Legacy of Valyria: Maegor’s Glory

-278 AC-

Mera asked eagerly, "How many Dragon Lords survived the Disaster?"

Maegor replied, "Only a few of us. There were several dragon lords who managed to escape from Valyria during the Cataclysm. Dragon Lord Aurion survived the doom and settled in Qohor, styling himself as the Emperor of Valyria. Gathering an army in Qohor, Aurion set out to plunder the ancient lands of Valyria, but he and his army were never heard from again. A few unnamed dragon riders also took courage from the Cataclysm and killed all the remaining dragons."

Mera asked, "So, how many dragons does your family have now?"

Maegor sighed, "As I said, we have no dragons left. Dragons disappeared completely during the time of Aegon III Targaryen. The eggs stopped hatching, and no matter what we tried, the dragons did not return."

Mera continued thoughtfully, "The amount of magic here cannot sustain the existence of a dragon. In fact, it's a paradox. Dragons emit large amounts of magic around them, enhancing the magical environment, but they also require significant magic to grow, and without enough magic, they cannot even hatch from their eggs."

Maegor remembered the dragons hatched by Daenerys in her previous life, "Then how will dragons hatch again if there isn't magic in the environment?"

Mera explained, "Blood magic. We Valyrians used to be shepherds once. With some knowledge we discovered, we hatched Dragon Eggs left over from the Dawn Empire, and then ruled with our dragons."

Maegor asked eagerly, "Will you teach me how to hatch the eggs?"

Mera changed the subject, asking, "Are the Targaryens the only Valyrian family left in Westeros?"

Maegor furrowed his brow, replying, "Their lineage has mingled with Westerosi lords, but there are nearly extinct remnants of two other Valyrian families in Westeros, the Velaryons and the Celtigars."

Mera fell silent, realizing that her only real option was still the Targaryen family.

"You were hollow when I first saw you, filled with voids where magic should reside," Mera said thoughtfully. "It's why my voice struggled to reach you all these years. As our souls have begun to merge, unintentionally, the remaining pieces of my soul have started to fill those voids within yours. Soon, with the Targaryen blood in your veins, magic will flow through you once more. I can teach you our ancient knowledge, but there are conditions."

Maegor felt a surge of joy he hadn't experienced since his paralysis. This was one of his deepest desires: to envision himself like an Avatar, wielding control over elements, or like those in One Piece, using strange powers with a variety of Devil Fruits. Who wouldn't want to be a Bankai user?

"I'll do anything you ask," Maegor pledged eagerly. "Please, teach me."

"Understand, when our souls fully merge, there will be nothing you can hide from me," Mera warned. "I can hear your thoughts, read your memories. If necessary, I can forcefully take control of your body. Remember your oath, Maegor Targaryen, like the ancient Dragon Lords before you."

Maegor began to nod, unsure if Mera could see his agreement. While the merging of their souls worried him, the potential benefits outweighed his concerns.

"You've kept your body in excellent condition, akin to that of a prince," Mera noted. "But how skilled are you in combat? In these years, I've only glimpsed the outside world through your eyes a few times."

"I don't know the extent of your body's strength and mastery. If you want to bring back ancient Valyria, you must be a masterful warrior," Mera stated.

Maegor replied confidently, "Though not widely recognized in the realm, I am among the top ten knights in the land. Only the Kingsguard, Barristan Selmy and Arthur Dayne, could truly challenge me in life-or-death combat. Against all other warriors, I can hold my own."

Mera was pleased with this revelation. It was astonishing, albeit incredible, for a fifteen-year-old to have developed such skill.

"For the Targaryen family, the situation is dire. We may be kings, but our position is precarious. As you will see when our souls fully merge, in a few years, we may not even be kings anymore. In fact, our entire family could be nearly wiped out. I have trained relentlessly since the age of six, solely to protect myself and my siblings, even if it means fleeing," Maegor confessed.

Mera didn't find this strange, considering Maegor's bloodline and the prophetic abilities believed to run in it.

"Has the Targaryen family ever produced a prophet?" Mera inquired.

"Thanks to the prophet Daenys, our family escaped the Doom of Valyria. It was said that our ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, also had prophetic abilities," Maegor revealed.

Satisfied with her thoughts, Mera continued, "Very well, tomorrow we'll spar with knights who can challenge you. I'll instruct you on what you need to learn."

Maegor nodded, exhaustion from the night catching up with him as he suddenly drifted off to sleep. In his dream, he found himself plunging into a blue vortex, evading strange creatures and dodging a colossal sword-wielding inferno.

When Maegor woke, he washed his face and headed towards his family for breakfast. In his mind, he greeted Mera with a "good morning." Around the table sat Rhaella, Viserys, and Rhaegar, enjoying their morning meal. Since the Duskendale incident, Aerys had taken to having breakfast alone in his chambers, rarely engaging in any activities with his family.

Rhaella greeted Maegor with a smile, enduring Aerys's abuses and beatings solely for the sake of their three children.

Rhaegar asked, "Taking on the guards again today, little brother?"

Maegor nodded, saying, "I want to bring Arthur down at least once, brother."

Rhaegar chuckled, "Why not enter a tournament and earn the title of knight? You're one of the best warriors in the realm."

Maegor replied soberly, "The most dangerous weapon is one you cannot see, brother."

Young Viserys, oblivious to the conversation around him, ate his meal, his madness hidden beneath his youthful exterior.

After finishing his breakfast, Maegor asked for leave. Now, he was determined to impress Mera.

Following an exhausting hour-long training session with Kingsguard Ser Arthur Dayne, Maegor collapsed on the ground, breathless and spent.

Mera remarked, "One of the kingdom's top ten knights? Hahaha. From what I've observed, Arthur has at least some talent; he might have even made a name for himself in the Ancient Valyrian arenas. You have talent too, Maegor, but you've been trained in the wrong direction. You won't be able to face our upcoming adversaries with honorable sword techniques."

Maegor nodded in agreement, while his brother Rhaegar began seeking support for himself, discontent with their father Aerys. He thought about the Harrenhal Tournament scheduled for 281 AC. He had three years ahead of him to improve himself.

"Mera, would some Valyrian Lords fall into insanity or paranoia without reason?" Maegor asked.

Mera pondered for a moment. "No Valyrian Lord or Dragon Rider has ever gone mad without cause. Some Princes of the Rhoynar and slave masters of Ghiscar sought ways to deal with powerful Dragon Lords. They couldn't poison them because any suspicion could shatter fragile peace or escalate ongoing wars. They found a solution in Qarth at the House of Undying. The sorcerers of Qarth managed to create a poison they called 'Dragon's Nightmare'. It was a strange poison that affects the mind in the long term, slowly driving its victim mad. Why do you ask, Maegor?"

Maegor furrowed his brow. "Because my father exhibits the symptoms I described. People are starting to call him the Mad King. It weakens our dynasty, and my brother's ambitions don't help either."

"Take me to your father," Mera suggested calmly. "I may be able to determine if he has been poisoned."

Maegor nodded and began walking towards the Iron Throne. As he entered the hall and approached his father, Aerys appeared increasingly mad. He forbade sharp objects even to his guards and his hair was tangled, his nails resembling witch's claws.

Maegor approached him and bowed respectfully. "Dear father, I dreamt of you last night. I saw you wielding our ancestor Aegon's sword, Blackfyre, cutting off the heads of traitors."

Upon hearing this, Aerys burst into manic laughter. "My clever son is here. Your dream is quite true, Maegor. Traitors are everywhere, and I will root them all out. I've found a very talented spy in Essos. Upon my invitation, he will soon arrive to serve me as the Master of Whispers. Together, we will swiftly find and purge the traitors within our kingdom."

Maegor thought, "So it's time for Varys to come." In his mind, he addressed Mera, asking if his father had experienced any poisoning.

Mera responded, "This is a weakened form of Dragon's Nightmare, treatable with the right magical ingredients. Firstly, we need the fruits of the Myrtle plant, which grow in warm climates. Secondly, at least 1 liter of blood from any magical creature, and most importantly, at least 3 sprigs of Blood Lavender. The rest are easily obtainable materials."

Maegor asked, "What is Blood Lavender?"

Mera explained, "It's a rare plant that blooms where the ground has been watered with the blood of those who died in remorse and anger. It has a calming and purifying effect on the mind."

Maegor smiled, saying, "Fortunately, we recently had such a place thanks to my father."

Maegor immediately ordered the guards and the Gold Cloaks in the castle to collect the necessary ingredients. Perhaps if Aerys could be cured, the days ahead could become easier.