The city of Valyria was developed and thriving. It was late into the night when young Dɑenys awoke in her noble family's manse, her heart pounding as the echoes of her dream still haunted her mind. The flames—rivers of fire, dragons falling from the sky, the screams of Valyria as it crumbled beneath the weight of its own destruction. The vision had been so vivid, so real, it left her gasping for breath.

She stumbled from her bed, her silver-gold hair tangled around her shoulders, her nightgown clinging to her skin as she made her way to brother's chambers. She knocked frantically, unable to shake the terror coursing through her veins.

When he opened the door, his face softened at the sight of his sister, trembling and pale.

"I had another of those dreams. This time even the dragons died. We have to tell father, I think we are in danger."

Her hands trembled as she clutched at him, her vision still too fresh, too real.