PJO World The Winter Realm, The Winter Fort
The rally in the throne room had empowered and emboldened Aemon's loyalist before their spirits were quickly dampened with the subsequent news of his plans; the Winter Fort is to be abandoned and Dragonstone in the world of Paradis shall serve as their home while also serving as where the Unseelie Court shall be convened from henceforth. Understandably many of his commanders and knights were upset at the news while the more politically astute of his subjects deduced the reason why quickly enough.
By moving the Court out of the Winter Realm and into a land unknown by the entire court Aemon removes any geographical advantage any of his possibly rebellious lords may ever obtain should they think to attack his fort while still retaining his own geographical advantage should he ever choose to attack them. Second it essentially turns whoever attends the court in the future into a hostage; after all should any of his lords even think of rebelling he could remove their representative's heads from their shoulders before their armies are ever ready to attack. And third, it gives Aemon easy access to a standing army should he ever need to in Westeros. None would expect that the bastard children of Saera Targaryen would possess an elite army of 8000 ready to march at any given moment.
As such, it did not take much to turn those in disagreement into supporters of the idea. While they would have obeyed his command regardless it is best that they do so enthusiastically, and what better way to convince Unseelie Fey of an idea than to spin it as a cunning ploy.
Which is how he finds himself here. The sound of his boots on the ground softly echoes through the dungeon hall as Aemon makes his way towards his most valued prisoner. Behind him, Reina, in her wolf form, and Ghost's own footfalls follow silently by his side while Huginn perches himself on his shoulder. A step behind his direwolf and his werewolf commander are four members of the Royal Guard, while six members of the Black Knives make themselves at home in his shadow.
As Aemon stops before the bars of Rellana's cell he takes a moment to observe the knight. Despite her lustrous black hair that shines against her pale skin and her blue eyes that seem to resemble two blue moons, Rellana cannot be said to be the most beautiful by fey standards. Of course any mortal woman and many a supernatural woman would pale in comparison to her, however by the standard of the fey she would merely be labeled as above average. However, there is an elegance and gracefulness to her that is mesmerizing to behold, coupled with the sense of heroic air she gives off and it would not be wrong to name her as charismatic.
Even with her disheveled appearance due to her captivity Aemon cannot help but admire her.
"Your Majesty." greets Rellana with a perfect knightley bow.
"Lady Rellana." replies Aemon, his hands folded at his back while his single shoulder cape gently sways behind him despite the lack of wind. A wind spirit had taken a liking to him sometime while he was unconscious and has thus far refused to leave, granted Aemon did not attempt to have him leave at all.
Seeing the color of his attire Rellana's eyes narrow into a glare, still she remains silent, awaiting for what Aemon has to say.
"You seem awfully accepting of my station now." comments Aemon.
"Within the Court, victory is King." replies Rellana, causing Aemon to smirk.
"Indeed, only the victor is right in the court." Aemon says as he continues to observe Rellana. Tilting his head to the side, he regards her with an impassive stare, his emotions unreadable upon his Stark face of ice "As Messmer's intended and general, I should have you beheaded." he says.
Despite his words Rellana does not react and merely continues to look at him before saying, "As King of the Unseelie Court it is your due." she nods.
"Hmmm." hums Aemon with a nod before grabbing the cell door with his left hand and ripping the door from its hinges.
Stepping into the cell, he draws Longclaw, not even wincing when a burning pain shoots through his hand as he grasps the handle.
"Any last words?" he asks, the tip of his sword lightly touching her throat. Had it been any other sword the small contact would not have done anything, however considering the Valyrian Steel nature of Longclaw a small incision is made at the point of contact drawing blood.
"I served my Lord faithfully." says Rellana as she stares Aemon in the eyes, drawing a smirk from him.
Perhaps it is the nerd within him displaying himself, or mayhaps Aemon himself has also always been attracted to dangerous women but Aemon thinks that he could kiss her right then and there. The armor, the elegance, the gracefulness, the unyielding attitude despite being consigned to death, truly in this moment she appears more beautiful than any other woman.
"Lady Rellana, the Twin Moon Knight, and former Sword of Messmer, your King calls you to serve!" commands Aemon, his voice slightly warped as if he were channeling his Stark ancestors.
With nary an hesitation, Rellana kneels before Aemon, "Rellana answers the call." she replies.
"Heed this King's decree, seize command of the Fire Knights, the Black Knights, your remaining Carian Knights and peacefully integrate them into the Winter Court's personal army, from henceforth they shall be known as the Knights of the Moon. Rise Twin Moon Knight, Commander of the Knights of the Moon." commands Aemon.
"Rellana heeds and obeys the King's decree." says Rellana with a bow upon standing.
With a satisfied nod Aemon sheathes Longclaw and exits the cell, a stoic Rellana following behind his retinue.
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Exiting the dungeons, Aemon makes his way out of the Winter Fort and towards Caraxes, the dragon having made himself comfortable on the ashes of the once abundant White Forest.
After having successfully gone through the ritual of Dragon Communion, Caraxes has slightly grown, appearing about as big as Daenerys' dragon Shrykos, the biggest dragon out of the Targaryen sibling's. However, not only has he grown but his appearance has also changed some. His pupils, which were once slitted as all other dragons, have disappeared leaving only the whites of his eyes. One would not be wrong to assume him blind. Finally, the last change that can be seen are his horns becoming white at tips and his scales receiving a hint of white at their edges; a visual change that is also reflected upon his flames.
Feeling Aemon approach, Caraxes raises himself up and releases a slight rumble from deep within his chest while also making his excitement known through their bond.
"I hear that you burned down the White Fort." comments Aemon with a smirk as he crosses his arms over his chest.
Roaring while sending a feeling of disdain through bond, Caraxes visibly preens for all to see, as if to say to the spectating fey 'Of course I did, and I would not hesitate to do so again. Now praise me.'
"As expected of the greatest dragon." says Aemon with a laugh, eliciting a victorious roar from Caraxes that shakes the very ground they stand on and the Winter Fort behind them.
Hearing a genuine roar come from Caraxes brings a rare smile upon Aemon's face. After Daenerys, Aegon, Jaehaerys, and Rhaenys' dragon had nested at Dragonstone Caraxes had begun to feel slightly insecure at being the only dragon of the nest incapable of a genuine roar and the others had not made it easy for him to overcome this insecurity. Whereas the others can roar and grumble as much as they please, Caraxes has only ever been capable of screeching, whistling, and other sounds of that nature, an unfortunate consequence of his long neck and smaller chest.
"Those roars do not come from his physical body." remarks the Other as he curiously surveys Caraxes. "The same way you learn to channel your spirit into that ability, Conqueror's Presence, is how he is able to roar." says the Other.
"No wonder he only roars when he feels pride." remarks Aemon. Pride is the easiest emotion that can allow one to channel an ability such as Conqueror's Haki, or Conqueror's Presence as his ancestors have renamed it.
"It seems that this bond between your dragon and you is far more complex than anticipated. If he can already imitate such an ability, what else will he be capable of in time?" asks the Other, his interest quite audible through his voice.
With a smile on his face Aemon approaches Caraxes, the dragon bending his neck to bring his head down to Aemon's height.
"You have done well." says Aemon as he caresses the dragon's snout, eliciting a slight thrill of pleasure from the dragon. "Although I honestly did not expect your flames to have become this hot in such a short span of time, I am pleasantly surprised." he adds.
Snorting in dismissal, Caraxes regards Aemon with a side eye as if he has been insulted.
"Very well, the fault lies with me for having underestimated you." says Aemon with a laugh. With a slight roar, Caraxes puffs out his chest before slithering to the ground and inviting Aemon upon his back.
With a smile, Aemon does not hesitate to climb on before commanding his guards to return to the Winter Fort.
As Caraxes takes to the skies with mighty wing beats, Aemon observes that despite not having grown much, his muscles are certainly much more powerful than he anticipated.
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Flying with Caraxes has always been liberating and empowering to Aemon, it is easy to see why his dragon riding ancestors believed themselves above even gods. However, while the experience has always been thrilling, Caraxes has never been the fastest of dragons. Nimble, agile, and ferocious are the Blood Wyrm's greatest characteristics, not speed. It is why Vhagar was so grievously injured by Caraxes as to die first and why Drogon was humiliated when he challenged Aemon's dragon. It is a quirk of the dragons' physique which allows it to maneuver any which way at the cost of speed.
However, since experiencing Dragon Communion and obtaining Albion's power and wisdom Caraxes' speed has quickly become one of the dragon's strengths. Feeling the sheer strength and power coursing through his companion's muscle with every beat of wings, Aemon quickly theorizes that while Caraxes may not have grown, much his muscles have certainly become more powerful without sacrificing his agility or nimble movements. It is such that Aemon would not be surprised should Caraxes prove to be the fastest of the dragons nesting in his headquarters of Dragonstone. He would not even be surprised to find him to be faster than even Meleys, the fastest dragon in Targaryen history after the Conquest.
As they fly through the skies of the Winter Realm, the dragon makes sure to fly low enough for all to see his rider. Even without Aemon's say so, through their bond Caraxes understands Aemon's wishes; to send a message through all those inhabiting the Winter Realm that their new King rides a dragon. Prideful as ever, Caraxes relishes flying low and roaring for all to hear and behold his magnificence, occasionally belching out huge balls of fire into the air or streams of flames at any whose sight he does not appreciate. Melting the White Fort was not enough, they must bear witness to how such an act was accomplished.
The tour through the Winter Realm took a mere few days, short one might say until one considers the fact that the realm is easily twice as big as Westeros. It is simply due to Caraxes speed that it took such a short time.
As Aemon returns to the Winter Fort, he finds Percy and the others waiting for him.
Landing just a distance away, Aemon easily jumps from Caraxes' saddle and gracefully lands on the ash covered ground of the once White Forest, his landing not even kicking up the dust and ash.
Walking towards his fellow chat members, Aemon is momentarily stumped when he feels the sheer presence rolling off of Percy in waves, as if it is not a demigod standing before him but rather a minor god.
With a slight frown he cannot help but look deeper, extending the senses of his newly discovered spirit to find the cause. As his senses sweep over the demigod the roar of a dragon warns him off and causes him to quickly stop peering.
This effect, only one who has bathed in the blood of a dragon they have slain in single combat can possess such a presence. The aura of a dragon, skin impervious to anything that cannot harm a dragon, increased physical and magical might, and more importantly an existence as dense and powerful as a dragon's.
There is a reason why single combat is the preferred judgment of many societies, because it is a ritual. Not one of justice, but one of spirit. Two beings face one another in single combat are pitting their existences against each other to determine which of them is worthy of living, and should the ritual be properly adhered to the winner's existence will not only be proven but their spirits shall also be strengthened through the absorption of part of the enemy's might.
Of course most forms of single combat never reach such a stage, especially in the mortal realm, for most societies now adhere to the belief of justice as opposed to might makes right. However, facing a dragon is different for their very being is so saturated with magic that it would not be completely wrong to claim them to be the ones who produce most of the energy, nor would it be wrong to name them magic's favored children.
However, facing a dragon in single combat begins the ritual not only due the sheer amount of magic they possess, but also because the existential weight of a dragon is such that nature recognises that choosing to face one of its favored children by oneself and succeeding is deserving of a reward. One can say that it is nature's way of rewarding the combatant for creating a miracle, for what else can it be to face a dragon in single combat and emerge the victor?
"You have grown more powerful." comments Aemon as he looks at Percy with an appreciative nod.
He knew that Percy emerged victorious against Vortigern but he did not think that he accomplished it single handedly, nor did he think that his blessing would be so great. Sensing Percy now, Aemon does not think that the true blessing of Vortigern's defeat has made itself known to him yet.
"Yea, they said it's because I beat Vortigern and got his blood all over me." says Percy with a grimace as he caresses the back of his head. With a chuckle and a pat on his back, Aemon reassures the demigod that he will help him with his newfound abilities.
Turning to Anakin, a solemn expression makes its way to Aemon's face, "Well?" he asks the Jedi.
"The echoes of death in the force on such a massive scale isn't something I want to feel ever again." says Anakin.
"Unfortunately this was nothing compared to a true war." replies Aemon. "Here you did not feel the despair and suffering of the innocent as war ruins their life, nor did you feel nature dying as the scale of the war encompassed the entire planet. All you felt was the echoes of the dying warriors who understood and accepted that they may not survive the battle." he says, causing Anakin to pale.
"How can you be so calm about this?" he asks with a sigh.
"Because this is the reality and ironic beauty of life. For as long as life exists there will be war, that is a fact of life. You may think that only sentient beings wage war, however that cannot be further from the truth. Even plants wage war on one another and it is what makes life so beautiful, the ability to choose how to live it." explains Aemon. "Think on my words, and once you understand them we can begin your training." he says before turning to Jenifer and Simon.
"Well?" asks Simon with a slight smirk, "Any sage advice for us?"
"Other than that I do not agree with your pacifist nature? No." replies Aemon as he turns to leave.
"Wait seriously?" asks Simon as he follows Aemon.
"There is nothing wrong with diplomacy however, at times one's best course of action is violence whether in protection of oneself or an innocent and to limit oneself by excluding the option of violence completely is to be cruel to oneself and those in need of protection." says Aemon, leaving Simon standing behind while in deep thought.
"And me, oh wise one?" jokes Jennifer, earning an eye roll from Aemon.
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The preparations for the migration to Dragonstone took much longer than Aemon anticipated. Still that time was not wasted for Aemon spent the duration of it training Percy into familiarizing himself with his new reality, helping Anakin train to resist the temptations of his darker emotions. A challenging endeavor considering Anakin's tendency to allow his emotions to rule him, still progress was made and now Anakin is able to resist most taunts levied against him by Aemon. Even in combat he now keeps a more level head resulting in quite intense spars between him, Percy, Aemon, and at times Jennifer. As for Simon, he merely watches and does not participate in the spars.
As for Aemon himself, well he has been practicing and has accomplished much in the past week. While he may not have become more powerful in terms of raw power he is confident that should he face Messmer once more the Impaler would not pose a challenger to him at all.
After a grueling session of sparring, Anakin and Percy are sprawled on the training ground floor while Aemon merely leans on a nearby wall and watches on with an analyzing eye, only looking away when Simon approaches him.
"I might need your help with something." says the vampire.
"What is it?" asks Aemon.
"So Clary is going to the Seelie Court in our world and I was wondering if you can be back up?" asks Simon.
"My friend, it would be my pleasure." says Aemon with a predatory grin.
The Seelie Knights in his Wild Hunt have been a thorn in his side mayhaps this trip to their Court would provide a solution for him.
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Shadowhunter World
2007, Central Park
Appearing in Central Park, seemingly out of nowhere, Aemon and Simon spook Jace into drawing his sword and slashing towards them. With a single step Aemon pulls Simon towards him as they disappear from Jace's sight and reappear behind him.
"Well, aren't you an excitable one." comments Aemon as Jace turns to face him, only to be promptly disarmed as if he were a child throwing a tantrum.
"Simon?" asks Clary as she finally takes notice of who it is that appeared before her. "What are you doing here?" she asks while pulling Jace back.
"We're here to help." replies Simon. "I wasn't going to let you go meet the Seelie Queen by yourself." he says.
"She's not going alone." retorts Jace. "Besides, what are you going to do if things get bad in there, geek them to death." he snarks "More importantly though, who is that?" he asks through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes.
"Well I thought what better back up against the Seelie Queen than our own faerie." says Simon with a small smile.
"Aemon Targaryen, enchanted." says Aemon as he takes Clary's hand and places a light kiss on the back, causing the girl to blush to her roots.
"Now, I believe that we have a meeting with the Seelie Queen, and time is of the essence." says Aemon as he pushes Clary backwards into the reflection of the moon on Turtle Pond causing her to subsequently disappear.
"Clary!" screams Jace as he lunges towards Aemon only for the same to happen to him.
"Was that necessary?" asks Simon with a sigh, earning a raised eyebrow from Aemon.
With a roll of his eyes Simon steps backwards into the reflection of the moon on Turtle Pond and promptly disappears, with Aemon following closely behind.
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Essos, Asshai
107 AC
In the past two years much has changed in Asshai. The great walls that were once only greasy to the touch seem to now be drenched in oil. The black walls that once seem to only drink light now devour it greedily, causing the dark and gloomy atmosphere to not only worsen but also take a sinister turn. Evil lurks here now and the population, once smaller than White Harbor but now surpassing it, seem to revel in it. Slavery runs rampant here, the foul sorcery that was once practiced by the Valyrian Freehold has now become common in this place. Fleshcrafting resulting in the making of chimeras and Tiger-men can be seen through all corners of the city, and the feasting of human flesh is now the primary source of sustenance for many of these sorcerers.
In the center of it all is a massive castle made of the same stone as the walls, so dark, dreary, and sinister that it seems to be growing from the shadows. Within that castle lies the most prominent of the sorcerers that have migrated to Asshai, and in a room shrouded in shadows yet possessing no light is where these sorcerers are currently convening.
"The operation failed." says one of the shadows within the room, his voice as slick as the grease on the black walls. "Prince Daemon received word of the children and arrived in time to rescue them."
"It was not a complete failure, I think." says another, this one's voice as elusive as smoke. "Although briefly, our agent was able to obtain control of his dragon with the spell, proving our thoughts correct. Should we target an unclaimed dragon with the spell we will have complete control over it, and currently the world does not lack for unclaimed dragons."
"In Westeros perhaps." argues another. "We, however, find ourselves lacking in such a department."
"With a proper distraction that can easily be rectified." replies the voice of smoke.
"What distraction could be great enough to draw House Targaryen's attention from the island. Since the first assault Dragonstone has become more guarded than any other fort in Westeros or Essos. Clearly they are expecting us to strike there once more." says another.
"How is our guest?" asks the voice of grease.
"She fights the spell, but unfortunately for her House Targaryen's knowledge of the mysteries has not prepared her for it. Soon she will be completely under our control."
"I must confess, I did not expect the ritual to actually work. Summoning a being from another realm or from the past is beyond what has ever been accomplished using magic."
"Perhaps, but our lord possesses power beyond the imagination. Granted she was not our intended target, but perhaps that is for the best. After all, she can be credited with much of the Conqueror's success."
"Much." one of them snorts with derision. "House Targaryen would have long fallen without her, and even before then the Conqueror owes his success to her."
"Regardless, I believe that once she has succumbed to the spell she can serve as the perfect distraction." says the voice of smoke as a dragon's roar shakes the city's core.
Author's Note: I'm back. So I realized that the quality of my chapters for Aemon's story was getting worse. I struggled with the next chapter, but no matter what I did it was still subpar, so I decided to take a temporary break for Aemon's story and focus on my side story that's currently in the works The Azure Dragon King(my Xianxia/DxD story) to basically reset my mind.
However, now I'm back and better(I think). So Here's the latest chapter. As usual, tell me what you guys think. If you want to support me or read ahead or get a sneak peek of my DxD story, you can at my patreon: patreon.com/servantambrosius