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 II: Chapter 3
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Love is such a complex and messy affair. It can stain one's mind, and even bring about its ruin. However, if your heart remains true, in time, you will overcome the chaos and the stains. You'll find that you have grown accustomed to them, finding strength in the very mess that once seemed overwhelming. Over time, you will become accustomed to its challenges, emerging stronger and more resilient.
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The rain fell in relentless sheets, mirroring the storm inside Aelora's heart as she and Benjicot flew on Hellfyre through the rough skies over the Riverlands. They were searching for any sign of the Greens, both of their eyes scanning the landscape below for movement, banners, or anything that would give out any sign of their presence. Aelora's heart ached with a mixture of fear and determination, her thoughts in a knot of worries about their mission and the relationship between her and Benjicot.
"Over there," Benjicot pointed, Aelora then made Hellfyre land by a small clearing near the river. The dragon descended gracefully, and they dismounted, their boots sinking into the muddy ground. Hellfyre took off again, lifting off and back into the sky to scout the surrounding area.
Aelora watched the dragon disappear into the fog, feeling a momentary ache of loneliness without its reassuring presence. She turned to Benjicot, his face set in a grim expression as he surveyed the landscape. "We need to be careful," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "The Greens could be anywhere."
"I know, Benji," Aelora said softly, placing a hand on his arm. "But we can't live in constant fear. We have to stay strong, for our people and for each other."
Benjicot nodded, but his eyes remained distant. "You're right," he replied, though his voice lacked conviction. "It's just hard to focus with everything that's happened, the last thing I want to do is be forced to spill blood in front of you."
Before Aelora could respond, a sudden rustle in the bushes made them both tense, Benjicot's hands instinctively reaching for his sheathed sword. Out of the shadows emerged Aeron Bracken, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of smug satisfaction and malicious intent. "Well, well," he snickered, "if it isn't the happy couple."
Benjicot stepped in front of Aelora, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword. "What are you doing here, Bracken? This is Blackwood land."
Aeron's smile widened, his gaze flicking to Aelora. "I'm merely passing through I lost a horse over here so trust me it wasn't by choice. But I also couldn't resist the opportunity to see how my dear old friend is getting along."
