Aelora Targaryen, known as "The Golden Child," was born of secrets and trained as a hidden weapon. Raised amidst prophecies and held back by her family's ambition, fire, and blood, she lived a life shrouded in mystery. Across the realm, Benjicot Bla...
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ACT I: Chapter one
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There are teeth marks on everything I love. I don't know how to show love without hurting others. I drove everyone away; that's why I was sent away. Torn from my mother's arms as a babe, I grew up without her warmth, her voice, her love. I was a mistake, an unwanted child people told me, did my mother or father even care enough to love me? Why haven't they tried to visit or send ravens to check on me? Do they even know I'm alive or care whether I'm dead or alive?
These thoughts devoured me daily, tugging at my heart. My earliest memory is of being on Dragonstone, the cold and distant island where I was raised by caregivers who were more like guards. I have no recollection of my mother's face or her touch. Every memory of home, if I can call it that, is tainted with rejection and abandonment. I long for even a whisper of affection, a sign that I mattered. Yet, the silence from King's Landing is deafening, and the loneliness of Dragonstone feels like a prison of my own making. In my loneliness, I question everything: my worth, my existence, and whether I am truly loved or merely forgotten.
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Aelora walked along the halls of the castle of Dragonstone, her footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone floors. The silence that surrounded the castle was unsettling; it was too quiet, an eerie silence that seemed to press in on her from all areas.
As she wandered, lost in her thoughts, the oppressive quiet began to seep into her mind, stirring her anxieties. Just as she felt the weight of solitude threatening to overwhelm her, she was suddenly distracted by the murmur of many voices. The sound grew louder, breaking the ghostly silence and pulling her back to the present moment.
Aelora turned the corner quickly, drawn by the shift from a civil conversation to a heated argument. Intrigued by her curiosity and craving a taste of normalcy amidst the disorder of her life, she began to eavesdrop.
Elinda's voice, typically calm and soothing, now carried a tone of both fear and steady resolve. "I refuse to force the girl to choose between war and death," she declared firmly to the guard, her words echoing down the corridor. "It's too much responsibility for her. She grew up within these castle walls. As her primary caregiver, I will not allow you to return her to King's Landing, a city on the brink of chaos and destruction."
The guard remained passive, his expression revealing nothing as he replied, "I am following orders."
"Whose orders?" Elinda demanded, her voice rising with a mix of anger and fear. Once Rhaenyra's youngest and kindest lady-in-waiting, Elinda had been sent to Dragonstone to protect Rhaenyra's only daughter. She had left behind her life in King's Landing to dedicate herself to raising and safeguarding Aelora. "We have kept her sheltered because of her parentage. Now, you want to take her back to the very place that led to her parting in the first place. It's irrational and cruel."
