Chapter 2 – Fire in the Cradle
"The blood remembers what the mind forgets. Dragons are not tamed. They are endured."—Seryssa Vórenyx, Mirror Journal, Entry I
Night in Volnyr Hold was never quiet.
The fortress slept over a restless volcano. Lava hissed beneath the stone, its breath rumbling through the bones of the keep. Shadows danced across black walls lit by red lanterns—ghostly silhouettes that seemed to whisper old names, curses, oaths.
And high within one of the twisted spires, Vaeron Vórenyx stood on a narrow balcony, blood still crusted on his tunic from the Trial.
He stared at the stars—alien and ancient, constellations he barely recognized. This was the sky of old Valyria, before the Doom, before the Targaryens fled to Dragonstone, before the world burned.
He whispered, half in disbelief, "I'm really here…"
[Assassin's Creed Odyssey System – Online]Current Level: 3Skill Tree Unlocked: Dragonlore— Dragonbond (0/5)— Flame Endurance (0/3)— Primordial Tongue (1/1)— Draconic Empathy (Locked – Requires Egg Touch)
The fight had accelerated his progression. But the system wasn't just for battle—it was a lifetime tool. He could build an empire with it.
And that started with understanding the battlefield.
🏛 Life in House Vórenyx
The next days were brutal.
Each morning began before dawn in the Forge Quarter, where slaves smelted obsidian, dragonbone, and rare ores from deep fissures. Vaeron, despite his noble birth, chose to join them—not as a smith, but as an observer.
He studied Valyrian forging techniques—how they folded black steel with powdered gemstones, how the flames of the forge were stoked not by coal, but firewyrm hearts. He logged every movement, every rune.
[Skill Progress: Valyrian Forging – 6%][Insight Gained: Dragonsteel requires a drop of draconic blood to awaken]
At night, he trained.
Sword drills, hand-to-hand combat, reflexes in the pitch dark—all overseen by the Bloodbound Masters, each a silent monster in obsidian armor. Vaeron didn't compete with his siblings anymore.
He trained for the day he would kill them.
But it wasn't enough to be strong.
He needed secrets.
🕯 The Vault Below the Flame
It was whispered among the slaves—deep below Volnyr Hold, a sealed chamber existed. A place where Seryssa Vórenyx, his mother, had once practiced blood magic and mirrorcraft before her disappearance.
With stolen keys and Farsight active, he navigated hidden passages: behind statues, under molten waterfalls, past deadly puzzles guarded by flame golems.
At the bottom was a mirrored chamber, cracked and covered in dust.
And there, he found it:
A floating crystal-bound journal, pulsing with blood-red light.
[You have discovered: Mirror Journal – Seryssa Vórenyx][Special Skill Gained: Memory Echo Reading]
Her voice echoed inside his mind like a lullaby woven from ash.
"Vaeron, if you hear this… you are not like the others. You were born for more than this house of fire and blood. Learn their games, yes. But build your own."
She spoke of the Doom Cult hidden within the dragonlord families.
She warned of a coming cataclysm not by war… but by magic unleashed and souls unbound.
And she revealed something else:
"The Cradle stirs again. The old one dreams. The unbonded dragon awaits a mind sharp enough not to tame it—but to earn its respect. You must go, my son. You must try."
🐉 The Obsidian Cradle
The Cradle was forbidden.
An ancient cave hidden within the volcano's core, it held a creature that had never been claimed—not by dragonlords, not by spells, not even by the Freehold's strongest mages.
A creature born of fire before Valyria rose from the ashes.
No guards blocked the path. They didn't need to.
Everyone feared what was inside.
But Vaeron, cloaked in shadow, used every skill in his system. He descended alone. Through the magma spirals. Across razorbone bridges. Until he reached the chasm.
And there… it slept.
A titanic dragon, curled around molten chains, glowing from within like a living star.
Its scales were black and red, crackling with heat. One of its eyes opened—golden and full of intelligence.
Vaeron stopped breathing.
[Draconic Presence Detected: Ancient – Rank: Calamity]Name: ??? – Unknown]Mood: Cautiously CuriousWarning: Attempting Bond Without Offering = Instant Death
He didn't bow.
He didn't whisper Valyrian.
He simply sat… and stared back.
For six hours.
And when the dragon blinked, he blinked with it.
[You have formed a Proto-Bond with ???][Title Gained: Cradle-Walker][Skill Gained: Dragon Empathy I]
🔥 The First Political Knife
When he returned to the upper halls, weeks later, he found his bed burned to cinders.
An assassin had tried to kill him while he was gone.
A message was carved into the scorched stone:
"Cinderborns don't live long."
He knew who sent it.
Vaelarion.
He also knew it was not a real attempt—it was a warning. A sign that Vaeron was no longer invisible.
And it meant only one thing.
The Game had begun.
⚔️ Next Chapter: "The Knife and the Egg"
Vaeron receives his first mission to retrieve a stolen dragon egg from a rival family's vault… and he's not alone. A spy, a courtesan, and a dangerous blade-wielding orphan will join him.