In the depths of slumber, Alysane was ensnared in a nightmarish dream, a twisted vision that tore at the fabric of her psyche. She found herself trapped within the forbidding halls of what seemed to be the Eyrie, its towering spires casting long, suffocating shadows that seemed to loom over her like vengeful specters.
The air grew heavy with a sense of dread, The walls whispered with malevolent secrets, their echoes taunting and tormenting her. Alysane's heart pounded in her chest, and an incurable pit in her stomach.
She began to stumble through the oh so unfamiliar halls when she saw a silhouette of a man. The figure, adorned with a silver mask bearing the sigil of House Arryn, seemed to materialize from the very essence of her nightmares.
With a bone-chilling voice that reverberated through her soul, the masked figure beckoned her closer, its gesture laced with an insidious allure. Alysane's legs moved as if pulled by an unseen force, her every step echoing with a sense of impending doom.
The figure's face remained concealed, shrouded in enigmatic shadows. Alysane's voice trembled as she dared to speak, her words barely a whisper in the oppressive atmosphere. "Who... who are you? What do you want from me?"
The figure offered no response, instead extending a skeletal hand, its gnarled fingers curling with sinister intent. Panic gripped Alysane's heart as she was forced to reach out, her fingertips brushing against the cold, unfeeling flesh.
A shiver coursed through her veins as the figure's voice pierced the air, each word a chilling dagger to her soul.
"The darkness gathers, the realm crumbles. The falcon's flight falters, forever trapped in its descent. Beware the whispers, for they shall consume you."
Alysane's mind reeled with terror, the weight of the figure's words crushing the last pinch of calm she had left. She saw flames but they looked different, tis was not normal fire but not wildfire either. A shine peeked through the distinct flames,it was a blade? A blade that seemed to be made of Valrian steel with an unstraightened shape. Deep red blood slowly appeared -unworldly yet nightmarish- as she reached for the blade ignoring the flames she would normally scare at anticipating grave pain. But the blade disappeared into the blood and flames just as she reached it. As she blinked she was somewhere new.
"Can't this end?" she thought to herself in fragmented thoughts. All she saw was snow. Just snow and a sort of serenity, it felt as if this was her own apology. As she focused on the view Alysane saw an old shabby castle in the distance; it seemed to be castle black of the Night's Watch though she had never seen the castle. It was the north,of course it was always cold, but the white flakes from the sky seemed to share much importance yet to be discovered. This short lived peace was interrupted as a sound that would scare the old gods and new along with her seemed to surround her.
It had been the screech of a dragon.
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A/N; sorry for the slow updates shits been wack recently. I've had this written for a while jus didn't know If I should have made it a standalone or an intro. 🙈
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The Vailed Dragon
AdventureIn the realm of deceit and hidden identities, Alysane Rivers, a young Targaryen bastard, strode with an unyielding confidence, her head held high, concealing the tantalizing strands of blond hair peeking through her brown locks. To the world, she ap...
