Hours passed, and it was midnight in Meereen. After a history defining and momentous day, a semblance of calm had finally returned to the city. Though it would take a few weeks before complete order was restored, for now, peace had settled over the night.
Jon stood on the terrace of his balcony. He had not yet cleaned himself of the blood that soaked his body, face, and clothes. The blood had dried, forming a crusted layer on his skin. But that was not on his mind right now.
For he was about to do something monumental. Something whose significance was no less than, perhaps even greater than, his capture of Meereen and Yunkai.
He was going to hatch his dragons. 5 of them.
"Why have you gathered this pile?" Slyvia asked, her eyes narrowed as she looked at the towering heap of wood Jon had stacked in the centre of the terrace.
The pile stood nearly ten feet high. He had not had to work too hard to gather this pyre of woods, for, he had discovered a large stockpile of wood in one of the mansion's storage chambers.
Slyvia, who had a guarantee to not betray him, was the only person who would witness the event and know the truth. And she was also the only one who had unrestricted access to this part of the mansion.
Hiding dragons forever was impossible, but Jon intended to keep them a secret for as long as he could, at least until they could breathe fire and defend themselves.
Van Haos, the Astapori merchant whom Jon had entrusted with buying the dragon eggs from Illyrio Mopatis, had completed his mission flawlessly.
The eggs had been delivered to Jon a month ago, but he had waited, specifically, for the fall of Meereen.
One year of unrestricted supply of whatever he demanded, at market price. No exclusivity. No prohibition on other merchants selling alcohol in Pentos. That had been Jon's final offer for the eggs and Illyrio had agreed.
According to Van Haos, the Pentosi magister had feigned great reluctance to part with his priceless treasure repeatedly urging Van Haos to remind Lord Aeos not to forget the generosity and big heartedness Illyrio had shown should the time ever come.
Jon had already studied the Great Pyramid of Meereen. Thanks to its towering height and isolation, hiding the dragons would be manageable at least while they were small.
As long as they did not fly in broad daylight, he could keep them hidden. Not that they would be able to fly far in their early days anyway.
It was not fear driving his caution but prudence. Better to be safe than sorry. He did not want even more attention shifting towards him. Capturing three cities had already made him a focal point of attention.
In the coming months, not only would the dragons grow, but now, with three cities under his command, his ability to wage larger wars with bigger armies would expand.
He would spend the next few months consolidating his power before beginning the second phase of conquest.
Little did he know, many of those plans were about to shift, dramatically, because of what was about to unfold.
"You will see," Jon replied to Slyvia's earlier question as he walked toward the pile.
He placed his palm upon the stacked wood, and five eggs appeared atop the heap. They had been stored in his bracelet.
A knife appeared in his hands from his storage bracelet. Next moment, he made a gash in his palm as drops of blood flowed on all the five eggs.
Slyvia narrowed her eyes, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend what madness her lord was about to attempt.
Reddish black, golden, and green were the colours of the three eggs he had received from Illyrio. And then there were two more, ones he had unearthed from the Tower of Joy, one a smoky grey, the other an obsidian black.
After carefully setting the eggs on the pile, Jon stepped away and approached one of the terrace walls, unstrapping a flaming torch mounted on a bracket.
Slyvia's brows furrowed in disbelief. Was he… trying to burn the eggs to hatch dragons?
But her confusion turned to horror when she saw Jon stepping onto the pyre himself.
"What are you doing?" she almost screamed, sprinting toward the wooden pile.
"Relax," Jon chuckled. "Fire does not burn me."
Slyvia stood frozen in shock. There was nothing she could do now. Jon was already standing in the centre of the pyre, torch in hand, surrounded by the dragon eggs.
It was madness. Every bit of it.
And yet, she knew her lord defied logic in ways no one else could. She only had to look at herself to remember that.
She would never forget the moment she had been granted his blood essence. A moment that had changed her forever.
Before Slyvia could process her racing thoughts, Jon tossed the flaming torch into the pile of wood.
For a brief moment, nothing happened, then suddenly, the entire structure was engulfed in roaring flames. The fire blazed high and bright, casting flickering shadows across the terrace.
Much to Slyvia's immense relief, there was no scream. Through the flames, she could still make out Jon's silhouette standing tall amidst the flames. But then, something changed.
Her eyes narrowed. There was a flicker, a ripple in the air, or perhaps within the fire itself. As if reality had shifted slightly.
She did not know what it meant. Her mind reeled with possibilities, but she did not have to wait long.
The silhouette moved forward.
Jon emerged from the fire, completely unharmed, completely nude with both his hands horizontally outstretched.
Perched on him were five dragons. One resting atop his head, two on his shoulders, and two more balanced across his outstretched arms.
And yet, Jon's mind was not focused on the dragons. And what could have enough more attention than dragons?
Because standing in front of him, mirroring his posture, was Slyvia. Both her arms were extended outwards, palms facing upward and, in each palm, a ball of fire burned, bright and alive.
Jon's eyes slowly shifted to his own hands. To his surprise, though not complete shock, similar flames danced upon his palms.
He knew in that moment what it was. The power of his lineage. The Targaryen lineage. The third gift which he had received from the unknown entity had fully manifested itself in the Targaryen lineage.
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