Game of Thrones: The Dance of the Dragons, but I Am Daemon Blackfyre

As blood on the Redgrass Field soaked the grooves of the sword Blackfyre, Daemon Blackfyre's roar was cut short by a poisoned arrow-

The rebel who had torn the Seven Kingdoms apart opened his eyes on Dragonstone, a century before his time.

In the skies of 97 AC, true dragons still wheeled overhead. The fuse that would ignite the Dance of the Dragons had yet to be lit, and he had become an obscure footnote in the Targaryen family tree-

Prince Aemon's orphaned son. Mother unknown.

The black dragon brand on his shoulder burned like hot coals, resonating with the Cannibal's roars from deep within the Dragonpit;

Before him, his "ancestors" stood vividly alive, sharp as blades: the violet eyes of Rhaenys, the "Queen Who Never Was," concealed an ambition not yet cooled; the sword of Daemon Targaryen, the "Rogue Prince," reflected the arrogance of youth; and every cough of Jaehaerys, the "Old King," carried the weight of the Iron Throne.

Once, he had been the "Black Dragon" who sought to overthrow House Targaryen. Now, he must ride the most savage of wild dragons, the Cannibal, and dance across the heavens alongside the great-grandfather who shared his name.

Only when the ghostly afterimage of Blackfyre intertwined with the Cannibal's dragonfire above King's Landing did he understand: the fate that had carried him across a century was never meant to retrace the bloody road of rebellion-

It was to stand on the eve of the Dance of the Dragons, before any of its tragedies had been written, and ask the ancestors who shared his blood:

"This glory you claim in the name of 'Fire and Blood'-should it burn as a torch of salvation, or as wildfire that destroys everything?"

The ashes of the Redgrass Field drift into Dragonstone's sulfurous mists. A black dragon from the future is prying at the Targaryen dynasty's most fragile fulcrum with rebellious tooth and claw.