259 AC, the continent of Westeros, Summer Hall.
Summer Hall is located within the borders of the Dornish Marches. Unlike the hustle and bustle of King's Landing, it is known for its peaceful comfort.
Summer Hall represented the hard-won peace between the Dynasty and the Dornish people, and the unification of Westeros.
Dragons, flames, magic, and Scorpion Crossbows were things of the past—a fragile peace, a peace without legends.
Summer Hall was exceptionally noisy this evening. Everyone was waiting and anticipating.
They hoped Prince Rhaegar would be born soon, adding a healthy, vigorous heir to the Dragon Family.
Most inside the palace were members of the Dragon Family who had answered the Old King's call, along with some knights, servants, and maesters.
In a bedroom on the left side of the first floor, the silver-haired, blue-eyed princess had not yet given birth; the prince had not yet arrived.
Aegon V looked at the anxiously waiting crowd and saw his grandson, Prince Aerys, who still looked boyish. He made up his mind.
"The Prince That Was Promised shall be born from the lineage of Aerys and Rhaella."
"Let's go, my old friend." Aegon V called out to Ser Duncan, a tall man beside him. The White Knight was over two meters tall, with occasional white hairs on his head, but his body remained strong and powerful.
The slight hesitation in Ser Duncan's eyes vanished, replaced by iron resolve. He followed the King's steps. Although he had privately advised the King many times to abandon his desire for dragons and his obsession with fire.
But time had consumed the King's former rationality, seriousness, and energy. He didn't trust his descendants; he only wanted to hatch the great dragons now. His days were few, and his obsession with dragons overshadowed everything.
Aegon V and Ser Duncan arrived at a remote room on the right, which led to a hidden cellar.
In the candlelight, several Pyromancers had prepared the wildfire needed for the ritual. Some had charcoal-black faces from Asshai, others had pale faces from King's Landing.
Prince Duncan supervised them. Seven dragon eggs were laid out in a row, corresponding to the Seven Gods in heaven. The dragon eggs were precious property and must not be lost.
Maester Goldan recorded that the seven eggs honored the Seven Gods in heaven, although the King's Septon had once warned
The seven dragon eggs varied in color: some were deep green, some black, and others creamy white and gold. The dragon eggs looked like exquisite porcelain or enamel, but these small dragon eggs would hatch immense power—the dragons that soared through the skies, boundless in might.
"Shall the ritual begin?" King Aegon V gave the instruction to the leading Pyromancer, waiting anxiously.
"The King Without a Dragon." "The Mud King." He was annoyed by the whispers of some nobles behind his back, the fragile peace among the Seven Kingdoms, and his appeasement of the high nobility. A king without dragons lacked confidence before the high nobility.
"My great-grandson, I shall hatch the dragons, letting them bring lasting peace and dignity. You will achieve greater deeds than your ancestors." Aegon V muttered to himself.
"Your Grace, you must not believe the rumors of these Pyromancers! Once the wildfire spreads, no one can stop its destructive power." Just as the King gave the order, an old septon rushed over. He had noticed the King's growing obsession with dragons but hadn't expected him to resort to such a dangerous method. The old septon was breathless and red-faced.
"Septon Barth, perhaps you should stay where you belong—praying outside the birthing room for my great-grandson, instead of criticizing your King." Aegon V roared angrily. Prince Duncan stepped forward to pull Septon Barth out.
Septon Barth furiously pointed at the Pyromancers, and even the King. "This wildfire is destined not to hatch dragons, but you will be buried by it!"
Prince Duncan stepped forward and pulled Septon Barth away. How could the frail old septon be a match for a knight? Prince Duncan could not defy the King's command. He knew his father, the King, bore too much heavy pressure, and that pressure had driven him mad.
A noble King, yet also a bitter King.
I have abandoned my expectations for the crown; I can only be a loyal knight. Prince Duncan thought. He even held a faint hope, anticipating the birth of dragons.
"I once thought you were a benevolent and wise King, but you are still a mad Targaryen after all." Septon Barth cried and laughed, furiously tearing off the Seven-Colored Crystal from his neck.
"Ignore him. Continue the ritual." Aegon V waved his hand, signaling the Pyromancers to begin their work.
"At your command, Your Grace." The King's Landing Pyromancer summoned his assistant, and a clay pot was carefully opened.
Green flames covered the dragon eggs, but the eggs showed no reaction.
Sweat began to bead on the Pyromancers' faces. In the unbearable heat, more wildfire was sprinkled on. "Great fire, please hatch the dragons."
The wildfire still hadn't hatched the dragon eggs, but it ignited the floor, and the temperature soared.
The raging flames began to spread wildly in the cellar, igniting people's clothes and racing out of the cellar. Ser Duncan tried to pull the King away but was a step too late.
"Sand! Sand!" the Pyromancers shouted to each other, but to little avail.
Fire also caught on the King's body. His elaborate, noble clothes and adornments now became deadly shackles.
"Friend, help me save my great-grandson. I cannot live on," Aegon V said with his last remaining strength. He was too old.
Ser Duncan obeyed the King's final command and rushed out of the cellar.
The wildfire had spread completely. The castle began to collapse; furniture, furs, and velvet were now natural kindling.
The flames were out of control, towering high, hot enough to melt stone.
The sound of people weeping, shouting, and the crackling of the fire overwhelmed everything.
Ser Duncan ran toward the Princess's room, which was still filled with the sound of women weeping.
"Run, Princess!" Ser Duncan used all his strength to pull open the Princess's door. Princess Rhaella moved slowly but still escaped the great fire.
*CRACK!* A huge, burning timber crashed down, crushing Ser Duncan.
Ser Duncan saw the Princess move toward a safe location and slowly closed his eyes.
"I have fulfilled my duty as a knight, and with honor." In his daze, he seemed to return to his youth, traveling with Prince Aegon... After escaping the great fire, Princess Rhaella's child was finally born: Rhaegar Targaryen.
Princess Rhaella looked at the infant's small head. Not far away was the completely burned-out Summer Hall.
In this moment, having escaped death, she felt a mix of grief and joy.
"Rhaegar, Rhaegar Targaryen." The baby's eyes darted around. *I overworked myself by accident? Why did everything change after I woke up?* A mechanical voice sounded.
[Rhaegar Targaryen]
Identity: The Last Dragon Family Member