Blackwater – Out at Sea
MC's POV
I had brought much of my fleet to the capital, leaving half of it stationed there before setting out again. Departing had been more of an ordeal than I'd expected, but this journey was necessary—Aemon needed a dragon.
There were a few choices. Grey Ghost on Dragonstone, Sheepstealer, The Bronze Fury, and Cannibal. I could communicate with dragons, but an ancient one like Cannibal? He would likely lash out. Unlike younger dragons, the older ones had more developed thought processes. I could hold a sort of conversation with Vhagar because she was intelligent—far more so than Syrax or Caraxes.
Syrax had been trained more as a pet than a war beast, while Caraxes… that one was different. I suspected it was due to his subspecies, much like my own Sky Serpent. They were aggressive—Caraxes even more so, like a rabid hound, a pack hunter without a pack. That's why he was perfect for my father. Whenever I reached out to him, his mind always asked the same question: Are we hunting or fighting? Are we in the same pack?
My own dragon was still young, but territorial—so much so that if he entered the Dragonpit or the Dragonmont, he would try to clear them out. He preferred sea caves, having already carved out one beneath King's Landing and another at Bloodstone. Like all dragons, he could swim to an extent, but unlike the others, the sea was his true home.
Communicating with dragons was never as simple as words—it was emotional, instinctual. I just hoped Aemon wouldn't choose Cannibal. That beast was built for war. And the dragons we had with us—Sunfyre, Silverwing, and Opheocus—were not battle-tested. If things went wrong, we would need lances.
And if it came to a fight, I would not allow Helaena to take part.
"Cousin!"
A loud voice called out from the ship beside mine. Speak of the devil. I turned to see Aemon waiting for me.
"Aye!" I answered.
Spreading my wings, I leapt from my ship, gliding effortlessly to his.
Aemon grinned. "Ah, quite handy, those wings of yours."
"You say that now, but try sleeping with two women in bed with these," I replied with a smirk.
He chuckled. "Ah yes, how does that work anyway?"
"I wrap them in my wings and sleep like a bat. They're quite flexible, I'd say." I brushed off the small talk and got to the point. "So, what are your thoughts?"
Aemon crossed his arms, glancing toward the horizon. "I think four dragons would be overkill for one kingdom. But as you said, we need men if we are to take Essos and reach Valyria."
Aemon had a mind for war and strategy. His brother, Aegon, had potential, but he cared little for it. That wasn't why I brought him along, though.
The Seven Kingdoms were too small for the number of dragonriders it housed. Conflict was inevitable. I had taken them with me to spread them across the world. Aegon, lustful and reckless, would fit well in the Free Cities—he would take enough wives, sire enough children, and secure our rule. He was a stud horse, and he knew it. He just didn't care.
Aemond, on the other hand, was a general. It might take him longer to spread his seed, but for now, I needed him to plot our course.
Before the silence between us grew too long, I spoke again. "So, The Bronze Fury, I'm guessing?"
Aemon nodded before grinning. "Yes. Well… he's no Vhagar, but he will have to do, I suppose."
He said it as if he were settling—but his eyes betrayed him. He was excited.
"Good. Just remember, show no fear. The Bronze Fury is… well, grumpy."
Aemon chuckled. "That's one way to put it."
All dragons were proud creatures. People liked to believe the bond between rider and dragon was unbreakable, but that wasn't entirely true. A dragon would kill an unworthy rider. A dragon would refuse a foolish command. A war between dragons was always possible—even with me around.
But unlikely.
I had found the grey space they existed in. I showed them respect, and they, in turn, recognized me. My aura held them at bay. And beyond that… I was immune to their flames.
A sharp cry from the crow's nest broke my thoughts.
"Dragonstone ahead!"
I turned to Aemon.
The time had come.
Unknown Location
In the distance, volcanoes loomed, their dormant glow casting a sinister light over the landscape. These lands were ruined, desolate—nothing grew here.
Yet beneath the surface, something moved.
Within the molten heart of the volcano, a tail breached the bubbling magma before vanishing once more.
Below, in the ruins of a lost civilization, the remains of a once-great city lay scattered in decay. Towering spires, some still standing, others crumbled beyond recognition. The remnants of manors and shops lay in different states of destruction—some reduced to rubble, others covered in a thick layer of ash.
The bones of great winged beasts lay buried within the wreckage, half-consumed by time.
Yet the most haunting sight lay in the streets.
Statues—figures frozen in time—stood everywhere. Men and women, huddled together, frozen in mid-scream. Others seemed to be running. Some held weapons, as if they had fought until the very last moment.
At first glance, it was simple. A volcanic eruption. A city unable to escape.
Yes… that must be it.
And yet…
From the cracks in the ruined streets, a faint glow pulsed. Small, leech-like creatures slithered in black pools of boiling water.
The city was still.
But lifeless?
No.
Something still lingered.
Something waited.
Something not of this world tainted evil.