The Three-Day Trial
Aegon stood on the edge of a lonely cliff, his eyes burning with relentless determination. Below, the ocean crashed against the jagged rocks, mirroring the storm that raged within him.
The visions had changed him. The priestess's words echoed in his mind—he was the Prince That Was Promised, but he had no love for prophecy. He only craved vengeance.
"Lightbringer…" he murmured, gripping the sword forged from his own will.
The blade hummed in his hands, pulsating with an energy that seemed to be alive. It was fire and steel fused into one, but it was still untamed.
Aegon needed control.
For three days, he trained relentlessly. No sleep, no rest.
He honed his footwork, his strikes, his breathing, testing the limits of his power. He slashed through wooden dummies, his sword melting through steel, turning anything in its path to ash and embers.
Mormont and Arya watched from a distance.
"He's changing," Arya muttered, gripping the hilt of Needle.
"He is consumed," Mormont said grimly. "Vengeance is a hollow thing. It feeds on rage but leaves nothing behind."
Aegon overheard, but he didn't care.
"It will have avenged Ned. It will have saved Daenerys."
That was all that mattered.
On the third day, he was ready.
He bought a ship, preparing to sail to the Apostles' temple—alone.
Mormont and Arya pleaded to join him.
He refused.
"You'll only slow me down. This is my war."
They watched him depart into the mist, the glow of Lightbringer illuminating the dark waters.
Westeros: The Aftermath of Ned Stark's Death
News of Eddard Stark's death spread like wildfire.
At King's Landing, Cersei was jubilant. She stood in the Red Keep, drinking a goblet of wine, watching Joffrey's cruel delight.
"The Stark dog is dead!" Joffrey declared, his voice echoing across the throne room. "The traitor's head should be on a pike."
Sansa, standing by his side, clutched her fists.
"Why do you cry for a traitor?" Joffrey sneered. "Smile! Be happy!"
He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look at him.
"Say something ill of your father."
Sansa bit her tongue.
Joffrey's eyes gleamed with sadistic pleasure.
"Say it! Or I'll have Ser Meryn beat it out of you."
The court was silent. The people watched in horror.
She wanted to scream, to curse him, to stab him through the heart.
But she forced a fake smile and whispered words of betrayal against her own father.
Inside, her heart shattered.
Elsewhere, in the North, Catelyn Stark collapsed in grief.
Her husband was gone.
Robb Stark was silent at first, then roared in anger. His brothers Bran and Rickon were devastated.
And in the streets of Westeros, whispers grew.
Ghost had fallen.
The legendary assassin, the butcher of the Faceless Order, had been defeated.
But if monsters could defeat the Ghost… what else lurked in the shadows?
Aegon's Arrival at the Temple
The ship cut through the mist, approaching the ancient ruins where the Apostles lurked.
Aegon felt their presence. The air reeked of dark magic.
He stepped onto the cold stone, Lightbringer blazing in his grip.
Shadows moved in the distance.
A voice echoed through the darkness.
"You came alone. Foolish."
Aegon smirked.
"I didn't come to talk. I came to kill."
The battle was about to begin.