Jelaerya Caeniar

The Courthouse, Dragonstone, 400 years after the Doom

When it was that Daenerys had gotten out of the fire she could not say, nor could she say she remembered her leaving the crowd alongside her betrothed and uncle. Yet it was clear they had as she scanned the crowd quickly to see neither of the three there. Numerous eyes were on her- a mixture of pity, shock, and disgust. Feeling shame deep within because that was how she felt currently.

Disgusted.

That was the only word that described what she felt. How could she not? Weddings were one of the only times the Eleven wholly agreed with one another and there was never a fight. It was all respect and marked down in memory for all to witness. Mayhaps that is what was so bad about it. That those of the past saw. They were witness to their House, they were witness to her boy destroying his House. The spirits never remained for long, they were only called upon to witness the continuation of their blood and nothing more. They could not speak, and they could not interfere. Yet they could hear and they could see. Seeing the disgust of the Valyrian's of the past shaking their heads in dismay with what had happened if anything had shamed her even more.

Why? Why her boy? It didn't make sense to her. Daeron was a good boy, a lovely boy. Yes, it was true he aligned more with the Dallaeron ways than he did the Caeniar ways but that was not out of the ordinary. He had her blood, but he was a Dallaeron. What had happened in the two years since she had seen him last to have even so much as considered doing something so despicable in the sights of those of Old, the Fourteen, the Eleven, and those who were invited due to blood?

"Iderenniot, sīr." (To the courthouse, now.)

A voice spoke. Strangely quiet but with venom deep within which caused a chill to wrack through her body. Seeing now her sister had gone after Daeron who had been escorted out by Dragonstone guards once it was determined Daenerys was not injured. Her other sisters were giving her strange looks as were her brothers, and a single glance at her father had her trembling. It was clear he was furious, and Jelaerya simply hoped it was not her his rage was directed towards. Jacaerys walking just ahead of her visibly furious too but she suspected he was not angry the same way she was.

House's Dallaeron and Caeniar were the last two purely Valyrian House's of the Eleven. All of the others had married outside of the Eleven at least once and had allowed their blood to be tainted. They'd always been closer to one another due to such. Jacaerys and herself had been close as babes, one of many reasons her father and his father had agreed to the match. Many a time did they bind as one, they took pride in the fact they had the purest Valyrian blood in the world. Yet as they got older, they slowly drifted apart. Yet they had been sworn in the Temple when they were babes and they had sworn the vows when she was four and ten, and he was six and ten. They were considered one in the eyes of the Gods. Over time, the distance had turned to dislike and now they could barely stand to be in the same room together. Yet he had given her sons, sons she loved with all her heart and sons she would happily die for if need be.

The courthouse of Dragonstone was attached to the Temple which was a good thing. As it meant that what had occurred within may not leak outside of the walls. If they could contain it to only themselves mayhaps in a couple of generations it would be seen as a fabrication. Wishful thinking, she knew, yet she could hope. Comprised of fourteen individual rooms for plights to be heard, the room where anyone could be invited within, and a room solely for the ruler of whichever city the courthouse was based in. They were taken upstairs which caused her to let out a long sigh of relief as it meant that they were being taken to one of the individual rooms so no one else would be witness to what was to be said. Her son had already insulted and embarrassed them enough this day, neither her House nor House Dallaeron needed more of such.

"Dēmātās." (Sit.)

Rhaegar spoke, this time a little louder than when he had ordered them here confirming just how angry he was. Not that she could blame him for if someone had pushed any of her siblings into an open fire publicly during a wedding of all things she would be furious too.

"Ȳdrātās." (Speak.)

All she could do was gulp. How could she speak? How could she even begin to defend or come up with anything that would not incriminate her boy further? Not only had he done what he'd done, he had taken a slave to Dragonstone with him whom he'd disguised as a servant to avoid suspicion. She herself never liked the practise, nor did her sister Baemala, yet every free man in Volantis had at least five slaves at their beck and call. It was just the way of life in Volantis, it always been the way. She hadn't even seen her boys in two years since the fight that happened between their fathers over her own fathers refusal to punish the slave who pushed Talisa Maegyr. Malaelar was adamant he should be punished but her father refused to do so because the reason he done so was to save Eron Maegyr's life after almost drowning in the Rhoyne. Instead of doing what honour called on her to do, she had stood by her father, and she had been banished from Elyria for doing so.

She had begged for at least one of her boys to be allowed to stay with her but Jacaerys had returned in kind by leaving a mark on her cheek visible for everyone to see for more than a week. Instead having to rely on the little information that came her way from Elyria as her House were no longer Dragonlord's so she could not fly there to demand to speak to her husband or boys. Her best communication was through her sister Saerysa who was sister to Jacaerys and Taherys. The only reason she was not wed to either of her brothers was solely for the political gain it would being both House's to be tied in blood once more. She'd not even been allowed to be there when her sister and eldest were wed which had infuriated her father more than he'd already been at the treatment. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before staring at Rhaegar who was waiting patiently for either of them to speak.

"Īlva trēsy qogron istos daor, kostilus iksan." (Our son was not in line, I am sorry.)

It was clear her words were not taken well yet wait they did for what her husband was going to say. This came not long after.

"Ziry iksos daor, ābrazȳrs. Dohaeriro ryptios daor, dohaeriros qilōnarios gūros." (He did not, wife. The slave did not listen, the slave deserves punishment.)

Her gut dropped at this because he knew as much as she that Dragonstone did not tolerate slavery. It was illegal and punishable by death if a person was caught to be dealing with such a thing. By her husband saying the words he had, it was clear he had known that Daeron had brought a slave with him which meant he knew what he was risking. He'd just sealed Daeron's death with those words. The thought immediately caused her to press her lips together tightly for as much as she disliked her eldest currently, he was her little boy. He would always be her little boy, and she did not wish for him to lose his life so young. Would her husband really stoop so low as to risk such a thing solely to prove a point? Clearly he would, and her disgust grew more from this.

"Zaldrīzesdōron dohaerirossa emos daor, Jakaerys." (Dragonstone does not have slaves, Jacaerys.)

How Rhaegar was remaining as calm as he was surprised her, wondering if there would be a way for her to speak to him to see if they could lower it from death to something else. It was not likely, yet she could try. It was the best option she had to save her boy.

"Ezīmillion dohaerirossa mijes? Ezīmillion iksos daor." (A Freehold missing slaves? It is not a Freehold.)

If she wasn't embarrassed and angry before she certainly was now. Having to fight every bone in her body not to punch her husband in the face for his words which were now over the line of treason.

"Aōha trēsy dohaeriros Zaldrīzesdōron mādis. Zaldrīzesdōron dohaerirossa emos daor. Aōha trēsy vēttir Zaldrīzesdōro spryjatis." (Your son brought a slave to Dragonstone. Dragonstone does not have slaves. Your son broke the law of Dragonstone.)

"Ziry vēttir Ezīmillio spryjassus!" (He didn't break the law of the Freehold!)

By the Fourteen, let Baerax put an end to this soon. She was not sure how much more of this insult she could take.

"Ezīmillion Uēpo teto daor. Zaldrīzesdōron ilā. Daero ȳdrenna. Henujagon kostā, Jakaerys." (The Freehold of Old is done. You are in Dragonstone. I will speak to Daeron. You can leave, Jacaerys.)

Clearly he had reached his limit with her husband. Not even daring to look at him as he pushed his chair back in a way that caused it to make a screeching noise which made her cringe before leaving the room to head back to where everyone was gathered. A few minutes passed before anything else was spoken.

"Your husband is a swine."

"I know."

For a moment, it took her time to realise she had slipped. She had never made it known outside of her family that she spoke common so her immediate reply confirmed that she knew more than she let on. Alas, Rhaegar did not seem surprised.

"I've known for years you speak common, Jelaerya. Now, I will hear it from yourself as that will determine what happens to your son. The only reason I am not immediately sentencing him to death is due to the fact my sister was not harmed. How she was not harmed I know nought, yet it does complicate matters."

And so she spoke. For how long she knew nought only that the sun was beginning to rise confirming it the start of the next day when she did stop. The entire time, Rhaegar gave no indication of what he was thinking or what he thinking about her solution to the problem. Yet he had listened to her, and surely that had to mean something did it not? Seeing there was already a carriage awaiting her to take her back to where her family were staying within the city.

Maelon Caeniar

The Caeniar Manse at Dragonstone, 400 years after the Doom

He did not sleep that night. How could he sleep after what had happened? For so long he had worked to ensure he had a good position because as one of the families who no longer possessed dragons, they had to rely solely on politics. Volantis may be the largest city in the Freehold with a population of over eleven million at last count total, yet they were not as strong as they had once been. Not to mention they had to contend with the stain that their ancestor started the very war which resulted in them losing their dragons over immediate revenge.

Haegon Caeniar was never meant to be Lord Freeholder, he wasn't ever even meant to be Lord Admiral. The third son and therefore was never trained with the finer aspects of ruling one of the cities of the Freehold. Then his eldest brother had died unexpectedly leaving a daughter who was born cursed by the Fourteen with no eyes, his remaining older brother being killed in a stupid fight within the west. This was what started it, Haegon wanted revenge for his brother but he did not think to consider that investigating everything first was better than immediately attacking. A fifth of west Volantis was destroyed that day and when word got out of such a thing Maelon's own ancestor Gaemon (the youngest of the four brothers) rose in rebellion for such an act. They were sworn to defend their own city, and when Haegon had done what he had, he had besmirched the Gods and was considered tainted.

Alas, as the incident occurred already long into the early hours, there wasn't much time before there was shuffling feet outside the doors confirming people were up and walking around the manse. Rubbing his hands over his face and groaning before getting out of bed and dressing for the day. With luck, Jelaerya would be back by now and he could ask her directly what had happened. He could not blame her for she had not seen her boys in two years, yet she should've openly scolded him to wipe them of any harm. When he walked into the main hall, he sighed with relief she was. Her eyes puffy from crying through the night and gripping her spoon so tightly it was like she was trying to crush it. None of his other children were clearly awake yet which gave him time to speak to her.

"Aōha trēsy qogron gūros, Jelaerȳs" (Get your son in line, Jelaerya.)

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes.

"Ynot ryptīlus daor, mēre Jakaero ryptīlza." (He does not listen to me, he will only listen to Jacaerys.)

"Pār aōhys valz ȳrys qogron gūros." (Then get your husband in line.)

The look shot his way was not pleasant, yet he was not backing down. She needed to reel in her husband and son so as not to further embarrass their House. He recalled seeing the various looks of the spirits when it happened. Everything from shocked to anger to disgust. If they were able to speak or touch anything, he didn't doubt he would be a grandson less this morning.

"Jakaerys ynot ryptīlus daor. Nyke pār buzdari Eroni qīzy kaerīniles." (Jacaerys does not listen to me. Since I supported the slave who saved Eron, he has spurned me.)

That he had. Maelon still remembered the message coming that Jacaerys had banished Jelaerya from Elyria for doing what she had even if he himself had also agreed to such a thing. All of his family had supported it, yet only one child was banished for she was expected to support her husband and not the family she had come from as the Godly Flames said.

"Malaelo ȳdrēnna, Jakaero ȳdrēlza. Skoriot aōhi mandī ilzi?" (I will speak to Malaelar, he will speak to Jacaerys. Where are your sisters?)

A servant walked out then with some food for him which he gladly took and began to pick apart the pastry.

"Baemala Elioma Lyannosō issa, ziry gaomon keligon sylutas. Visenia Nesaemeroma issa. Delaesa ruaras." (Baemala is with Elia and Lyanna, she is trying to stop an issue. Visenya is with Nesaemera. Delaesa is hiding.)

"Sȳz. Skoro syt Āeksio Ezīmillrys Rhaegar aōt ȳdragon?" (Good. What did Lord Freeholder Rhaegar want to talk to you?")

Of course, he knew why he had asked to speak to her, but he wanted to know what was said. Jelaerya finishing her food and a servant noticed before taking everything away to be cleaned. They had their own manse on Dragonstone. Not as large as the Targaryen manse and mayhaps a quarter the size of the Caeniar manse, but it was large enough for the family to remain within. They rarely came here anyway, only a couple of times a year at most.

"Rhaegar ñuhom trēsommy kirine iksos daor." (Rhaegar is not pleased with my son.)

He rolled his eyes her way, wishing she would just say what had happened instead of trying to drag it out like she clearly was. Alas, she was the most alike her mother in that way so he knew he would never be able to get through her stubbornness. Baemala was his heir, his first girl, and was incredibly intuitive with wanting to learn anything and everything. Visenya was always dutiful and kind yet did not have a brilliant mind for politics. Jelaerya was the youngest of the triplets and there were times he looked at her and saw only Rhaelle.

"Aōha trēsy zȳhor hāedar perzot inditis." (Your son pushed his sister into a fire.)

"Gīmon, kepus. Skoros Daeron teta gīmā?" (I know, father. Do you know what Daeron done?)

Given the way she had said those words, he had done something else he was not yet privy too. Straightening up and speaking.

"Daor, ñuhus riñus." (No, my girl.)

"Buzdari mādis. Volantīha buzdari. Zaldrīzesdōrot! Buzdari hae dohaeriros jonevīles, yn Daenerys bartanna ūndas." (He brought a slave. A Volantene slave. To Dragonstone! The slave was dressed as a servant, but Daenerys saw the tattoo.)

That...was not what he was expecting to hear. A slave? A Volantene slave? Rage coursed through him at the words for how could this have happened? How had they been unaware of it? There were no Volantene slaves in Elyria from what he recalled unless one the Dallaeron's had outbid on some who were being auctioned to pay off a debt. It wasn't an uncommon thing for nobles within the Black Walls of East Volantis to spend more than their coffers permitted. Leaning over and covering his face with his hands because by him doing so, he had incriminated House Caeniar alongside House Dallaeron.

"Izūlo ampō ondoso, mittys taobus." (By the fourteen, idiot boy.)

"Ñuhom tresommy lentot ȳdrēnna." (I will be speaking with my son at the manse.)

Much to his surprise, the second of his children to appear was Nesaemera. His youngest child and the only one who had no memory of her mother as she was only two when Rhaelle passed. Much like Jelaerya, she looked equally shocked. Other than his youngest triplet, she was the child who would be shamed the most as Daeron was her husband too. His other girls and his boys appeared not long after alongside Saerysa who sat between Nesaemera and Jelaerya clearly in a sign of solidarity. Aunt both in marriage and in blood- she was more Caeniar than Dallaeron now and she openly talked on how much she detested her brothers. Taherys even had a chunk missing from his left ear from when they were children courtesy of his sister. He dismissed himself not long after and headed outside to where the carriage was already awaiting him, wasting no time in getting inside for he was not going to walk. Baemala and Jelaerya may prefer to walk in the streets, but he would never sully himself by doing something as such. He was taken to the manse the Dallaeron's had bought for a time and it was Jacaerys who initially answered who at first went to close the door only to be shouted at by Malaelar who let Maelon in.

"Jās!" (Go!)

He yelled to his son who was visibly furious still. Nostrils flaring for a moment before turning and disappearing down the corridor again. Stepping within the building and being led up two flights of stairs to the room Malaelar had clearly claimed as his own and closing the door behind him before locking the ancient bolts with blood so no one could get inside. The room was simple enough yet they were only expected to be here for ten days at most so that was all that was needed. They had discussed somewhat in the initial upheaval but had agreed to let themselves calm before discussing which was what he planned to do. Taking a seat opposite the older man.

"Zān ūja iotāptīlon daor. Sīr, sīlie ikson daor. Mēre sētryssy perzot glaesagon kosti." (Yesterday I would not consider it. Now, I am not so sure. Only sorcerers can live in fire.)

"Otāpagon kostō daor- " (You cannot think.)

Clearly they had both changed their mind through the night. When Malaelar had spoken the words to him when it had happened, he had laughed. Yet the more he thought on it, the more sure he was becoming and if he were correct- his mind whirred at the possibilities that could mean for his House. Of course, to do so they would need to finally dilute their blood but Maelon could handle that.

"Otāpon daor. Ūja ūndā, Malaelaros. Daenerys Targārien perzys glaestin." (I am not thinking. You saw it, Malaelar. Daenerys Targaryen survived fire.)

And only sorcerers were ever recorded to be able to do so and leave no marks on their bodies. He let the words sit for a few moments as the other sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair.

"Skoriot ziry issa?" (Where is she?)

"Ānogriot zȳhom kekepoma lēkiannomā." (In the Ānogrion with her great uncle and nephew.)

Or if what he had heard was true that was where they were. He'd seen the fury of the younger Aemon when he realised and if Jacaerys had not already been ordered away by Rhaegar, he wondered if the boy would've reacted physically. He didn't look like he had their blood at first or even second glance. Yet when he stood beside his brother their features were surprisingly similar, it was simply their colouring that made them look so unalike.

"Jakaerys kirine iksos daor." (Jacaerys is not happy.)

That was an understatement considering he had almost refused entry to Maelon into the manse. His father would likely be scolding him in private later in the day for such a thing.

"Īlva trēsanna īlon nārijon ēza." (Our grandson has shamed us.)

"Ēza yn ñuha trēsy Daeron pāsas pirta iksos daor." (He has but my son believes Daeron is not wrong.)

What? How could Jacaerys look at what his son had done and think he had done nothing wrong? If it had happened in Volantis or Elyria it wouldn't have been wrong for it was common to own many slaves. Yet taking a slave to a city where slavery had been outlawed more than three hundred years prior wasn't even an insult to anyone involved. It was a good thing that Daenerys somehow survived for if she had been injured or Fourteen forbid died, it might've been the end of both of their House's for such an act.

"Pirta iles. Zaldrīzesdōron buzdari emos daor se Daeron buzdari mādis." (He was wrong. Dragonstone does not have slaves and Daeron brought a slave.)

"Gīmin, Maelos. Izula ampā tubissa zȳhor gūrotir gīmīli." (I know, Maelon. In fourteen days we will know his fate.)

All Maelon could do was sigh at this for at least they had time to consider the possibilities beforehand. Even if it meant they had to remain on Dragonstone longer than intended until the fourteen days of prayer permitted for the one to be trialled were up.

"Kessa, kesi." (Yes, we will.)

Daenerys Targaryen

The Sacred Chamber of the Ānogrion of Dragonstone, 400 years after the Doom

When she awoke, she was in a room she had never seen before. Completely black, the walls perfectly smooth in a material she knew to be fused stone which confirmed she was somewhere in the castle as it was the only building on Dragonstone made of the material other than the walkway up to the castle. Trying to move but feeling a hand press against her chest and push her down. Opening her eyes a little to see Aemon looking down at her worryingly.

"Where am I?"

"This is the Sacred Chamber of the Ānogrion. Only those of the Wisdom are permitted within and are sworn to not speak of its contents."

"But we are not of the Wisdom."

Surprisingly, he chuckled a little. Hearing shuffling and turning her head slowly to see they were not alone as their uncle felt around for the remaining chair beside her and carefully sitting down.

"No, you are not. But you, my niece, survived fire. The last Targaryen that done so was Lord Freeholder Gaemon himself."

What? That was something she had never read about before. Moving her arms until she was rested on her elbows and slowly shuffling back into a seated position and leaning against the wall as she tried to recall what had happened. It was all a bit of a blur. She remembered the dancing, the awe on the faces of those who had not witnessed a Valyrian wedding before as the spirits came forth, to the way her ears popped when the dragons roared, to the heat of the fire... Eyes widening as she looked to her arms and reached up to her hair. Yet there wasn't a mark on her body.

"Why am I here, then?"

"You are here because this chamber is sacred. No one will hear us. What is in here are things that cannot be known. The only reason my namesake is here is because I know you would not keep it from him."

A small laugh left her, for she knew the words to be true. She never kept anything from Aemon, and he never kept anything from her either. Watching as he handed her over a glass which was filled with what appeared to be water and gulping it down quickly at realising just how thirty she was.

"I cannot tell anyone else?"

"No. Anyone else it must remain a secret. Do both of you swear?"

It was rare their uncle spoke in such a tone to either of them. More oft than nought he talked to them like an elder would, and not as sharply as he was currently. Clearly, whatever they were about to be told was serious if they were to swear to never speak of what was said once out of here.

"Yes."

They both spoke at the same time. They waited for a few moments so she could gather herself before she got off of the bench she'd been lain on and glanced around in more detail. The walls weren't wholly smooth she saw now, seeing numerous glyphs carved into the fused stone. Reading some of them and frowning because they didn't make sense, they didn't read as sentences. Clearly, their uncle knew where he was going as he didn't even need to lean against the walls to get his whereabouts. A corridor which came to a staircase and down a level they went, then along another corridor into a large circular room, through one of four doors to another staircase and down another level. Looking to Aemon and being glad he had just as odd a look on his face to her own. She never knew the Ānogrion ran as deep as this, they had to be deep below the Dragonmont by now surely?

Her thought was answered as soon they came passed a bridge with one side exposed, one quick look over the edge and she saw a deep reddish light which could only be one thing. Eyes widening and scampering as far away as she could get from said edge and stopping outside of a door that looked even more ancient than the castle itself. Their uncle taking out a small knife and pressing it into his palm with not a single wince before letting his blood drip over the locks and chanting words under his breath too low for her to make out. Entering the chamber and seeing it looked alike the chamber they knew well within the Ānogrion much higher up. Aemon reached over for one of the torches and after their uncle confirmed it would be helpful, he slowly pressed it down to the trough as the room came alight in the fire.

"What is this place, uncle?"

Aemon asked, in a mixture of wonder and fear. What was in here that was so secretive they never even knew said chamber existed?

"This is the Alter of Balerion, Aemon. One of thirteen alters deep within the Ānogrion besides the main one where blood vows are made. These ones are solely for those in the Wisdom who seek repentance for their particular studies."

Why would anyone in the Wisdom need to seek repentance? The Wisdom were for gaining as much knowledge as possible, what knowledge could be sought that was so terrible they had to plead with the Fourteen? Looking around before noticing a strange section. A part of one of the walls was red glass and behind it there was something she had never seen before.

"Uncle, what is that?"

Daenerys asked curiously, catching Aemon's attention too as he walked over and his own eyes widened. It was around four feet in height, with proportions similar to a person...yet it was not a person. Instead of a nose there was a long snout, holes where ears should be, a row of spikes along the head and skin as black as the night sky. It looked...real. Their uncle clearly heard where they had wandered to from their voices as soon he was beside them and he felt around to find out where he was before letting out a breath in understanding.

"That is the frozen body of a creature from the Freehold. We do not know how it got here but the earliest record is from Lady Freeholder Alyssa of Valyria herself. Therefore, it is from before the Doom. Mayhaps why Dragonstone was taken, for experimentation."

"It's like a bat- "

She began, eyes widening in horror at what she was looking at. They'd heard of course that there were creatures never seen elsewhere that had gone extinct in the Doom. Now they were looking at one and there was no way to even guess as to what it was. Realising now it was clearly encased in the glass, mummified for eternity for all to see.

"It is a Chimera. Not a bat but not a person."

"What- "

Clearly, Aemon thought the same as her as his breathing deepened. Hearing what the Freehold of Old had done and seeing what the Freehold of Old had done was not the same thing. There were true chimeras said to live in the mountains surrounding the peninsula before it was destroyed with the Fourteen Flames erupted, and then there were the untrue chimeras as the books said. Where those so obsessed with expanding into places they never should've carried out barbaric practises to try and create new species to assist in the Valyrian's of Old's lust for power.

"There are things the Freehold of Old done that are unspeakable. Yet they are fascinating."

Daenerys wasn't so sure about the word fascinating. Disgusting and horrifying is what she would describe it as. Yet she couldn't bring herself to look away from it. Wondering just how old this thing was, how it had gotten here, who had brought it here. Had it been bred here? Or was it bred in the Freehold of Old and simply moved to Dragonstone once the island had been added to their domain?

"Little is known of the extent of it as those who did survive were not knowledgeable about what was happening. They knew it was happening, yet not the extent of it. Take Gogossos for example, or the forests of Mantarys- "

"They say the forests surrounding Mantarys' mountains are haunted."

Aemon cut their uncle off which caused the older to chuckle in amusement as if he had just told the funniest jape ever.

"Those of the Wisdom theorise that they are not haunted. What resides in those forests are the remnants of the experiments carried out by our distant ancestors when the Freehold of Old was at its height."

"Why are you telling us this?"

Finally, she got the question out she had been desperate to ask but hadn't gotten the chance to yet. What did this have to do with what happened? How did chimeras and the atrocities their ancestors partook in tie in with her being unable to be burnt by fire?

"Those of the Wisdom wish to speak to you about what happened. Whilst it is true us Valyrian's can withstand more heat than those not Valyrian, we should not be able to survive fire directly. It is believed Gaemon could do so as he is recorded by Lord Freeholder Aenar to have studied with a sorcerer in the Freehold."

Now, she stepped back. Looking between Aemon and their uncle with wide eyes as if wishing to be told she was not hearing what she thought she was. There was no way. They'd all died out. All variations of sorcery ceased to exist more than two hundred years ago. Even when it was around there were only a handful that were known and it was disputed if they ever were or simply were good at spreading word to help their cause.

"You can't think I'm- "

"That is what the Wisdom believe, and they are not alone. Many are whispering such a thing as they all witnessed it. Your clothing was burning, your hair was burning, and yet you were not touched."

Daenerys felt her eyes get heavy for not even a second before everything went black.