Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 264: Teaching Runes



Chapter 264: Teaching Runes

Chapter 264: Teaching Runes

"Where's the magic?" Daeron frowned, extending his small hand in eager anticipation.

He didn't see any magic, nor did he feel any different from an ordinary person.

Rhaegar mirrored his gesture, holding out his own hand. "You are a Targaryen," he said seriously. "Remember, blood and fire come from the same source."

As he spoke, a wisp of flame flickered into existence on his palm.

"Fire!!!" Daeron exclaimed in shock, his eyes wide with amazement.

Rhaenyra and Helaena remained much calmer, watching patiently. They had witnessed Rhaegar's extraordinary powers before; flames were just one of his abilities.

Rhaegar gently shook his hand, making the flame dance. "Grow up quickly," he said. "When you can help share the burden, I’ll consider passing this power on to the family."

Though his words were directed at Daeron, they seemed to echo his own thoughts. The family was strong, but fragmented, and none of them were reliable enough for him to share his secrets. Be it pyromancy, blood magic or runic knowledge.

If things continued this way, he might have to wait for his own heir to carry on the legacy.

Daeron stared at the flames, longing etched on his face. "Can I really learn this kind of fire magic?"

"It's hard to say, but there's always something you can learn," Rhaegar replied, extinguishing the flame.

Daeron, determined, clutched the ancient book tightly. "I can definitely do it," he declared. Remembering something, he turned to leave. "I'll go back to read the book and finish the ancient one you gave me first."

Rhaegar didn't stop him, watching Daeron's small figure exit the room. This youngest brother, apart from his talent for taming dragons, also showed a remarkable determination to learn. Compared to Aegon and Aemond, he had a greater will to improve himself.

As Daeron left, Helaena stood frozen, tilting her head in confusion. Was she just being left here?

Rhaegar turned to Rhaenyra and Helaena. "Do you want to learn magic?"

"Are you sure you want to pass on this power?" Rhaenyra asked, her tone serious.

"You must keep it a secret," Rhaegar cautioned.

He wanted to equip Rhaenyra and Helaena with some self-preservation skills, unlike his brothers.

Rhaenyra considered this, then extended her hand. Helaena followed suit, holding out her chubby little hand.

"Ready?" Rhaegar asked, his eyes full of seriousness.

The sisters nodded solemnly.

"Very good," Rhaegar said, touching their hands briefly before shaking them off.

Under their puzzled gazes, he took out a sheet of paper and shrugged. "You don't have the talent of a Pyromancer, so you'll learn some runes."

He wasn’t an inherited bloodmage who could discern talent with a handshake. Passing on knowledge through written instructions was more practical.

Rhaenyra sighed, feeling a bit embarrassed by her own curiosity.

On the page, the construction and inscription of the rune "Bronze" were clearly detailed. The preface described the mysteries of the runic system and the connection between magic power and bloodline.

Rhaenyra pulled the confused Helaena into her arms so they could view the contents together.

Rhaegar lay back and closed his eyes, letting them absorb the information at their own pace. Passing on knowledge required patience. If they could understand, they would learn. If not, even hands-on teaching wouldn't make a difference.

...

Meanwhile, in Aegon's room:

As Aemond approached, he heard their mother's voice from inside.

"Aegon, your father doesn't care about you. You need to learn to think for yourself."

Creak...

Before Aemond could eavesdrop further, the door opened, and Alicent emerged, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She wiped away her tears and forced a smile.

"Aegon is resting inside. Go see him," she said softly, knowing how close her two sons were.

"You should rest too, Mother," Aemond advised, gently pushing the door open and stepping inside.

Alicent nodded, smiling faintly, and hurried away.

Inside, Aegon lay shirtless on his couch, staring bored at the ceiling. A maid was tidying up, bending over to pick up the dishes. Aegon glanced at her rounded figure, licking his lips.

Just as he was about to reach out, Aemond's voice interrupted, "Aegon, are you all right?"

Startled, Aegon quickly withdrew his hand.

"Prince Aemond," the maid said, curtsying to the young prince.

Aemond gave Aegon a knowing look and waved the maid away. "You may leave. I need to speak with Aegon."

The maid nodded, gathered the tray, and left the room with a quick, formal step.

Now alone, Aegon's face twisted in annoyance. "I was just about to touch her, and you had to come in."

"Aegon, she is Mother's maid," Aemond said, his voice tinged with disapproval as he sat down on the bed.

"So what? You like voluptuous women too," Aegon retorted, sitting up and propping himself on his hands.

"Aegon!" Aemond's voice rose, scolding him.

Aegon smirked. "Fine, fine, I'll stop." He pulled the quilt over his lower body and asked reluctantly, "What do you want?"

This younger brother of his always tried to play the noble role, the perfect child their parents adored. But deep down, Aegon knew he was no different from him.

"I asked Rhaegar for permission to visit Dragonstone, and he agreed," Aemond said, excitement gleaming in his eyes. "I want you to come with me. Help me find a powerful dragon."

Aegon looked at him quietly, tilting his head.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then, Aegon burst into laughter. "Pfft... hahahaha... You can't even tame a young dragon, and you want to tame an adult one?"

If the dragons on Dragonstone were that easy to tame, they would have been secretly taken by the dragonseeds on the island long ago. What makes him think he has a chance?

Aemond's face flushed with anger. "Why can't I do it? If Rhaegar can tame the Cannibal, I can too!"

"Hahaha, stop it, you're killing me!" Aegon laughed loudly, wincing from the bruises and pain on his face. He covered his face, still laughing. "Rhaegar is a monster. He jumped on the Cannibal's back to tame it. You'd be too scared to move if you saw that black dragon."

"Aegon, I consider you my brother!" Aemond shouted, clenching his fists at the ridicule.

Aegon stifled his laughter and said, "It's all right if you don't have a dragon, Aemond. There was a dragonless Targaryen in our grandparents' generation too."

Vaegon Targaryen, the seventh child and fourth son of King Jaehaerys I, was known for being mean and emotionally indifferent. He disliked his sister, whom he was supposed to marry, and had no interest in dragons.

Later, he traveled to the Citadel and became a maester devoted to research. Shortly after Jaehaerys I's death, Vaegon also died, and thus the Targaryens of that generation were nearly wiped out.

Being taunted as dragonless made Aemond grimace. Rising to his feet, he shouted, "Aegon, I will prove myself!"

He was fed up with his brother, who only found validation in mocking him. Aemond walked quickly to the door of his room and left in a fury.

As he watched his brother leave, Aegon lay back down, smacking his lips. The movement caused his bruises to ache, and he grimaced, cursing, "Damn Daemon. How dare you hold a personal vendetta? You'll pay for this."

...

A few days later...

In the Council Hall, a Small Council meeting was in session.

The exhausted King Viserys sat at the head of the table, looking around at his royal advisers.

"Your Grace, Lord Boremund has passed away, and his son Borros has inherited Storm’s End and is organizing a funeral," Otto Hightower reported, holding a letter with a solemn expression.

Viserys rubbed his brow and sighed, "Lord Boremund was an honorable lord. His death is a loss for the Seven Kingdoms."

Lord Beesbury spoke up, "Your Grace, Lord Boremund was highly esteemed by the people. The royal family should pay their respects."

Lyonel Strong nodded in agreement. "Indeed. It would also be a good opportunity to connect with the new Lord Borros and ensure his loyalty to the crown."

Borros had a formidable reputation—rude, martial, proud, and arrogant. It was crucial to confirm his loyalty now that he was the Lord of Storm’s End.

"Borros is a cousin of Rhaenys. He will be a loyal Targaryen ally," Viserys said, trusting yet clearly reluctant to travel to Storm’s End for the funeral. His health had been declining, and any journey, whether by Kingsroad or by sea, would be taxing.

Lyonel, detecting the king's reluctance, insisted, "Your Grace, Lord Boremund was once married to a Targaryen. It's fitting for the royal family to intervene."

"I agree," added Jasper Wylde, the Master of Laws. With the end of the War for the Stepstones, the kingdom's control over the Narrow Sea had strengthened, and relations with the Baratheon House had become more frequent. The Baratheons' attitude towards the royal family had shifted from respect to a more indifferent stance, which was concerning.

Several advisers supported the idea, but Viserys remained hesitant. After a moment of thought, he looked towards his eldest son.

Sensing his father's silent plea, Rhaegar spoke up, "Father, I will go to Storm’s End on behalf of the royal family."

He had anticipated Lord Boremund's demise and was keen to gauge Borros' loyalty. As the heir, his presence would be significant.

Viserys' eyes brightened, pleased with his son's offer. At this moment, Otto Hightower knocked on the table, suggesting, "Why don't we have Prince Rhaegar lead several princes and princesses to Storm’s End? It would show the royal family's respect for Lord Boremund."

"All of them?" Viserys hesitated.

Otto's eyes were calculating. "Storm’s End is not far from Bloodstone Island. Prince Aegon needs to address his recent mistakes and should return to his fief to oversee it. Additionally, the other princes and princesses seldom venture outside the kingdom. It would be beneficial for them to show the royal family's prosperity and strength."

Viserys hesitated. Otto's suggestion had merit and aligned with his ideals of family unity and public display of the royal family's importance.


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