In the wake of Dorne's defiance and the humiliation at Wyl, King Aegon's heart hardened to stone.
There would be no more parley.No more mercy.Only fire and blood.
Intent on revenge, Aegon unleashed his dragons without restraint.The castles that flew no banners of surrender burned again and again.Balerion's shadow fell over Dorne like a stormcloud.Vhagar's roar echoed through the valleys and hills.Meraxes's great wings blotted out the sun.
Farms, villages, keeps — all were set to flame.
Yet the Dornish were as elusive as ever.Their armies melted into the mountains.Their lords vanished into the sands.
In 8 AC, the Dornish struck back with fury.Half of the Rainwood on Cape Wrath was put to the torch, smoke rising to choke the sky.Six towns and villages were sacked, their people put to the sword.Even the stormlords could not contain the fires fast enough.
The next year, the Targaryens answered once more in kind.In 9 AC, dragons reigned supreme again, scouring Dorne's proudest seats.
Yet the Dornish refused to yield.
Instead, they answered with boldness:Lord Fowler attacked Nightsong, taking hundreds hostage.Ser Joffrey Dayne, Sword of the Morning, led a daring march to the very walls of Oldtown, razing fields and villages in the shadow of the Hightower itself.
No longer could the lords of the Reach feel safe behind their high walls.The war had turned savage beyond imagining.
In 10 AC, Aegon unleashed his fury for a third time.
The dragons came roaring again —Starfall burned.Skyreach smoldered.And at Hellholt, seat of House Uller, death awaited.
Queen Rhaenys Targaryen herself soared above the Hellholt astride Meraxes, determined to break the stubborn Dornish spirit.She circled once, twice, preparing to unleash dragonfire upon the fortress.
But the Ullers had prepared their defense.
From the castle walls, a massive scorpion was loosed —a great iron bolt, aimed true.
It struck Meraxes in the eye with a sickening crack.
The mighty dragon screamed, a sound that tore the heavens.Wings faltering, Meraxes twisted and fell from the sky, smashing into the castle below.
The highest tower of the Hellholt crumbled.The great curtain wall split open like a rotten fruit.Fire and stone rained in all directions.
Yet when the dust settled, it was clear:Meraxes was dead.And Queen Rhaenys was lost with her.
Some say she was killed in the fall.Others whispered she lived long enough to crawl from the wreckage, only to be slain by the Dornish spears.The truth would be forever shrouded in smoke and blood.
When word of Rhaenys's death reached King's Landing, a great wail arose in the Red Keep.King Aegon, who had borne every burden of rule with stoic calm, withdrew into silence for days.
It was said that never before, nor ever after, would Aegon the Conqueror's wrath burn so hot.
The death of Queen Rhaenys would mark the darkest hour of the war, and the fire that would consume Dorne had only just begun.