The Game begins

~~~(Location:Driftmark,westeros)~~~

~~~(Date:22AC)~~~

The banners snapped proudly in the salt-laced breeze, their vibrant colors announcing the celebration to come from Driftmark's shores and spires. their vessels filling the harbor below like floating gardens.

A joyous array of colors announces the celebration to come. From every corner of the realm, lords, and ladies had gathered on the island of Driftmark to pay witness to the union of Prince Aenys Targaryen first son of King Aegon I, and his sister-wife Rhaynes Targaryen, and Alyssa Velaryon daughter of Lord Aethan Velaryon, King Aegon I Targaryen's master of ships.

Not yet a woman, Alyssa nonetheless bloomed with all the promise and beauty of spring. Alyssa had the silvery hair and purple eyes of the Valyrians. curled in intricate braids bedecked with pearls. Around her white shoulders fell a robe of foamy blue samite, trimmed with Myrish lace as soft as the sea foam.

Alyssa looked every bit the blushing bride, though not yet a woman in years. She smiled shyly at her bridegroom Prince Aenys, taking in his handsome features and feeling the promise of a new life they would create together.

As the dragonlord and the sea lord exchanged vows, the crowd erupted in applause, celebrating the union of their great houses and the strengthening of a new dynasty.

King Aegon stood proudly to give his blessing to the couple. "With this marriage, the blood of Old Valyria flows stronger in the veins of your children. May your union be as enduring as the tides, and as fruitful."

As the wedding ceremony under the officiation of the High Septon drew to a close, the celebration was poised to begin in earnest. Prince Aenys and his new bride Alyssa Velaryon turned to face their guests, their hands still joined in unity.

It was then that the High Septon made a surprising demand of King Aegon, who stood attending as father of the groom. "Your Grace, while we celebrate this holy union under the light of the Seven, there remains a dishonor that must be addressed."

The High Septon's frown was directed at Prince Aereys, the younger brother of Aenys. Aereys had sought to honor each of the Seven Gods with a decorative pleasure barge from Lys. But the Septon saw this as elevating carnal superstition over the authority of the Faith.

"Prince Aereys has dared to exalt false idols and disrupt the worship of the one true faith," the High Septon continued. "Worse still, he had the audacity to bring these dens of sin directly to this sacred union, polluting the eyes of the faithful with his heresy."

King Aegon remained stern-faced, not wanting a scene to mar his son's wedding. But to accede to the Septon's demands could damage the fragile cooperation between dragon and sept. In a carefully measured tone, he replied, "Prince Aereys meant only honor, not heresy. No man shall be exiled this day. Come, let us continue the celebration in peace."

The High Septon's eyes blazed with indignation at the King's refusal. He jabbed an accusing finger at Prince Aereys and thundered, "He has polluted the sight of the Seven with carnal symbols! By rights, he should be exiled or face the flames for his heresy!"

All eyes turned to King Aegon, awaiting his verdict.

As Aegon met Aereys' violet gaze, an icy chill ran down his spine. His son's eyes gave nothing away - they revealed no hints of his thoughts or intentions. Behind that impassive stare, Aereys' mind was carefully calculating the moves ahead.

Aereys did not seem perturbed by the situation or judgments being passed. He observed the proceedings with analytical remove as if viewing a battle map and weighing the strategic outcomes. Whatever transpired, Aegon sensed his son had already planned his next steps.

There was no impatience or drama in Aerey's demeanor. He simply awaited the king's decision, giving no sign of how it might be received. But Aegon knew his son too cunning to be bound by any ruling, not of his own design.

Meeting his son's eyes and sensing the turmoil that would follow if he did not act decisively, King Aegon raised his hand and declared, "Enough. Prince Aereys has offended, but exile within the Seven Kingdoms will only breed more discord. Therefore, I decree that Aereys be banished from Westeros..."

Aereys rose calmly as angry shouts rose around him. But the king continued, "...not for life, but for five years. In that time, let him travel to Essos and experience the ways of others beyond our shores. Perhaps in gaining perspective, he will come to appreciate the traditions he was born to."

The High Septon frowned but could find no fault in a limited exile. Aegon looked to Aereys and said sternly, "Five years from this day, you may return. But know that further transgressions will not be tolerated. Do you accept these terms?"

For a long moment, Aereys said nothing. His gaze remained icy and unreadable. Then he inclined his head slightly and said, "As my king commands." But his tone was flat, revealing nothing of his true intentions.

King Aegon knew Aereys and Maegor were too fierce-willed and would never accept Aenys' rule otherwise. Aegon wanted to secure the stability of the new dynasty for at least the next generation.

Five years in exile was more than enough time, in Aegon's estimation, for Aenys to firmly establish himself as king and produce heirs. It would remove the threat Aereys posed in undermining Aenys' claim for now. Protecting Aenys' early reign was Aegon's priority over all else, even his own son.

While most saw it as appeasing the Faith, Aegon agreed to the exile knowing full well it served his purpose of ensuring a smooth transition of power. With Aereys out of the picture temporarily, the disorder could be avoided and Targaryen control maintained over the realm. Five years was the most he could protect Aenys against his brother's falmes for the time being.

As Aereys turned to depart, a sudden shadow engulfed the sun. Gasps rose from the crowd as they gazed skyward in alarm. Meleys the Red Queen had appeared, gliding low over the shore before releasing a mighty roar that shook the very stones of Driftmark.

The massive dragon, one of the largest and fastest of her kind, landed lightly behind Prince Aereys. She lowered her horned head and fixed King Aegon with baleful eyes.

As Meleys landed behind Aereys, all eyes turned upward toward the looming form of Balerion the Black Dread, perched upon a rocky pan of Driftmark like a throne.

King Aegon's Mount Balerion was the largest dragon to ever grace Westerosi skies. At nearly 144 years of age, he was greatly aged, yet his fury still shook the earth.

But Meleys, though only 10 years old, had already grown to an immense size that did not fall far behind the ancient Balerion. Her scarlet scales rippled with muscle, utterly eclipsing her contemporaries.

Meleys let out a piercing challenge that echoed across the waters. When Balerion loosed his answering boom, the younger she-dragon met it with a shriek that rang with unbridled passion and bloodlust.

Flames licked from between their clashing jaws as both beasts were driven to new heights of ferocity. Though smaller, Meleys unleashed her challenge with a striking vigor that seemed to surpass even Balerion in his prime.

The dragons continued to snap and roar at each other, the sky alive with their clashing flames. It seemed they might engage in a dance that could reduce Driftmark to ash.

But then Prince Aerys called out to Meleys. "Peace Meleys This day is for celebration, not conflict."

At the sound of her bonded rider's soothing tones, Meleys gradually stood down from her challenge. Her flames receded and her growls softened into grunts of reluctant acceptance. With obvious effort, she reigned in her ferocious instincts.

Balerion muttered one last thunderous retort before also backing away. The dragons circled overhead, still agitated but keeping a wider berth. The crowd breathed a collective sigh of relief as the crisis passed.

Aereys spared his father no farewell, instead vaulting onto Meleys' back in one smooth motion.

Meleys launched herself skyward with a leap that sent a plume of sand cascading over the guests below. Her wings stretched vast as sails, catching the air to bear Aereys away into the wild blue yonder with naught but his wits and his dragon.

A hush fell over those gathered, faces pale with dread at the display of unrestrained Targaryen power. The growing storm had revealed itself, and none could say when or how it might return to shake the realm once more.

Aerys pov:

For years, Aereys had carefully laid the groundwork for dismantling the Faith's powerful grasp over the kingdoms. All his lavish spending - the feasts, silks, pleasure barges -served a calculated purpose. Though he spent fortunes, not a single gold dragon found its way into the High Septon's hands.

For religion, nothing stirred hatred quite like perceived slights to their coffers. And Aereys had done everything short of donating to insult the High Septon and Faith's treasury. It was no surprise to find the man loathed him so.

Now, the Septon had taken the bait. By demanding Aereys' exile, the first domino had fallen exactly as planned. Aereys suppressed a smile, keeping his expression neutral. It had all played out precisely as he foresaw.

While to outsiders this may seem a setback, Aereys knew it merely advanced his timetable. With luck, his father would bow to pressure and seal Faith's fate sooner than expected. Aereys was content to enact the next stage of his scheme abroad before returning to a weakened realm.

Checkmate was nearer than any of them realized. The game had only just begun.