New chapter is live.
Settle in, take your time, and let’s see what waits in the dark 🖤 ✦ Aelor still felt cheated that the white hart had left before he could speak to it again.
For one wild moment, he had even imagined climbing onto its back and riding through the Kingswood like a king from some half-forgotten song.
Ser Erryk must have guessed part of what he was thinking, because he said, “If fate wills it, Your Grace, you may meet your friend again.” “I hope so.” Erryk turned the pheasant over the fire.
Aelor accepted the waterskin and took a careful drink.
As the cool water slid down his throat, he remembered the system panel that had appeared before he lost consciousness.
He had not imagined it.
His status opened before his eyes.
[Status] Aelor Targaryen Gift: Dreamer (Gold), Longevity (Green) Bloodline: Old Valyrian Dragonlord (10% and rising) Skills: Literature (Beginner), History (Beginner), Valyrian Language Mastery Relics: Blood and Fire Are One (Fire Resistance +50%) Assessment: “Lucky boy, you made a generous friend.” Aelor froze.
Longevity.
The word struck harder than any blow.
His body had been a cage since birth.
He could not run without choking for air.
Too much excitement left him trembling.
Some days, even walking from one room to another felt like dragging himself through deep water.
The system had once judged him unlikely to live past ten.
Now a new gift sat beside Dreamer.
Green, not red or blue.
Lower than Dragon’s Legacy.
Lower than The Forebears’ Warning.
But to Aelor, it was worth more than either.
His heart was still beating hard from the shock, yet the familiar tearing pain did not come.
His hands were not shaking.
His breath was thin, but it was steady.
A laugh slipped from him.
Then another.
Soon he was laughing so hard that Erryk looked genuinely frightened.
“Your Grace?” “Ser Erryk.” Aelor wiped at the corner of his eye.
“If a man who lived on crutches can finally walk without them, is that not worth celebrating?” Erryk stared at the prince as if trying to decide whether the forest had replaced him with someone else.
If he brought a mad prince back to the king, Viserys might have his head.
Worse, Arryk would never let him forget it, assuming his brother was not dragged down with him.
Aelor’s laughter faded as exhaustion caught up with him.
He lay back on Erryk’s folded white cloak and looked through the branches at the moon.
The system had more to show him.
[Exploration Task] Target: Magical Creature: White Hart Exploration Progress: 100% [Explorer System] Relic collected automatically.
Epic Relic identified: Auspicious Blessing.
Relic activated automatically.
Blessing activated successfully.
[Reward] Longevity Grade: Good (Green) Effect: A blessing from an auspicious beast that fulfills the recipient’s deepest wish.
Assessment: “The red grapes were sweet, but the tart orange suited my taste better.” Aelor’s smile returned.
So that was it.
The white hart had brought him the fruit.
The exploration had completed while he lay unconscious against its side.
The relic it gave was not a weapon, not a language, not a secret of conquest.
It was a blessing.
His deepest wish had not been a crown.
Not then.
It had been breath.
Strength.
The chance to live long enough to do anything at all.
Aelor flexed his fingers in front of the moonlight.
His dark circles had faded.
His chest no longer felt as if a hand were squeezing his heart.
“From tonight onward,” he whispered, “I am no longer a sickly child.” The words were soft, but the conviction in them was not.
“Aelor Targaryen will not die quietly in some bedchamber.
I will leave this world a legend worth singing about for ages.” He closed his fist above him.
“The world will know my name.” Beside the fire, Erryk, who had understood none of the muttered declaration, sniffed the roasting pheasant and frowned.
“Strange,” he muttered.
“It is not burned.” The next morning, Aelor slept against Ser Erryk’s chest as the black horse carried them back toward camp.
“Dragonfire,” he mumbled in his sleep.
Erryk smiled despite the trouble waiting for them.
A Targaryen child dreaming of dragonfire seemed, at least, perfectly normal.
They reached the edge of the royal camp not long after sunrise.
Ser Arryk Cargyll was waiting near the entrance.
The moment he saw them, relief and fury crossed his face together.
“Erryk,” Arryk hissed, striding toward them.
“Where in the Seven hells were you?
The king ordered you to bring Prince Aelor back, not smuggle him into the Kingswood.
Do you know what could have happened?” Erryk sighed.
“Good morning to you as well, brother.” “Spare me the good morning.
The king was furious.
If anything had happened to the prince, they could have hanged you.” “Ser Arryk,” Aelor said.
Arryk stopped at once and bowed his head.
“Your Grace.
Forgive me.
I was not accusing you.” “You were worried for your brother.
I understand.” Aelor sat straighter in the saddle, pale but composed.
“I asked Ser Erryk to take me after Princess Rhaenyra.
The fault is mine.
If the king demands an answer, I will give it.” Arryk looked between the prince and his brother.
Aelor continued, “The matter began with me.
I will bear the consequences.” ✦ ✦ ✦ Want to keep going?
I hope this chapter gave you another reason to stay with the story.
There’s still plenty ahead, and things are only starting to unfold.