"What word would I use to describe my beloved husband, merely one simple word? Now isn't that a hard task, one word to describe such a complicated person? I suppose if I had to choose, I would use dreamer, yes, a dreamer, a man who faces impossible odds with a smile, who looks at the world not how it is but how he will make it, a man unbound to the concept of common sense, a man with the true will to dominate—the will of a supreme king": Empress Margaery Tyrell (Mother of the Empire) of the Great Baratheon Empire.
Disphering the Baratheon Royal Family by Grandmaester Dutch, Arch Maester Milton, and Arch Maester Liviticus: Chapter 2, First Emperor Steffon Baratheon -The Morningstar (Constantinople Express 5th edition, 888 AC).
Early Days: by Archmaester Milton (comments by Grand Maester Dutch and Archmaester Liviticus)
Emperor Steffon Baratheon was born sometime in 284 AC, approximately 4 years after Empress Margaery Tyrell, who was born in 280 AC. Emperor Steffon was the first son of King Robert Baratheon, who was known as the Demon of the Trident, who was covered in chapter 1, and as we discussed, King Robert deposed the three-century-old Targaryen dynasty to establish his own during Robert's Rebellion, tearing away the legacy of the three conquerors.
So ending the reign of the Valeryians, the last dragon lord family reduced to ash is humorous if you think about it in a sort of snake-eating-its-own-tail way, seeing as the founder of House Baratheon was a bastard son of House Targaryen. Regardless, the end of the Targaryen dynasty heralded the beginning of the new world order under the Andals, yet none would know till Steffon Baratheon touched down on Essos and upturned the entire world system.
Unlike contemporary society, where the world is united, during the time of Emperor Steffon Baratheon, the world was divided into two continents split by the narrow sea, two continents with entirely distinctive systems of government, one a feudal system with one king and high lords and landed knights, and the other a system based on money and influence where the merchant class and some old families ruled in senate-like structures. People could not have been more divided, more unruly, or more uncivil.
Then came along Emperor Steffon; he saw the divided barbarity in the world and refused to allow it to continue. He hammered into shape a civilised world, a world that would know society, know peace, and know hierarchy.
Yet all this is not to say Steffon Baratheon was born better; that is not the case at all. Steffon Baratheon was an ordinary child; from firsthand accounts, he displayed no exceptional qualities apart from learning his letters surprisingly fast and being big for a child, even for a Baratheon child. Regardless of that, I believe where Steffon Baratheon would truly come into his own would be during his time in the Westerlands with his Lord Grandfather, the mighty Tywin Lannister, a man who was the most powerful man in Westeros even before King Robert was born and continued to be till he died, a man as large as life and one of the most trusted advisors of Emperor Steffon as the Hand of the King.
Here I believe Lord Steffon was moulded into the force of nature he would become under the watchful eye of the old lion.
Comments by Grand Maester Dutch
I have an opposing view to this. I contend that Lord Steffon was not moulded; rather, he was born as the force of nature he was and merely hid the prowess of his mind to avoid the snakes in King's Landing, to survive his childhood, to bide his time, and to establish himself.
One can change their nature as much as they can change the force of gravity or the ravages of time. If everyone could be moulded into being a Steffon Baratheon, every lordling would be a conqueror. No, I believe supreme kings like Emperor Steffon baratheon , King Robert Baratheon, King Aegon Targaryen, Queen Visenya Targaryen, and King Daeron Targaryen are all born different, born with dreams and wills ordinary folk can not understand.
One merely needs to look at the signs. Take Emperor Steffon Baratheon's birth circumstances: he was born on the hottest day ever recorded, when wildfires ravaged the seven kingdoms and Essos, where oceans boiled and wells dried. What was that if not a sign? What was that if not an announcement of the storm to come of the ruler descending in the realms of man?
An old saying goes, before creation must come destruction. Steffon Baratheon was born amidst blood and smoke and hammered the world into his image. If that is not the sign of the Seven, Ishtar (the fertility goddess of the Summer Islands), the Lord of Light, or the old gods, then what is?
Steffon Baratheon was simply born different from us.
Comments by Archmaester Liviticus :
I simply will not humour the superstition of hot days and emperors being born, no matter the monickers they earn. Simply put, Prince Steffon was born in the most privileged place one could be born and had the best teachers one could have with Lord Tywin, Ser Barristan Selmy, King Robert Baratheon, Lord Stannis Baratheon, and Lord Randal Tarly. He simply was going to be born to be groomed into what he became; it's nurture over nature. Humans aren't born better than any other person; we are distinguished by our own circumstances and abilities.
Earth: Tokyo 2035
*BOOM*
*CRASH*
The echoes of destruction resounded like hammers on his ears; the world had gone to hell. Bombs fell all around him as buildings toppled and turned to dust; civilian lives were nothing but statistics. International law is a joke. Peace was a concept of the past; this was the age of death and chaos.
Here he was standing in some foreign land, dying for a rich man's war, not that he had a choice. The forceful conscription act set out by parliament had forced him to fight; otherwise, his family would never be able to get rations. He'd have gladly taken the jail time, but they knew that after the first hundred thousand draft dodges, they simply made it so every man fights or their family starves, cruel and sadistic, using a vital resource like food to manipulate the masses.
Yet what could he do? Eat shit and have to fight. Oh, how he hated those rich fuckers in their bunkers as poor men died for them. What was this war even about? What, just because China surpassed the USA, the world has to devolve into death? Could the ego of those fucking white men not take it? Why was he dying here for them when they weren't even on the front lines? His squad was all dead. A medic without a squad, what was he even worth?
He'd become a neurosurgeon to save lives, not take them, but how many men had he killed now? Thirty-four? How many of his friends had died next to him? Arthur, Adebayo, and Amanda, oh how he missed them. They'd made this madness bearable, but they were gone, like he would be soon.
He could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. His legs felt heavy. Could he rest now? Did he have to drag himself to complete the mission? *Grunting*, the sting of the bullets lodged in his stomach still ached as he dragged his limp body forward and kept moving, always moving, never stopping. He couldn't stop and wouldn't stop.
I'm tired; I haven't slept for 3 days and haven't eaten anything in two. Can't it be someone else's problem? He was tired and wanted to just leave it to someone else; let them handle this. He'd done his part; hadn't he fought long enough?
NO, he couldn't stop. Stopping would be a betrayal of all his fallen comrades who died for the mission, those who shielded him, those who killed with him and slept with him and ate with him. This war wasn't about the rich men anymore; it was simply to keep his brother's memories alive and achieve his mission. Fuck those rich fuckers. When he made it back, a revolution was in order. Napoleon will be proud. Liberty, Equality, Fraternity.
So he inched forward closer and closer to the cell tower and threw the duffel bag full of explosives next to the tower, but his body betrayed him; he couldn't move further, and he collapsed his body, hitting the ground.
*THUD*
No, he couldn't fail; he was so close, so very close. His comrades' lives can't be in vain, not like this. He'd move forward, force himself, and drag himself by his own teeth if he had to. So he moved forward inch by blasted inch till he could reach the detonation button and
*click*
He'd done it; the rest was up to someone else. Now he could feel himself slipping, the darkness closing in, and he welcomed it. Fuck this world. If he was going to fight in a war, why couldn't it be before cowards and cunts could kill him from a million miles away with a few clicks of their computer?
Why wasn't he born in a time where leaders led armies from the front, where there were kings whom men would fight for with a passion, not because they were bound to? Why couldn't he have been born in the time of Alexander, Khalid, Napoleon, or Hannibal?
Why was he stuck in this shitty era where a single man meant nothing? If he could do it all over again, born in an era of shields and swords, he'd be better; he'd surpass them all. Alexander would be a footnote in history compared to him. He'd hammer the chaotic world into a single one under him or die trying.
A glimmering blue light shone in front of him, with 'Are you sure you'll surpass Alexander the Great of all people?' Yes, he was; he would be a man that no lapse of time could erase. The screen changed again.
'If that is the case, show us your story. Here are some gifts to help surpass Alexander:
Perfect body: gives you the absolute pinnacle of physical power a human can have and small resistance to poisons; transfers no martial skills. Learn every martial art or weapon with your own effort.
Tongue of Al-Sabiadise: anything you say will be five times more convincing than if it were said by anyone else, and lets you speak every language, but does not give the ability to read or write; that must be learnt by yourself.
Will of the supreme king: So long as you have unshakeable faith in yourself and never doubt yourself, the men following you will have a great boost in morale and feel as if they are invincible, so long as you're with them, leading from the front.
-The End-
i don't wanna write a kid so dont expect a childhood chapters. Tell me how you liked this chapter and if you enjoyed it.
Please commet its what pushes me to write chapters .