Had you told Daemon that one day he'd be a silent knight strong enough to kill armies, he'd not belive it, but as an adult he understands why he has to walk this path, why this path was chosen for him, he understands his role in the world, what he was meant to do—his kingdom would have it no other way, nor would his people, he's scarified so much to keep the peace.

Coming back from the long treacherous ride from the north was no easy task, yet Daemon made it seem like a walk in the Castel gardens, not like he couldn't handle the cold or the angry men who'd been sent to kill him, it was all for not, he'd once again taken another land in his majesty the king's name, an honor he'd gotten used to long ago.

Such harsh weather, the rain fell down like a flurry of arrows onto his armor, the only difference is the water cleaned the blood off of his armor and horse, which he'd greatly appreciated silently.

The guards opened the gates for him, letting him come and put his horse in its stall before going inside castles warm embrace to let his majesty know of his work, his black armor made from pure obsidian heavy but nothing he couldn't handle, the black armor gleamed as he walked past torches, not even bothering to glance at the servants who all instinctively took a step back to avoid getting in his way.