Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Simple Dreams
He knew where he was.
The smoking sky.
The fractured earth.
The rivers of lava.
He was back in the Ruins of Old Valyria.
When he left, he thanked every god he could think of, that he still lived.
From the Stonemen, that hunted him like prey as he tried to find a way up the Volcano that plagued his dreams.
To the wyrms that tried to burrow into his flesh as he laid down attempting to get some rest.
He can't only think it was a divine act of some god that kept him alive and sane in time he spent there.
He didn't know which god. That's why he thanked them all. He swore to never return. Leaving the cursed ruins of his ancestors in the past.
And yet here he is.
Back in front of the colossal Valyrian Steel door he'd dreamed about.
Four years ago his Dragon Dreams showed him this place. He tried to ignore them. For a year, he simply acted as though they were just as they appeared to be.
Dreams.
But he couldn't. They were affecting him too much.
His nights became sleepless, making him irritable and sluggish in the day. Slowing his mind and body down. Every time he would close his eyes he would see the same thing.
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A cavernous opening. Black stone and an oppressive heat bearing down on him from all sides.
It was dark. Pitch black. He could see nothing. Not in front of him. Not behind him.
Just darkness.
The only reason he knew the space was large is because when he spoke an echo is all that greeted him.
He could feel a light wind at his back but, when tried turning around his body wouldn't move. He tried walking right or left, but again his body was unresponsive.
All he could do is go forward.
But not far. Only a few steps and then he would run into something as the room lit up.
A dull red glow coming from an unseen opening behind him. Illuminating the room in a haunting bloody glow.
Showing him what it was he ran into. Putting a primal fear in his heart. The likes of which he has never felt before.
A Dragon.
A silver one, large and imposing. Equal parts Beautiful, with its gleaming pale scales and entrancing ruby orbs, and deadly, with its jagged spiked spine and its large sharp teeth and claws.
"Find me." It would whisper into his mind. A demand that held no room for hesitation or refusal.
"SAVE ME!" It would scream, rattling his brain. A plea, a cry for help, for support.
He did not know why but it's pleas were heartbreaking, soul shattering. A vulnerable sobbing voice that howled out for his aid. As though he was its only hope for life, for salvation.
It was jarring. To hear such a feeble, diffident sound come from such a powerful creature.
He tried reaching for it, to save it from whatever was causing it to hurt as it was.
It never worked, every time he got close he would be blocked.
A shimmering wall, keeping them separated.
At first it was near impossible to see. Only a faint glowing barrier. A mirage like those seen in the sands of Dorne.
But every night it would become less of an illusion.
Becoming more solid, less transparent.
Slowing showing it's true form. But at the same time blocking the dragon in front of him.
It continues speaking in his mind. Its message not lowering or muffling, but increasing in urgency and volume even as the door blocks it from view.
Until finally he sees the door in all its glory.
A massive circular steel vault door. At least 75 feet high. 100 feet wide. And not just any steel. It was as dark as smoke, distinctive ripples noticeable throughout it.
Valyrian Steel.
But it was not the door that held Rhevan's attention though.
No.
It was the sigil engraved into it that had the Sword of the Morning's eyes.
It covers most of the door. It was still made of Valyrian Steel. A lighter silver than the exclusive steel it was made of. But the ripples gave it away.
Engraved in the shape of a dragon. Standing on two legs. Wings spread, head held him and proud. Maw open, roaring loudly into the sky above.
Eyes ruby red.
Just like the dragon from before.
This is when the dreams became unbearable.
The dragon's voice is now so loud in his mind it felt like his ears were going to bleed.
He tried forcing the door open but it didn't work. He tried a password. A million different words, common tongue and high valyrian alike. None worked.
Nothing worked.
Every night he would wake up in a cold sweat.
Over and over and over again.
Until he finally snapped.
He went to Essos. Over to the only place such a door could possibly exist.
He went to the Ruins of Old Valyria.
He couldn't say it was a mistake.
If he never went, he would've no doubt lost his mind. The dreams were too much for him to handle. No, he had to go.
But the horrors he witnessed while there. The fear he felt not knowing what new creature would pop up next. The paranoia, knowing you can't sleep long, jumping at every little sound.
He never wanted to go back.
But here he is.
Back in front of the vault.
Back in that moment.
Stomach touching his back.
Clothes barely holding on at the seams.
Mind exhausted from sleep deprivation.
Dawn, the once beautiful pale milk glass blade, stained with murky black blood.
He can hear them coming.
Their inhuman screams, faint, echoing lightly through the cavern but slowly increasing in volume as they move in on him.
He can feel himself hyperventilating in fear. He can feel the tears in his eyes. The despair and frustration coursing through his veins.
Coming so far, finally standing in front of the door of his dreams, dreams that plagued his mind night after night for an entire year.
And just like in those dreams...He can't open it.
Nothing worked.
The screams getting louder. Echoing at a deafening volume.
This is his end.
His life, lost. With it, Dawn.
For thousands of years Dawn has been a part of House Dayne. Its greatest treasure. What sets them apart from the rest of the world.
And he would be the one that loses it. The final Sword of the Morning, and the most shameful.
He can feel the moment his mind snaps as if he is there once again.
A crazed half laugh half cry leaves his lips.
He turns to the door.
And starts punching.
As hard as he can.
Knuckles busting on its immovable surface.
Blood covering hands as he finally stops.
He leans his head against the vault wailing like a newborn babe.
He can faintly hear the rushing stomps of the stone men closing in on him under his loud cries.
Palms dragging against the door as he falls to his knees. Leaving bloody trails on the feet of the beautiful dragon engraving. As he closes his eyes and prepares for his inevitable demise.
He would die here...alone and afraid.
"fight."
A single word echoing in his mind.
"Fight."
The number of different voices. All speaking a single word in the same resolute tone.
Unyielding. Steadfast. Indomitable.
"Fight!"
It sounds like Aunty Elia, the Princess who cared for him as though he came from her own womb.
It sounds like his Uncle Arthur, the Knight he idolized more than any other. Who taught him how to be strong. To never show fear in the face of certain doom.
It sounds like his Mother Ashara, the Lady who gave him life. That loved him unconditionally, flaws and all. Never wavering in her support, even as her heart gave out.
It sounds like Rhaenys, the Little Sun Dragon that showed him what bravery looks like. That taught him how to enjoy life. That gave him a glimpse at what true love is.
"FIGHT!"
His eyes snap open.
No longer clouded with despair and hopelessness.
No longer looking broken and lonely.
Now filled with an unwavering resolve.
An indisputable conviction.
An absolute will to survive.
He stands to his feet. Bleeding, busted hands feeling numb as he grips the most legendary weapon in existence.
He turns around.
Facing the darkness of the open cavern.
Facing the loud thundering stomps and the bestial screeches of the stone monstrosities.
He is The Mourning Star.
He is The Demon of Dorne.
He is The Sword of the Morning.
He is Ser Rhevan Dayne.
He would not die on his knees with his back turned, tears in his eyes.
No.
If he is to die it will be on his feet. Dawn in hand. Standing Unbowed, Unbent, and Unbroken.
He finally sees them.
Numbers immeasurable, all rushing towards him.
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
Mindless lunacy, clear in the eyes of them all.
He raises Dawn.
"Now, it ends."
He speaks the words of House Dayne. As he prepares to face his final challenge.
Only now, as he relives the most important moment in his life for a second time, does he hear the click and hiss of the vault door opening behind him.
"Ahhhhh!!" He feels himself yell as he rushes toward his supposed death. Sword poised, ready to cut through as many of them as he can before they rip him apart.
It is as he takes his first swing, that everything goes black. And he finally returns to the world of the living.
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He snaps awake, shooting up off the bed, covers bunched at his waist.
Body glistening with sweat, sweat that also soaks the sheets he is laying on top of.
Harsh, shuddered breaths coming out of his mouth at a rapid pace.
A dream. He thinks. Just a dream.
As he moves his legs from off the bed and his feet touch the cool floor beneath, he takes deep, slow breaths to calm his heart.
He stands and walks toward the small basin of water located by the looking glass in the corner of the room.
Taking a hand full he splashes it on his face and body. Hoping to cool off his boiling hot skin.
As he wipes the excess water from his eyes he looks up to examine himself.
Blood red eyes stare back.
When his emotions run high, his eyes always change colors.
Usually it depends on the type.
They lighten when he feels positive or light emotions.
Happiness, Joy, Affection, mischief, excitement, amusement, etc.
They darken when his emotions take a negative or heavy turn.
Sadness, anger, disgust, shame, contempt, hatred, lust, loneliness…
But they only turn blood red when his emotions are overwhelming.
It doesn't matter the feeling.
It could be sadness or joy.
Hate or Love.
Fear or confidence.
If the emotion is intense enough.
His eyes turn red.
It was new.
Only happening after his time in the ruins.
A gift from inside The Vault.
It wasn't the only souvenir he took back with him either. Far from it.
His eyes roam across his torso.
Scars littering his form.
Some big, like the one on his left side cutting through his rib cage vertically.
Some small, like the thin hook engraved into his left pectoral. Right where his heart resides.
Some long and shallow, some short and deep.
Each telling a different story.
Some of sweet victory, others of bitter defeat.
Some people might call them ugly. Grotesque.
Some might call them beautiful. Glorious.
He calls them his. And he loves them all the same.
His eyes leave his body and go to his right arm.
Wrapped in bandages.
From shoulder blade to wrist.
He didn't survive the stone men unscathed.
They got to him.
Infected him.
He thought he was done for.
But he was saved, one of the many miracles found inside the Vault of his lost family.
He turns away from his reflection and heads toward the balcony, intent on getting some fresh air and clearing his mind.
As he opens the balcony doors and steps outside he thinks about his dream.
Valyria.
Chills spread throughout his body as goosebumps cover his skin.
Whether it's from just the mere thought of the doomed lands he had to traverse or from the crisp morning air cooling his heated skin, he doesn't know.
The sun barely peeking over the waters of the narrow sea. Casting a beautiful reflection on its waters, illuminating everything it touches.
It's captivating.
It's hypnotizing.
It's Dawn.
He went to bed early, exhausted after a long journey by boat, not to mention the interesting war council he attended immediately upon his arrival.
I certainly hope they are not all so trying. He thinks with a sigh.
After the meeting ended the Queen's pretty advisor, Missandei her name was, showed him to his room.
She also had servants prepare a bath for him. Much needed if he did say so himself. Afterwards he immediately went to sleep. Mentally and emotionally drained from the long day.
Before his thoughts can go anywhere else, he hears a knock on his door.
"Enter." he speaks loudly, walking back into his room.
He already knows who it is. He can feel her presence through the wooden entrance. Though he is surprised she is here so early. There must be an important reason.
"Missandei good morning. I'm surprised to see you so early." He greets her, a small smile on his face. They spoke a bit while she was showing him to his chambers. She is an incredibly sweet woman. Genuinely kind hearted and quite intelligent.
"I apologize if I woke you My Prince. I-" she begins with her head bowed slightly. He cuts her off with a chuckle.
"Now now Missy, we talked about this. Just call me Rhevan. I was just a simple knight a few moons ago. I'm still a bit uncomfortable with all this Prince talk. Besides I would like to think we are friends now no? My friends just call me Rhevan." He starts, smile getting a bit bigger as he notices her look up at him or more specifically his chiseled chest.
He walks smoothly towards her, like a predator stalking his prey. Stopping just far enough to still be considered appropriate, though with him being shirtless hardly anything about this meeting is appropriate by the conventional meaning of the term.
"And there is no need to apologize, I was already awake. Though now that I think about it, perhaps it is for the best that I was already awake." He continues leadingly, seeing her adorable confused expression, he knows he has her.
"Why is that?" She predictably askes, her gorgeous brown eyes filled with curiosity, now locked on his mischievous golden ones.
"Why? Well tis simple, a woman of your captivating beauty being the first thing I see when I open my eyes would truly be too wondrous a feeling. I fear I would simply close my eyes back and allow myself to pass peacefully on to the next life, for I will have experienced life's greatest pleasure and there would be nothing left for me here." He turns up the charm and lays on the honeyed words heavily. While intelligent, from what he's gathered from his limited interactions with her, she's a bit naive in the ways of coquetry.
And as he suspects, her eyes turn away from his and her face lights up with deep red blush. He has to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing. Not at her but, at the adorably clueless expression on her face. She has no idea how to respond.
"W-well uhh y-yes th-thank" she stops, face getting even redder seemingly getting more embarrassed by her stumbling over words. She shakes her head and clears her throat lightly before turning her eyes back to him.
"Thank you for your kind words." She starts, causing him to raise an eyebrow and his grin to widen a bit more. Something she ignores as she continues as quickly as she can.
"I came here to let you know that her grace would like you to join her in breaking your fast if you were so inclined." She looks away as she finishes, her face having lost most of its red hue, though her neck was still crimson.
"Of course I'll come. Just allow me to freshen up a bit and I'll join you. Unless you wish to wait in here, I most certainly would not mind." He says suggestively. Powerful arms open as one gestures to his bed as it's the only place she'd be able to sit if she did agree to stay, which he doubts. Smirk in place and eyebrow arched.
She glances briefly at his bed then to his body once more before the crimson returns to her face and she shakes her head before bowing and muttering she'll wait outside.
This causes him to chuckle. He heads back to the wash basin as he prepares to have breakfast with the Queen. If nothing else, his new Queen and her allies are certainly amusing.
As he washes his face and hair he eyes himself once again through the looking glass.
Eyes losing their gleam as he thinks to his dream once again. He certainly hopes it was a one time occurrence.
But knowing himself as well as he does…
Things are never that simple.
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
WatchThisMan001
WatchThisMan001 That's all for chapter 4. A bit shorter than the usual but I wanted this chapter to stand alone. It's our second look into our Main Protag's past. I won't say anything else not tryna spoil anything. Anyway thanks for the support. Seriously. I love all of yall. Leave a review and/or a comment. I love reading what you guys and gals think.
Also, I messed with the story tags and it took away all the power stones you guys gave me. Idk why. To those that gave thanks. And sorry.
Much Love.
Peace.
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