the great war

we light the way

The doors of the private chamber creaked as they slowly opened, revealing the somber, dimly lit room where the remains of dragons lay in eternal silence. The bones, yellowed with age, were positioned with solemn dignity around the chamber, relics of a time when Moresnet's skies had been ruled by these mighty creatures. Hope felt a chill settle in her bones as she stepped inside, the air thick with the weight of history and loss.

At the far end of the room stood King Viserys Mikaelson, his figure shadowed in the dim light. His face, once strong and regal, now bore the wear of years and burdens too heavy to carry alone. His eyes were downcast, the years of mourning reflected in the deep lines of his face.

-Come, Hope. He said softly, his voice rough with an emotion Hope couldn't quite place. She stepped closer, her heels clicking softly against the cold stone floor.

-I'm sorry. King Viserys began, his voice faltering slightly. I should have seen it sooner. Should have seen you sooner. I've doubted you, Hope. I didn't believe you were the right fit to become queen. But now, I see what you are. And what you're capable of.

Hope stood still for a moment, unsure of how to respond. She had longed for her grandfather's approval, but this sudden admission caught her off guard. Her eyes drifted to the massive dragon skeletons surrounding them, their ancient forms a reminder of the power that had once flowed through her family's veins.

The king took a slow breath, steadying himself before he spoke again. -Tell me, Hope. Why do you think we, the Mikaelsons, have the dragons?

Hope looked at him, her gaze steady, not flinching under the weight of his question. She glanced at the skeletal remains that surrounded them, a visible representation of the legacy that had shaped the kingdom. She felt the tension of the room, the pressure of the past and the future bearing down on her shoulders.

-Everyone thinks Mikaelsons are closer to gods than to men. Hope said, her voice calm yet unwavering. -They say that because of the dragons. They say our blood is divine, that we have power that others don't. But the truth is, without them, without the dragons, we're just like everyone else. Less, even.

She stepped forward, her eyes locking with her grandfather's. -The dragons make us more. Without them, we are just people—no better than the lords in the court, no better than anyone else who lives in the shadow of Moresnet's walls.

Viserys replied -You will be sworn tomorrow by all the Lords, as my one and only heir. But before that, I must tell you something, a secret passed from king to king. Now, I will tell you. Aegon the Conqueror's dreams.

Viserys's voice lowered, a heavy weight to his words.

-Aegon the Conqueror... he had a dream. Not just any dream, but a vision, one that he believed was meant to guide our house. A dream of a coming darkness, a great threat to the realm, one that could only be defeated if the blood of House Targaryen, the Song of Ice and Fire, was united.

Hope's brow furrowed. -A dream of darkness? What do you mean, grandfather?

Viserys shifted in his seat, the air around them growing heavier with the ancient knowledge he was about to share.

-Aegon saw it in the flames, in the skies, in the very blood of our house. The Song of Ice and Fire... it is the key to saving the realm, Hope. The Mikaelson's have long held the burden of this prophecy, but it is now yours to bear as well.

Hope's eyes narrowed, her curiosity piqued but also laced with doubt. -But what does it mean? 

Viserys met her gaze with the weight of centuries behind his words. "It is a legend, yes, but it is also a warning. The Song of Ice and Fire is not just a story of fire and blood—it is a story of balance. A power that can either unite the realm or destroy it. You, Hope, you are part of this tale. You are the heir, and you must decide how to wield this legacy, this burden.