(Extra chapter)
POV: Young Griff, The Disputed Lands.
"My king! Right... Right there!" she moaned as my hand slided inside her robe,
She dropped on my lap and start kissing my neck. I have brought her from Lys with five others. Her skin was pale as milk, her lips soft and willing, and that beautiful piercing on her nose, as if she was born to serve rightful king!
I, Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar, only true King of the Seven Kingdoms. Set on the main deck of my ship, watching the coastline of the Disputed Lands pass slowly to our east, as this whore serve me.
There are thirty ships of the Golden Company followed behind us, we are on our way to Volantis.
Suddenly, a wave struck the ship harder than expected. The deck lurched. The woman's teeth caught my neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood.
"Ugh! You whore!"
I shoved that whore off my lap with both hands. She fell backward, landing hard on the deck. Before she could speak, before she could apologize I was on her.
My hand cracked across her face with all the force of dragon. Her head snapped to the side. The golden nose ring she wore, a delicate thing shaped like a serpent, tore through her nostril as her head turned. Flesh ripped. Blood poured from her nose, running down her face and onto her silk dress.
"AHHHHHHHHH!"
She screamed and clutched her face her fingers coming away red.
"You drew blood from a king." I said in cold voice.
She tried to speak through her tears and the blood, but I didn't care. I turned away from her and wiped the small wound on my neck. My fingers came away with a smear of red.
A king's blood. Wasted because some stupid whore could not control her teeth.
"SHIP AHEAD! DIRECTLY IN OUR PATH!" A shout came from the crow's nest above.
Irritated, I walked to the railing.
A ship sat anchored ahead of us, blocking our route. It was a large vessel, Braavosi by the look of it. Three masted and painted in the colors of wealth and power.
"That's the Sealord's ship. The private vessel of Ferrego Antaryon himself." One of the sailors nearby leaned over the rail.
I studied the ship more closely. Yes, I could see it now. The craftsmanship was too fine, the decoration too rich for any commoner.
But, The hull bore a painted image, massive and detailed. Ships of the Sealord usually displayed the Titan of Braavos, that great colossus that guarded their harbor. But this ship did not show the Titan.
Instead, a wolf snarled from the painted wood. Its mouth was open, fangs bared, its eyes fierce and bright. The artistry was remarkable, almost too real.
A wolf. Why would the Sealord's ship bear a wolf?
Suddenly the sky went dark, it wasn't the slow dimming of clouds passing over the sun, the light simply vanished, as if someone had snuffed out the sky?!
I looked up.
It was black not with clouds, but wings!
Thousands of them, ravens, mostly, their dark bodies hiding the sun completely. But among them flew larger shapes, parrots, sand eagles, and predators with wingspans wider than a man was tall, golden eagles.
They descended, with overwhelming sound, Wings beating. Cries and calls.
Then they were upon us.
A raven struck a sailor standing near me. It did not peck or claw, It just flew straight through his chest, entering between his ribs and exiting out his back in a spray of blood and bone.
The sailor looked down at his chest, at the hole where his heart had been, and fell.
Another raven did the same to a man near the mast. Through the stomach.
But those eagles were worse.
One dove toward a group of soldiers gathered near the stern. As it flew, it opened its beak and released a stream of water.
This wasn't normal water. It cut like a blade, a thin line of pressure so intense it sliced through armor and flesh as if they were parchment.
Three men fell, in small pieces.
'This was not possible.'
A smaller bird, something like a sparrow, landed on a sailor's shoulder. It looks inocent, but as it opened its beak a burst of flames engulfed his head. He screamed and fell, his skull blackened and smoking.
Another bird, larger, covered in flickering arcs of blue white light, touched a soldier's arm. Lightning run through the his body. He convulsed once and dropped, his eyes burned out, his mouth open for trying to scream, but only thing come out was smoke.
The ships behind us were same. I could hear screaming and the wet sounds of bodies being torn apart.
'No! This was not how a king dies. Not like this, by torn apart by birds in the middle of the se-' before I complete my thought, the cabin door behind me burst open. My foster father, Jon Connington stumbled out with pale face.
"Rha... Aegon!" he shouted. "Get inside! Now!"
He ran toward me, reaching out to grab my shoulder and pull me to safety.
A bird landed on his outstretched arm.
It was a raven, larger than most, its feathers gleaming black.
"FATHER!" I shouted as I saw raven releasing a thin stream of water.
With havy thud, Father's hand came off at the wrist and dropped on deck.
He screamed. Blood fountained from the stump. He staggered backward, clutching his arm.
But the bird did not stop.
The water stream shifted, no longer cutting but enveloping.
Within moments, he was no longer a man. He was a collection of small, wet cubes of flesh, neatly arranged on the deck where he had been standing.
I could not breathe. Could not think.
Whore from Lys, still clutching her bleeding face crawled toward me, she reached for my leg.
I grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up, shoving her in front of me just as a raven dove toward my chest.
The bird struck her instead. It tore through her torso and come out from her side.
She gasped once, blood bubbling from her lips and fell.
I did not wait. I ran.
The nearest cabin door was open, I threw myself inside and slammed it shut behind me. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely work the latch.
The cabin was small, cramped, filled with crates and supplies. I looked around wildly, searching for somewhere to hide.
A large wooden chest sat against the far wall. Heavy. Reinforced with iron bands. Big enough to hold a man if he curled up tight.
I ran to it and threw open the lid. Inside were blankets and rope. I tossed them out, climbed inside, and pulled the lid down over me.
From inside it was dark and suffocating.
I pressed my hands over my ears blocking the screams and tried to breathe.
I was a king. I was Aegon Targaryen. I would not die like this. I would survive and reach Westeros.
And when time comes I will claim my throne.
The cabin went silent. There were no more screams or sounds of battle.
But, I still waited, my breath shallow, my heart pounding so hard I thought it might burst.
Click
"Huh.... What.... No!" someone locked the chest from the outside!
I pushed against the lid but It did not move.
"LET ME OUT!" I screamed. "LET ME OUT!"
I pushed harder, slamming my shoulder against the wood. Nothing.
"LET ME OUT! I AM the king!..... pleasss."
No one answered
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