~I think of how the mystics read by the light of their own bodies. What a world of darkness that must have been to read by the flaming hearts that turn into heaps of ash on the altar, how everything, in the end, is made equal by the wind.~
Daenys Ve...
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Year: 120 AC
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Daenys stirred in her sleep, feeling a chill in the air that slowly pulled her back to consciousness. As she opened her eyes, the darkness enveloping the room greeted her, and for one terrifying moment, she thought she had gone blind in her sleep. Eventually, she began to see the faint traces of moonlight seeping through the heavy curtains. The room felt eerie, shrouded in a silence that amplified the soft crackling of dying embers in the fireplace.
She sat up slowly, her breath visible in the cold air, and glanced around. The last thing she remembered was sitting with her father, in front of the warm, roaring fire, wrapped in blankets to ward off the dampness of the night. She kicked away the blankets that someone had very carefully tucked around her, and clambered off the bed she was now in, using her hands to carefully feel her way forward.
Driftmark was cold, and Daenys shivered in her thin gown. The silence was unsettling, and it made her feel small and vulnerable. She walked to the window and drew the curtains all the way, revealing the shimmering moonlight outside. From up here, she had a good view of the castle grounds, bathed in a silvery glow. The room flooded with light as well, revealing to her the details of her father's childhood chambers. The fire in the fireplace had completely gone out, and the ocean air filled the room with cold dampness. The room itself was spacious, adorned with ornate tapestries, the contents of which Daenys could not make out too clearly. The stone floor beneath her bare feet made goosebumps prickle up her flesh and she wrapped her arms tighter around her.
Outside the window, a strange sight caught her eye. She inched closer and saw four small figures creeping across the grounds and ducking into one of the passageways on the opposite side of the castle. She would have thought nothing of it, except Targaryen hair was hard to miss, the pale strands of her cousins' hair glinting in the moonlight. If she squinted, she could also make out two familiar heads of dark hair. Instinctively, she knew she had to follow them. She turned away from the window and quickly slipped out of the room, hurrying down the unfamiliar halls to try and find the younger children. The hallways proved to be a labyrinth, and Daenys struggled to find her way through the castle. It took her a while to locate the exit as she tried to recall the route she had taken with her father when they had come in earlier.
Eventually, she found herself outside what she hoped was the passage her brothers and cousins had taken. She wasn't particularly sure, but as she crept closer, she could make out screaming and the sounds of a fight coming from inside.
"You will die screaming in flames, just as your father did!" Aemond's snarl echoed from the opening. "Bastards!"
Daenys's eyes widened. What had he just said?
"My father's still alive!" came Luke's strangled sob.
Daenys peaked into the passageway, her eyes blinking furiously to adjust to the dim lighting. Baela and Rhaena stood huddled in one corner. Aemond's fingers were wrapped around Luke's throat, a large stone held in one raised hand.
