Time passed in a blur, and the setting sun cast a golden glow.
"Hiss—Screech—"
On Dragonstone, a pitch-black dragon streaked across the sky, stirring up a salty sea breeze.
"Hiss—Screech!"
"Hiss—Screech…"
Vermithor and Silverwing arrived late, intertwining affectionately as they glided over the winding stone stair bridge.
Finally, at the very end—
Gray Ghost flapped its wings furiously, struggling to keep up with the three great dragons ahead.
"Squawk~~"
Araxes let out a soft cry, sprawled across the gray-white dragon's back, spreading its wings to embrace the ocean wind.
Gray Ghost turned and shot it a glare, exhaling a warm breath from its nostrils.
The little one immediately quieted down, curling up meekly.
Only then was Gray Ghost satisfied, landing proudly on the cliff behind the Drum Tower.
The little one had just arrived, alone and helpless.
Compared to the three intimidating dragons, it had instinctively gravitated toward the shy and reserved Gray Ghost.
Despite their size difference, the two dragons quickly formed a deep bond under the looming threat of the dragon whip.
The sun continued to set.
The glutton circled the Drum Tower twice before also landing on the cliffside.
Boom—
Its two feet sank into the earth, kicking up a gust of wind.
"The day of herding is finally over."
Rhaegar stretched lazily before carefully climbing down from the dragon's back.
"Roar…"
The glutton showed little enthusiasm, collapsing onto the ground in exhaustion.
Forced to serve as a mount all day and still having to dive into the sea to hunt for food—what a miserable life.
"Don't be so down. There's a long road ahead."
Rhaegar walked up to the dragon's massive head, smirking. "Tired? At least now you won't have the energy to eat other dragons."
The glutton: …
It turned its head away, too lazy to acknowledge its heartless rider.
As Rhaegar exchanged a few idle words with it, the affectionate "old couple" in the sky finally descended, nuzzling close to each other.
Rhaegar watched them with admiration. "No wonder Silverwing is such a prolific egg-layer."
With such a strong bond between mates, it only made sense that they would have many offspring.
Plopping himself down in front of the massive black dragon's snout, Rhaegar ran his hands over its tough scales, muttering under his breath, "Those two are practically the future of House Targaryen."
"Roar?"
The glutton glanced at him, unimpressed.
Rhaegar simply chuckled, his gaze shifting to the dragon whip at his waist.
After a good thrashing, the glutton always seemed oddly obedient—if anything, it became even more clingy.
Strange.
But not worth worrying about.
Like Vermithor and Silverwing, it had eventually chosen submission, spending the entire day accompanying its rider.
Rhaegar reveled in the experience of being a true "dragon herder."
Herding five dragons at once—who else could understand such joy?
The sun dipped lower, setting the clouds ablaze with shades of crimson.
Five dragons gathered on the seaside cliffs, resembling five unevenly sized mountains of living flesh and scale.
The glutton lay sprawled on the ground, its neck and head pressed against the grass, lazily flicking its tail.
Rhaegar leaned against its snout, his face serene as he closed his eyes, letting the wind brush against his skin.
Beyond a golden stretch of sand lay the vast, endless sea.
Peaceful. Tranquil.
"Hiss—Screech?"
Gray Ghost let out a confused cry, shifting its body at the cliff's edge, craning its neck to peer into the distance.
Araxes was lounging on its new big brother's tail.
But when the unreliable Gray Ghost moved, the little one tumbled off with a yelp, rolling across the grass.
Sensing something amiss, Rhaegar opened his eyes and looked into the horizon.
At the edge of the setting sun, the sea glowed with a gradient of reds.
"Hiss—Screech…"
A sharp, piercing cry echoed through the air, carrying an intense resonance.
Rhaegar sat up straight, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
A long, snake-like dragon with blood-red scales soared toward them, silhouetted against the twilight.
On its back—a familiar figure.
Rhaegar frowned. "Daemon? What's he doing here this late?"
His dear uncle had planned to return to Tyrosh and had only stopped by Driftmark earlier for a courtesy visit.
They had parted ways that morning—why was he back by evening?
Boom—
Caraxes flapped its massive wings, its long, serpentine body straightening as it descended gracefully onto the cliff.
Damon, dressed in black, rested both hands on the saddle and teased, "It must feel quite accomplished to herd dragons, huh?"
As he spoke, his eyes swept across the dragons present without the slightest hesitation.
When he saw Vermithor and Silverwing, he lingered a little longer.
His dear nephew truly surprised him—whether the dragons were bonded or wild, he could command them all.
An upgraded version of a Dragonpit dragonkeeper?
Rhaegar had no time for small talk. Sitting upright, he asked, "What do you want?"
He had gotten the young dragon. If there was nothing urgent, he planned to return to King's Landing.
Just as Damon was about to answer, he noticed a small dragon hiding beneath Greyshadow's wing. His expression shifted slightly. "A hatchling I've never seen before."
Then, he took a closer look at the dragon's appearance.
Wasn't this Balerion in his juvenile stage?
Rhaegar responded calmly, "A wild hatchling. Just caught it."
"A wild dragon? What a coincidence."
Damon's eyes flickered as he considered a possibility. He decided to reveal part of his intelligence. "My spies reported that a wild hatchling appeared over the Smoking Sea."
Rhaegar's eyes lit up. He quickly asked, "What color?"
"Blue," Damon answered truthfully.
"That matches!"
Rhaegar slapped his thigh, his face breaking into a genuine smile.
The young dragons in his dreams were one black and one blue.
Damon frowned, uncertain. "You knew about both hatchlings?"
The wild dragon in the Smoking Sea was exclusive intelligence he had personally obtained.
Rhaegar tapped his temple and grinned. "I saw them in a dream."
Damon was momentarily speechless.
Rhaegar stood up, dusted off his clothes, and said, "It's getting dark. Let's go."
With that, he mounted his dragon.
Damon remained silent and turned his dragon, Caraxes, around.
Now that the blue hatchling was mentioned, the uncle and nephew shared a common goal.
It must not be left in the wild!
"Screeech—"
The Gluttonous One swayed slightly, then sprinted toward the cliff's edge, shattering a section of rock as it leaped into the sky.
Rhaegar, facing the sunset, loosened his dragon whip and flicked it.
Greyshadow shuddered, grabbed Ilragas in its mouth, and tossed him onto its back before hastily following.
"Screeech!"
"Screeech..."
Vermithor and Silverwing reluctantly crawled to the cliff's edge, then leaped straight into the abyss.
Whoosh—
As soon as their bodies dropped, their wings unfurled, flapping as they followed the main group.
Over the vast sea, dragons soared together.
---
Tidehead Island, Ship Hull Town.
Before night fully fell, the port remained bustling with activity.
On a three-masted warship—
The Sea Snake stood with his hands behind his back, scanning the people working on the deck.
Shipwrights repaired the planks, and sailors, suspended by ropes, scraped barnacles and seaweed off the hull.
Splash!
A bucket of fresh water was poured over the deck. A hesitant voice came from a young boy: "My lord, could you step aside for a moment?"
The Sea Snake turned his head, frowning slightly.
A half-grown boy with silver curls and dark skin was holding a bucket, pouring water over bloodstains on the deck.
His complexion wasn't tanned—it was naturally dark.
"Brother, I can't keep up with all this work!"
Before the Sea Snake could respond, another boy with similar features approached, dragging a mop.
This boy had close-cropped hair, revealing silver roots, and a pair of violet eyes.
His expression was anxious as he scrubbed at the bloodstains with all his strength.
As if failing to finish the work meant he wouldn't get to eat.
The Sea Snake took note of them and casually asked the older boy, "Where are your elders?"
The curly-haired boy clearly hadn't expected the noble lord to speak to him and answered cautiously, "My grandfather was a shipwright, but he retired due to old age."
"What's your name?"
The Sea Snake examined the boy closely and then asked, "Is that your brother?"
The older boy looked even more bewildered and replied carefully, "My name is Adam. I'm twelve. He's Aelynn, three years younger than me."
Hearing their names, combined with their background and ages, the Sea Snake's eyes flickered with an indescribable light.
At once, he recalled a long-buried secret—and he was certain of it.
"These two have Velaryon blood."
The Sea Snake pondered this silently, then said calmly, "Keep working hard. Go to the quartermaster later for a reward—tell him I approved it."
With that, he left the two boys behind.
Adam and Aelynn exchanged looks, surprised by the unexpected fortune.
"The lord is a good man," Adam murmured, gazing at his retreating figure.
Aelynn continued scrubbing the deck, muttering, "Why is the lord suddenly being nice to us? You don't think we're his bastards, do you?"
After all, the brothers had no father.
He belonged to the nameless common folk.
"Shh, keep your voice down."
…
The Sea Serpent made his rounds before stepping down the ladder and disembarking from the ship.
As he walked through the fish-scented port, he glanced back over his shoulder.
Two young boys were still on deck, working hard.
The Sea Serpent nodded slightly, then turned and headed toward town.
As he passed a narrow alley, a scantily clad prostitute emerged, adjusting her collar as she walked out.
The Sea Serpent cast her a brief glance but paid her no mind.
She had an unremarkable face, wavy flaxen hair, olive-toned skin, and dark, beady eyes.
Her only distinguishing feature was her exotic appearance.
She could only work as a streetwalker.
Once the Sea Serpent passed the alley, the prostitute quickly scurried back inside.
Moments later, she dragged a little girl outside—a child with the same hair and skin color as hers.
The girl was plain-looking, with a scar running across her nose. She turned back toward the alley and cursed loudly, "If you don't have money, go pleasure yourself, you old bastard!"
"You little brat, how dare you curse at me?!"
An unkempt fishmonger stormed out, cursing under his breath.
Suddenly, a gust of wind carrying the scent of ashes howled through the town.
"Hiss—Screech!"
A deep, thunderous roar echoed through Ship Hull Town, rattling people's eardrums.
Everyone instinctively looked up at the darkening sky.
A pair of pitch-black wings spread across the heavens, and a pair of eerie, glowing green eyes—like two ghostly lanterns—stared down.
The air was thick with the scent of ash, as if an invitation had been sent for some dark god to descend upon the world.
"Hiss—Screech…"
More dragon silhouettes soon soared through the sky.
The fishmonger stood frozen, momentarily forgetting his desire for revenge.
The prostitute lifted her skirt and bolted, snatching the fishmonger's belt as she ran.
Only the foul-mouthed little girl remained, her dark, grape-like eyes filled with awe as she stared at the dragons above.
…
High Tide City.
Rhaenys gazed out the window, startled to see several dragons descending outside the city walls.
"That's Vermithor and Silverwing," Rhaena said beside her, her tone filled with surprise.
Those dragons usually slumbered on Dragonstone and rarely left their lairs.
"Forget about them for now. Let's go welcome your cousin."
Recovering from her initial shock, Rhaenys composed herself and headed downstairs.
Inside the castle hall—
Rhaegar and Daemon walked side by side into the great hall.
Rhaenys had just descended the staircase and approached them with a smile. "Rhaegar, you brought quite a few dragons with you."
"Just a small test," Rhaegar replied with a casual wave of his hand before turning serious. "There's a dragon in the Smoking Sea. I need the support of House Velaryon."
(End of Chapter)