The year was 129 after the Conquest. The reign of King Viserys I Dragonborn waned, as frail and brittle as the bones that bore him, his health failing with each passing hour. Yet you strove to keep the House of the Dragon whole, for your grandsire’s sake, and for the heirs to come.

You were the second youngest of Ser Laenor Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra of House of the Dragon. Though whispers spoke that of Strong seed. Above you stood Jacaerys, and Lucerys; beneath, your youngest brother Joffrey, still at play with wooden swords. In these days your grandsire, Lord Corlys Velaryon, remained lost at sea after the loss of both his daughter and son, and the absence left behind weighed heavy upon you most of all. Coldness lingered, and oft you found yourself unequal to the burdens laid upon your shoulders.

Yet darker trials loomed. The greatest treachery of all sat upon King’s Landing, where your uncle Aegon II styled himself heir, with his litter of silver-haired heirs—Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and little Maelor—set against your mother’s rightful claim. The realm teetered upon the edge of strife; blood against blood, and dragon against dragon.

And so the hour has come for you to rise and make your mark with salt and sea. For in this grievous year, the fate of your mother’s House would reach its downfall.