𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓢𝓸𝓷

Chapter 41 Bandits

The skies above the Free Cities of Essos were clear, with the midday sun casting long shadows over the bustling market town. Aegon who left his home in Westeros, had been in Essos for several weeks, trying to find peace in a foreign land. He wandered through the town's narrow streets, taking in the sights and sounds of the vibrant marketplace.

Merchants hawked their wares, from fine silks to exotic spices, and the air was thick with the scent of roasting meats and the hum of a dozen different languages.

But Aegon's heart was restless. Though he had tried to settle into this new life, the weight of his leaving hung heavily upon him. He missed the familiar shores of Westeros, the cool breeze of Dragonstone, and the sense of belonging that had always eluded him. He had spent his days exploring, learning the ways of the people, and training in the local fighting pits, but nothing had filled the void left by his departure.

As he walked through the marketplace, lost in thought, a sudden, piercing sound shattered the peace. A horn blast echoed through the town, followed by the panicked shouts of the townspeople.

Aegon snapped to attention, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword at his side. He pushed his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning the horizon for the source of the disturbance.

When he reached the edge of the marketplace, the sight that met his eyes was one of chaos. A group of bandits, their faces covered with grimy scarves, had descended upon the town. They were armed to the teeth, brandishing swords, axes, and torches as they looted and pillaged, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. Smoke began to rise as buildings were set aflame, and the cries of the innocent filled the air.

Aegon's blood boiled. He had seen enough senseless violence in his life, and he would not stand by and watch these people suffer. Determined to put an end to the raid, he unsheathed his sword and plunged into the fray.

The bandits were shocked when they saw a single warrior rushing towards them. Aegon moved smoothly and skillfully, slicing through their group with amazing accuracy.

His sword gleamed in the sunlight, cutting through their bodies as he advanced through the town. The bandits, now understanding they had misjudged him, started to hesitate, but they still had a lot of fighters on their side.

Aegon knew he couldn't defeat them all alone. His mind raced as he fought, searching for a way to turn the tide. Then, he remembered: his dragon, Tharion, was not far from the town, resting on a hill overlooking the city. If he could reach Tharion, he could use the dragon's power to drive the bandits away.

With a strong sense of purpose, Aegon pushed through the bandits, each step getting him nearer to his goal. The townsfolk, motivated by his bravery, began to gather, picking up any weapons they could find to defend their homes. But the bandits were tough, and Aegon understood that he had to move fast.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Aegon broke free from the melee and sprinted towards the outskirts of the town. Tharion's scales glistened in the sunlight as the dragon sensed his rider's approach. Aegon mounted the dragon in one fluid motion, his heart pounding with adrenaline. With a mighty roar, Tharion took to the skies, the force of his wings sending dust and debris swirling into the air.

From his vantage point high above the town, Aegon could see the full extent of the devastation. The bandits were still wreaking havoc, but their confidence wavered as they spotted the massive, winged beast circling above them.

Aegon urged Tharion lower, his voice booming as he shouted a warning to the bandits. "Leave this place now, or face the wrath of a dragon!" His words were carried on the wind, amplified by the roaring flames that licked at Tharion's jaws.

The bandits hesitated, their eyes wide with fear as they gazed up at the monstrous creature that hovered above them. Some of them, foolishly brave or desperate, raised their weapons and shouted defiance. But most of them began to retreat, their resolve crumbling in the face of such overwhelming power.

Aegon gave them one last chance, his voice cold and unforgiving. "This is your only warning. Flee, or be turned to ash."

The bandits needed no further encouragement. They scattered like rats, abandoning their plunder and fleeing the town in a desperate attempt to save their lives. The townspeople watched in awe as the invaders were driven out, their savior a silver-haired Targaryen.

When the last of the bandits had disappeared into the horizon, Aegon brought Tharion down to the center of the town. The dragon's massive form landed with a thud, sending tremors through the ground. Aegon dismounted, his eyes scanning the faces of the townspeople as they slowly emerged from their hiding places.

There was a moment of stunned silence, and then the crowd erupted into cheers. The people of the town surged forward, their fear replaced by gratitude and admiration. They gathered around Aegon, thanking him for his bravery, their voices overlapping in a chorus of praise.

Aegon, though he was accustomed to the adulation of the masses, felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He had not only protected these people but had also proven to himself that he could still be a leader, even in exile.

As the townspeople began to tend to their wounded and repair the damage, Aegon looked out over the horizon, his mind already turning to what lay ahead. Essos was vast and full of dangers, but with Tharion by his side, he knew he could face anything.

With a final glance at the town he had saved, Aegon mounted Tharion once more and took to the skies. He did not know where the winds would take him, but he was ready for whatever came next.

I rushed this chapter 😭