"To ride the storm, you must first become the lightning."—Vaelyxa Rygarion, the Thunderborn, First Rider of Stormwyrms
Vaeron Vórenyx returned to Volnyr Hold with blood on his hands, fire in his veins, and the dragon egg strapped to his back in a cradle of hardened wyvern-hide.
The journey through the ashlands was silent. The team said little after their victory—Nyrax humming his assassin's lullabies, Ivanna retreating into silent meditation, and Sira watching Vaeron with those colorless, haunted eyes.
The egg pulsed with living lightning. It had begun to bond. And the system confirmed what his heart already knew:
[Nyessyx: Stormheart Egg – Bond Level 1/10]Hatch Progress: 8%Mood: Curious, Tempered
But it was not just the egg that had changed. Vaeron's body crackled with dormant sparks, skin fever-hot at night, his eyes occasionally flaring with faint arcs of static. The bond had left a mark—not only magical but political.
Because now, he had something everyone in Valyria wanted.
🏛 Return to Volnyr Hold
Lord Xalor awaited him on the obsidian dais, surrounded by the glowing masks of the Inner Circle—the twelve highest-ranking family members, including Highsmiths, Spellbinders, Beastcallers, and Matron-Oracles.
The moment Vaeron dropped to one knee and presented the egg, the entire chamber exhaled as one.
A heartbeat later, the room erupted in gasps and whispered oaths. Golden lightning cracked across the egg's surface, pulsing like a live storm captured in glass.
"Stormheart," one of the Inner Circle whispered. "A trueborn Tempest Dragon."
Even Lord Xalor looked shaken.
"You retrieved a bonded Stormheart… and lived?"
"I retrieved it," Vaeron said, rising to his feet, "because it called to me."
Silence.
Then—slowly, deliberately—Lord Xalor knelt and touched the egg.
A ritual gesture of recognition.
"You are now Stormborne, Vaeron Vórenyx. A Rider in name, and soon in truth. Your egg will hatch under our gaze. You shall train beneath the Wyrmsages. You will be tested beyond blood."
Vaeron bowed slightly, his expression unreadable.
[New Title: Stormborne – Prestige +25][System Notice: You are now a recognized Dragonlord Heir][Valyrian Houses: Political Standing Increased with 4 Houses. Rivalry Declared: House Rygarion]
🐍 Family Fangs in the Dark
Victory did not bring peace.
Later that night, he received a summons—not from his father, but from Grandmother Velkarys, the oldest living Vórenyx and wielder of the Mirror Eyes.
Her tower was shrouded in darkness, its staircase carved from bones of extinct beasts, and each step whispered secrets long buried.
She sat beside a black mirror framed in weirwood, her hair a silver tangle down her back, her eyes covered with a blindfold carved from obsidian scales.
"You've made too much noise," she rasped.
"I was given a task. I completed it."
"You exposed yourself. You humiliated Vaelarion. He lives, but barely. His allies are stirring. His mother—Lady Ysera—plots already."
"Let them," Vaeron said coldly.
Velkarys grinned, revealing jagged, yellow teeth.
"Good. That's the voice of a true Vórenyx. But know this—eggs are currency, not power. A dragon is power. But to tame one…"
She pointed at the mirror.
"…you must first face what's inside that glass."
And the mirror shimmered.
He saw himself—not as he was, but as he would be: armored in dark silver, riding a lightning dragon into battle, surrounded by ash, fire, and a sea of dead Valyrians.
He stepped back, shaken.
[New Insight: Mirror Visions – Future Threadline Unlocked]Possible Destiny Branches: Conqueror, Betrayer, Savior, Monster
🐉 Dragon Taming Begins
Within the Dragon Cisterns, vast caverns deep below the hold, Vaeron began training with the Wyrmsages—masters of flamecraft, beast-lore, and psychic tethering.
His egg rested on a glyph-marked pedestal, absorbing fire, chants, and his blood. Daily.
[Nyessyx Bond Progress: 28%]Hatch Window: 10–14 DaysNew Trait: Shock Pulse – Will defend self when threatened
He learned the Primordial Tongue—Valyrian so ancient that even the dragons trembled to hear it. He meditated for hours, enduring burns, hallucinations, and mind-break visions forced by dragon dreams.
He did not break.
Others did.
One young cousin, arrogant and full of pride, tried to bond with a fire-drake. The creature rejected him, then melted half his face.
And still Vaeron stood tall, storm gathering in his gaze.
⚖️ The Political Game Deepens
The Rygarions made their move.
A message arrived on the wings of a charred raven:
"You stole our heir. You desecrate the pact. We demand restitution, or we will take your blood in kind."
Lord Xalor convened the Inner Circle. Arguments exploded.
Some called for war.
Others for deception.
Vaeron, invited for the first time as a Stormborne, spoke calmly:
"We don't appease thieves. But we don't attack yet. We outmaneuver them."
He proposed a plan: infiltrate Rygarion's allies—House Theryss, known for breeding cloud serpents—and poison their dragon hatchlings with slow hexes, weakening their aerial might without open war.
The council approved the mission.
And so, Vaeron sent Nyrax and Ivanna ahead—agents of silence.
[New Strategy Mission Deployed: Serpent's Shadow]Objective: Weaken House Theryss from within. Reward: Strategic Advantage, Sabotage Bonus
The game had truly begun.
⚔️ Sibling War Looming
But trouble brewed at home.
Vaelarion, healing in silence, began gathering allies. A faction of Vórenyx loyal to Lady Ysera, and those who feared Vaeron's fast rise.
His brother's whisper spread:
"He is no heir. He is an invader. I will burn his egg myself."
It would be civil war soon. Within his own bloodline.
🐣 End of Chapter 4
Next: Chapter 5 – "Hatchling and Hounds"The egg hatches—and Vaeron must defend it from assassins, spies, and even kin. Blood will spill in the nursery of dragons.