Being born is an interesting feeling.

You know, we don't remember anything from before we are given birth, in all fairness we dont remember almost anything from our early infancy, but my argument will stand strong nonetheless: we are so used to the taste of air that we don't feel it anymore. Being alive is all that living things can remember, and death presents a frontier between what can and cannot be remembered. As a reincarnated, it is eerie to...behold my non-existence, my own birth. To, for the first in two lives, taste air...

And it tasted like salt, smoke and blood.

According to records, I was reborn during a cold and ominous Fall that stretched itself through the Narrow Sea at 88 AD — That is 88 years after a calamity they dub as Doom of Valyria, hence AD, 'After Doom'. My mother suffered a long, extenuous and bloody labour, until I was delivered when Sun started to dare in the skies and began the hour of the nightingale. It was the darkest night of the year, no stars were seen in the skies, and mist wiped Dragonstone.

My almost blind babysight could pick very little of the quarters I was given rebirth. Unlike most things in Dragonstone, as I would come to understand, that room was not gloomy and grim, but a white place, with a big and bright hearth, and access to transparent glass windows that welcomed in any light. Candles, from normal to red and black ones, flickered around as tiny wild flames. A woman, my mother, breathed as if she could die at any given moment; I felt her blood mixed with amniotic fluids drip from my little fingers...

You may find such imagery disturbing, but these are our first moments in any world, our debut.

Meister Lucah took me in his arms, a low shouldered man with a long and spookable face like that of a pony. I felt his trembling, and not long after I saw his curled lips brimming with fear. Tears formed in his eyes.

"By...The Stranger's face..." Is what I remember him saying.

Then a demon sprawled from darkness, with flaming red eyes, and two heads taller than Meister Lucah (who grasped in exasperation and fear). It captured me with is nine fingers, and scarred hands.

One warm droplet fell from its chin, then another, and another, until he said in a sobbing voice to his beloved wife, in a mix of awe, happiness and what could've been desperation:

"It's a girl...it's a girl...it's, it's...by...Meraxes..." 

He was no demon, nor cruel, neither were his eyes red. My new father indeed had only nine fingers, rough palms that scratched against a baby 'softness, but he was an even softer man with pale golden hair and bright pink eyes.

"...le...let me see 'er..." Mother's words risked being her last everytime she opened her mouth. Dad didn't said nothing, his chest going back and foward, hiccups being supressed inside his throat while tears rained on me. "...Maegon...I wan'...to see our daughter..."

"No."

"...maegon..." 

"Dany, no. She...this..."

"...our daughter."

As if offering his own heart, dad gave me to her. I caught a glimpse at him and Meister Lucah exchanging glances just before handmaids and a midwife tried to barge in. Dad's face melt into a monstrous ire, and his voice grew rough and violent as a battle-axe, outing those women as if they were at war.

Meanwhile, I felt slender fingers, and unending care. My past-life...Yui's mother was a turbulent, but caring woman, and I dared to think that there would be no similar love for my second mother. And that was the best mistake I could've made. Daenerys embraced me and kissed my gross and slimy forehead. She was ruined. Her nut-coloured skin had lose all color, bags darkened those violet gem eyes, and never (before or after) her lustrous and curly black hair was so dull and dirty, so much that I've only came to realise that a third of those brittled snake was snow-white. 

"My lady..." Meister Lucah swallowed as if he gulped a rock. After a long and much needed sigh, he followed "My lady, the Seven can't possibly have blessed my hands to bring her to this world...this is the work of your gods, lady."

"no..." Mom stroked my few strands of hair, pinched my cheek... "work of our ancestors."

"And they honored the gods..." Said Maegon, my father. "Gods that we know so little about now...maybe it's punishment..." Just a moment ago this man was a fierce beast, and of a sudden he was heartbroken, almost mumbling.

"or a gift." Both father and meister raised their eyebrows listening to such heresy. "our bet..." She gave him an anemic naughty grin. "you...you've lost it...so I will be the one naming her...right?"

Bled out, a flame a whisker away from being blown by the undermost breath a word produces, Daenerys, my beloved mother, was powerful enough to press Maegon into a mental wall. Her eyes shone with a spark that could burn them all if out of control. There was a tenderness to it, at least.

"Dany...how can a baby...not even cry?"

I...think there was something important tha I've forgotten, but I can't remember what it was...did I left the oven on?

"how many babies have you held in your life, Maegon, to know that they cry when given birth?" She asked.

"One..."

"one?"

"Her..."

"so she's a baby now?"

A silence befell that room. No one spoke a word, and even the gulls were quiet that morning. My father stood there, challenged, but uncapable of dismissing me as his daughter, his little baby girl. Meister Lucah could've gotten away hadn't he saw so much. Mother held no power over a foreigner wise, and her lord, her husband and master. She, however, had something far more precious from each of them: respect and love.

"it pains me...but she won't go far with them...we can deal with it, and keep this secret between us three." Daenerys caressed my sturdy and black nails. "She will be needing a name before all that, as most importantly, she is our child, our...the fruit of our love, and duty, our fate."

The unfolding tickled, and I let out a tiny and cute little laugh.

Ever so gently...Mom played with my wings.

"Aerya. Your name will be Aerya...my sweet, little little dragon."