Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

Chapter XXVII ''Death will bend its knee''

Cold.

This was her first sensation as she experienced another dream.

Even very cold, snow everywhere, frosty wind that irritated her skin. She didn't know what this place was, so she just walked forward, trying to figure out what this dream was about. There must have been some water nearby, she could hear its gentle sound.
Eventually she came across some people in ragged clothes, all standing still. As she got closer to them, she stopped for a moment, transfixed.

They were dead. Injured, some missing a limb, emaciated, some even without skin. The only thing they all had the same were intense blue eyes. They didn't seem to notice her, even as she walked past them, slowly approaching the water. She stood on the shore. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the wind and see more, but all she could see were some boats in the distance, sailing further and further away.

She stopped looking there when she heard the rustle of clothes and the crunch of snow next to her. She looked over and one of those... undead standing next to her knelt down on one knee. After him another one, and another one. Eventually, everyone she could see was kneeling as if paying homage to her.

Only one figure remained upright, it was different from all the others. Its clothes were not destroyed, its body was not missing anything, it had no wounds or scars. His skin looked like ice. He had the same eyes as all the undead.

But he didn't kneel.

He looked at her intensely until he finally moved towards her, passing the kneeling people. First she wanted to escape, to run somewhere far away, as far away from this disturbing figure as possible, but she didn't move. Her dress was blowing in the wind, as was her partially loose hair, and she remained standing there.
The figure stopped right in front of her, close enough that she could feel its cold breath on her face. Her height reached to his shoulder so she had to raise her head a little to meet his gaze.

All she saw in his eyes was anger. Some inexplicable anger that was perhaps not directed solely at her, but at her entire species, humans.

He raised his hand to touch with its back her cheek, but stopped just before his icy hand was about to make contact with her hot skin. Despite the cold outside, warmth still radiated from her, the fire that burned inside her had not dimmed in the slightest. And this character didn't seem to like it. He smiled mysteriously, maliciously, as if challenging her, and slowly removed his hand.

She blinked her eyes against the damn wind, and at that same moment she was back in her chamber in Meereen. Daario was sleeping peacefully next to her, his arm slung around her waist. Careful not to wake him, she removed his hand and got out of bed. It was warm enough in Meereen that she didn't have to wear anything other than a thin dressing gown - because she didn't want to go out on the balcony naked.

She opened one of the doors and was immediately greeted by the fresh night air. She stepped out and leaned against the railing, breathing heavily. She felt that gaze on her all the time, that cold, cruel gaze, even slightly mocking. She didn't know who it was, but it couldn't be human. Will she come face to face with him? When? Where? Who's that? How to defeat him?
Only questions, no answers.

She knew this dream must have some meaning, she just didn't know it yet. And what's with those dead people who knelt before her? Why? What should she draw from this, what lesson?

She thought about it until she felt short gusts of wind and some squawking on her back. She frowned and turned around. When she raised her eyes to the very top of the pyramid, two dragons appeared to her eyes, next to each other they looked like yin and yang, all black Drogon and white Maelia.

"Drogon... Maelia..." she began, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. "Jurnegon rȳ aōla... Emā mazverdagon sīr olvie..."

*"Look at yourselves... How you have grown..."*