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Red. The skies were red and thick with clouds of ash, looming overhead and falling, choking the air away. It was as if the Goddess Meraxes herself was warring with Gaelithox. From her perch she could see it all, the fire, the death. The marvel of the known world was burning, with the 14 Flames erupting at once, large columns of fire spouting from the mountain tops and arcing towards the city… The Dragons had their say as well, soaring in desperation for any way out of the fires, screeching and crying out for all the Gods to spare them, to show them a way out of their volcanic prisons.
Red. The streets ran thick with it. As men often did when panicked, the chaos had turned to looting and crime. Bodies littered the streets down below as the people of the city desperately scrambled to steal whatever they could, not allowing anybody to get in their way. It made the serenity of the view from the tower almost bearable, as a maiden would not remain that way for long on the street. She hoped Father was safe… Beneath their feet the ground began to rumble and shake, fiercer and fiercer until from the centre of the city the towers began to topple down. She slammed her eyes shut in horror, not wanting to see the wanton death that surrounded her.
Red. Balerion’s eyes. She could see them through her closed eyelids, causing her to open them once more and stare at the hatchling. The Dragon looked unnatural, cocking its small head towards her questioningly and accusingly, making her think and say aloud… “This isn’t right.” With one look over the balcony she saw the view freeze. Dragons in midair, their final cries silent as the fires engulfed them. Men and women on the ground, their terror etched forever onto their faces. The great Dragon Tower, the centre of the Freehold, frozen in an eternal collapse.
It caused Daenys Targaryen to bolt upright, her slumber broken with cold sweats and vigorous panting. Between her legs she noted that colour again, red. Beside her, her half-sister Valaena was rousing too. “Daenys, is everything alright?”
Daenys simply nodded, kissing her sister on the head. “Go back to sleep, I am fine.” She lied, waiting for the girl to settle down before shooting out of bed towards her desk. Outside the city seemed normal, with the joyous cries of the dragons from above mixed with the usual noise of the city below. She looked over to the corner of the room, where the young Balerion slumbered peacefully. With a final sigh, Daenys picked up her quill and began to write it all.