The Dragon's Legacy

Chapter Eighty-Two

Sunrise over the never-ending sea...

What could be more beautiful than this? Daemion wondered to himself.

The orange and golden colour of the sun shined brighter than any sunrise had seen in all his years.

This dream had never abandoned him since he had seen it long ago and he did not know why, but it was a beautiful dream...

Perhaps this was Gods way of comforting him or perhaps he simply was going mad at long last, but he did not care... not anymore.

This time it was different.

For the first time, he could see where he stood. He could feel the hard rocks beneath as if he was sitting as she watched the sunrise.

As if he was standing on a cliff, as he was feeling the warmth of the sunrise on his face as the soft wind pushed his long raven hair behind his head.

And what a beautiful sunrise it is...

A sunrise over the never-ending sea...

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Daemion kept thinking of the dream even as he dined with Rhaena and their children, as his son, Valarr, squirmed but yet eagrly devoured his meal, and Visenya leaned her head to Rhaena's shoulder as Rhaena softly kissed her silver hair.

Rhaella calmly only smiled at her family, at her father, her brother, sister and mother.

A fragile peace and contentment had returned to Dragonstone and the hearts of all those who had been affected by the tragedy of Aerea.

But Daemion and Rhaena had not had the chance to truly speak of it for they did not how to. Not truly. But they knew they would have to speak about her sooner than later...

But for now they mended their hearts together along with their family.

And that mending always showed it effect when their fingers intertwined with one another, as they looked into one another's eyes as they held their children in their arms. They needn't speak words, for they knew as long as the other was there to hold the other's hand, they would be just fine.

But it was the entrance of one man in particular that Daemion was not fond of that ruined the moment for him; Androw Farman.

"What is it, Farman?" Daemion questioned uninterested as he picked Valarr off of his lap and gently put his son on the chair next to him.

"My Prince, there is a flit of ships that is arriving at the port." Androw Farman said as he bowed, and while doing so, he looked at Rhaena, to which Rhaena's grip around her butter knife tightened and her beautiful face darkened.

"A fleet of ships? What ships?!" Daemion said confused but as he stood up and walked toward the balcony next to the painted table, it was only then he remembered what this was about.

For weeks he and Rhaena drowned in their sorrow that he had truly forgotten what was coming, and knowing it so, only filled him with uncontrolled rage and what he saw that was floating on the waves broke his face cold as he said. "That bastard will pay for this..."

"Is it what I think it is, beloved?" Rhaena asked coldly as she forcefully let go of her butter knife, as much as she wished to take Androw's eyes out of their sockets, and she walked to her husband's side as she held the bedsheets as a cover, but when her eyes met the sight that Daemion's had, the bedsheet fell down as she said.

It was a singular ship, and at the head of it was a banner. A white tower topped with flames on smoke grey...

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