He stood before the Black Dread.
The dragon didn't move to strike. Didn't growl. Didn't bare its fangs. It just watched him silent, still, massive. The air around it was thick with heat and age, like standing before a mountain that remembered fire.
Aranji's Byakugan was already active. What he saw made him pause.
The chakra inside Balerion was immense. It didn't flow like a river it hung in the air like smoke, heavy and slow, as if time itself had thickened around the beast. It was old chakra. Ancient. Saturated.
He stared at the dragon's body, then at the faint scars that ran along its flanks, the deep wound near the base of its spine. There, the chakra was twisted blackened, sick. A slow infection, eating away at the flow.
Aranji's gaze drifted upward, to the dragon's massive head.
How much chakra did Aegon Targaryen have? he wondered. To ride this. To bond with it. To survive it.
It couldn't have been small. It couldn't have been average. To be accepted by this creature, to fly with it, to command it Aegon must have had chakra reserves that rivaled the greatest clans. Maybe not like the Uzumaki, but close. Enough to feed the beast. Enough to keep up.
Aranji stepped forward.
He knew it was reckless. But he had to know.
He raised his hand, slowly, and began to channel chakra into his palm. Not too much. Just enough to be felt. The dragon's head lowered, just slightly, as if sensing it.
He placed his hand on the scales.
The reaction was immediate.
The chakra was drawn in not violently, but hungrily. Like a thirst that had gone unquenched for years. The dragon's body trembled faintly, and the infection near its spine pulsed. The foreign chakra was fighting it. Not enough to heal it. But enough to stir something.
Balerion's body shifted.
He wanted more.
He wanted to fly again.
He wanted to rise without pain.
He wanted to feel the sky without the weight of sickness dragging him down.
And he knew.
He knew who his last partner would be.
Not weak. Not frail. Not fading.
He wanted someone stronger.
Someone who could carry the fire.
The roar that followed shook the entire pit.
Dust rained from the ceiling. The ground cracked beneath Aranji's feet. The sound wasn't rage. It wasn't warning.
It was longing.
It was hunger.
Aranji vanished in a flicker of movement, reappearing outside the pit.
"Such power," he muttered. "I hope it doesn't die."
Inside the Dragonpit, the keepers were already rushing toward the sound, shouting to one another.
"What's happening?"
"Is he waking?"
"Why did he roar?"
None of them had answers.
Aranji was already gone.
He moved through the city like a shadow, using a different Henge no Jutsu to take the form of a castle servant. His steps were measured, his presence unremarkable. No one stopped him as he entered the Red Keep.
He made his way toward the library.
When he arrived, he paused at the threshold, scanning the shelves.
He began pulling books anything related to the Targaryens, to Old Valyria, to the bond between dragons and riders. He needed to understand what they were. What they used to be.
And maybe, just maybe, what they could become again.
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Targaryens who have dreams has a high amount of chakra aegon Targaryen The First he had a lot of chakra like there might be something that gave him a lot of chakra even more than the dreams and Helena Targaryen will have a lot of chakra
And
there's our targaryens who has false dreams they have a slightly abnormal amount of chakra but if they connect to a dragon that's have a more chakra than them but injured they are able to claim that dragon it would but if that ended dragons die that Targaryen will suffer into some forms he will not be able to claim another dragon and for that Dragon Rider they will they will have bad luck