A White Dragon's Legacy - Sea of Soul's Secrets. (Patreon)

Baelor Targaryen, Somewhere, Somewhen.

The entire room trembled as the twin dragons gave way to the sound of elegant heels approaching the room, getting closer and closer.

The swaying was… hypnotic, clearly feminine, similar to the walk of the Conqueror Queen during her arrival.

"It is a woman, that much is obvious," his father said aloud, making Rhaegel look toward Baelor with evident curiosity.

"What do you think of what we have seen so far, brother? What is your opinion of Aemon?" his beloved brother asked, while continuing to braid his beloved Aelora's hair.

Oh, how Baelor had suffered upon seeing the tragic fate of his beloved siblings. During his time, tragedy had continuously plagued House Targaryen: Baelor's death, followed by his beloved Valarr and Matarys, he witnessed the rise of Aerys, followed by the deaths of Rhaegel and Aelor, and the tragedy of Aelora.

Baelor had trembled with rage for days, helplessly watching the tragic fate of his beloved niece, although undoubtedly the one who had suffered the most was Rhaegel, having to witness the fate of his little girl.

The firstborn son of King Daeron quickly shook his head before sighing and answering.

"Aemon has potential, much more than any of us. He possesses royal blood and had the great privilege of not being raised as a prince. That has forged his character. The opportunity he has… is simply unique. This Magical World is wonderful. I am truly eager to see what wonders our descendant will accomplish in it," Baelor said with a smile, making everyone around him nod softly, at the same time the doors opened, revealing…

"Sister?" Queen Visenya asked in surprise, while standing up with her characteristic elegance and walking toward the entrance of the room, where Baelor got his first glimpse of Rhaenys the Conqueror.

"Visenya," the newcomer said, while looking around her, allowing Baelor to get a good look at her and analyze her completely.

Her silver-blonde hair fell over her shoulders like the finest silk, framing a face of almost unreal beauty, although that was not strange. All Valyrian women were extremely beautiful, without exception.

Her violet eyes possessed a hypnotic depth, serene and proud, as if hiding centuries of dragon blood, although she looked quite confused, looking around warily. It was evident to Baelor that she did not recognize them.

"She does not recognize us," his father said, making his brother Aerys nod softly.

"I imagine not. She died when Aenys I was still quite young, and if the same thing happened to her as happened to Maegor and she has wandered aimlessly all this time, she has not had the privilege we have had," his scholarly brother said, while they quietly listened to Queen Visenya bringing her sister queen up to date.

However, the Conqueror's wife merely looked around in confusion, her gaze focused on Queen Visenya.

"Sister… Where are we? Where is Aegon?" she asked in confusion, while looking at everyone around her.

Visenya sighed and answered.

"I do not know, Rhaenys. I have not seen Aegon since my death, and as for where we are… I…"

However, before Visenya could answer, the Goddess intervened again.

"You are in the Ocean of Souls."

She spoke with that feminine, beautiful, and ethereal voice, filled with simply overwhelming power.

An instant later, a beautiful blue butterfly with silver wings manifested right in the center of the room, flying softly and elegantly and commanding absolute silence throughout the room. The sight alone was… indescribable to Baelor.

"By the Seven!" his grandmother Naerys whispered in astonishment, at the same time the butterfly transformed into the most beautiful maiden Baelor had ever seen in his entire life.

Her silver hair fell over her shoulders like threads of moonlight, making her look like a Valyrian Goddess, while her skin seemed made of porcelain beneath the bluish light. Her golden eyes surveyed the entire room with hypnotic serenity.

Baelor knew perfectly well that he was not looking at an ordinary woman, not even a princess or Queen.

This woman… was something more, something far more important and powerful.

She was dressed in deep blue and black. There was no vulgarity in her beauty, but rather something refined, distant, and majestic, like a creature born from the dreams of the ancient gods.

He looked at her, and his first thought was absurd, but inevitable.

She looks like a goddess.

He could find no other word capable of describing her, and for a moment he wondered if his Valyrian ancestors had been inspired by her when naming the ancient and forgotten Goddesses of the now-extinct Freehold.

And then, the Goddess spoke, looking directly at his grandmother.

"Let me burst your bubble. Your precious Seven are as real as the stupid Drowned God of the idiots of the Iron Islands, false idols created to manipulate weak-minded people. The only deities of Vanaheim are the Vanir, Lords of Forests and Rivers, and the Fourteen Living Flames of the Valyrian Freehold."

The beautiful woman said it with complete naturalness, shocking all the Targaryens present, who stared at her in utter astonishment.

Baelor carefully observed the entire House of the Dragon, making sure to analyze their reactions and expressions. It was not as if it was of much use to him now that he was dead, but the habits he had developed as Hand of the King were difficult to forget.

As expected, the devout Targaryens, such as his grandmother Naerys, Princess Maegelle, and King Baelor, were completely outraged, and had no qualms about expressing it.

"YOU LIE! You are proof of the Seven, a test of our devotion and…"

However, before King Baelor could say anything else, the mysterious woman frowned and merely made a single movement with her hand, with… unexpected results.

Beneath where Baelor I stood, a kind of… pit of darkness suddenly appeared, filled with blood-red eyes and hands made of shadow, which wasted no time grabbing the Targaryen King known as the Saint and beginning to drag him toward the dark abyss.

"AAAHHHG! NO! What is happening?" he screamed in terror, while he was slowly pulled into the darkness before the terrified and cautious eyes of the Targaryens present.

"What is happening? Where are your precious Seven to save your soul from the Ocean of Souls? Where is the Father or the Mother?" the mysterious Goddess asked, with a cruel edge of satisfaction in her voice, while the Saint was slowly dragged into the darkness.

However, before he was completely consumed, King Aegon III stood up, his face filled with desperation at the mere notion of losing his son.

"My Lady, please… I beg your forgiveness on behalf of my son. I promise there will be no disrespect toward the True Gods. You have my word," the man said desperately, pleading with his gaze as he watched Baelor I's body almost completely disappear.

The Goddess looked toward Aegon III with indifference for several seconds before snapping her fingers once more, making the insolent King's body emerge from the darkness and causing the passage toward eternal Darkness to close.

At least for the moment.

"I do not want any more disrespect toward the Gods. For your own well-being, you are here by the grace of my beloved Aemon, and if you spit upon his hospitality, I will send you back to the Ocean of Souls in the blink of an eye."

The woman threatened them, making everyone around her nod quickly.

Seeing that the message had been received, the mysterious woman nodded to herself before focusing on the newly arrived queen.

"Queen Rhaenys, welcome to the Observatory, a Refuge for all the blood of the Dragon, protected far from the cruelty and malice of the Ocean of Souls."

The woman said, making all the Targaryens begin talking among themselves, with the exception of her father.

King Daeron II stepped forward and asked.

"My Lady, if it is not too much trouble… could I ask you a few questions?"

His father's words were met with a warm smile from the Goddess, who merely nodded softly.

"I do not have much time. I will answer one question, Daeron the Good," the woman said solemnly, making his father nod softly as all the members of the House of the Dragon leaned toward the edges of their seats.

His father nodded politely, inhaled deeply, and prepared his question.

"You mentioned a name, Vanaheim, as well as mentioning that the Old Gods and the Valyrian Gods are the only real deities. What do you mean by that name?"

His father's words seemed to surprise the rest of the dragonlords present, who apparently had also overlooked that small detail.

The Goddess looked at his father with surprise, which quickly transformed into evident approval and pride.

"Oh, there is no doubt why you are the second-brightest Targaryen to have ever lived, King Daeron," the Goddess said with a smile, making Baelor laugh as his father turned completely red.

"And answering your question, Westeros and Essos are continents existing within the Realm of Vanaheim, which belongs to the Nine Realms of the World Tree, along with Midgard, the Realm where Aemon is currently located," the Goddess said, much to the intrigue of those present.

However, before they could say anything about it, the Goddess's body illuminated with a white radiance, transforming her body back into a butterfly and disappearing in a shower of sparks of light, but not before saying:

"All your doubts will be answered, Daeron Targaryen. You only need to be patient."

The Goddess's words were accompanied by the illumination of the Sphere once again, showing Baelor and all the Targaryens Aemon once more, staring intently at the beautiful Lady, both looking at each other with such intensity that the sexual attraction between them was more than evident.

"Pfff, that girl is practically fucking herself. I'm sure she'll end up warming Aemon's bed HAHAHA," Aegon IV spat, to the fury of everyone present.

Queen Rhaenys leaned back in her chair with curiosity, crossing her elegant and beautiful legs, leaving quite a bit of skin exposed, although she did not seem concerned about it.

"Oh, look at that… isn't he a delicious salted caramel, Vis? oh it reminds me so much to Torrhen" the Conqueror asked with a purr in her voice, making the Queen in question nod softly, her gaze focused on Aemon's imposing physique.

"He is. I wonder if the Sphere will show us his passionate nights," the Conqueror said curiously, looking directly toward Jaehaerys, who merely sighed and nodded.

"Yes… to my misfortune, the Goddess does not discriminate. I have seen more than I would like to admit," the old King spat, making Princess Saera laugh loudly.

"Oh Father, did you see the celebration orgy I had on your name when I learned of your death then? I lost count after taking twenty squires on my cunt hahaha" said the… complicated woman, letting out a loud laugh upon seeing the old king's expression of agony.

Baelor merely shook his head, truly unable to understand how the relationship between a father and daughter could be so… broken.

However, there were more important things to worry about, such as watching Aemon's life.

The assistants were petrified at such a name, while the young maiden, for the first time in the conversation, hesitated, her eyes opened fleetingly and she quickly controlled her face again and answered.

"How interesting, a Lord Stark appears in the Islands in centuries. News that many of the current "noble" families will not like, my lord. I hope you are ready; the rats may not be strong, but they are numerous," replied the young woman while looking at Jon intensely, with a look of great interest.

"Oh, she is more than interested in Aemon, that is obvious," Rhaenyra Targaryen said with a smile, completely focused on the Sphere.

Queen Rhaenys merely sighed and leaned forward.

"I do not blame her, dear. Have you seen what a man he is? They did not make them like that when I was young," the Queen said with a heavy sigh.

The rest of the Targaryen clan said nothing, focused on Aemon's interaction with this mysterious Lucretia.

Jon nodded and said, "That is not a surprise, my Lady. They are just minor families trying to reach beyond their means, don't worry," at the same time Lord Stark laced his voice with his magic, making everything around him begin to shake, his magic reacting to his feelings and lust.

"What is happening, Muna?" little Daenerys asked, making the old queen caress the princess's hair and answer.

"I don't know, dear," she said with a smile, while they continued watching.

The young maiden also felt the magic emanating from the young lord's voice. The power she felt shook her from within, sending a strange tingle through her belly. But she had her pride. Unlike the weak attendants, her own magic began to challenge Jon's.

The witches around her were overwhelmed. All of them fell to the floor, kneeling at Jon's feet in total submission, trembling with need and crazy looks in their eyes, begging to be looked at.

To be seen and touched by the new Lord Stark.

"What is happening to them? What is going on?" Baela Targaryen asked cautiously, watching with confusion and disapproval as the young witches prostrated themselves like bitches at Aemon's feet.

With the exception of Lady Lucretia, of course, who continued looking directly into Aemon's eyes.

Lucretia knew that he was more powerful than her, but she would not give in without a fight. She was not just another Mudblood who would prostrate herself submissively before a powerful wizard to be fucked like a sex pet. So, against her better judgment, the young woman unleashed her magic as well, making all the clothes in the store begin to shake even more, even making the attendants whimper with need.

When Jon felt the young woman's magic respond—not with submission, but with defiance—a part of him was ecstatic.

The Stark magic recognized a strong and fertile witch, perfect to bring the new generation into the world. The young woman was powerful, with excellent control—far greater than Jon currently possessed over his own magic.

However, another part of Jon, the part burning fiercely inside him, wanted her submission. He wanted her to recognize that he was the strongest and prostrate herself before him.

So, little by little, he began to exert more magical pressure on the beautiful lady.

She responded in kind.

"Oh, by the Gods, is this the magical equivalent of courtship? They are practically fucking each other with their eyes, it is obvious," Aegon II spat, making several people present nod softly.

Daena, the mother of Daemon Blackfyre, looked at him mockingly and replied.

"She is a Lady, stupid. It is obvious that Aemon will not do anything with her, no matter how much he desires her," the woman said with some resignation, although Baelor was not really so sure of that, judging by the gaze of young Lucretia.

Neither was willing to yield. They became so lost in their own world until Madame Malkin called them.

"My lord, my lady, please stop! My girls are trembling at the display of such magical power, and the tremors are damaging my shop! I beg you, please!" the seamstress exclaimed, imploring them from her knees to stop.

Jon immediately stopped exerting magical force on the young woman. Feeling the young lord withdraw his power, she was finally able to breathe a sigh of relief while fanning her red face, and looking at Jon with a face full of lust and need.

"Oh Gods, look at that mess," Aegon V said, making several people around him nod.

"Look at that Lady's face hahaha. I don't know what the hell Aemon was doing, but it is obvious that the woman enjoyed it," Viserra Targaryen purred, making several women nod softly, watching the interaction with amusement.

That had been the most exciting and terrifying experience she had ever felt. A few more seconds, and her magic would have given way beneath the young man's relentless pressure. Her legs trembled, her heart raced, and her breathing came in short, shallow breaths.

Jon looked around at the havoc caused by his recklessness and, with a blush of embarrassment, replied:

"My apologies, Madame. Let me help you."

Without waiting for an answer, he drew his wand and, with a smooth movement, restored everything in the tent that had been damaged to its original position.

The entire Targaryen clan watched what had happened with pride, the men with that masculine pride of seeing the effect Aemon had on witches, and the women admiring the… exquisite specimen that the young prince was.

"This family is very strange. It seems like they want to be able to fuck Aemon," his brother Maekar spat incredulously, making a grimace of agony upon seeing how his own daughters, Rhae and Daella, were also looking at the young Dragon with extreme interest.

"I am much more impressed by his magical skill. Imagine being able to move a wand and repair and organize an entire shop…I wonder if that had a limit, like fixing a castle for example" King Daeron said to himself, while they continued observing Aemon's life.

A second later, the sexual tension between Aemon and Lucretia was broken by the arrival of the young woman's mother, a beautiful woman with an enviable figure. Her way of walking, her luxurious robes… everything about her screamed one single thing.

Power.

"Wow… what a woman," young Prince Daeron whispered, completely blushing and sighing at the vision of near perfection before them.

"Pfff, she is not that special. Her hips are too wide and those breasts are too large," Queen Rhaenyra spat, making her half-brother, Aegon II, look at her incredulously.

"Are you joking? That is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen in my life. Envy is not a good thing," the man said with evident mockery, making Rhaenyra look at him with fury and hatred in her eyes, to which he responded with a loud laugh.

They then watched the first interaction between Aemon and the aforementioned Narcissa, seeing the woman's face change from caution to evident interest when it was revealed that Aemon was a Noble and not just any noble.

But a Noble of the Noble and Ancestral House Stark.

"I like that title, Noble and Ancestral House. Aemon should use it in Westeros, the Noble and Ancestral House Targaryen. It sounds glorious," his nephew Aerion said, lost in his delusions, making Baelor sigh heavily.

Lady Narcissa nodded and, with a graceful movement, paid with Gringotts paper money, just as Jon had done earlier.

As she turned to leave, she said her farewell to Jon.

"It was nice meeting you, Lord Stark," the older woman said politely.

Her daughter followed with a smile.

"It was nice meeting you, my Lord," Lucretia purred with a smile, her eyes traveling from Jon's head to his feet before she gave him a small, mischievous smile.

Jon merely nodded before replying.

"The pleasure was mine, Lady Lucretia. I hope we can have a more in-depth conversation at Hogwarts."

With another smile, the young woman left the shop alongside her mother.

Jon watched them disappear through the entrance before he could only shake his head, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"What a woman," he said to himself.

"Hahahaha, look at that. The young Dragon seems to have his priorities quite clear," Prince Baelon said, earning a smack from his Lady wife, Princess Alyssa.

After the interaction with the young Malfoy and watching the young women working in the clothing store fondle Aemon a little more, Baelor and company watched the young Dragon continue with his shopping, quite interested in seeing his stroll through the magical place, all of them envious of the wonderful adventure Aemon was experiencing.

Everyone, including Baelor, truly wished to be in the young Dragon's place, but being honest with himself, the firstborn son of Daeron II Targaryen was genuinely happy for young Aemon.

If anyone deserved this opportunity, it was undoubtedly him. Baelor could only shake his head at the thought of how difficult it would be to grow up as a bastard, especially after Daemon's rebellion.

Although the Sphere had not shown it, Baelor was intelligent enough to know that Aemon's life had not been easy and that, thanks to the Gods, he had grown up as a noble young man.

They watched his visit to a pet shop, both mundane and magical, and the entire Targaryen clan could observe for the first time some of the less dangerous magical beasts of this magical world.

Some were beautiful and majestic, birds of beautiful colors that sang beautiful melodies and moved around the shop leaving a trail of magical dust, while others…

"Fuck, that is the fattest cat I have ever seen in my fucking life," Maekar spat incredulously, a sentiment shared by everyone upon seeing these… Kneazles.

"They look like those… Tigers that the turn cloak Velaryon cunt mentioned in his stories," little Joffrey spat with a frown, undoubtedly still furious over the… statements of the Lord in question.

Baelor watched as Lady Laena and her daughters looked at the little prince with frowns, but they did not dare say anything about it.

Then, everyone watched in wonder as Aemon spent a small fortune acquiring magical beasts of all kinds for the enigmatic Wolf's Den, although it was not as if he had to worry about gold, to be honest.

Aemon acted cleverly, acquiring both magical and Mundane beasts, crowning the purchase with a beautiful specimen of a bird unknown to Baelor, some kind of white-plumaged hawk.

One that, of course, had to be named after something related to ice, snow, or the North, he thought with amusement upon hearing the bird named Frostwing.

"How original, a Stark naming something like an ice cube," Jacaerys said with a heavy sigh.

"What do you mean, my son?" Rhaenyra asked, making the young prince blush and answer.

"Cregan and Sara had a pair of hunting hawks, also named after things related to winter and cold. It seems to be a Stark curse," the prince said, making several people snort with amusement, watching as Aemon paid for the beasts, which would be delivered to Wolf's Den in two days, making the young Dragon nod and leave the shop, encountering Professor Snape, and both heading to meet this… Samuel.

"Lord Stark, I hope you've finished your shopping?" without taking his eyes off Frostwing, who looked back at the professor without any fear.

Jon nodded softly and said, "I had an interesting encounter with a young lady at Madame Malkin's, quite beautiful and powerful."

The man snorted and chuckled while the professor simply raised an eyebrow without comment. Jon continued, "And I bought Frostwing," while with a gesture he pointed to the bird still on his shoulder, who did not seem to be in a hurry to move.

Snape replied, "A magnificent falcon, native to the Northlands. Take good care of him." With a gesture, the Professor pointed to the man and continued, "He is Mr. Anderson. He lives in a small town in Surrey, called Cranleigh, 10 minutes from where Wolf's Den is known to be, and an hour from Little Whinging, which is the nearest settlement of Muggles of considerable size."

Jon bowed his head slightly and spoke, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson. My name is Jon Stark," politely.

"Oh, look at that! So handsome and well-mannered, just as a prince should behave!" Queen Helaena said with a dreamy look, while gently caressing young Jaehaera's head.

At those words, Aerion could not help but snort and spit out.

"He is showing weakness. He is superior to the old man. He should be grateful to serve a Noble like Aemon," his stupid nephew said as usual, without using his brain.

"Oh yes, because that ended so well for us, right? Reduced to a couple of exiles and a prince hidden as a bastard," Princess Alyssa spat with fury and contempt toward her nephew, who merely grimaced uncomfortably.

The man seemed surprised at the respect shown on Jon's part. After a moment, he composed himself and replied in the same tone of voice, "The pleasure is mine, Lord Stark. My name is Samuel Anderson. It's a pleasure to meet you. Albus asked me to help you adapt to the non-magical side of these lands."

Jon replied, "I appreciate your support. As soon as we finish eating, we can leave. I have many questions, and I hope you will support me with some answers." Jon finished with a small smile.

Samuel raised an eyebrow curiously without saying anything, until he nodded slowly and said, "It will be a pleasure, my lord. If I can help you, I will do it without any problem."

Baelor nodded to himself, pleased with Aemon's attitude.

"If he can balance his kindness with strength and firmness, he will be a great King," Daeron II's eldest son said, making several people around the table nod softly.

"The old fool Albus told me that you have a Portkey to get to the Stark lands, boy. Is that correct?" he said abruptly.

Jon nodded slowly and said, "That's right. It can't take us directly to the castle because I haven't linked my magic to the fortress, but it will leave us pretty close."

Samuel nodded slightly and replied, "Understood. The village where I live is quite close to the castle. I'm sure you can find it from there. I can wait for you there if you want privacy, since it's the first time you'll see your family's ancestral home, or I can accompany you and visit the village from your home so that you can get acquainted with it. What decision will you make?"

Jon replied, "We can go to the castle first to drop off my things and then pay him a visit to the village. I can explore my home another time. I don't need to do it right now, so when you're ready, we can go."

Samuel nodded and said, "Then let's not waste any more time, boy, and let's go. We have to take advantage of the daylight after all." Laughing to himself, he stood up and, with a dry tone, spoke to Professor Snape. "Let's go. Tell Albus not to worry. I'll talk to Lord Stark about the obligations on the Muggle side." And without waiting for an answer, he stood next to Jon.

Jon looked at Professor Snape and said, "Thank you for your support today, Professor. See you on Monday to start lessons," while bowing his head in respect.

"Making allies and cultivating friendships, excellent, especially considering that he is completely alone," Queen Alyssane said distractedly, observing the image with great attention, the proud smile more than evident to everyone.

Professor Snape replied, "I hope for an outstanding performance, Lord Stark. Have a good day," as he stood up and disappeared on the spot.

Samuel snorted while muttering under his breath, "Smug bastard," looked at Jon and said, "When you're ready, boy."

Jon nodded, grabbed him by the shoulder, and said clearly, "Wolf's Den," as they both disappeared from the establishment, bound for the ancestral home of House Stark.

"Finally, we will see this magical castle of the Wolf Lords. In my opinion, it will be a disappointment," his nephew said stupidly, causing snorts from different people around him.

But Baelor was genuinely excited to see Wolf's Den. Something told him that, from now on… Aemon's adventure would become much more interesting.

He could hardly wait.