Game of Thrones: Killing to the top

The fires still burned, casting eerie shadows across the Dothraki Sea. The stench of charred flesh lingered in the air, and the only sound was the crackling flames of Khal Drogo's body.

Aegon stood tall and unmoving, his violet eyes cold, as he turned his gaze upon the remaining warriors of Drogo's khalasar.

The Khal's bloodriders loyal to the end clutched their arakhs, their eyes burning with rage.

They had sworn to follow Drogo in life and death.

And now, they charged at Aegon, roaring their fury.

Aegon did not flinch, did not falter.

As the first bloodrider swung his arakh, Aegon ducked, moving with inhuman grace.

With one swift motion, he grabbed the warrior's wrist, twisting it brutally SNAP!

A scream rang out as the warrior's blade clattered to the ground.

Aegon plunged his sword through the man's chest, twisting as he pulled it free blood spraying across the dirt.

(Ding! One Dothraki warrior killed +9 points.)

The second and third attacked together.

Aegon sidestepped, his sword slashing in a deadly arc, and both men fell one clutching his opened throat, the other gurgling on his own blood.

(Ding! One Dothraki warrior killed +9 points.)

(Ding! One Dothraki warrior killed +9 points.)

The last bloodrider hesitated.

Aegon turned to him, eyes piercing, merciless.

"You swore to follow him in death," Aegon said, stepping forward. "Then go."

Before the warrior could move, Aegon's hand shot out gripping the man's skull.

And then fire erupted from his palm.

The bloodrider screamed as flames consumed him, turning him to blackened bone and ash.

(Ding! One Dothraki warrior killed +9 points.)

The watching Dothraki fell silent, their faces pale with fear and awe.

Aegon wiped the blood from his arakh and faced the rest of Drogo's khalasar.

"You have two choices." His voice was calm, but absolute.

"Those who wish to leave, may go. Gather your families, your horses, and ride where you will."

"But if you stay, you follow me."

Silence.

And then the exodus began.

Groups of Dothraki broke away, some in large hordes, others in smaller bands, fleeing into the vast sea of grass.

Leaving only five thousand remaining.

Aegon smirked.

Exactly as I wanted.

His khalasar was already trained, already loyal. Adding too many unruly warriors would have weakened his horde.

Now, he had the best of both a disciplined army and the strength of the Dothraki.

The weak had removed themselves.

And now, it was time for judgment.

Aegon turned his gaze toward the wedding guests to the fat Magister Illyrio, to the nervous knights, and finally… to Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen.

Viserys stood rigid, eyes wide with both fear and greed.

Daenerys… stared at Aegon, something unreadable in her gaze.

Aegon stepped forward, his boots crunching against the dry earth.

"Viserys."

The prince flinched at the way Aegon said his name like it was something foul on his tongue.

"Tell me…" Aegon continued, voice mockingly curious. "What punishment do you think you deserve?"

Viserys swallowed hard, sweat dripping down his forehead.

"P-Punishment?" he stammered. "What do you mean, cousin?"

Aegon tilted his head.

"You sold your own sister like a whore," he said simply. "To a man you knew nothing about. To a savage, all because you thought it would win you a crown."

Viserys scowled, masking his fear with anger.

"I did what I had to! I am the Dragon, the rightful..."

SLAP!

Aegon's hand lashed out, striking Viserys so hard he staggered and fell to the dirt.

Gasps echoed through the wedding party.

Viserys clutched his cheek, his eyes blazing with rage and humiliation.

"You are no Dragon," Aegon said, stepping over him.

"You are a worm."

A pause.

And then Aegon turned to Daenerys.

"Tell me," he said, watching her closely. "What do you think should be done with him?"

The silence was heavy.

Everyone waited.

And then Daenerys met Aegon's gaze.

She looked at her brother, her expression unreadable.

And after a long moment, she spoke.

"He deserves whatever punishment you see fit, but in the name of family I ask you to show mercy."

A murmur swept through the crowd.

Viserys' face paled.

Aegon smirked.

Smart girl.

And then he drew his sword.

all eyes were now on Viserys Targaryen.

He trembled on his knees before Aegon, his cheek red and swollen from the earlier slap. His eyes darted around, looking for escape, for someone to save him.

There was no one.

Aegon stood over him, expression cold, his sword resting against his shoulder. His three dragons loomed behind him, their golden eyes unblinking.

"You always wanted a crown, Viserys." Aegon's voice was low, almost amused.

Viserys flinched, his breathing ragged.

"W-Wait, cousin. We can talk about this. We're family."

Aegon's lips curled.

"Family?" He let out a short, sharp laugh. "You sold your own blood for an army that was never yours. And now you beg like a dog?"

Viserys paled, his eyes darting toward Daenerys.

"Dany," he whispered desperately. "Tell him! Tell him I am your brother!"

Daenerys stood still, her hands clasped before her.

She did not speak.

Aegon's smirk widened.

"Even your sister won't save you," he said, taking a step closer.

"You are no dragon, Viserys." His voice darkened. "And I will not suffer pretenders."

Aegon raised his hand.

Fire erupted from his palm.

The crowd gasped, some recoiling in terror.

Viserys' eyes widened, and he tried to scramble backward.

"No, NO."

Aegon thrust his hand forward, and flames consumed Viserys.

His screams echoed across the encampment as his skin blackened and peeled. His silver-blonde hair burned away, and his eyes melted in their sockets.

Within moments, there was nothing left but charred bones.

Silence.

Aegon exhaled, the flames in his hand dying down.

"And now," he said, turning to the guests, voice cold. "Let us deal with the rest of the filth."