The Crow Lord - The true master of the Skies. (Patreon)
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Harrys Potter,Somewhere – Daeron’s Mind.
This… this was very different from what he had just seen.
“Are you sure this is the way, Harrys?” Daeron asked timidly, the young prince clinging tightly to young Lord Potter’s hand, still trembling from the traumatic experience he had just endured.
“I’m not, but we can’t go back, can we?” Harrys said calmly, his hand brushing against the smooth, gray walls of the staircase down which they had descended for longer than he cared to count.
Little Daeron remained silent for a long time before whispering a few words that made Harrys stop dead in his tracks.
“I… I’m sorry for being such a useless good-for-nothing,” Daeron said, a look of regret and fury on his face as tears streamed down his cheeks.
Harris silently observed the little prince, finding it extremely difficult to comprehend just how different this child was from the King Daeron Targaryen he knew.
There was not a trace of that cold, calculating, and distant attitude that characterized the monarch whom the entire realm had grown accustomed to obeying, a brilliant and efficient man, but also somewhat detached, at least to anyone who was not a Targaryen.
There was not a single trace of the King. What Harrys saw around him was simply a child, that simple.
A noble child.
Kind-hearted.
Helpful and well-mannered.
Harris could not help but wonder what had happened to transform such a noble soul into the cold and cruel man he would one day come to know many years later. It was obvious that… something or someone had manipulated the King’s mind, but Harrys had no idea to what extent.
He had to reach the Monarch’s memories, discover the origin of the trauma, and help Daeron break free from the yoke of whatever was keeping him here.
Although that was much easier said than done, Harrys thought with a grimace of discomfort.
“Don’t worry, Daeron. I understand that facing the demons of the past is something extremely difficult. Believe me, I know that better than anyone,” Harrys said with a grimace of discomfort and a distant look in his eyes.
“You lost someone too? Who?” the child asked curiously, looking at him with those innocent eyes that Harrys could not associate with someone like Daeron Targaryen, before nodding gently and answering.
“Aye, my mentor, and my brothers and sisters. My father too, although I never knew him. He gave his life for my mother and me, which is why he will always have my respect,” Harrys said softly, his face filled with pain as they reached the bottom of the stairs.
At those words, Daeron looked away, his entire attention fixed on the ground, unwilling to look Harrys in the eyes.
“You were lucky. Your father loved you so much that he gave his own life for you. Mine was alive… but he hated me,” he said softly, opening his heart to Harrys, who could only nod gently before answering.
“It was always known that the Unworthy was a despicable man. But I imagine that, from the perspective of his own son, the trauma must have been much greater. It must have been hard for you,” he said softly, feeling compassion for the young prince, who merely nodded in silence, lost in his thoughts.
Daeron’s face was filled with conflict. He clearly wanted to express many things, things he had repressed for a very long time.
“I used to cry in my room, you know?”
Harris felt his heart clench. He gave the young prince his full attention and remained silent. It was obvious that he needed to let everything out, and although the Monarch was not Harrys’ favorite person…
Lord Potter was not a cruel bastard either, so he simply looked at the child and listened.
“I always wondered what I was doing wrong, why he looked at me with contempt instead of affection… how a father is supposed to look at his son. Aunt Elaena told me about her own father, King Aegon III, about how he took the time to have tea with her. She mentioned that they always talked about unimportant and annoying things, like gossip from the Red Keep or the lives of the servants. She said that her father never complained, that he always had a smile and warm words for her and her sisters,” the little boy said, his voice somewhat broken.
Harris said nothing. He did not want to interrupt the prince. It was obvious that he needed to get everything inside him out, so, in an act of mercy, Harrys simply listened.
He could grant that to Daeron Targaryen. Perhaps not for the monarch he had become, but out of respect for the helpless young boy he had once been, one who clearly needed help.
And apparently, he had never found it.
So Harrys listened to absolutely everything, about the torturous afternoons in the training yard learning to wield a sword under the icy gaze of Aegon IV, who apparently had been a competent warrior in his youth.
Not on the level of the Dragonknight, but not untalented either.
“My interests had always been in knowledge. I even begged my father to let me go to the Citadel so I could expand my knowledge and increase the size of the Red Keep’s library,” the little prince said, causing Harrys to grimace uncomfortably at those words.
There was no way that conversation was going to end well.
However, Daeron’s words were interrupted the moment Harrys and the little prince reached an enormous door, one that was… completely covered in dust, as if it had been unused for a very long time…
Or as if someone had gone to great lengths to ensure it was never found.
And the moment Harrys saw the words written on the wood, the elegant and sophisticated handwriting, he understood why.
“Naerys,” Harrys said softly, and the moment those words left his lips, everything around them trembled unsteadily for an instant, while the little prince shuddered.
“I… I’m sorry,” Daeron said with a grimace of discomfort, making Harrys wave it off indifferently.
“Naerys… that was your mother’s name, right? Queen Naerys Targaryen,” Harrys replied as a statement, causing the prince to nod gently.
“It is… but I don’t want to go in there. I don’t want to… I don’t want Him to find her,” he whispered fearfully, causing Harrys to frown and kneel down, taking the prince by the shoulders.
“Hey… I don’t know what’s behind that door, Daeron, but it’s important that we reach your memories. Whatever is up there… it draws power from it. There is something you are suppressing very strongly, and if we don’t find it, we will never be able to get rid of it,” Lord Potter said calmly.
Daeron bit his lip, evidently terrified of whatever might be inside. Looking at Harrys, he nodded gently, hesitant and frightened, but filled with determination.
“Fine, then… there’s no time to waste,” Harrys said as he opened the door, revealing the room in question and, in the process, giving Harrys a glimpse of what Queen Naerys Targaryen had once been.
“Muna,” Daeron whispered in a trembling voice as he and Harrys entered the immense and luxurious room, allowing the young Lord to hear the most… beautiful sound he had ever heard.
And then… Harrys saw the memory King Daeron had of his mother, Queen Naerys, analyzing every detail to the fullest.
The former Queen of Westeros was… beautiful, even by Targaryen standards. Her face was as delicate as an angel’s, with simply perfect porcelain skin. Her amethyst eyes were large and beautiful, but they did not express happiness. Instead, they held melancholy and resignation. It was a sad gaze for such a beautiful being.
As she had been accustomed to dressing in life, the Queen wore a beautiful white garment that covered her entire body, a woman devoted until her final days. Her clothing betrayed her deep longing to become a woman of Faith, something her brother and husband, Aegon IV, had never allowed.
The beautiful woman sang softly, while her elegant fingers moved across the strings of the beautiful golden harp between her legs, which seemed to weep with melancholy and sadness beneath the Queen’s hands.
A beautiful woman, one who deserved to be worshiped and respected…
And one who had been forced to suffer throughout her entire life under the attentions of a monster like the Unworthy, he thought with some sadness.
The moment the Queen’s memory looked at her son, the sweet melody stopped abruptly, causing the woman to look toward the boy in surprise.
“Daeron!” she exclaimed, evidently with happiness, although, to Harrys’ surprise, that quickly transformed into something else.
Fear.
“MUNA!” the young prince screamed as he ran into his mother’s arms, burying his face in the Queen’s fine robes and beginning to cry uncontrollably.
The Queen immediately embraced her beloved son, gently kissing his silver hair while murmuring lullabies in High Valyrian to calm him. The image was genuinely touching.
If they did not have a murderous magical entity chasing after them.
And although Harrys truly hated interrupting the moment, they had no time to waste.
“Daeron… we must leave. Your memories, now,” Harrys said quickly, at the same time that the eerie voice of Aegon IV echoed from the staircase they had come from.
“OH BOY! Where are you? You don’t want me to visit Mommy tonight, do you, Daeron? Now be a damn good little brat and get back to your fucking room,” the creature roared, before releasing the most macabre laugh Harrys had ever heard, causing young Daeron to begin trembling in his mother’s arms.
“No! No no no NOOOO!” he roared with fury and helplessness as he clung to the sweet memory of Queen Naerys.
One that the young prince had to accept was not real.
The Queen was dead. She had left this world decades ago, and Daeron would have to accept it and let her go in order to move forward.
Therefore, with determination, Harrys grabbed Daeron by the shoulders, shaking the distraught child as he snapped.
“Daeron! Focus! This isn’t real! This isn’t your mother! They’re your memories! It can’t hurt her, and it can’t hurt you either!” Harrys roared, determination evident on his face.
And apparently, the severity of his words managed to pierce through the young man’s veil of despair, as he looked at Harrys, opening and closing his mouth.
“No… it isn’t real?”
Harrys nodded quickly and continued.
“It isn’t. Your mother… Queen Naerys died a long time ago, Daeron. You must accept it. You must… grow up, so it can no longer hurt you,” Harrys said with extreme gentleness, while fresh tears streamed down the young prince’s face, who simply curled up once again against the chest of his expectant mother.
“Muna…” he whispered with a broken voice, causing Harrys to feel something he sincerely never thought he would ever feel for Daeron Targaryen.
Pity.
The Queen’s memory simply embraced her sweet son, a gentle and tender gesture filled with warmth and love. Without a doubt, the King’s subconscious was channeling all his memories of his mother into this room, into this precise moment.
And associating them with protection and safety.
However… all of this was an illusion, and the King had to understand that if he wished to escape this twisted mental prison.
“I… I will always love you, Muna, and our time to reunite will come soon. Very soon,” the King said in a broken voice, at the same time that Queen Naerys’ body began to glow with a soft white radiance, which gradually grew brighter.
The room, the Queen, and the Prince’s body all began to shine with such intensity that Harrys was blinded for an instant. However, during the strange magical event, Lord Potter managed to hear something.
A fragment of a… peculiar conversation… barely a whisper…
But what was said…
“Did you manage to do it?” an old and sophisticated voice exclaimed, carrying a touch of arrogance and contempt.
“Aye… the Unworthy remains alive… but…” another voice said, much younger and hesitant, as if fearing retaliation from the older voice.
“Were there problems?” the old voice asked, completely controlled and sophisticated, but filled with warning, like a storm waiting to be unleashed.
And then… the second voice answered with terror in its tone.
“I… I think Daena’s bastard saw me. I tried to catch him, but… he disappeared among the corridors of the Red Keep.”
The conversation stopped abruptly at the same time the magical radiance disappeared, and with it…
So did Queen Naerys and little Daeron, giving way to…
“I am… Daeron Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne,” said the now-young Dragon. The little boy had disappeared, and a slender, well-built teenager had taken his place.
Harrys looked him in the eyes for several moments, not really knowing what to say, at least until Daeron smiled gently and answered.
“Thank you for your help, stranger. However, we must continue,” he said with his characteristic elegance before turning around and beginning to walk in the opposite direction from where they had come, toward the deepest part of his own memory.
Harrys hesitated for a moment, still thinking about the conversation he had overheard. It was obvious that, whatever it was… that conversation was important, and not only that.
It was buried deep within Daeron’s mind.
The little context he had managed to gather told Harrys that Ser Daemon, his teacher and the closest thing he had ever had to a father… had discovered something. Something important that someone or something wanted to keep secret at all costs.
And although Lord Potter still did not know what it was… Harrys would get to the bottom of this.
One way or another.
Therefore, without hesitation, he continued on his path behind the adolescent Daeron. The walls of the Valyrian catacomb were now more stable… allowing Harrys to gather enough concentration to send a message to Huggin.
This thing… it was obvious that it controlled the Monarch’s actions to some extent, and apparently, whatever was controlling Daeron Targaryen was also responsible for the death of his Master.
So… as far as Lord Potter was concerned, the gloves were off.
And the real show was about to begin. He was tired of hiding, of pretending and acting as though these people were his superiors.
It was time for the noble houses of Westeros to learn that the skies of the Realm had a new master.
And that even the Dragon bowed before the Thunder.
Therefore, drawing in a deep breath, Harrys sent the mental command through his magic.
“Awaken, Fulgarion! And claim your place as Sovereign of the Skies!”
The show had only just begun.
Lily Potter,Harrys’ Office – Potter Manor.
“Are you sure that’s all that happened?” Maekar asked with his characteristic frown, looking suspiciously toward Shiera, who was sitting in Harrys’ chair with her legs crossed.
The woman in question merely rolled her eyes and replied with a shrug.
“If you don’t believe me, nephew, you can ask Ser Corbray. Harrys and Daeron were talking when Alyssane Blackfyre was mentioned… it was as if someone else had taken control of my brother. His eyes dilated and his face became unnaturally serene. Harrys detected something he called… an external magical influence, before casting a strange spell… since then, they have been like this,” Shiera said, pointing toward the scene in question.
And Lily could not help but snort at what she saw.
Daeron and Harrys were standing, her son’s wand only a few centimeters from the King’s face, both of them with their eyes closed, completely motionless and still.
Like a pair of statues.
However… it was obvious that something was happening, considering King Daeron’s erratic movements, his eyes moving… strangely beneath his eyelids.
“What spell did Harrys use?” Baelor asked calmly, while Queen Myriah observed the surroundings of the office with a critical eye.
Shiera shrugged and answered.
“Legilimens,” the beautiful but dangerous woman said, at the same time that everyone present in the room turned to look at Lily, waiting for an explanation.
The redhead shook her head and answered.
“It’s not a spell I know. Perhaps… perhaps it is a Potter spell,” she said with some bitterness, causing everyone around them to sigh heavily, while the sound of the wards being attacked by the incessant animals continued assaulting everyone’s ears.
“For fuck’s sake, can’t you shut that shit up?” Maekar snapped at the incessant pounding of the birds and beasts.
Lily rolled her eyes and replied with amusement in her voice.
“Relax, Maekar. The wards are far too powerful for whatever is attacking them… it’s annoying, yes, but we only have to wait for Harrys to wake up and—”
However, Lily’s words were interrupted by a sudden shout originating from her own son, who… without opening his eyes or losing his concentration, exclaimed with magic and authority in his voice.
“Awaken, Fulgarion! And claim your place as Sovereign of the Skies!”
And the moment those words left Harrys’ mouth…
It happened.
Powerful and thunderous bolts of lightning battered the skies, at the same time that dense storm clouds appeared suddenly, to the obvious confusion of everyone present. The atmosphere was tense, charged with a… strange and unknown energy, while the characteristic smell of ozone assaulted their noses.
Had Harrys summoned a storm? the redhead wondered cautiously, at the same time that the Targaryens present looked toward the sky with obvious concern.
Or, in the case of the fucking Shiera, with admiration and desire written across her face.
However, the strangest reaction was Huggin’s. Her beloved son’s familiar began cawing loudly again and again until… without warning, he launched himself from his perch at the top of Harrys’ office and began flying toward the skies.
Directly toward the storm…
“What the fuck is happening? What the hell did Harrys do?” Maekar asked incredulously, at the same time that the Targaryen and Potter soldiers on the Manor grounds shifted uneasily, everyone pointing toward the sky and the imposing storm.
And then…
BOOOOOOOM
“FUCK!!”
“DAMN!!”
“AGHHHHH!”
Chaos reigned not only in Harrys’ office, but across the entire grounds. Shouts of surprise and anguish could be heard as a powerful gale was unleashed over Potter Manor. The winds were so powerful that some trees on the horizon were almost completely horizontal, and although interesting… that was not what Lily was reacting to.
It was the skies, where seven powerful bolts of thunder appeared at the same time…
The Seven striking… at the same time… Huggin… her son’s familiar…
“No… it can’t be,” she whispered in realization, watching as the “raven” she and Harrys had raised began growing in size at an alarming speed, an aura of lightning—
“Shit,” Baelor whispered beside her, while he and the entire Targaryen clan watched in stunned silence as Harrys’ raven, Huggin, took on an elongated, almost serpentine appearance, while another pair of wings and legs emerged from his body, which… began growing at a monstrous rate, easily surpassing fifty meters in length.
And then…
CAAAAAAWW!
The powerful war cry was far deeper and more terrifying than anything Lily had ever heard, and when combined with the fact that an electrical storm was literally emanating from Huggin’s body… it became quite clear what it was.
“A… a Thunderbird!” Lily said, utterly stunned, staring in wonder at the imposing magical beast, which had begun directing its lightning storm toward the animals attacking the place.
“A what? What the fuck is a Thunderbird?” Maekar asked, stunned, causing Lily to sigh, still shaken by what she was seeing.
“The Apex of the Apex of the skies of our homeland… the most powerful winged magical creature, so powerful… that it preys upon dragons,” Lily said distractedly.
At those words, the Targaryens stared at her in utter shock, as though what the redhead had just said were some tasteless joke, or something extraordinarily difficult to believe.
“That… that’s impossible! There is nothing more powerful than dragons, there…,” Baelor said before shaking his head and falling silent, staring at the imposing winged colossus dominating the skies through its mere presence.
“There was nothing in Westeros… until now… Thunderbirds are extraordinarily long-lived and powerful,” Lily said, swallowing hard as she stared at Huggin’s imposing presence.
Or Fulgarion… as Harrys had called him, and who possessed this beast as his familiar, the redhead thought incredulously before shaking her head and looking back toward her beloved son.
What the fuck was happening? What was Harrys doing?
She did not know, but she was going to find out.
One way… or another.