[Edric's POV]
And so, our journey began across the seemingly endless plane. I was running a bloody marathon, magic propelling me forward just enough to keep pace. She, on the other hand, kept up with infuriating ease. I hadn't ventured much further than where Raiden had smacked me around last time. The deeper I went, the more twisted everything became.
Up ahead, a colossal river of blood coiled along the horizon, its banks strewn with corpses. As I neared, I recognized some of the bodies—men I had killed. The grotesque scene, one that would have sickened a green boy to death, left me utterly indifferent.
"This the river you mentioned?" I asked, glancing at Raiden.
"Mhm…"
"Not the prettiest sight." I took a breath. "You only live once."
Twice, in my case—but who's counting.
I dove in.
The river was far deeper than I expected. A violent force dragged me down almost instantly, like hands clutching my legs and pulling me under. I thrashed, even tried magic to propel myself up—but the more I fought, the stronger the grip became.
What in Seven Hells is this?
Surely I couldn't drown in my own inner world... Could I just open my eyes and wake up?
Nope.
Alright then. Let's see where this rabbit hole leads.
I closed my eyes—and opened them on a beach, washed ashore, a sword at my throat. Scattered across the sand were weapons and pieces of armor. My weapons. My armor. I looked up and met a pair of piercing violet eyes. Silver hair whipped in the wind as a smug smile curled on the stranger's lips.
He lunged.
I tilted my head just in time, his blade grazing my neck. Instinct kicked in. I kicked him hard in the knee, forcing him back. While he recovered, I scrambled up and reached for my warhammer.
I gripped it in my right hand, my left clutching the shallow cut. I tried healing it—but the magic fizzled. Was it dampened in this place?
I called lightning—nothing.
Fantastic.
"A warhammer?" he mused. "How... familiar."
This sweaty spawn-camper is about to learn today.
"Where's your honour? Attacking the moment I appear?"
"I'd fight with honour on any other day. Today, there's too much at stake."
"Like what?"
"If I falter, I die. If I win… I'm reborn."
"And what'll you do then?"
"Everything I failed to do before."
And what happens if I lose?
[You die.]
Fun.
"Unfortunately for you, my friend," I said, "I've got no intention of dying either. Bit of a pickle, huh?"
"Mayhaps it's better this way."
His eyes closed. When they opened, they were blood-red with three tomoe swirling.
Those eyes… what the fuck?
I can't use magic, but he gets Sharingan eyes? The nepotism is insane.
He dashed forward, swinging vertically. I dodged, countered—but he read my move like an open book, parried clean, and went for the kill. I instinctively reached for lightning—still nothing.
Looks like I'll have to give up on using magic.
I hyper-focused, reached out, and caught his blade with my hand. It pierced clean through.
Pain. Lots of it.
Still, I shifted my grip and yanked.
"GET OVER HERE!"
He let go at the last second, clever cunt. But now he was unarmed. I hurled my warhammer at him with everything I had. It took all my strength without magic.
He dodged.
"I see your every move," he said, glancing at Lady Forlorn, glinting by my side. His smirk said it all—he thought this duel was over. "The Robert I faced was a greater challenge than you, and he was much older. Fat, too."
Those perfect counters reminded me of someone.
It's Him... in the past, no doubt.
"I bet he had full plate for your shitty sword."
I glanced down—bloody formals. Might as well be fighting naked.
"I've no armour either," he said, grinning. "It's fair."
"Even if you had armor, I'd still break your bones."
"But you'd be slower. You haven't even scratched me yet."
"I'll mend that real soon."
I yanked the sword from my hand. My vision blurred for a moment. It wasn't the best feeling, for sure.
I can't afford to lose...
He didn't go for the Valyrian steel. Just grabbed a random sword and waited, still smiling.
"Go on," he said. "Pick whatever suits you. You'll need it with that bleeding hand."
I stepped back near Lady Forlorn, grabbed my bow, and notched three arrows.
"A bow? Cowardly…"
Honourable when it suits you, huh?
One arrow for the knee, one for the chest, one for the shoulder.
He deflected two. The last pierced his left shoulder—his dominant side. I grabbed more.
You wanted to avoid the hammer? Now you suffer the bow.
He charged.
I loosed three more—one for the foot, the knee, the eye.
He took the first two and barely stopped the third. He had his priorities, clearly.
Then... flames. Scales? He was regenerating in some weird way.
Right before he reached me, I tossed the bow in his path and grabbed Lady Forlorn. He was slower than before.
We clashed. My Valyrian steel chipped his blade on the first swing. We danced through a dozen strikes, neither giving an inch. My blood pumped. My vision sharpened. With my blood flowing and life in the balance, my heart shook with each moment. A flame erupted in my body, lighting everything on fire.
I felt a surge of strength, grasping my sword tighter.
This is it.
CLANG.
Lady Forlorn cut through his blade and sliced through his torso, impaling him through the chest.
"Argh…" Blood sprayed my face. "I won't... lose... I need to... WIN—!"
Magic flooded back into me. I channelled lightning through the blade, electrocuting him into unconsciousness—or death. I hoped for the former.
His wounds were all... being filled by scales. I took a closer look at his shoulder wound and found the little scale to be loose where my arrow had struck it. Peeling it off was pretty easy.
I found that the wound was completely gone.
It seems like it works similiar to human healing, but much quicker and dragon-esque. I'm almost jealous - actually, I am. If I could regenerate that quickly, I'd be invincible...
[title-card]
I sat down and started my career as a surgeon, meticulously sawing off his limbs, one after the other. You know, I was pretty good for a first-timer. All four limbs were cut off rather cleanly. I focused on healing my wounds while watching him recover.
For a moment, I thought cutting off his limbs would've caused too much blood loss... but no, he impressed again. His blood clogged up the wounds, and scales moved to replace his former limbs.
His eyes fluttered open.
"You've bested me," he said. "And... didn't kill me?"
"Don't mistake it for mercy. I'm just curious."
"Curious?"
"Who I'm killing, of course."
"If I tell you, will you do the same?"
"Sure."
"I am King of the Stepstones and the Narrow Sea, Lord of Bloodstone, rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms... the Last Dragon. Aerion Targaryen."
The Stepstones? That's... interesting.
"Your father Rhaegar?"
"You know of me?"
"... Categorically."
"You're some Baratheon?"
"Edric Storm, but yes, Robert is my father, and I had the great honour of being legitimised by him."
"Hahahaha..." He managed a laugh. "Why, isn't that all too poetic. The fathers fight, and then the sons take their place. Though, if Robert had a son like you, I'd have known..."
"I'd know of an Aerion too." I shook my head. "Alas, we are from a different yet similar world, pitted against each other for a certain someone's amusement."
"A certain someone's?"
"No point in explaining it to you." I shrugged. "How did you wind up as the King of the Stepstones, anyway?"
"I was weary of the life of an aimless wanderer, living at the mercy of others. I sought a better life, for myself, Viserys and Dany... so I grabbed hold of my destiny and became a pirate."
"A pirate." I raised an eyebrow.
"... Not the most noble pursuit, of course." He admitted with a slight smile. "But I built a kingdom out of it. I provided comfort to my family, bested the Usurper and would have ransomed him for a fortune. No less, we were turning away from piracy to a flourishing kingdom of trade..."
"I... had it all... until I didn't. A storm swept our fleet and took me with it. I can't help but fear the worst." He had a helpless look. "This... was my last chance. If I killed you, I'd be able to return."
"Sounds like you've given up."
"I can't move a muscle, and you're the mightiest warrior I've ever faced." He managed a laugh. "It is a rather hopeless struggle; even I can see that much."
"It's unfortunate that I'll have to kill you needlessly," I remarked.
"Before you do that, tell me... how are they from your world."
"Your family?"
"Yes..."
"Well, it's a long story, but I'll try to keep it short. Daenerys was sold to a Dothraki Khal by Viserys for an army-"
"... What?!"
His eyes lit up with anger as he rose from the ground, sitting up. Looks like he had some energy, after all.
"He'd dare..."
"He was quite desperate, from what I've heard." I shrugged. "Anyway, Daenerys gets pregnant, Viserys starts making demands from the Khal, he gets a melting gold crown dropped on his head-"
"... I dare say well-deserved for such treachery." Aerion calmed down.
"-the Khal gets sick, she trusts a witch to heal him, and she turns him into a vegetable..."
I kept going on, explaining the current timeline. I even shared some of my deeds. Strangely enough, we had a... connection. We were both 'prospects' forged for the divine amusement of a Transcendent Being and oddly similar outside of that.
"She has walked a treacherous path, but it has strengthened her..." Aerion managed a smile. "The Daenerys I know is a meek little girl by comparison."
"Indeed, she's quite the strong-willed person now, for better or for worse." I nodded. "I fear we will have to fight each other needlessly as she intends to have the Iron Throne, and I have no intention of giving it to her."
"Just... get married."
I was surprised by the suggestion, given who it was coming from.
"What a suggestion, coming from you, especially." I raised an eyebrow.
"I don't want her to die fighting a helpless battle..." He managed to stand up, on dragon-like legs he'd grown over time. I'd be slightly worried if I didn't have my magic. Alas, I was confident even if he chose to test his chances. "Even if my Daenerys falls, you can determine the fate of the one in your world. At worst... one of her will live and pass down the Targaryen lineage."
"I made a promise to my betrothed. I can't break my word just for my convenience."
"... The dragon lords of old were capable of taking more than one wife. It should be no different for a King of your might." Aerion seemed quite insistent. "You said you needed her dragons to save the world, so why do you make such petty excuses? Will you allow the heart of one girl to lead the world around you to ruin?"
"What will your honour and word be worth when everyone is dead?"
To be honest, he was bringing up some good points. Even so, I didn't specifically need to marry her to gain those dragons... it would just make things far more convenient.
Aerion looked to the sea.
"I'd do anything to be alive again, truly alive... but here I am, powerless against you. It's rather pitiful, in the end. I struggled so much for... this. I can't even make you accept a single request of mine, hahahaha."
If only he knew who orchestrated all of this...
"I'll give you my word on one thing; I won't let her die."
It should be easy enough to accomplish, anyway.
"..." He glanced back. "Thank you, Edric Storm. I know it is quite bold of me to make such demands of you, but..."
"I understand." I nodded, joining him with sword in hand. "I'd do the same in your shoes, undoubtedly. But... you needn't worry. You'll get your vengeance, you'll have your throne, and your family will be safe. In time, you'll be the mightiest god of all..."
I raised my hand and drove the sword through his heart.
"You'll be an insufferable cunt, too, but... you'll also be the god who changed my life."
His eyes lit up for a moment.
"... I see it now..." He coughed up blood, the light in his eyes slowly fading. "There is light... as long as... you live."
He died, leaning into my sword.
I let him down gently, drawing out the sword.
"Bravo, bravo!"
I turned—and there he was.
Aerion. The divine one.
I quite preferred the mortal one.