read my new story:
Game of Thrones: The Giant Crab of the Narrow Sea
Game of Thrones: The Sword King
Game of Thrones: From Bastard to Emperor
"So, I'm a Dragon Dreamer, too?"
Viserys thought back to the vivid dream he just had. The two dragons had felt so real, their souls seemingly intertwined with his own.
One gold, one black. Both staring back at him with eyes like molten lava.
Dragon dreams weren't exactly rare in House Targaryen, but they seemed to appear at random. They didn't care about gender, strength, cruelty, or kindness—only bloodline.
Maester Aemon, Daeron the Drunken, Aerion Brightflame, and even the sons of Daemon Blackfyre had them. Even the King of the Commons likely had them. The only difference was clarity; some dreams were just more real than others.
Unlike other Targaryen traits, dragon dreams were a double-edged sword.
Many Targaryens became obsessed with them, eventually driving themselves mad. Prophecy was a cruel joke like that. Misinterpretation led to disaster, and the omens of the future were rarely straightforward or consistent.
These dreams had haunted the Targaryen bloodline for generations. Maester Aemon believed they were responsible for the deaths of his brothers. Viserys suspected Rhaegar and Aerys had them too—after all, both of them had acted pretty unhinged in the end.
This legacy dated back to Old Valyria, though back then, the other Dragonlord families didn't think much of it.
Why would they? The other Dragonlords wielded tangible, violent magic—blood and fire. The Fire Faction had their pyromancy, and the Blood Faction had their blood magic, blood wights, and genetically modified monsters. Those were weapons with immediate, devastating results. If you wanted revenge, you got it right then and there.
Compared to that, the Targaryens' mystical mumbo-jumbo about dreams seemed weak.
Suddenly, a semi-transparent, metallic notification scrolled across his vision.
[Fate-Reverser Viserys Targaryen, you have unlocked an ancient legacy within your bloodline. Acquired Talent: True Dragon Dream. Activated Class: Dragon Dreamer. Strength increased. Speed increased. Resilience increased. Spirit increased.]
Viserys read the new stats. This wasn't a reward from the outside; it felt like something waking up inside his DNA.
[Talent (True Dragon Dream): Born of the blood of the dragon, a glimpse into the future. Dreams are often related to dragons, but not always.]
[Class Unlocked: Dragon Dreamer (Novice). Descendant of the Dreamwalkers, heir to the ancient Targaryen gift. Prophecy is a woman—sometimes cold and ruthless, sometimes passionate as fire, always elusive.]
Since Viserys was a "Fate-Reverser," capable of twisting destiny and interfering with the magic of others, his prophetic dreams would be rare. But when they did happen, they would matter.
He immediately got out of bed and walked over to the fossilized dragon eggs in the brazier.
The brazier sat next to the volcano-shaped dragon nest he had recovered. Viserys fixed his eyes on the largest egg—the one from the Pentos batch. His fingers traced the black and red shell.
Black and red. Just like the dragon in his dream. And if this egg hatched, the dragon would match those colors perfectly.
"Does this mean I can bond with two dragons? Like my dual-casting magic, stacking souls?" Viserys wondered.
Of course, "bonding" didn't necessarily mean riding both at once. It would likely be a primary mount and a secondary guardian. But that would have to wait until the Weeping Sword arrived and the new dragon hatched.
He could feel a faint heat pulsing from beneath the shell. It was slowly absorbing the fire and warmth.
With threats closing in and the political situation chaotic, Viserys knew he had to arm himself to the teeth.
Viserysfort looked solid, but to the arrogant Horselords, it was just a big, shiny target. The Dothraki had destroyed the great kingdoms of the Tall Men years ago, and they wouldn't hesitate to try the same here.
Viserys had laid out his military plans—standard "hammer and anvil" tactics. Use the fortress as a shield to wear them down, then strike back.
He had prepared some wildfire, but the supply was low. He didn't have the vast stockpiles of King's Landing. Whatever he used would have to count.
His real trump card was Sunblaze.
But the dragon was still young. This fight had to be fast and brutal.
Everyone feared a full-grown dragon. A hatchling, however, was vulnerable. The larger the dragon, the hotter the fire and the harder the scales. Going into battle with Sunblaze carried real risks.
History was full of young dragons dying. Some were the size of warhorses, some a bit larger. Stormcloud took countless arrows to the belly and a bolt through the neck. Moondancer was fast, but Sunfyre still tore her apart. Even Vermax, who was a decent size, crashed into the sea because he flew too low and got snagged by a grappling hook.
"Sunblaze isn't fast enough or vicious enough yet," Viserys thought, rubbing the Ring of Fire on his finger. The metal felt warm to the touch. "If I want to win, I need an edge."
Aside from his own training, he needed to use every shortcut available.
Viserys opened his spatial ring. It was stuffed with loot—gold, silver, gems belonging to Aurion, ancient Valyrian books, and high-fashion clothing and miscellaneous items from the height of the Freehold, now crumbling with age.
There was also a luxurious snow-bear skin military tent held up by dragonbone and adorned with massive dragon horns tipped with purple gems.
Inside the tent were piles of expensive garments made from firewyrm skin, unicorn hide, giant serpent scales, basilisk leather, and even skins from the great fish of the Rhoyne and sea monsters. They were embroidered with exquisite flame patterns and studded with gems. Even today, these would sell for a fortune.
Viserys liked gold, of course. But after looting the remains of the Lannister fleet, he wasn't exactly hurting for cash.
What he really needed was knowledge. Books.
The ancient Dragonlords didn't train their mounts with whips; they used dragonbinder horns and binding spells. That information was priceless.
Viserys skimmed through the books. The ones that caught his interest were The Travels of Jaenara Belaerys and The Dragonlord's Conquest.
Jaenara Belaerys was a Valyrian dragonrider. She had flown her dragon, Terrax, farther south into Sothoryos than anyone in history. She searched for the end of the continent but found only endless jungle, deserts, and mountains—a "green hell."
The other book detailed the wars and conquests of the Dragonlords.
But the most shocking find was two slabs of black glass. They looked like fresh obsidian, dark and heavy, but completely blank.
One slab had a texture resembling flames; the other had a pattern like a smith's hammer and axe.
Viserys guessed one represented Fire, and the other represented Craftsmanship.
He carefully gathered fire elements in his hand and let the energy wash over the obsidian tablets. Slowly, faint, majestic figures began to manifest on the stone surface.
"Binding Spells," Viserys read. "Divided into Heart Spells, Blood Spells, Fire Spells, Sky Spells..."
