103 AC
Third Person's POV
The sun cast long shadows over the training yard, its rays glinting off the Narrow Sea's undulating waves. Ser Vaemond Velaryon, resplendent in his silver armor, stood tall at the yard's heart, his bastard sword comfortably in hand. He gazed at his approaching nephew, amidst the courtyard where his sons and others were honing their skills.
"Again," Vaemond commanded, his voice laden with the responsibility of training the next Lord of Tides. "Footwork, Laenor. You must glide across the ground smoothly and unpredictably, so your enemy cannot anticipate your next move."
Laenor nodded, silver strands slipping into his vision as he firmed his hold on the practice blade. He was a blur in motion, feet dancing in a deliberate rhythm, delivering a flurry of strikes and blocks. His stance held an instinctive quality, as if he were drawing on a deep-seated awareness and reflexes to lead him, coupled with a speed in his actions that appeared almost supernatural for someone his young age.
Vaemond observed him intently, recognizing the speed and agility with which Laenor assimilated each instruction. It seemed as though the boy's body anticipated movements quicker than his mind, his instincts directing him in ways that would take others years to learn. Vaemond had been instructing the boy for the past two years, yet this particular stance had never been revealed before. Vaemond surmised that the drowning had altered the boy, and he hoped it was for the better. As the next Lord of Driftmark, like Corlys, he could elevate their house to heights that even the Targaryen's couldn't match, especially now that they had Dragon-riders within their own ranks.
"You're quick, I'll give you that," Vaemond observed, his voice carrying a note of approval. "But quickness alone won't win battles. True, with your awareness and speed, you could quickly surpass many knights, I concede. However, once an experienced knight learns your style, the word will spread. Then, they won't face you in single combat again. So, don't be arrogant about your gifts; strive to enhance them as much as possible."
Laenor, catching his breath, stood up straight and offered a slight smile. "I'm determined to keep improving and will practice every day. Yet, it's difficult to pace myself, Uncle. My mind races ahead; at times, I understand what needs to be done even before I've fully considered it." Laenor was internally surprised when his uncle discerned his weakness during training, especially since there are many knights whose skill and experience in swordsmanship far surpass that of his uncle. Therefore, it might not be easy to become the most skilled swordsman in the realm.
Vaemond raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "That's the blood of the sea in you, Laenor. Always moving, never still. But the sea can be treacherous if you don't respect its power." He stepped closer, his expression turning more serious. "Like when you thought it wise to dive into the waves alone the other day."
Laenor winced slightly, as he would have to endure these drowning remarks till he reveals his ability. "I wasn't thinking. I just wanted to feel the water, to be part of it. I didn't expect it to drag me down like that." This groundwork will prove beneficial when he unveils his abilities in the future. It will lead everyone to believe that he was meant to acquire these powers, as there were clear signs of his instinctual talents, which guided him to the incident in the sea where he gained all his abilities.
Vaemond's eyes hardened, though there was concern behind the sternness. "You're Velaryon, Laenor. The sea is in our blood, but that doesn't mean we're invincible. You need to learn when to hold back, when to harness that power instead of letting it sweep you away."
"I know, Uncle," Laenor said quietly, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I just... I wanted to feel something real. I wanted to be stronger."
Vaemond placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm. "Strength isn't just about power, boy. It's about control. You have a gift—your quickness, your instincts—but if you don't learn to control them, they'll be your downfall." If Laenor were to acquire a dragon, he could become the mightiest Lord of the Tides, surpassing even his father. His brother had mentioned that Laenor took to swimming much earlier than most children do. Should he inherit his father's sailing prowess, Vaemond is convinced the boy will achieve greatness and elevate their house to new heights. Indeed, nothing could please Vaemond more.
Laenor looked up, meeting his uncle's gaze. I'm truly surprised to hear such support from him; I never thought he would be so encouraging. It's for the best, anyway, so I won't do anything to betray his trust in me. "I'll do better. I'll learn."
Vaemond nodded, satisfied for now. "Good. Now, show me what you've learned. And remember, every strike should be as precise as the currents that carry our ships. Don't just react—command the flow."
The boy's movements were even sharper now, more focused. Each movement of his practice sword was deliberate, aimed at disarming his opponent. Vaemond noticed the effort to dominate the bout by sharpening his awareness and anticipating reactions. And He was learning—fast, faster than Vaemond had expected.
Vaemond couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. Laenor might be young and inexperienced, but there was a raw potential in him that was unmistakable. With the right guidance, the boy would inscribe his name in the annals of history as the greatest swordsman who ever lived.
As Laenor completed the final sequence, breathing hard, Vaemond gave a nod of approval. "That's enough for today. You've done well, Laenor. Remember this feeling—the control you found today. It'll serve you well, both in the yard and in the sea."
Laenor grinned, a mixture of relief and determination in his expression. "Thank you, Uncle. I won't forget."
Vaemond gave him a rare smile, clapping him on the back. "Good. Now, go rest. Tomorrow, we'll see if you can do it again."
Laenor sheathed his practice sword, his thoughts already leaping to the next task, the upcoming challenge. He pondered how the eggs would react when infused with Life-force, and he aimed to estimate the process to make it as swift and efficient as possible.
Vaemond watched the boy leave the courtyard, a spring in his step signalling his excitement. He then turned to his sons, who were practicing their drills, and began to approach them, knowing that Laenor would need steadfast allies to aid him on his path to greatness. In doing so, his sons would also find their own ambitions to pursue, for it is through such endeavors that one's true potential is revealed.
*****
Laenor Pov
After returning to my chambers to freshen up, I shared the mid-day meal with my family and prepared to visit the seashore. Laena's dragon egg is with me; I picked it up after dining with her. She earnestly requested to accompany me to the seashore to watch how I would hatch the dragon egg from stones. However, I informed her that it would take time, and I intended to go alone. She also wished for me to take her other egg to attempt hatching it, as it has not yet turned to stone. I assured her that the dragon egg I had given her would hatch, and she need only wait until the end of this moon.
I took two Dragon eggs in my hands and began walking towards the seashore where we usually practice swimming. Upon reaching my destination, I started to submerge myself in the sea. After reaching a depth that was not too deep, I settled into a meditative pose and placed the Dragon eggs on my lap. I then reached out towards the sea to feel the force that resides within it.
Over time, I become aware of the boundless energy that pervades the entire ocean surrounding me. It seems innocuous in every direction, yet with my heightened senses, I perceive it as the most formidable force I have ever encountered. Its potency makes the water seem insignificant by comparison. I begin by channeling this energy towards my body, with the firm intention of not allowing it to penetrate my being, but merely to serve as a catalyst.
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