From Storms to Thrones (Part 1)

The landscape blurred beneath us as the Cannibal carried me away from Rook's Rest, his massive wings cutting through the early morning air with steady, powerful beats. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting long shadows over the land, but I could hardly take in the beauty of it. My thoughts were back at Rook's Rest, with Rhaenyra.

The moment I had pulled away from her lingered in my mind, her words echoing in my ears as if she were still beside me.

"Just because you survived Rook's Rest does not mean your promise no longer holds true," she had said, her voice a quiet command, a plea to come back to her wrapped in the guise of regal authority.  It was as if she was both demanding my return and fearing that I wouldn't.

As we flew further away, the distance between us growing with every passing second, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was leaving something vital behind. The trust she had placed in me was immense, a burden I hadn't realized I would feel so deeply. Rhaenyra was a queen—a warrior, strong and fierce—but in those final moments before I left, she had been something else as well. She had been just a woman, hoping against hope that I would return to her, that I wouldn't leave her to face the chaos alone.

A part of me wanted to turn back, to assure her once more that I would come back. But I couldn't. The Cannibal had made it clear that this journey was one I had to take, one that would lead to the answers I'd been seeking since the moment I arrived in this world. Still, as the land stretched out beneath us, I couldn't help but feel that with every mile, the bond between Rhaenyra and me was being tested.

The Cannibal's voice rumbled through my mind, pulling me from my thoughts. "You're thinking of her."

I didn't answer immediately, the admission too raw, too close to the surface. Instead, I glanced down at the landscape, the forests and rivers of Westeros slowly giving way to rocky terrain and desolate plains.

"I don't like the thought of leaving her behind," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

"She will be fine," the Cannibal replied, his tone firm, as if trying to reassure me. " The Dragon Queen is strong."

"I know," I said, the words feeling hollow. "But what if...?"

"She trusts you," he cut in, his voice a deep, steady presence in my mind. "And you must trust yourself. You have set her on the right path. You have given her the strength she needs. Now, you must find your own."

The Cannibal's words settled over me, a reminder of the responsibility I carried. I wasn't just fighting for myself—I was fighting for her, for the future she represented. But the fear lingered, gnawing at the edges of my resolve. What if I didn't come back? What if I failed her?

As if sensing my doubts, the Cannibal continued, his voice softening slightly.

"The answers you seek will not be easy to hear, but they will give you the strength to face what lies ahead."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me, the motion more for myself than for him. I had to trust that this journey, as daunting as it seemed, was the right choice. I had to believe that whatever lay ahead in Valyria would be worth the pain of leaving Rhaenyra behind, even if just for a short while.

We flew on in silence, the landscape below us growing more barren, more desolate with each passing mile. The green fields of Westeros gave way to rocky outcroppings and jagged peaks, the air growing thicker, hotter, as we neared our destination. The sun climbed higher in the sky, but its warmth felt distant, its light dimmed by the oppressive heat that radiated from the earth below.