"Fire, the symbol of purity, life and destruction, is the emblem that Aenar aims to achieve in his reign." - Visenya II Targaryen, the Empress.
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With the opening of the Blood Gate, the Northern army invaded the Vale without any obstacles. As they weren't focused on heading towards The Eyrie, they advanced without difficulty, but this only lasted half a day.
Stones fell from the rocky walls, crushing some unlucky people.
"Hill tribe... those filthy savages." Brynden spoke in a calm tone, not at all surprised by the attacks they were suffering at the moment.
"Leda, you have orders."
However, under Brynden's surprised gaze, Leda knelt down in front of Aenar.
"Come with me and let's have some fun." Aenar ordered with a cold smile, causing goosebumps to rise on Brynden's body.
"Uncle, I'll leave the army march to you." Aenar looked at Eddard and spoke calmly.
The Lord of the North was certainly not worried about Aenar's safety. He had personally witnessed the man defeat all the Northern lords without breaking a sweat.
"Don't worry, Your Grace. I'll march to Ironoaks without any delay."
Aenar nodded and set off with Leda, under the gazes of the Northern Lords.
"Leda, let's bet." As they climbed one of the branches of the Mountains of the Moon, Aenar spoke, drawing the attention of the Lady Commander of the Royal Guard.
"Whoever kills the most will be able to make a request of the other." Aenar commented with an amused smile, observing Leda's cautious expression.
As someone who spent day and night at Aenar's side, Leda knew the king's powers better than anyone. Only a fool would bet against someone who could see the future. While she would probably have to scour the mountains for savages, Aenar would go straight to the base of the Hill Clans.
"Don't refuse. I promise not to look into the past or the future." Aenar commented, with a teasing look. Just imagining Leda wearing a beautiful dress brought a touch of amusement to his face.
Leda, feeling an inexplicable danger, looked at Aenar cautiously, but in the end agreed to the bet. Since the king could see neither the past nor the future, she was confident she could beat him.
For some reason, the image of Aenar posing for a painting seemed pleasant to her. Leda knew how much Aenar hated standing in one place.
"Cut off the ears of everyone you kill." As soon as Aenar had finished speaking, Leda shot off in a random direction, advancing through the Mountains of the Moon.
Aenar's lips curved into a mischievous smile. "I said I wouldn't look into the past or the future... but you didn't say anything about looking into the past before this bet started."
Aenar, knowing he was going to bet with Leda, looked into the past and successfully located the Stone Crows' base before Leda even imagined she was betting against him. The poor girl still underestimated the shamelessness of the king she served.
"A pink or white dress?" Aenar muttered as she walked between the mountains as if they were flat ground. A smile full of amusement appeared on the lips of the King of Westeros.
"Just make her wear all the colors."
Muttering mischievously, Aenar moved on quickly, oblivious to the steep terrain that was impossible to climb.
Half an hour later, he spotted the tribe of savages below and gave them a cold, murderous stare.
"I don't know if you're stupid or if it's pure ignorance... How dare you attack my army?"
Drawing Lady Lya from her scabbard, the sword emitted a slashing sound as it was drawn and shone once more in the sunlight. The milky blade seemed to be made of pure light, resplendent and blinding.
Such a spectacle caught some people's attention. Some stood up and narrowed their eyes, trying to see better, but what they saw was a tall man, over two meters tall, holding a sword that seemed to be forged from light.
"Enemy attack!!!"
The man didn't hesitate and shouted as loud as he could, but as soon as he did, he felt a stabbing pain on the left side of his face, and everything went dark for him.
The man's head exploded like a watermelon hit by a high-caliber projectile. The nauseating sound hung in the air before blood and brain tissue painted the ground. The headless body toppled over with a deafening thud, as the blood flowed out, forming a ruddy puddle.
Aenar, who had just thrown a casual punch, didn't even bother to take a second look at the decapitated corpse and advanced with an indifferent expression. Blood stained the feet of his armor, leaving crimson footprints on the ground.
The Stone Crows showed no fear at the brutal scene. They each grabbed the weapon they had and advanced bravely. Perhaps it was stupid, but in their eyes, fighting such an enemy was not only an honor, it was sacred.
Aenar smiled and advanced, slicing the nearest man in half. As blood and internal organs fell to the ground, the king sidestepped and, with his bare hand, pierced another man's chest, ripping out his heart.
Throwing the pulsating organ aside as if it were an object, Aenar smiled and advanced with even more ferocity. Brutal, bloody and cruel. No one resisted a single blow from him, all came to tragic and extremely bloody ends.
Honestly, Aenar was surprised by the number of people living there. There were around five hundred people, three hundred men and the rest made up of women and children.
He wondered how more than five hundred people could survive in the mountains, where agriculture was non-existent and the soil devoid of nutrients.
Aenar wondered how more than five hundred people could survive in arid mountains, where agriculture was non-existent and the land offered no nutrients.
Human civilization only grew thanks to agriculture. They went from being hunters and gatherers to farmers. With more food, people were able to settle in one place and abandon nomadism. This is how the first cities emerged after the advent of agriculture.
However, the Mountain Clans survived there for thousands of years, which was impossible without growing any kind of food. How, then, did these people get the supplies to stay in one place, instead of becoming nomads? This question really piqued Aenar's curiosity.
He looked at the women and children, who stared at him in sheer terror. Some of the children even urinated in fear.
Was he really that scary?
Looking at himself, Aenar realized that he was covered in blood, pieces of internal organs and even more blood. There wasn't a single part of him that wasn't dirty. Coupled with the fact that he had just killed all the fathers, husbands and brothers of those women and children, their terror was completely justified.
However, Aenar didn't care and didn't plan to kill them. He had promised Visenya and Daenerys that he would not kill indiscriminately, especially women and children. Although he considered the thoughts of his two queens to be somewhat hypocritical.
Weren't men also worthy of pity?
"What a good husband like me doesn't do to satisfy his wives..." Aenar murmured as she began to cut the ears off the men's still intact heads and put them in a bag, in no hurry to win the competition against Leda.
After collecting all the ears, he didn't even look at the women and started walking towards his next goal. However, he stopped abruptly when he noticed an old woman staring at him with a cold gaze.
"Fire."
The old woman pronounced the word in an ancient and mysterious tone. Under Aenar's surprised gaze, flames began to form around her.
He immediately felt the energy of the Warp in the air. Narrowing his eyes, he watched the old witch curiously.
Unmindful of her enemy's gaze, the woman raised her hand and a funnel of fire advanced towards her. The flames seemed extremely destructive, but they were insignificant in his eyes.
Aenar simply waved his hand, and the fire, which had previously been under the witch's control, became his in an instant.
"Let me give that back to you." Ignoring the old woman's shocked look, Aenar spoke with an amused tone.
Use fire against him?
He was the Fire King. There were no flames in this world or universe that he couldn't control.
BOOM!!!
An even more terrifying funnel of fire advanced towards the woman. At her advanced age, it was completely impossible to dodge the attack, so she used all her power to try to block it.
But... could Aenar's attack be blocked?
The answer was no.
Seconds later, when the flames disappeared, only a completely charred corpse lay before him.
"Looks like these Mountain Clans have some interesting legacies." Aenar murmured with mild interest, but didn't bother to look for such secrets.
In the face of Valyria's Inheritance, what did the magic of mere savage clans mean?
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