"A dream?"
Viserys caught onto the key point, pushing aside his bad mood.
Rhaegar was a rare dreamer within the Targaryen family.
Every significant dream carried a symbolic meaning that intertwined with reality.
Viserys had long pursued this kind of talent and placed great importance on it.
"I dreamt that two young dragons hatched at the edge of the world."
Rhaegar furrowed his brow slightly as he revealed part of his dream.
Viserys sat up straight, his expression serious. "Dragons on Dragonstone?"
As the last remaining dragonlord family, every dragon was a treasured asset to House Targaryen.
If a dragon were to fall into the wrong hands, the consequences would be unthinkable.
The matter was too critical.
Rhaegar understood this well. He spoke softly, "I'm not sure, so I'm returning to Dragonstone to investigate thoroughly and, while I'm there, to search for some lost artifacts."
He carefully worded his response, deliberately omitting any mention of the Smoking Sea or the Dragonhorn.
Both were beyond the Targaryens' realm of understanding and carried inherent danger.
"Then leave as soon as possible. Make sure not to lose track of a single hatchling."
Viserys was growing impatient and gave a stern warning: "A dragon must never fall into Braavosi hands. Never!"
The Nine Free Cities spread across the western lands of Essos.
Among them, Braavos was undoubtedly the most unique due to its distinct geography and cultural background.
The city stood at the intersection of the Narrow Sea and the Shivering Sea, surrounded by reefs and perpetually shrouded in mist.
While a dragon might be able to soar over Braavos, a fleet would struggle to land at its ports.
Because of this, the dragonlords of the old Freehold never destroyed the city; instead, they strengthened their trade relations with the Iron Bank.
Looking at the current situation—
Braavos had a strategic location, and the Iron Bank was wealthy beyond measure.
House Targaryen had just endured a great war, and both the military and the people were weary.
Rhaegar understood the implications and reassured him, "Rest assured, one Mogul incident was enough."
He had a feeling that a war between the Targaryens and Braavos would not happen just yet.
"Good."
Hearing his eldest son's assurance, Viserys felt slightly relieved.
For the sake of a wild dragon from the Smoking Sea—Mogul—
He had been willing to risk war with the Triarchy just to reclaim it.
Although the outcome had not been ideal, at least Mogul had left behind a descendant.
Observing his father's frail complexion, Rhaegar chose not to disturb him further. "The Sea Snake and Aunt just left the Red Keep. I'll go see them off."
"Alright," Viserys nodded and reminded him, "While you're away, Rhaenyra will act as regent in your stead."
In his heart, his beloved daughter always had a special privilege.
Rhaegar accepted this arrangement readily and lifted the beaded curtain as he stepped out.
He had to go to Dragonstone, and at the same time, he would accompany the Sea Snake and Daemon back to Driftmark.
There was plenty to keep him busy on both ends.
The Sea Snake and Daemon—if used well, they were the strongest forces on sea and in the air.
If not, they were ambitious individuals who constantly harbored their own agendas.
They were a double-edged sword, difficult to control.
"Wait."
Just as he was about to push open the door, Viserys suddenly called out to him.
Rhaegar turned back, puzzled.
Viserys hesitated before finally saying, "Leave the matter of the Sea Snake and Daemon alone for now. They will be making their own moves soon. Do not interfere."
Making their own moves?
Rhaegar's eyes flickered as he tried to decipher his father's intentions.
"Don't overthink it—it has nothing to do with you."
Viserys frowned, displeased with how calculating his son could be, and warned him sternly, "The coronation ceremony is being prepared. Whether it's Alicent or Daemon, you are not to take any action against them."
"Do you hear me?!"
His gaze grew sharp.
Rhaegar tilted his head slightly, realizing what his father was doing, and promised, "Understood. I will focus solely on the matter of the hatchlings."
"Hmph, now go."
Viserys snorted and waved his hand as if shooing away a fly.
Rhaegar walked out, feeling a mix of emotions.
Recalling Alicent's downfall and the tangled relationship between Daemon and the Sea Snake,
It wasn't hard to guess that his father was paving the way for his succession.
And he intended to make the most of his remaining time.
"Prince!"
Ser Steffon and Ser Lorent, standing guard, greeted him in hushed voices, their postures impeccable.
Rhaegar acknowledged the two Kingsguard with a nod and a small smile. "Thank you for your service."
…
As he left Maegor's Holdfast, Rhaegar was intercepted in the Red Keep's courtyard.
A training yard sat within the courtyard, where many nobles and knights had gathered to watch sparring matches.
Rhaegar was pulled into a corner, surprised. "Helena, why are you waiting for me here?"
Near the armory's entrance, the siblings faced each other.
Helena wore a green cloak and looked serious. "Mother is already praying in the Sept. I came to give you something."
As she spoke, she pulled out a long, cloth-wrapped object from beneath her cloak.
Rhaegar chuckled at first, watching as she carefully unwrapped the cloth layer by layer, revealing a finely crafted longsword.
Swish—
Helena drew the sword from its scabbard, and a flash of cold steel gleamed with a crisp ring.
Rhaegar's smile faded as he examined it with due respect.
The crossguard was shaped like a holy symbol, engraved with the seven-pointed star of the Faith.
The blade was silver-bright, its surface adorned with an even ripple pattern.
"Vigilance?" Rhaegar recognized it immediately. "This sword should be in the Hightower."
Valyrian steel longsword—Vigilance
The ancestral blade of House Hightower of Oldtown.
Helena lifted her chin proudly. "You enjoy collecting ancient artifacts, so I wrote to Selina and asked young Lyonel for it. They sent it on a fast horse."
Selina was Aegon's betrothed, a direct cousin of both Lord Hightower and Otto.
Young Lyonel had recently inherited the title of Lord of Oldtown and head of House Hightower.
Both were close to Helena, and a single letter from her was enough to make them comply.
Rhaegar was impressed and teased, "Don't tell me you're giving it to me?"
"Well… that might not be possible."
Helena's face turned red as she stammered, "The Hightower blade belongs to the family. In my letter, I only said we were borrowing it… We'll have to return it later."
After saying that, her proud expression was tinged with a slight blush.
Feeling a bit embarrassed for the child.
Rhaegar smirked mischievously and pinched her cheek. "Just teasing you. Think of the sword as borrowed—I'll return it in a couple of days."
"Oh!"
Helena was momentarily stunned.
Under Rhaegar's gaze, her small hands covered her slightly protruding chest, and she let out a relieved sigh without any hesitation.
"I'll be going now."
Rhaegar's gaze lingered for a brief moment before he decisively left.
He had gotten what he needed—time to make his exit.
To be honest, he had wanted to use "Vigilance" to trigger an exploration event back when he was staying in Oldtown.
Unfortunately, tensions had been high, and he hadn't found the right opportunity.
He had planned to borrow it on his next visit to Oldtown.
But with Helena delivering it right to him, things couldn't have worked out better.
As soon as he accepted the sword, a system notification sounded:
"Exploration quest initiated. Target: Valyrian Steel Sword – Vigilance."
Leaving behind the eager Helena, he opened the quest panel.
[Vigilance]
Exploration Progress: 0.5%
"Starting at 0.5%? It's probably an epic-grade relic."
Rhaegar replaced his Truefire weapon with Vigilance, making a mental note.
Over time, he had gradually uncovered patterns in relic exploration.
Valyrian steel swords fell within the exploration parameters due to their unique material.
The sword's history and the weight of time enhanced its relic grade.
Blackfyre and Dark Sister ranked at the very top.
Other Valyrian steel swords, lacking a truly worthy wielder, were a tier below.
Vigilance had been passed down in House Hightower for over a thousand years—it was indeed an excellent relic.
Rhaegar left in a hurry.
It took Helena a while to react. Tilting her head, she murmured, "Huh?"
He left just like that? Not even a hug?
Helena pounded her head lightly, her pupils momentarily unfocused as she whispered absentmindedly:
"Who has awakened the sleeping beast?"
With that, she sleepily turned back to her room.
---
### Blackwater Bay
The vast ocean stretched endlessly. Over a dozen large ships unfurled their sails, the prominent seahorse banners fluttering in the wind.
"Grandfather, will we ever return?"
Rhaena stood on the deck, gazing somberly at Mud Gate in the distance.
Beside her, the Sea Snake pulled her small, delicate frame into an embrace and reassured her softly, "We will. Your foster mother is here—don't forget that."
"Mm."
Rhaena felt her grandfather's warmth and rested her tiny head against his leg.
She was so small that, even standing, she barely reached his thigh.
Her grandfather truly was the greatest adventurer, the legendary navigator of nine great voyages.
"Screeeech—"
Their quiet moment was abruptly interrupted by a wild, piercing roar.
### King's Landing, Mud Gate
A massive dragon, black as coal with piercing green eyes, soared over the city walls. Its immense wings cast a shadow over the sea as it glided in pursuit of the departing fleet.
"Screeeech!!"
Suddenly, another deafening roar rumbled like thunder.
### King's Landing, Dragonpit
Vhagar's aged pupils flickered, and the century-old dragon's weary body began a slow, deliberate run. Gaining momentum, she took to the sky with a powerful leap.
That deep roar—it was her challenge.
Vhagar's slitted eyes gradually sharpened, locking onto the massive black dragon ahead.
Summoning the last vestiges of her ancient, untamed strength, her heavy, battle-worn wings—riddled with small holes—flapped powerfully as she tried to accelerate.
Soon, the two dragons—one black, one green—raced toward Blackwater Bay.
The Devourer remained indifferent, its colossal shadow engulfing the entire fleet as it flicked its tail and effortlessly overtook Vhagar mid-flight.
It didn't care in the slightest.
The Sea Snake looked up, his face partially shrouded in shadow, still cradling little Rhaena in his arms.
"So big!"
Rhaena exclaimed in awe.
As if struck by a thought, she turned to glance toward the ship's hold.
Her young dragon, Dawn, was locked in its cage.
The Sea Snake's expression grew complex. With a sigh, he said, "Your dragon will grow just as large one day."
Rhaena hesitated. She measured the fading silhouette of the Devourer with her hands, then placed them over her own belly.
Her shoulders slumped as she pouted.
"But my Dawn is so tiny… It's only as big as one of my cousin's dragon's claws."
"That won't last forever."
The Sea Snake chuckled, gently patting Rhaena's head.
"Screeeech!!"
Vhagar slowly approached, flying parallel to the ships, adjusting her speed to match the fleet's movements.
Rhaena gazed up once more, admiration shining in her eyes as she watched her mother's dragon.
"Screeeech!"
"Screeeech…"
Soon, two crimson dragon shadows flashed by in succession, swiftly overtaking the aging Vhagar. They flew side by side, guarding the fleet from both flanks.
Thump, thump…
The cabin door swung open as Baenila pulled young Daeron along, sprinting excitedly. Her eyes lit up as she gazed at the dragons.
When she spotted the green Vhagar, she exclaimed loudly, "Look, look! My mother's Vhagar—the biggest and oldest dragon in the world!"
Being born a Targaryen, dragons were never distant or unattainable creatures.
But massive adult dragons like Vhagar, Cannibal, and Vermithor rarely revealed themselves to the public.
They were simply too large and could incite panic.
Daeron, panting from the run, shook off Baenila's hand and pointed proudly at the massive black dragon vanishing in the distance.
"See that? That's Cannibal," he declared.
"After devouring Moondancer, it has grown even larger than Vhagar and is now the biggest dragon in the world."
Baenila refused to back down. She pointed at Vhagar and retorted, "Vhagar is the biggest! The God of War!"
"You must be blind."
Daeron put his hands on his hips and countered, "It's old! Have you ever heard of Deathwing?"
"I haven't, but I'm about to punch you."
Baenila's eyes flashed with defiance as she angrily rolled up her sleeves.
She had undoubtedly inherited her parents' fiery temper—actions always spoke louder than words. Without hesitation, she grabbed her playmate and started pummeling him.
Even though Daeron was three years older, he was no match for her.
He ended up fleeing across the deck, with Baenila hot on his heels.
"Heh, mischievous kids," the Sea Snake chuckled knowingly. His gaze lingered on the distant silhouette of Duskendale, which was slowly fading from view.
Far away, atop the city walls of Duskendale, a lone figure stood in silence.
Separated by an endless stretch of ocean, they, too, watched the departing dragons and fleet.
Their gazes met across the vast distance—silent, unseen.
And just like that, they both looked away.
(End of Chapter)