Draezell looked at the small dragon hiding inside the hollow of a tree. The little creature cautiously stuck out its head—an eagle-like head adorned with a long, slender spike atop its skull, while a series of spiked dragon horns, arranged in an orderly pattern, protruded from its brow. The horns gradually diminished in size until they became small, barely noticeable spikes blending into the skin beneath its jaw. Unlike Sendros, whose scales resembled leaves, this pale blue hatchling had scales as sharp as needles, which only began to smooth out along its back. Its tail was shorter than Sendros', but at its tip, six long, razor-sharp spikes jutted outward.
It was no wonder Rey had such a rigid impression of it at first. Setting aside Jyofyre's noble visage, this dragon, while not unattractive, certainly appeared far more menacing than the butterfly-winged beauty of Sendros. But no one would have guessed that this was the most docile of the three hatchlings—the first to submit to Sendros' authority.
"Yamor, take note. This hatchling's name is Skyfyre."
A deep dragon's roar echoed from within the cave. The golden dragon egg had not hatched a golden dragon, but rather a light purple hatchling with stripes shimmering in rainbow hues.
The young dragon had a regal, elongated face, and two slender whiskers, nearly a third of its body length, cascaded to the ground, giving it an inexplicable aura of age. Enormous bone-plated horns—almost twice the size of its face—extended backward. At their tips, the two wide horns nearly fused together, their outer edges adorned with branch-like protrusions, much like the limbs of a tree. The rainbow-like colors only added to its otherworldly, dreamlike appearance.
Compared to other dragons, its membranous wings had more splits, resembling "feathers" rather than typical dragon wings. The wing membranes displayed mesmerizing rainbow patterns reminiscent of tree rings. In terms of aesthetics, this hatchling was no less striking than Zarafax—in fact, it might have even surpassed it.
"Hovendes. In ancient Valyrian, this name means 'fleeting time.'" Draezell finalized the third dragon's name.
It seemed that the family's dragon-hatching ritual had proceeded without issue. Draezell made a mental note of the sequence in which the three eggs had hatched, along with their incubation time and the growth patterns of the young dragons.
Clearly, the dragon eggs he had brought from the ruins of Valyria had produced particularly unique dragons—rapid-growing and distinctly tempered. The dragon eggs produced by the Kindred had similar situations, though Skyfyre had not grown as quickly as Sendros.
Meanwhile, the clutch laid by Silverwing after its journey to the Valyrian ruins had undergone peculiar changes. Dawn, hatched from Silverwing's previous clutch, did not possess the same strength as Hovendes, which had emerged from a more recent egg.
This further proved that Valyria's ruins held a deep, intrinsic connection to dragons.
Unfortunately, the magic saturating the place was too dangerous. Even now, Draezell knew that leading another expedition would not allow him to reach any farther than he had before.
No one knew what dangers lay buried in the heart of Valyria.
"Yamor, I will be taking Diana, Rhaegor, and Samantha with me to King's Landing to serve as Hand of the King for five years," Draezell said, leading the steward out of the dragon incubatory. "The castle will be left under Rey's management, while the Silverblood Guard remains under Valar's command. With Vermithor gone, the next ruler of the Dragonpit will likely be either Shadowmare or Silverwing. There's no rush to introduce these three hatchlings into the pit—we will handle it upon our return."
"Your Highness… do you not intend to remain in King's Landing permanently?"
Draezell shook his head. "Not yet. Samantha is a clever girl. She will know how to navigate her interactions with Aegon and Viserys. Juchi will protect her."
"As you wish, Your Highness. Should I—"
Draezell nodded. "Send fifty Silver Guards. The Dragonpit in King's Landing will need personnel as well."
Yamor inclined his head. "Your Highness, Prince Viserys has already taken Aegarax out of the Dragonpit. My sources tell me that, before leaving, the young dragon even went to seek out Zarafax, but ultimately chose to follow the prince."
"That is to be expected, Yamor," Draezell said with a slight smile.
Dragons did, in fact, develop an instinctive attraction to one another, much like animals seeking mates—even acting on such instincts. However, the bond between dragon and rider always took precedence. No matter how close two dragons might be, if their riders turned their blades against one another, the creatures would bare their fangs and unleash their flames upon their former "mates". This instinct was etched into their very blood.
---
King's Landing, Grand Sept of Jacaerys
"Your Holiness."
A septon, visibly flustered, approached the High Septon, who was leisurely sipping wine while tallying recent profits.
"What is it?" the High Septon asked nonchalantly, setting down his goblet. "Didn't I instruct you to deliver the money to the Black Keep? As I recall, Tigarro is not a greedy man."
"It's not about the Black Keep, Your Holiness—it's the dragons, the dragons!"
"The King has returned?" The High Septon straightened his robes and sat up.
The Septon hurriedly shook his head. "It's not just His Grace. Prince Draezell has returned as well. We saw his three dragons descend upon the Black Keep. They should be making their way back to the city now. The King's dragon landed at the Dragonpit, so it will take a little longer before he reaches the Red Keep."
The High Septon froze for a moment before promptly donning the crystal crown beside him. "Where is my scepter? Quickly, bring me my scepter."
A nearby attendant rushed to fetch it.
"Prepare the palanquin. I must go to the throne room to welcome His Grace and the Prince back."
---
Elsewhere in King's Landing.
Below Aegon's High Hill, where the Red Keep loomed, lay the wealthiest district of the city, home to noble and affluent families. Many lords of the Crownlands owned properties here, particularly houses like Stokeworth, whose castles were close to King's Landing. Yet, rather than staying in their ancestral seats, these nobles preferred to reside in the capital.
The city offered more opportunities—greater chances for influence at court.
During Prince Daemon's regency, this trend only intensified. It wasn't just the Crownlands nobility; lords from the Stormlands, the Reach, the Westerlands, the Riverlands, and even minor Dornish lords had purchased estates on Aegon's High Hill.
After all, in the wake of the Dance of the Dragons, both House Targaryen and House Vaelarys had gained much. The Targaryens, in particular, had solidified one undeniable truth—dragons made the rules.
It was no wonder that so many nobles had flocked to King's Landing, waiting for their moment.
"By the Seven, what is that?"
A richly dressed noble of the Crownlands pointed at the sky in shock.
"Dragons! It's dragons!"
"Which one?"
Lord Massay curiously leaned out of his carriage.
"My lord, not just one—many!" His servant stammered, barely able to form a sentence.
Lord Massay finally looked up.
From the southern skies, several dark shapes grew larger and more distinct, until their shadows blanketed the city below.
As nobles rushed out of their villas, craning their necks to watch the approaching beasts, Lord Massay sighed and drew his carriage's curtain shut.
He knew that if this were merely the King returning to King's Landing, the court wouldn't be this flustered.
There was only one explanation—Prince Draezell had returned as well.
And the massive dragon casting its shadow over the city was proof enough.
"The Seven Hells…" Lord Massay buried his face in his hands. "Who is the real king here?"