Daenerys and Rhaenys each drew a small dagger. The metal gleamed faintly in the firelight as they made a shallow cut on their fingers.
A drop of blood fell from each hand.
Both let their blood touch the dragon eggs.
The two eggs, barely thirty centimeters long, began to react immediately.
"Clic~"
The first to crack was the red-colored egg.
A small red-golden claw emerged from between the cracks, breaking the shell with surprising strength.
Kerse's heart leapt.
Smaug!
It was not the two-legged version from cinematic legends, but the original Smaug, with four legs.
With an extra pair of sharp claws, its combat potential was clearly superior to that of a wyvern. Unlike the dragons native to Westeros, which could only use their hind legs while flying, this creature was designed to kill both on land and in the air.
The shell shattered completely.
A small four-legged dragon, with red-golden scales, appeared before Rhaenys.
Its golden pupils shone with curiosity as it observed the three figures surrounding it.
Daenerys could not hide her amazement. She had never heard of a dragon with four legs.
Kerse narrowed his eyes, clearly satisfied, and smiled.
"From now on, your name will be Smaug."
Rhaenys made a small pout. She did not like that her husband had named her dragon without consulting her, but she accepted the name without protest.
"Clic~"
The second egg began to crack.
It was Daenerys's egg.
Kerse froze.
His eyes widened, and he sprang to his feet.
King Ghidorah!
Not only him. Daenerys and Rhaenys were completely stunned by the creature emerging from the egg.
A golden dragon… with three heads and two tails.
"A three-headed dragon! Just like the Targaryen sigil!" Rhaenys exclaimed, being the first to react.
"Amazing…" Daenerys murmured, unable to look away.
It took Kerse a few seconds to regain his composure, but when he did, he spoke firmly:
"King Ghidorah. That will be his name."
"A three-headed dragon…" Rhaenys repeated, still incredulous.
Then something unexpected happened.
"I'm hungry!"
The voice echoed through the tent, clear and strange.
Daenerys and Rhaenys flinched, terrified. Kerse took only a second to react.
Both turned their heads toward Smaug, who clumsily flapped his wings while shouting insistently:
"Hungry! Hungry!"
The following morning, as the glow of the rising sun filtered through the seams of the tent, Ser Jorah took out his parchment and quill.
Using the agreed-upon code, he began to write a report for Varys.
The death of Viserys.
When he finished, he crossed several tents with careful steps until he reached the tent of an orphan. There, he placed the letter beneath a stone, in a discreet spot that only someone informed would know to search.
He looked around, making sure he was not being watched, and let out a long sigh.
Back in his tent, his thoughts turned bitter.
He had contributed, indirectly, to Viserys's death.
Would the Iron Throne forgive him?
Jorah shook his head and smiled bitterly.
"I fear Eddard Stark still wants to kill me."
He sighed.
Sometimes he wondered whether it had been worth trading in slaves just to satisfy Lynesse's whims.
But he knew it well: if he could go back, he would do it again.
"If I return to Bear Island… would they accept me?"
And then another thought arose.
What would he do there?
He was no longer just an exiled knight. He was Daenerys's guardian.
Just as he was beginning to lose himself in his thoughts, he heard Kerse's voice.
As soon as he stepped out of the tent, Kerse sought out Molegro.
"Gather all the khalasars."
The order was transmitted quickly.
The Dothraki began running toward Kerse's tent, aware that something extraordinary was happening.
Even Ser Jorah felt his curiosity awaken.
When everyone had gathered, the Dothraki knelt in unison, their foreheads pressed to the ground, showing their utmost reverence.
At the center stood Khal Kerse and his wives, Daenerys and Rhaenys.
Ser Jorah pushed his way through the crowd.
The scene he saw left him paralyzed.
Two creatures were moving near the fire.
One had three heads and two tails.
The other had four legs and a surprisingly intelligent gaze.
They were dragons.
Newborn dragons.
When the silence was absolute, Kerse spoke:
"Today you witness a miracle. Thanks to the gift of the God Thor Horse Head, we have witnessed the rebirth of creatures the world believed extinct."
He paused, letting his words settle.
"But this is only the beginning. Soon you will witness more miracles."
His voice grew heavier.
"Our next objective will be the golden city of Qarth. At the end of the desert, on the shores of the black and salty sea. The center of the world, where the gates of north and south meet, and the bridges of east and west."
Conquering Qarth had not been part of his original plan.
But the House of the Undying offered something more valuable than gold: knowledge.
Kerse understood it now.
The changes in the world were not simple butterfly effects caused by his presence.
He was not the only traveler.
First he would pass through Vaes Tolorro.
Then, Qarth.
The magical tide was rising. Supernatural beings were returning. The White Walkers were not a myth.
And besides, the wealth of Qarth would solve another problem.
With its gold…
Did he really need to worry about not being able to buy enough ships?