Uncertain Bloodline

After the House of Black and White was entirely cleared, Aerion stood with his new band of priests, servants, acolytes and faceless men. They fought back rather well but they met their god of death soon enough… for only a short while.

"I've thought about reining in these assassins… and learning their secrets," Aerion stated, sheathing his sword. "Now, House Martell won't threaten anyone with them. They will become my weapon instead."

"Can't say assassination is your style," Jocelyn replied.

"True, it is not… but changing one's face with such ease would be useful in more ways than one. While Aegon is busy with his conquest, I may as well learn some new tricks, no?"

"Suppose I should too while you're at it."

…

The facets of Faceless men training included many of the things that Aerion excelled at. Fighting, lying and acting… it did not take long for his Faceless subjects to approve of his abilities in those regards. Then he learned about the many poisons or rather, learned more about them. From the gentle and sweet sweetsleep to the odourless Tears of Lys to the savoury basilisk blood that will drive any beast mad (or man).

Lastly, he learned to change his face. It was a strange magic that allowed him to take another man's face and make it his own. Although, when he looked inside of his own body, nothing was different… only the outer appearance. After learning this type of magic, he put it to practice in Braavos and infiltrated the Iron Bank while making the rest of the Faceless men take care of the Sealord.

…

It was not long until Braavos was secured, with the Sealord and magisters now green-eyed. The Sealord of Braavos then declared his support for House Targaryen, providing his navy to the master of ships and Lord admiral himself. Aerion then took this navy south, merging it with his fleets at King's Landing and Lys.

"You said one year, right? She can't seduce me half a world away." Aerion laughed.

"Hmph, that wouldn't count."

"You never said anything about distance. When you make bets with me… you ought to be more specific."

"You said I was 'hardly worthwhile' and yet you're grinning…"

"Every victory over you is quite sweet." Aerion shrugged.

"Alright…good thing is these days don't count. You have to be in Visenya's vicinity for a year."

"Moving the goalpost, I see. Not that I was interested in the bet anyway."

"Mhm… right."

~

Aerion left much of his navy at Lys, which was conveniently near Sunspear, and sailed east. He landed in Volantis and took some more gold before sailing out to Astapor. His journey at sea had taken quite a few moons despite the use of magic but Aerion was fine with taking his time. He quite enjoyed the sea and spent the days finishing off his set of books, practising magic and living his life with Jocelyn.

…

Aerion went over to the Unsullied masters to bargain, accompanied by Bellona and Jocelyn.

"The Unsullied have something better than strength. They have discipline." The slave master told Aerion in high valyrian, a tongue Aerion was more than fluent in. "They are the lockstep legions of Old Ghis come again, absolutely obedient, absolutely loyal and utterly without fear."

"How many of them do you have?" Aerion asked, looking down on the slaver.

"Six thousand six hundred and sixty-nine fully trained and blooded Unsullied. The Unsullied are the finest foot in the world... so how many do you intend to buy?"

"Sixty-nine, sixty-nine?" Rhae tilted his head.

"I see... well, I have plenty of gold and jewels to start." Aerion glanced back as Soul Knights dropped chests full of riches.

...

"I would give you six thousand of the Unsullied for this amount."

"Oh?" Aerion raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "My friend... you must understand. These are terribly hard times. War is on the horizon... a great war. It is equally a great opportunity for your Unsullied to spread their fame far west to the Seven Kingdoms. Surely you could spare me the rest for free?"

"Unsullied are not cheap, 'my friend'."

'In that case...'

"You want to give them for free." Aerion stared at the slaver, his violet eyes glowing and visibly shaking the man as they stared into him. He extended his hand and opened his palm. "Go on..."

"I want to give them for free." The slaver nodded, giving the whip to Aerion. "Pleasure doing business."

"You are a good man." Aerion grinned, turning away as his Soul Knights took back the chests of gold.

Once the whip entered Aerion's hand, the slaver stood in disbelief after Aerion's gaze left him. He shook himself and realised that it was Aerion who held the whip.

"What... why are you taking the gold away? This wasn't what we agreed upon!"

"You said you wanted to give them for free." Aerion laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "So I took them for free. Do not fret, I'll use them better than you ever could."

"Unsullied, slay thi-."

BOOM.

Thud.

The slaver was struck by lightning, falling to the ground as a not so good-looking corpse. Well, he didn't have great looks either way.

"Looks like he was thunderstruck." Aerion chuckled, turning to Bellona. "I'm learning your tricks."

"You still need much work in the manipulation regard. After all, yours only lasted for as long as you looked at him... even with such a weak-willed mortal."

"We have the archers and now we have the infantry." Jocelyn remarked. "What about cavalry?"

"Why, I am the cavalry." Aerion smiled, looking at his new army of Unsullied as the unsettled masters began to look displeased. "Unsullied! Prove your loyalty to your new master... and slay your previous owners!"

The sound of thousands of Unsullied stepping forward resounded in the plaza... almost deafening the screams of their old masters. Meanwhile, Aerion looked at his whip and burned it into ash. When the Good Masters of Astapor were all slain, he used the Unsullied to occupy Astapor and its port. His stay did not end there, however.

He then allowed Bellona to feast on all of its inhabitants, including the Unsullied and then took their souls for himself. Century by century, the Unsullied were then reborn as Soul Knights...

~

After two moons, Astapor had completely changed. The streets, the plazas, the homes, the stepped pyramids, the deep-dug fighting pits, the great palaces and the city walls... all empty of human life. Except for the undead Unsullied who stood on the same grounds they had been bought by Aerion. All of the blood had been cleansed by Aerion's magic or taken by Bellona, leaving a rather clean yet deserted city.

Aerion sat beside a terrace of one of the pyramids, where all manner of trees, vines and flowers grew. He mediated using the Book of Hematomancy, further fuelling the vast ocean of magic within him.

"I take it Yunkai and Meereen are next?" Jocelyn asked, standing beside him.

"You don't approve?" Aerion tilted his head, looking at her side.

"I... it's just that slaughter of innocents doesn't leave a good taste in my mouth."

"So you don't approve." Aerion nodded, turning back. "You see these men, women and children... well, in the grand scheme of things, their lives don't truly matter. What matters is our world. And the greater my magic becomes... the greater the miracles I'll be able to perform for my people. For 𝒐𝒖𝒓 people."

"It doesn't leave a good taste on my mouth, either... but I've grown to swallow the bitterness and see past it. I don't expect you to partake if you don't want to."

"Creation that leads to destruction... and destruction that leads to even greater creation," Jocelyn remarked, taking a look at all the nature around them.

"That's one way to put it." Aerion nodded.

Jocelyn sat down beside him and took a deep breath. "Since you're so great at destruction... I should focus on the one that you're not so great at."

"My light magic isn't that far behind." Aerion countered.

"... Right. But together, wouldn't our results be greater?"

"Certainly."

"Then... I will dedicate myself to learning."

...

Yunkai and Meereen soon fell to Aerion too, bolstering his soul count to numbers that he hadn't reached since the great trial of Valyria. His magic vitality count broke past a thousand and his fleet grew ever so large. Then, from a number of the slaves, he decided to conduct several experiments to aid in his search for proper rebirth.

First, he tried to forcefully remove a man's soul while that man still lived... and, though his greater magic, accomplished just that. The man dropped to the ground, although his heart was still beating. Living yet without a string of will.

"I see..."

Aerion called upon one of the souls in his collection and forced it to take the body as its vessel. It stood up, reborn... alive... and under his complete control.

'So I can rebirth a person into another body through this method.' Aerion thought, stroking his chin. 'Soul Knights take the appearance of the soul's original body at its peak... but without flesh and blood. There has to be a way to have the best of both.'

...

For several moons, Aerion tried all types of methods to give true life to a Soul Knight but he didn't reach any breakthroughs. Their hearts were of pure flame... burning away all notion of flesh. In the end, only Bellona had a way to give life. And even so... it required one to become a vampire.

"The kiss of life, it's called," Bellona informed him when he asked how he had been reborn. "As great as I am, I can't use it whenever I like. You alone were more than costly enough and you can forget about asking me to use it again on one of your dear loves."

"If it has such a large cost... ah, so you made an investment in me." Aerion nodded. "I see."

"And it has been paying off splendidly. With each passing day, I grow closer to my peak while you grow into a more worthy partner. Perhaps a decade or so beside me and you could be considered a King amongst our kind."

"What comes with that?"

"A lifespan of over a millennium, the ability to skip quite a few days without going too hungry and turn others into vampires, even greater regeneration and senses. Your manipulation wouldn't be quite so awful and you'd also be able to see the world in different ways. The thoughts of those around you would be far more clear... at times, you would even be able to hear them out loud."

"... Like you do to me."

"Don't fret, there may yet come a day when you can hide secrets from me." Bellona laughed. "You know... regarding your wonderful Targaryen bloodline, I suspect a very terrible thing."

"What?"

"Aegon has fucked his beautiful sister-wives, specifically Rhaenys, plenty of times over the years... but no children have come from it. Not for a decade of marriage, is it?" Bellona played with her hair. "What if your great, magnificent, splendid, ancestor is, in truth, sterile?"

"... Sterile?" Aerion frowned. "Then how did Maegor and Aenys come to be in the later years?"

"Well, I might have an idea where you and your father's good singing voices might have come from." Bellona laughed once again. "Ah, those singers Rhaenys keeps around her... perhaps Aegon had to make some bitter sacrifices knowing his terrible situation."

"... No, I refuse to believe that." Aerion shook his head. "This theory of yours would mean that Aenys was a bastard... and Aegon wasn't my ancestor."

"You must also be thinking of Visenya and her son... how did Maegor's line die again?"

"It never truly began. All of his children were stillborn... some more monstrous than others. That's why he married so many women and yet none of them gave him any healthy children." Aerion replied, frowning.

"Yes, what if he was the problem? Surely, after so many wives, the blame should be pointed to his unnatural seed and not where it lands."

"..." Aerion paused, recalling all of the rumours he knew about Visenya. Her unwavering faithfulness to Aegon, playing with poisons... and... dabbling with dark sorceries.

"... It can't be."

"You know my theory might hold truth but you just don't want to acknowledge it." Bellona chuckled. "That is fine, if those two 'sons' of Aegon do come into the world, we can examine both of them."

"It is better to know the truth rather than hide from it." Aerion nodded.

~

Start of 4 AC, Lys.

The greatest fleet in recent memory gathered at Lys the Lovely, covering quite a vast portion of the sea around it. It included four hundred ships and thirty thousand men, six thousand of which were Unsullied, ten thousand of which were goldenheart archers and the rest were less impressive men at arms. Still... they could only be killed by dragonglass and valyrian steel while possessing inhuman strength.

In essence, Aerion didn't know what 'too much' meant.

Leaving his fleet on standby, Aerion took flight to King's Landing in hopes of reuniting with the Targaryens and finding out the current situation. Perhaps things had gone a little differently...

...

In the small council chamber, Aerion walked in on a meeting. In his presence, every member turned to him with shock.

"Ah, my friends... it has been quite a while, hasn't it?" Aerion chuckled.

"Where have you been?" Aegon frowned deeply. "It was under your suggestion that I started this conquest... and yet the moment it started, you flew away."

"Seems that things aren't going so well if you're so disappointed in my absence."

"What you said about the Dornishmen was true... they are stubborn to the bone." Visenya stated, sighing. "They would rather abandon their castles than bend the knee. Even when we leave a garrison, they emerge from the sands and put the garrisons all to the sword."

"What of our armies?"

"Harlan Tyrell's host was lost in the deserts of Dorne while Orys was defeated and captured," Rhaenys replied. "Only Aegon's host remains... and even that one is barely holding on."

"... What of Sunspear?"

"We did take the castle and place Lord Rosby as its castellan. However, as soon as we left, the Dornishmen rebelled and Meria Martell threw him out of a window."

"Ah..." Aerion smiled a little, finding it hard to hide his amusement. "Thrown out of a window by an old woman."

"You seem to find this all amusing." Aegon frowned. "Perhaps you have a strategy to share, Lord admiral?"

'Didn't know the Dornish could frustrate Aegon the Conqueror this much...'

"Yes, I do." Aerion smiled, placing his hand on Ambition's pummel. "Your dragons could burn every last castle in Dorne twice, thrice... hell, even ten times over and it wouldn't make a bloody difference. The Martells will not bend... their lords will not bend and their people will not bend. Not in the rather lacklustre way you wish to conquer them, anyway."

"And what way would work?" Aegon glared at him.

"My way."