A song of Fire and Blood

Chapter 31: Battle of the Narrow Sea – Part 3

POV: Ser Barristan Selmy

The Sea Wyrm rocked as another volley of flaming arrows soared across the sky, illuminating the chaos on the waters. Barristan had fought many battles, but never one like this—ships burning, men drowning, swords clashing atop splintering decks.

His white cloak, now stained with blood and seawater, billowed as he parried a blade meant for his throat. The knight before him was no mere sellsword—he bore the sigil of House Selmy on his surcoat.

"Ser Barros Selmy," Barristan recognized him immediately—a distant cousin, one of Stannis' sworn swords.

"Traitor," Barros spat, swinging his longsword in a powerful arc. Barristan deflected it, his own blade flashing in retaliation.

"I fight for my king," Barristan said sternly, stepping forward and forcing Barros onto the defensive. Their swords clashed again, ringing loud even over the sound of battle.

"Your king is dead!" Barros snarled, launching a reckless lunge.

Barristan sidestepped with ease, catching the younger knight's blade on his own before driving his knee into Barros' gut. The blow sent him reeling, and with a final stroke, Barristan severed his cousin's sword arm.

Barros collapsed, blood gushing onto the deck, eyes wide with shock. Barristan watched him for a moment—once, they had been kin. But kin meant nothing in war. With a grimace, he plunged his sword through Barros' heart, ending him.

No time for grief. The battle raged on.

POV: Aerion Targaryen

Aerion's grip on Starfyre tightened as he leaped from his Wyvern onto the deck of a Baratheon war galley, the Stag's Roar. The moment he landed, knights in white cloaks surrounded him—a Kingsguard.

Ser Mandon Moore, a knight of Robert's Kingsguard, stood before him, Valyrian steel in hand. His pale, expressionless face betrayed no fear, no anger—only calculated murder.

"You are an abomination," Mandon said in a cold voice. "A devil's spawn. Your life ends here."

Aerion smirked, blood-red eyes glowing in the firelight. "Then come and take it."

Moore struck first—a lightning-fast thrust aimed at Aerion's heart. Aerion twisted, barely dodging, the Kingsguard's blade skimming his chestplate. He countered, slashing with Starfyre, but Moore parried and retaliated with a brutal overhead cut.

Their swords clashed again and again, sparks flying as they danced across the burning deck.

Moore was skilled—ruthless and methodical, fighting with the precision of a man who had killed many without emotion. But Aerion was faster. Stronger. More driven.

The Kingsguard feinted, forcing Aerion to step back toward the ship's railing. In that moment, Moore lunged—going for the kill.

But Aerion anticipated it.

With inhuman speed, he sidestepped, twisting his sword in a deadly arc—Starfyre's Meteor edge cutting through Mandon Moore's plated neck like butter.

For a heartbeat, the Kingsguard stood frozen, as if his body hadn't realized it was dead. Then, with a sickening gurgle, Mandon Moore's head toppled from his shoulders, his body collapsing in a heap of armor.

Aerion exhaled, his heart pounding, his face splattered with Kingsguard blood.

One down.

But there were still more enemies to face.

POV: Stannis Baratheon

The Fury rocked violently as another war galley exploded nearby, sending a fiery shockwave across the waters.

Stannis' cold blue eyes surveyed the battle—he was losing.

The Velaryon fleet was too fast, the Dragon Company too ruthless. Their maneuvering was superior, and Renly's death had shattered the morale of the Stormlander fleet.

"Lord Stannis!" Ser Davos Seaworth shouted, his face covered in soot and blood. "We must retreat!"

Stannis gritted his teeth. He had never fled a battle

"Sound the retreat, Stannis finally ordered, his voice tight with fury.

Davos rushed to relay the command, Half the fleet was already burning, but the remainder-including the Fury- began to pull away, rowing with all speed back toward Storm's End.

Stannis stood at the stern, watching the battle as he fled. Watching as Aerion Targaryen-the Devil's Spawn--raised his sword in victory

This was not over

Not by a long shot.