Chapter 28

Otto's gaze lingered on Aerion for a moment before he exited the chamber. Once he was gone, Aerion turned to his father, his voice filled with determination, "I will also look into this, father. I will find a way to help you completely heal, but for now, I have a temporary solution."

"Alicent, hold my father's hands. They should stay still for some time," Aerion instructed. Alicent, despite being pregnant, complied and held Viserys' hand. Thanks to Viserys' steady hands, it was an easy task for Alicent.

Aerion then turned and opened a box filled with many acupuncture needles. These were specifically custom-made by the Maesters for him. He used fire to sterilize them before he started inserting the needles into various acupuncture points.

He methodically covered all the acupuncture points on Viserys' upper body. After everything was done, he made a small cut on his finger and with unwavering focus, traced the intricate pathways of Viserys' meridians with his blood.

Each point was a node in the vast network of life energy within, and as he completed the circuit by connecting the acupuncture needles with thin lines of blood connecting them to the ground, a subtle hum of power began to fill Viserys.

"Take a comfortable seat, sister Alicent, and focus on what's going to happen next very clearly," Aerion instructed, his voice steady yet authoritative.

He was going to show some of his cards to Alicent, as deterrent to the hightowers and their allies and also he wanted to let Alicent make a decision on which side she stood with the hightowers or with the Targaryen's.

"Father, you too, relax!" Viserys, bound by the acupuncture needles, nodded to his son.

"Don't be shocked or afraid," Aerion added, turning to address his father. With the solemnity of a sacred rite, he approached a small table, meticulously arranging the vessels in a precise order that only he understood.

The sharp glint of a knife caught the flickering candlelight as Aerion drew the blade across his arm. The crimson lifeblood flowed freely, a vivid contrast to the pale wood beneath. "What! Aerion, what are you doing?" The voices of Viserys and Alicent rose in unison, a duet of shock and concern.

Yet, only Alicent's voice echoed back; Viserys' lips moved, but no sound emerged. A chilling realization dawned upon him—he could not move.

"Sister Alicent, calm yourself. I haven't lost my senses," Aerion reassured, his gaze fixed on the vessel brimming with his essence. The bleeding ceased, and to the amazement of those present, the wounds closed before their eyes, leaving unmarred skin in their wake.

With a solemn grace, Aerion retrieved a bowl containing the Dragon blood, a potent elixir he had secured from the guarded chamber of Maester James.

Dipping his finger into the mixture, he began to trace an elaborate array around Viserys. The design bore a resemblance to the arcane symbols of mystic arts, yet it was altered, unique in its composition.

This ritual was a legacy, a dark inheritance from the Memory Orb of Bloodmist, an ancient Martial artist master, bestowed upon Aerion as a reward. Over the years, he had refined the ritual, substituting the traditional inner ki with a blend of dragon blood, his own life force, and the latent magic that coursed through his veins.

In this realm, where the ambient magic was but a whisper, the potency of blood held a mysterious power. It was as if the very essence of certain lineages and magical creatures carried within it the concentrated energy of the world, a reservoir of untapped potential.

As Aerion continued the ritual, the air grew thick with the scent of iron and ozone. The array pulsed with a life of its own, a heartbeat syncing with Viserys'. Alicent watched, her breath caught between fear and fascination, as the lines of the array began to glow, casting an otherworldly light upon the chamber walls.

The ritual was reaching its zenith, and with each drop of blood that Aerion sacrificed, the power within the array swelled. It was a dance of life and magic, a gamble with the very forces that governed their existence. And as the final symbol was drawn, a silence fell—a pregnant pause before the birth of something new, something extraordinary.

Aerion stepped back, his chest heaving with exertion and the toll of the ritual. "#$#_&&#" he whispered, his voice barely audible over the thrumming energy.

Aerion's hands moved with a deft precision, weaving a tapestry of lies and truths as he spoke, "Father, our Targaryen lineage is steeped in ancient powers. Many of us command dragons, some are blessed with foresight, others with immunity to fire and many ravaged with madness. And I... I have been bestowed with the lost art of blood magic of our forebears."

His voice was tinged with a feigned sorrow, "I have resisted its call, for its toll is heavy, consuming the very vitality of its wielder. But your wellbeing, Father, outweighs such costs." Aerion sighed, the sound heavy with an unspoken burden.

Yet, within the depths of his azure eyes, a spark of deceit flickered. Unbeknownst to those present, Aerion's dual heritage of Dragon lords and Asgardian bloodlines rendered the ritual's cost trivial. But this truth was his to keep, a secret shrouded in the shadows of his heart.

The ritual array was now complete, a complex network of symbols encircling Viserys. Alicent's gaze, filled with shock and fear, followed Aerion's arms as they began to gather a swarm of red, glowing particles—his magical essence. It was a faint glow, but it sufficed for the task at hand.

With a decisive motion, Aerion thrust the orb of energy into the heart of the array.

The symbols ignited with a crimson hue, small tongues of flame licking the air as if tasting freedom. A thick, reddish smoke billowed forth, wrapping around Viserys in an ethereal embrace. A guttural scream shattered the silence, reverberating off the stone walls as the red mist seeped into Viserys, tracing the pathways of his meridians with fiery tendrils.