IX. red visions

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The wind gently blowed her silver hair, which already had traces of blood on it, as well as on her neck which was exposed from the armor.
In her right hand she held Soultaker, also bloodied from the previous battle.
Palpably in front of her, she saw several bodies cut up like the meat she had eaten the day before.
Her body was already incredibly tired, she could barely hold on to her legs, which were buried in the slippery mud.
Vermithor appeared in the sky above her, flying innocently as if he hadn't burned dozens of soldiers a moment ago.
Daella had no idea where they fought, all around her were massive hills with no trees or life.
"We executed the prisoners like you commanded, Princess." declared the soldier who appeared next to her without her noticing, just as exhausted as she was.
He had silver-gold hair, just like her, only his eyes were green.
Like Daemon's, she thought.
However, this warrior was not him.
Daella blinked and was already somewhere else entirely, in another climate, in another year.
She knew that it was not the same timeline.
Her hands were clean, instead of armor she was wearing a long dark blue dress.
She felt different. As if she was invisible to everything that was around.
Invisible even for trees, river and rocks.
In front of her stretched a dark castle of great dimensions.
The castle was burned, lifeless.
It looked like it was going to rain.
Not far from her was the old white tree of The Old Gods.
Daella decided to approach it before it started raining, wondering where she could be.
However, her mind was clouded, without a single sensible thought.
All she could hear was the dragon's roar, high above her. She didn't have a chance to see which dragon it belonged to, but she was sure it wasn't hers or anyone else's she knew.
The dragon sounded like it was fighting, but also crying at the same time.
She couldn't listen to it.
It reminded her of scratching a table with her fingernails.
The ground above her seemed to come alive and Daella collapsed beneath her.
The inside of the ground was wet, but at the same time the black branches and root of the tree were dry, as if every moment they would split in half.
There were an incredible number of other tunnels underground.
In front of her stood a man with a wrinkled face and a minimal amount of gray hair.
Unlike the other one, this one had a red eye.
One eye.
"The chosen time will come with a long winter that will bring death. Death. Death-" Daella dreaded his tone, his presence.
When she noticed that he wanted to pull her into one of the roots behind him, she ran.
She ran into the nearest tunnel, her hands holding her dress that felt so heavy on her body.
At the end was an old wooden door, rooted in the ground.
It took her a long time to open them, but when she finally did, she fell forward.
The first thing she heard when she hit the ground was the sound of the storm behind the huge stone walls.
Behind the walls she knew so well.
It was the first place of all four that she knew.
Although the furniture was changed, the paintings on the walls remained the same.
Daella rose to her feet, wearing a plain cut white dress.
It wasn't until the storm subsided that she heard an equally terrible sound.
The cry of a woman giving birth.
Daella immediately ran to the bed where three midwives and one Maester were standing.
It was a woman of the same origin as she was.
A Targaryen.
She didn't know her, she had no idea who she was, but her silverly hair and Valyrian beauty told her enough.
After a short silence, there was a child's cry that echoed from the Maester's hands.
He handed the tiny baby to the mother who looked very weak.
"It's a girl, Your Grace." he said quietly.
Despite the immense pain, the woman looked at her baby in her arms with a huge smile.
The image in front of her suddenly blurred and Daella was once again at the scream of another woman.
It was extremely dark, the room was no longer damp or cold, but full of dark energy that she felt deep in her body.
A woman was screaming with a child in her hand, Daella could not see her face.
There were three cots near them, but only one of them was occupied by the two men.
The woman grabbed the second child from the third crib and ran out of the room screaming.
The men stayed in the cozy room and concentrated on the baby in the crib.
As Daella approached the cot, one of the men pounced on her and smiled mischievously at her with a sharp knife in his hand.
The next thing she felt was the thorn of the knife stuck between her ribs under the white dress.
Before she lost consciousness, she saw the two monsters evaporate from the room with a sack in hand.

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