A New Valyrian Dragonlord

Sorry for taking so long I wasn't happy with how my writing was so I have tried to change it here. I think I did a pretty good job but please tell me if I can make anything better.

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As I walked further into Volantis, I couldn't help but notice the bustling energy of the city around me. The marketplace was a maze of merchants selling everything from exotic spices and silks to rare Valyrian artifacts. The scent of roasting meats filled the air, blending with the earthy undertones of the cobbled streets. The city, though still clinging to its Valyrian heritage, had adopted a more multicultural face with time, and I could see that in the mixture of faces—some pale and Valyrian, others darker from the many peoples who had traded and settled here over the years.

I continued my stroll, careful not to attract too much attention. Despite my apparent wealth and the finely crafted clothes I wore, I still carried with me the aura of someone different—a foreigner, a noble perhaps, but one who was not quite fitting in with the other Volantines. My height, the sharpness of my features, and the dark, almost otherworldly energy that lingered around me, set me apart. I caught eyes here and there, some full of awe, others of judgment, but none dared speak out of turn.

After passing a few more blocks, I made my way down a narrow alleyway that led toward the famed Black Wall of Volantis. This was where the true wealth and power of the city rested—the Triarchs and their noble families all maintained their influence from behind these towering walls. Few ever entered or left, but my eyes caught the faintest glimmer of movement within the shadows. There was something happening beyond the surface of the city. Something… important.

My mind buzzed with curiosity. I had come here to acquire more knowledge, to gather resources, and to perhaps find a way to further my influence within the greater schemes of the world. But Volantis, with its deep secrets and ancient history, was more than just a city—it was a hub for those who understood power.

As I rounded the corner, I came face to face with a sight that nearly stopped me in my tracks.

Standing in the middle of the alley was a man with the distinct silver hair and violet eyes of House Targaryen. He wore a black and silver tunic, and at his side hung a sheathed sword of pure Valyrian steel. My first thought was that this was no ordinary nobleman; he carried himself with the kind of self-assured arrogance that only someone truly accustomed to ruling could possess.

And then I recognized him.

Daemon Targaryen.

The very man whose name was whispered with both reverence and fear in the halls of power. The rogue prince of House Targaryen, infamous for his dragon-riding prowess, his rebellious nature, and his undeniable skill with a sword. He was a legend, and here, in the flesh, stood the man who had once captured the hearts of the realm.

Our eyes met, and for a brief moment, I could see a flicker of something in his expression—recognition, perhaps, or maybe it was just the usual arrogance of a man used to being admired. But before I could fully make sense of it, his attention shifted, and he was soon lost in the embrace of one of the beautiful women at his side.

I thought for a moment about contacting him, creating a connection with the Iron Throne, but then I thought about what would happen. I was a single person, the last of my bloodline carrying riches that would make the wealthiest of Kings drool. I thought about the intricacies of court, trickery and betrayal. Daemon, with all his charisma and power, was the last person I wanted to get entangled with—at least, not yet.

I turned away from the scene, deciding that the Triarch's Palace held more promise for now. There, in the heart of the city, I would find the knowledge I sought.

I continued walking, keeping my pace steady. The Triarch's Palace loomed ahead, its massive stone gates guarded by statues of ancient Valyrian Lords, their faces carved in a regal scowl that reminded all who entered of Volantis' proud and violent history.

But something was off. The air felt… thick, heavy with a sense of impending change. It was as though the city itself was on the brink of something—something that could change the power dynamics across the Free Cities. My instincts told me I was about to uncover a secret, one that could prove useful in the coming days.

And so, with my heart set on the Triarch's Palace and my mind still buzzing with thoughts of dragons, magic, and power I stepped forward.

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Let me know what you think. Do you like this different style of writing?