The Conquest

Aegon

Scouts reported that two hundred war galleys from Volantis have already sailed. A massive armada of that largeness required hastened band of their own for combat. The council broke with rumble of chaos and the ambassadors of each free city had to disband to return and raise their own army.The Prince of Pentos had departed early with his magisters to prepare their fleet. Soon Aegon would meet him again at his palace, the situation demanded so.

While they were discussing terms of peace, Volantis had stealthily planned an attack that was unprecedented at this stage. Lys lay conveniently closest to Volantis, with sufficient garrison but still vulnerable. And they had chosen ingenious time to strike.

It would take a day to sail from Volantis to Lys, while Pentos, closest to them was two days of sea away. Braavos, another day. By the time all of them could assemble their fleet, Lys would fall. As of that moment another army on foot were marching to Myr.

Qohor and Norvos, two daughters of Valyria and the only ones that were not by the sea side and on the bank of Rhoyne could resist the invasion till rest of their combined militia arrive and at worst, Aegon himself.

But his primacy was securing Lys. He cannot wait for the allied fleet to reach. On his dragon, he will bring fire and blood to the Volantenes.

"Bloody sons of whores." Orys muttered as they were being ferried across the canal. "They knew of this convention and had been waiting." Aegon gave a nod of agreement.

Atop the ragged cliffs, Balerion the black dread was perched, head resting on his extensive dark wings. His red and black scales glinted off sunlight. Even with his eyes close, Aegon knew his dragon was alert. Any false step and he would sweep down, raging fire.

Aegon got off first and proceeded to climb up. Balerion gave out a grungy purr, recognizing his rider and spread out his wings. The hills shook under him and he paused to keep himself steady.The beat of his wings made the men below cower back with fright. He wasn't daunted. He was the spawn of dragons with ancient and pure Valyrian blood.

He recalled his father, Aerion Targaryen riding Balerion into sunrise for parley with the lords of the seven kingdoms. He would return at dusk. Aegon would wait in the highest tower of Dragonstone and when he heard the great dragon roar, he would run down to greet his father.

He learned to ride him shortly after. He was a trained dragon, having served the Targaryens for centuries. When Aegon attempt to climb him, he gently lowered it's head so that the young lad could pull himself up by his horns. Unlike Vhagar and Meraxes who were hatched only years ago and were yet to be tamed, the great beast bowed to them without hesitation.

The flight to Pentos was longer than it was from Dragonstone to Volantis. The widespread clouds and sharp wind was hampering their motion. Aegon could hardly see any thing in blizzard. Forceful gusts of wind were making it hard for him to cling on to the back. It blew south east so the Volantenes would have wind in their sails while they were faced with the opposite of air currant. This would tarry them even more.

He thought about Rhaenys, her silk hair and twinkling eyes. And Visenya's strength and composure. He longed to be home but first he must do this. He had given his word.

Balerion landed on Pentos some time in the evening. The sun has set long before. Aegon paid the Prince and Magisters visit of courtesy where he assured them he will fly out before dawn breaks and retired early.

Come morning, Aegon roused himself from his sleepless bed and called for his attendant to put on his armor. He donned his heavy chain-mails first which reached his knees. Then came his red breastplate, gauntlets and dragon headed helmet. Aegon lifted his visor and checked his vision, he'd be much more comfortable with the heavy metal squeezing his head but he could not risk it. Lastly, he sheathed his sword Blackfyre, a single ruby engraved on it's black neck.

It appeared all of Pentos have arrived to send him off to war. Closest to him were the magisters and other wealthy traders spitting words of courage while rubbing their paunch. Behind the barricade of guards, thousands of men stood, with children on their shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled dragon of Valyria.

With their good wishes, Aegon took his leave. Balerion stretched out his black wings, roared and kicked off the ground sending rocks and sand on the people below. The cheers and shouts died beneath him.

It was still dark and misty with thunder cracking ominously. The winds bellowed around him; he could hardly hear. Balerion's heat kept him warm, the iron were absorbing the warmth. Silently, the glided to Lys.

Aegon could not say when he reached the small island of city surrounded by stormy rocks. After three generation of being under control of Volantis, the Lovely city was free only to be under attack again.

They did not land, rather chose to circle overhead hidden by the dark clouds and fog. If everything went as instruction was given, they must have manned their wall now. Aegon waited in the sky like hawk.

Soon enough, one solitary boat, so small anyone could miss it, hurried across the raging waters. A messenger heralding attack.

Aegon clutched on to the horns. Balerion roared his battle cry; fire shot from his mouth through the clouds and swooped down.

Volantene fleet was two leagues away from coast when their galleys were spotted. Aegon did not wait. With boiling spirit, he spurred Balerion who hissed angrily and dived into battle sphere.

Screams of burnt men and Balerion's screech echoed through the sea. Before they could prepare their scorpions and spears, Balerion lit up the front of their armada. That made the fleet divide as the ships in the middle burnt and sank into the ocean. He then took the right, disappearing into the cloud and coming down heaving fire.

Their spears and arrows were of no use. Those fortunate one that made past the first were deflected off Balerion's scales. Through smoke mingled sky and cries of pain, Balerion returned all ashes to sea.