Reignition of The Dragon

Pain.

It came first, sharp and searing, then faded into a dull, suffocating pressure.

She couldn't breathe.

The world around her was a blur of sound and motion—distant voices, muffled cries, the steady lapping of water against stone. Panic surged as she tried to move, but her limbs felt weak, foreign. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her chest rising and falling too fast.

Where am I?

Then, she remembered.

The city street. The blinding glare of headlights. The deafening screech of tires.

The impact.

She had died.

But she was still here.

Slowly, she forced herself to open her eyes.

The ceiling above her was cracked stone, flickering candlelight casting shifting shadows along its surface. The air smelled different—damp, salty, tinged with burning wax and old parchment.

Something was wrong.

No, everything was wrong.

She turned her head with effort, her body sluggish, as if she were waking from a long illness. A small, bronze mirror rested on a nearby wooden table. Dread curled in her stomach.

She didn't want to look.

She had to.

With trembling fingers, she reached for the mirror, dragging it toward her.

A girl stared back at her.

No—not a girl. A ghost.

Silver-blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders, strands catching the dim light like molten starlight. Her skin was pale, untouched by the sun, and her eyes—gods, her eyes—were a shade of lilac, unnatural, and inhumanly beautiful.

Valyrian eyes.

No.

The mirror slipped from her hands, clattering against the stone floor.

This wasn't real.

It couldn't be real.

But the memories that weren't hers crashed over her like a tidal wave—Viserys's sharp voice, her mother's fading warmth, the cold exile in Braavos, Myr, and finally, Pentos.

Daenerys Targaryen.

She was Daenerys Targaryen.

A cold dread settled in her bones, but beneath it, something else stirred.

Not fear.

Something far more dangerous.

Determination.

She knew this world. Knew the tragedies that awaited her. Knew the pain, the betrayals, the cruelty.

But this time, she was not a frightened girl waiting to be led to slaughter.

This time, she was a woman with knowledge, a mind sharpened by the lessons of history.

And she had no intention of being anyone's pawn.

The game had changed.

And she would be the one to win it.

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