placing himself in the position in front of the three bodies tied to the stakes, Aegon then proceeded to cut off his left hand while Visenya began to chant words that took Jon back twenty- two years in time.

"Skori se mele qēlos ānogar se sȳndror derēbagon, Kivio Dārilaros,

se tresy hen suvion, se tresy hen perzys, se zaldrīzes sigligon, se dārys isse se sȳndor kessa sagon sigligon arlī rȳ suvion se perzys,

rȳ ōrbar se lopor, naejot sikagon se zaldrīzoti hen dōron,

se zirȳ kessa maghagon se ñāqes [5]"

Jon began to panic as heard the same last words he had heard when died in the shadows of the crypts.

Never since the day he had appeared in a corner of the Conqueror's soul did Jon want to think about that night, that day of his name and much less, about those words.

Before Jon's helplessness, Balerion descended on the opening of the cave entering part of the snout in it. At that moment, Aegon spoke the word that Jon was dreading;

"Dracarys..."

Indeterminate

Jon saw the flame come out of the huge jaws of the Black Dread and everything went black around him. But he felt as if his body, Jon's real body that had died twenty-two years ago, was in the flames that enveloped him.

It felt like it had felt twenty-two years ago. Like burning from within, but also this time Jon was being scorched externally by flames. The pain was indescribable. Jon felt as if he was dying again. Except this time it felt like he was falling into a void but not like when his connection with Aegon was severed, but like he was actually falling.

Jon tried to open his eyes, but he only saw darkness and was only capable to felt warmth engulfing him. A suffocating heat that seemed to come from hells itself. But it was a scorching heat that Jon was beginning to appreciate. A heat that embraced him.

"Open your eyes." echoed within Jon the same voice from beyond the grave that he had heard in the crypts of Winterfell in what seemed like an eternity ago.

"It can't be. This isn't right, nothing is right, it's all madness. Or I'm dead and this is the different hells or what lies beyond the veil of death. I don't understand it, but it's madness." Jon tried to shout but he made no sound.

"Open your eyes." the magical reverberating voice compelled Jon again. While Jon felt as if he was being pecked between the eyes by some kind of bird.

"Open your eyes or you will drown in the darkness." practically ordered to Jon the voice from beyond the grave.

As he tried to open them, Jon looked down and felt his insides melt. He was no longer in Dragonstone. Jon was falling and the ground was quickly hurtling towards him now. The entire world spread wide below him, in a tapestry of white, brown, and green. Jon could see everything so clearly that, for a moment, he forgot to be afraid. He could see the entire kingdom and everyone in it.

Until all of sudden, Jon stopped falling and was in his body. Jon's body. Because he was back in the body he had when Jon was five and ten days of the name at the night he died in the crypts. But

this time he was wearing the clothes and armor of the Dragon including Blackfyre and the Valyrian steel band with rubies embedded in it.

He was in a clearing at a forest, beside a stream. A raven squawked nearby. From the color of the leaves on the trees and the temperature Jon would say it was spring, but it felt like it really wasn't.

Jon began to wander around the clearing, trying to locate where he was, but noticed that he was not actually physically there. Or at least that's what he thought when Jon saw that Blackfyre was too long for his height at five and ten days of the name, so it would have to be bouncing off the ground. But it didn't bounce, it didn't sound. It was as if he and the sword weren't really there.

Suddenly he heard the sound of a horse galloping, so he quickly hid behind some bushes in case he really was there.

Soon a beautiful white mare appeared before Jon's eyes, on which a little knight was riding with patched armor of different qualities and forms. On the back of the knight hung a shield made of white weirwood, with a Weirwood Tree whose blood seemed to form a smile on a black field.

Jon had not finished looking at the knight with the uneven armor, when he heard the sound of another horse approaching to the clearing.

The knight of the smiling tree shield must have noticed it too, because he took the shield again to place it with some problems on the right arm, while at the same time he drew a long sword with his left hand. But it seemed that the knight in uneven armor had some injury in his left shoulder, that of the sword. Jon didn't know who the knight was, or why he was here, but now he wanted to know who was coming for the knight and for what.

To Jon's surprise, on a splendid black destrier appeared someone who undoubtedly, after twenty- two years in the body of the Conqueror, Jon could recognize. A Targaryen. Clad in his black armor with the sigil of the house engraved with rubies over his chest, helmet finished off with the three- headed dragon in red. The difference in size and bearing of the newly appeared Targaryen did not daunt the little knight at all. Rather the opposite as the knight in uneven armor raised his guard even more.

"Halt! Show your face Ser, and we can resolve this without the King having to intervene." the deep and steely voice of the Targaryen echoed.

"HA! So that in that way I can be burned by your excellence instead of for his grace. If you want to see my face, you just have to take off my helmet. Come and get it, my prince!" the knight of shield with a Laughing Tree spoke in a voice distorted by the metal of the helmet.

Giving no option to reply at the Targaryen clad in black armor, the small knight spurred his mare, raising his sword above his head in the direction of his newly appeared opponent. The surprise of the Targaryen was capital, because he could barely draw his sword in time to clumsily block the fierce attack of the mysterious knight.

"Ser I don't understand why you are aggressive towards me. Would you have preferred that the King's Guard had come for you in search and capture? I can assure you that I have no intention of turning you over to my father, or doing you any harm. I just want to know the identity of the one who has so bravely and boldly dismounted knights greater than him, demanding as all reward for his heroics that the defeated show honor to their squires. It is a remarkable fact in my opinion, to meet someone who prioritizes honor over material goods." The dark knight tried to explain completely serenely, while he continued to easily block or parry the attacks without too much technique, but with fury from the little knight's. This one seemed not to realize that the Targaryen

was not attacking. Nor was really trying too hard in his defense with the sword, doing just enough so that the mysterious knight did not cause him any injury.

"Since when are the Mysterious Knights persecuted and considered enemies of the Crown for not wanting to show their face if they aren't defeated, Your Excellence? If I remember correctly, Ser Barristan made himself known to the world by entering as one of them in his joust against Duncan the prince of dragonflies." said between deep breaths for air the little knight in the ill-fitting armor made of patches while distanced himself from the huge black horse of the Targaryen to try to gain a breather.

Thanks to what Jon just heard, he was finally able to sort of place himself spatially and temporally. Jon now knew he was in Westeros at least after the 250 after the Conquest. Ser Barristan was still alive when Jon died, being the current Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's King's Guard. The Duncan who had just been mentioned by the mystery knight was the son of Aegon V the Unlikely who renounced his title of Crown Prince for the love of a common village woman, Jenny of Oldstones.

The rider Jon identified as Targaryen decided to remove his helmet and throw it and his sword to the ground, as a sign of peace. Under the first, a silver mane began to appear, from the sweat of the helmet crushed and stuck to the face. This revealed a young man of about nineteen or twenty days of the name with the typical inhuman beauty of old Valyria The Targaryen's skin was porcelain white and his eyes of a deep indigo color with purple veins that confirmed the suspicions Jon had formed since he saw him appear in the clearing wherever he was now. Before him was one of the Conqueror's descendants, but one that must have been recent.

Mentally reviewing, Jon quickly dismissed Jaehaerys II, for not even when was Crown Prince was he young. Before Jon had to be the Mad King or the Last Dragon. And from the conversation between the two knights, Jaehaerys II was not a king who went down in history for burning people. Rhaegar Targaryen was the Prince who was leaving his life at the hands of the mysterious knight.

Jon at least already knew exactly that he was in some place of Westeros a couple of years before Robert's Rebellion. Although he still didn't know where he was, or why he was there or even if he was really there.

The Knight of the Laughing Tree seemed totally taken aback by the surrendering attitude of the Crown Prince, doubting whether to resume the attack towards an unarmed and surrendered enemy, or if he fled.

While the patched armor knight was making up his mind, the Last Dragon had descended from his enormous black destrier and with complete calm and impassivity was approaching determinedly towards the mare of the mysterious knight.

"Don't go a step further, My Prince. I will not hesitate to separate your head from your shoulders if you do so." The little knight pronounced with a metallic tone, doubtful and still agitated.

Rhaegar Targaryen seemed unfazed by the threat, continuing his advance until he was within distance of taking the reins of the mysterious knight's mare.

Seeing the prince's proximity, the mysterious knight quickly raised the sword and placed it on the Targaryen's chin, much to Jon's horror and the utter reassurance of the threatened.

"I told you not to take another step! You may not be as they say your father is, but you aren't very sane from the mind when someone threatens to cut off your head and you still continue to tempt your fate..." The Knigth pronounced in an excited and nervous way, while the left arm in with

which he held the sword, shook.

"And yet I've continued with my advance and my head still continues attached to my shoulders." Rhaegar interrupted with a playful tone and a half smile that barely reached his eyes.

Before the mysterious knight could realize it, the prince of Dragonstone pushed the sword aimed at his chin away with the right hand gauntlet, closing the narrow distance between himself and the mare in less than a blink. The prince grabbed the reins of the white mare and, with a swift and sudden movement he drew a dagger from his right hip, slicing through the bridle of the saddle, causing the little knight to fall.

Before the mysterious knight could rise, the Last Dragon was straddling on the mystery knight's chest, resting the newly emerged dagger in the gap between gorget and helmet.

Seeing the dagger in more detail, Jon wanted to flee from where he was. But fearing he would be seen by the two persons on the other side of the bushes, he stood still.

'Again that seven times damned dagger.' Jon thought as he contemplated how the dagger with which he had taken his life twenty-two years ago and with which Visenya had performed the ritual in the caves of Dragonstone, reappeared before Jon's eyes.

It seemed like a macabre joke from the gods. Ever since the Red Comet appeared that night of the day of his name, every time Jon had seen that cursed dagger, what followed was always something terrible and painful for him.

Returning to what was happening in front of him, Jon saw how the mysterious knight raised his arms in surrender, which Rhaegar took as a signal to rise from the knight's chest and to then extend a hand to help the knight up.

The knight of the shield with the Laughing Tree, after a few moments of hesitation, accepted the offered hand and got back on his feet.

The mystery knight would have been around 1'70 tall, but seemed insignificant next to Rhaegar Targaryen, who would be around 1'95 and in his imposing dark armor appeared much larger than Rhaegar really was.

The picture was at least curious, because they looked like a child and a grown man.

However neither Jon, nor Rhaegar Targaryen judging by the gasp he let out and the wide eyes that had grown, expected what lay beneath the helm.

It was a girl, with long hair black as raven's wing that if it were not tangled and sweaty, it would descend almost to her waist. The pale complexion was a beautiful contrast to the reddish cheeks from the effort just made. An elongated face with sensual and fluffy lips and a thin and slightly upturned nose. And with eyes like Jon's father's, but smoother. They were like two pools of Valyrian steel, throwing daggers at the Crown Prince.

"Lady Lyanna Stark, My Prince." uttered with false courtesy who Jon now knew was his aunt.

He could already guess how the dagger could have come to Jon's aunt grave, but he did not

understand why his father would keep in it the personal dagger of his sister's rapist.

Before Jon could continue with his processing thoughts, the clearing in the forest he was in disappeared and he was once again falling into absolute emptiness.

Images of a tourney in what he knew was Harrenhal flashed before Jon'seyes. He could see a young Eddard Stark dancing with a beautiful and voluptuous maiden with purple eyes and hair black as a moonless night. Jon saw that same maiden having intercourse with a man who looked a lot like Lord Stark, but taller and bigger and a more pronounced jaw. Jon also saw as his aunt and the Prince of Dragonstone strolled hand in hand through the Godswood of the ancient castle with the falling stars as the only witnesses. Finally Jon watched as Rhaegar Targaryen crowned Lyanna as the Queen of Love and Beauty.

And in a blink, again Jon found himself as if falling into the void. Watching the whole world spreading before him.

But if Jon closed his eyes while trying to concentrate, he could continue to see images that he was unable to understand or cohere with each other, until he focused himself on a image of the Isle of Faces. Jon found himself witnessing how Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark were married before a large Weirdwood Tree in the ancient island on the God's Eye. Jon's aunt wore a blue and white satin dress, trimmed with a silver cloth. Lyanna's long raven hair was loose and her eyes were filled with adoration as she looked towards her future husband. The Crown Prince who, according to the official story, had kidnapped and raped Lyanna against her will.

The ceremony was being officiated by a Septon with a crystal crown resting on his head, as also were the falling stars from Harrenhal.

"Father, Mother, Blacksmith, Warrior, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his/hers and he/she is mine from this day until the end of my days." Both intoned, without regrets or doubts. They were husband and wife. A pact sealed when the falling star of the Kingsguard with a greatsword that appeared translucent strapped on his back, handed Rhaegar the black Targaryen wedding cloak, engraved with the bloody-red three-headed dragon. Lyanna knelt as the Last Dragon tenderly wrapped the cloak around her shoulders.

When Jon closed and opened his eyes again, the Isle of Faces had disappeared and he was in the middle of a battle in a mighty river. River which could not be other than the Trident.

Feeling strangely detached from everything, he could see how the left flank of the rebels broke through the royal lines, forcing them to retreat, but the rest of the line continued to resist.

"From what my father always told me, Robert broke the royal lines with a few swings of his hammer." Jon recalled, addressing no one in particular. 'But Rhaegar isn't making it easy for them at all.'

"A classic example of the history written by the victors." echoed bitterly and with contempt throughout the battlefield the voice from beyond the grave that had told Jon to open his eyes.

Jon could barely bear the shrills, grunts and screams of pain and death coming from the dying. He could see swords piercing armor and men drowning in the ravenous currents of the river. It was like moving through a vivid dream. Jon watched, strangely distant from everything as Robert and Rhaegar lined up directly with each other.

The prince at some time had been dismounted, and now he was fighting with his feet on the water, just as Eddard Stark had told Jon.

Not far from both men, the corpses were already piling up. Jon averted his gaze from the numerous dead, focusing on the final show-down between Rhaegar and Robert.

The Prince attacked first, launching himself at Robert with an impressive sword arc from over the prince's left shoulder down to the right side of his foe. Jon flinched at the sound of the The Demon of the Trident pierced steel plate.

This should have been enough to finish off any other man, but Robert Baratheon seemed to be a different matter. Though Robert Baratheon stepped back, he grabbed that hammer of his, the hammer that Jon's father Eddard Stark couldn't even lift, and arched it gracefully through the air. The impact of hitting the Prince's chest made even Jon recoil, gritting his teeth.

Then Rhaegar seemed to fall in slow motion, Jon's Aunt name on his lips as Rhaegar lost himself in the rushing stream of the mighty river.

And suddenly, the ground disappeared again and Jon again experienced an infinite fall...

Jon now was falling without restraint from the infinity of the sky towards a ground that was getting closer and closer. He closed his eyes in fear of the impact, but when he opened them again, Jon was standing in front of a door in a tower in the Red Mountains of Dorne.

The smell of iron and blood that had numbed him on the Trident, kept seeping through his nose. Jon had already had had enough battles to know when the scent was so potent that it spoke of death, or one that would come soon.

'His heart?' was pounding again in Jon's chest after an eternity without feeling it. His hands were sweaty and he had a hard time to not shake. Although Jon didn't even know what awaited him on the other side of the door, he was panicky at what might be found behind it, since Jon hadn't felt so alive since before he died.

"Remember, only death pays for life." Resounded a female voice long tried to forget by Jon's conscience. The voice full of magic from the night that this whole bizarre experience had begun.

Jon proceeded to open the door slowly and could not help the surprise that arose in his person when he found himself after twenty-two years, before who was undoubtedly Eddard Stark during Robert's Rebellion. But Jon's father didn't seems to see him. It was like Jon wasn't really there. Just like in his aunt's wedding, just like in Tourney of Harrenhal, just like during the Trident.

Eddard Stark was kneeling on the side of a bed where Jon's aunt was with a midwife and a maid on the other side. Even sweaty and sickly pale, Lyanna Stark was still a beauty to behold. Lyanna's expression was one of pain, sadness and fear. From her belly down the bed cloth was bathed in blood.

Winter roses were scattered around her.

"Ned ..." Jon's aunt whispered and he couldn't help the tear that rolled down his cheek, as Jon's father took Lyanna's hand lovingly.

"I'm here sister." Ned Stark said with a shallow smile, which faded as Lyanna's shoulders began to shake while sobbing silently

"Is it really you? Aren't you a dream?" asked in a whisper Lyanna Stark.

"I'm really here, Lya. I'm with you." Lyanna Stark's sobs grew less controlled as her hand squeezed Jon's father's with all the might that was left in her.

"I missed you big brother."

Jon felt helpless at the familiar scene he was watching. He wanted to comfort his father who was shedding tears like Jon had never seen in his life. He wanted to hug his aunt and assure her that everything would be fine, but Jon knew that it would not be like that and that he could not do more than be a ghost that witnessed as an exceptional witness,things that he still did not understand why.

"I've missed you too." Eddard Stark whispered.

"I want to be brave." Jon's aunt begged weakly.

"You are," Jon's father said as Ned raised a hand to wipe the sweat and tears from his sister's eyes.

"I'm not. I don't want to die." Lyanna said with a small voice, trying to shake her head, but without the strength to do so.

"You will not die". The words Ned Stark spoke were bitter in Jon's ears, knowing they were false. "Give her some water."

Lord Stark commanded the midwife, whom appeared to obey before Lyanna refused.

"No, I don't want water."

"Is there a maester?" his father asked aloud towards the two women.

"Listen to me Ned." Jon's aunt whispered and Eddard Stark had to lean down to listen.

"His name ... is ... Aegon Targaryen. Protect him, Ned. You have to protect him and his heritage. Promise me. Promise me, Ned."

Jon's father threw his head back, eyes locked on Lyanna's, watching the life in them slowly go away.

Jon didn't understand anything.

'Do I have a Targaryen cousin? Where is he? Why I never heard of him?'

Jon was trying to understand what was seeing. Although considering all the things he had just magically witnessed and what he knew first-hand that the story of the Citadel told nothing about Aegon's Conquest, nothing would surprise him anymore. After all, Jon wasn't even alive.

'So, how can I question what is really true and what is not?' Jon thought inwardly to then went on staring at the tragic scene before him

Eddard Stark nodded and watched as while Lyanna Stark smiled, the midwife brought a newborn baby for his father to hold.

"Robert cannot find out. He would kill my son, you know he would. The only way he can be sure is from his rightful throne. Only there will he have the power to prevent him from being harmed." Lyanna said as Eddard looked towards his nephew, Jon's cousin. The rightful king of the seven kingdoms.

When the baby's eyes opened Jon let out a strangled gasp, which no one in the room heard. The baby had Jon's eyes and Jon's raven hair.

Quickly all the pieces of the puzzle began to fit into Jon's mind, which was boiling with all the information he had just absorbed.

'Robert's rebellion was obviusly built on lies. This is still King even though Rhaegar never raped Lyanna and married her and they had a son who would be the heir to house Targaryen. I have never heard of this cousin of mine, who has the same features as mine, just as I have never heard of who my mother is...'

"No! It can't be! I'm Eddard Stark's bastard son with some whore, not the Last Dragon." Jon shouted, but nobody heard him.

In front of Jon 'Or should it be Aegon?' looked as 'His mother?' exhaled between salty tears her last breath while locked her eyes on his, as if she were capable of seeing him at that moment.

"You know inside who you are. You have known it for twenty-two years, even if you haven't wanted to accept." the female voice that tormented him resounded sweetly and magically.

"Eddard Stark would not lie to everyone in the Kingdoms. He would not lie to his own nephew, his own blood, in case if I were! He is honorable, he would never have broken the promise he swore to his sister if she were my mother..." He said frustrated trying to defend what seemed more and more indefensible every passing moment.

"Mother, Mother, Mother." resounded the mocking echoes produced by the horrifying squawk of the crow that he had heard for last time in the crypts of Winterfell, when he was prostrate without knowing it at the moment, before his mother's tomb.

Suddenly he felt as if a hand rested tenderly but firmly on his right shoulder, turning everything into darkness.

Jon or Aegon, whomever he was, wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to see Eddard Stark and ask him if anything he was seeing made sense. He wanted to be in the Conqueror's body again with Rhaenys strolling throught the beaches of Dragonstone.

He felt like he could drown in the dark and in his tears.

"Aegon Targaryen, Dragon Reborn, King in the Shadows. Your time to return to perform your Duty has come." The male voice from beyond the grave boomed, in a way that left no doubt who he meant by his words.

The darkness gave way to a vision. Aegon could discern the largest Weirdwood Tree he had ever seen in the middle of a clearing in a gigantic all-snowed forest.

"The answers you have yet to find are here." melodiously intoned the magical female voice.

After that, he felt as if he were in the middle of a storm of ice and fire that engulfed him.

His body felt like it was being broken to be put back together.

The infinite pain that he felt after stabbing himself with the dagger and after Visenya's ritual returned to every fiber of his entire body.

He felt as if he were incinerating from the inside. As if the fire came out of him and burned everything, melting the ice with the fire. Flooding his nostrils with the salty scent of melted ice and smoke from the extinguished fire, that intoxicated him.

He needed to breathe air again, he needed to open his eyes. He needed to get out of the damn nightmare that was his life after his death...

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"