𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐒, aegon ii targaryen

𝓲. whispers beyond the ruins

I ── 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐒,

fire & blood

⚔︎

[ CHAPTER ONE ]

 𝕴𝐍 𝐀 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄, shrouded in whispers of fire and blood, the ruins of Valyria stood defiant against the march of ages. The Doom had long since swallowed its glory, and yet the bones of the ancient empire still jutted from the blackened earth like the fangs of a dead beast. Here, the sky was always veiled in a choking smoke, thick and eternal, refusing the touch of sunlight. No birds flew over Valyria, and no gentle breeze stirred its air; only the faint rumble of distant mountains—volcanoes now cold but still smoldering in memory—echoed through its cursed lands.

Among the brave few who dared wander the forsaken halls of the ruined city was a girl, no more than seventeen years of age. Her hair was a deep brown, yet streaked with strands of silver that gleamed faintly in the dim light that bled through the ash-stained sky. Her eyes, however, told a tale far older than her years. One was the color of pale violet, echoing the Targaryens of old, and the other shimmered silver, a strange gleam that marked her as something more—or perhaps less—than human.

Haerya had made her life among the ruins, wandering through the jagged spires and fallen towers, through streets that had once thrummed with the power of dragons and the hammering of steel. She was no ordinary girl; not merely a child of flesh, but a daughter of the Doom itself, a relic of that terrible day when fire consumed the world's most powerful empire. Some whispered that her blood carried the madness and fire of her ancestors, while others believed she was born of the smoke, a living ghost of Valyria.