Chapter 12

Following the familiar voice, she slowly came to her senses. Her vision cleared, and she glanced at her brother. Her eyes widened as she saw the sword.

"Brother!" she called out, recognizing the sword as his and realizing he had saved her.

She stared at the boar in disbelief. "Aerion, did you really just save me? But how can you be this strong?"

Aerion's voice sharpened. "Sister, you seriously underestimate me, but that's not the point." He quickly changed his tone as he scolded " How dare you run off into the forest after a small argument?"

Rhaenyra stammered, "That... I didn't run away.." She wanted to mention Ser Criston Cole's protecting her and she was fine, but knew she couldn't after what had happened.

Aerion let her sit comfortably before turning to Criston Cole. "Bang!" His punch was so fast Cole couldn't react. It dented Cole's armor and sent him to the ground.

"Brother, no! It wasn't his fault!" Rhaenyra shouted.

Ignoring her pleas, Aerion grabbed Cole by the head, forcing him to look him in the eye. "You know what that punch is for, don't you. But if you're so stupid as to not realize, let me remind you: it's for forgetting your obligations under the Oath, basic knightly duties, and not leaving markings for others to find you."

Aerion released a sliver of his draconic aura, making Cole tremble in fear. "The next time something like this happens, you'll share the same fate as the boar or something much more worst."

Turning back to Rhaenyra, he spoke seriously. "Rhaenyra, regardless of one's title or status, one must answer for their actions. Part of the reason he's in this situation is because of you."

Rhaenyra wanted to protest, but Aerion continued, silencing her. "Sister, know this: if it were anyone else in my stead, putting the heir to the Iron Throne in danger alone would be enough to cost Ser Cole to lose his head."

"Aerion, it's not that serious. He was protecting me," Rhaenyra defended Cole.

"No, sister. He tried to protect you and failed to do so, and by default, he failed in his duty," Aerion corrected.

He looked at her sternly. "Power and privilege come with great duty and responsibility. You seem ignorant of both."

Following the incident, they decided to stay put for the night, considering it too risky to venture back to camp under the cover of darkness.

As dawn broke over Westeros, Ser Harrold, Ser Criston Cole, and Rhaenyra finally succumbed to sleep. Meanwhile, Aerion stayed awake, or more precisely, meditated.

He immersed himself in his mental space, where one of his rewards—a mysterious book—was at work. Although he didn't fully understand its capabilities, he knew the book analyzed and recorded all the knowledge and experiences he had acquired, including memories inherited from the Memory Orbs.

Last night, he delved into the memories of the TV series and the world of Game of Thrones he inherted from the Memory Orb. While the yield wasn't extensive, he managed to gather pivotal events that would ignite the brutal civil war and identify both open and hidden enemies of his house.

The previous night's events heightened his awareness of his family's vulnerability, leading him to resolve to increase vigilance. He carefully examined his memories, understanding their significance. Aerion recognized a slew of enemies, including the Hightowers and their allies, as well as the daunting threat posed by the maesters. Unlike obvious enemies, the maesters held a covert sway, deeply rooted in the realm's knowledge and power.

Their research on dragons and suspected covert actions against House Targaryen left Aerion uneasy. Reflecting on past experiences with the maesters, he grew suspicious of their motives, particularly regarding the deaths of House Targaryen members, including his mother's demise.

"Aerion... Aerion!" Rhaenyra's urgent voice pulled him out of his thoughts. She stood with Ser Harrold and Ser Cole, worry apparent on her face. "Is everything alright, brother?" she asked.

"Not quite, but it will soon be," he responded with resolve. Rising to his feet, he cast a brief glance at his sister before mounting his horse, ready to leave.

They rode back, with Aerion and Rhaenyra leading the way side by side and the Kingsguard flanking them slightly behind. From the previous night to the present, the trio's perception of Aerion had noticeably changed.

Rhaenyra's eyes sparkled with awe and curiosity, while the two Kingsguard looked on with wonder, fear and astonishment.

Soon, they arrived at an open area, standing there as they gazed into the distance where they could see the camp.

"Rhaenyra, is it truly the Iron Throne you seek?" Aerion asked suddenly, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon.

"Why do you ask, brother?" Rhaenyra queried in return.

"Sister, just tell me the truth. And please, don't give me an answer influenced by what others have told you or your duty as heir, but your heartfelt thoughts," Aerion implored, turning to face her.

Their eyes met, and the atmosphere grew heavy. Rhaenyra took a deep breath and replied with equal gravity, "Brother... I don't know if it's truly the Iron Throne that I seek... But I do know I seek something—some sort of power or purpose. The only thing that has shown me a path to achieve that is the Iron Throne."

"So, you want the Iron Throne, to be the first queen of Westeros and the Targaryen dynasty," Aerion stated softly yet firmly.

After a brief silence, she responded with a determined tone, "Yes."

Suddenly, Aerion sensed something—a soft magical fluctuation. Unlike the violent magic of dragons, this one was pure and peaceful. Just then, a white stag, a symbol of nobility and royal power in these lands before the Targaryen dragons, stepped forward fearlessly.

Aerion knew in this world omens couldn't be casually disregarded, and the white stag appearing before Rhaenyra wasn't mere coincidence.

While both Kingsguard were ready to draw their swords, Rhaenyra stopped them with a glance. The stag didn't linger, turning and leaving as quickly as it had arrived.

"Sister, our father has been trying to build a red carpet path for you to the Iron Throne, trying his best to keep you away from all the wind and rain. So tell me, do you want to ascend the throne and become a queen chosen by the king, or do you want to walk out on your own, feel the wind and rain, and become the queen chosen by the people and the kingdom?" Aerion asked.

"What's the difference? Either way, I can only be queen if my father wills it," Rhaenyra asked.

"There is a huge difference. It's like the difference between a potted plant and an ancient tree. The potted plant looks full of vitality but dies the moment it's no longer cared for. Meanwhile, the ancient tree has survived the harsh jungle with thick roots, many branches, and a strong trunk, able to withstand even the strongest hurricanes," Aerion explained.

Rhaenyra had a thoughtful expression as she considered his words. "I think I will choose the second option and carve my own path."

"Then I hope you change, sister. You should think like a ruler and be ready for a bloody path ahead. But worry not; as long as you don't let me down, I will be your sharpest sword and strongest shield," Aerion promised seriously.

Rhaenyra looked at her determined brother and asked, "So where do we start?"

"We start from the basics. You will learn to defend and attack. You will learn to walk among the people and think like one. You will learn to be kind to your people and ruthlessly bloody to your enemies," Aerion declared, looking in the direction where the white stag had departed.