The morning air was cool and freshly washed with rain as I stepped onto the battlements of Runestone. The sky above the Vale was a patchwork of clouds, pale blue stretched between their silver edges. Aereryth's powerful silhouette traced the horizon, riding the wind with uncanny grace, his scales gleaming even in the shifting light. From this height, the mountains rolled endlessly outward—a tapestry of forest, stone, and river.
I leaned against the worn stone, feeling the raw pulse of life coursing through the land beneath me. This was not just home; this was the world I would shape. And though my fingers still remembered the touch of foreign metals and distant cities from my past lives, I was bound here now, in blood and flesh, with a dragon at my side.
My thoughts were interrupted by the rapid approach of footsteps. Rhaenyra Targaryen, my elder sister barely three years older, appeared with that usual mixture of regal poise and youthful curiosity. Her dark hair was tangled from the wind, and her violet eyes sparkled with mischief.
"You always come here to brood," she said, a teasing lilt in her voice. "Can't you find a more exciting way to pass the time?"
I smiled, setting my gaze on the distant peaks. "Brooding is for those without dragons or purpose."
She laughed softly, stepping closer until her hand rested on mine. "You've grown sharper, brother. Not just in mind, but in spirit."
We watched Aereryth swoop low, his silver wings stirring the pine scents into the breeze. "Tell me," I said, "what do you see for our future? Not the throne, not crowns, but the Vale itself."
Rhaenyra's smile faded, replaced by a serious glint. "I see fire, blood, and the old wars reborn. Father whispers of war dances to come. You think you can shield yourself from it?"
"I don't intend to fight their battles," I answered. "But I will build the strength to weather the storm."
She nodded, biting her lip thoughtfully. "Then help me understand. Of what use is a dragon without a fire?"
"The fire is not just destruction," I said, dropping my gaze to my hands. "Aereryth and I—our bond is a force to create, to protect, to transform. We are the future's smiths, not its flames."
Rhaenyra's eyes shone with a mixture of pride and something older—regret, perhaps, or fear. "Then teach me," she said quietly. "Teach me to see it your way."
The days that followed were a blend of trust and challenge. I began sharing smaller innovations: glass that allowed light without smoke, crops nourished by water and soil far richer than most claimed possible, and vessels built to cut through the Vale's rivers and bays with speed. The men and women of Runestone watched these wonders with suspicion and awe.
Some nights, I flew with Aereryth beyond the familiar skies, finding new valleys and hidden springs. His wings beat with growing strength, his breath cool and sharp like the mountain winds.
By my tenth nameday, he had grown to the sheer size of the mighty Silverwing, his intellect and magical senses deepening beyond any creature I had known. His scales no longer just gleamed—they shimmered with a soft inner light, a living mirror reflecting the sky and earth.
My own strength grew alongside his. Fivefold, just as the bond promised. I was faster, sharper, stronger—ready not for war, but for the building of a new age in the Vale.
But change bred unease. Rumors began filtering through the mountain villages—whispers of the dragonlord boy who did not seek crowns, of strange fires that warmed glass and fields, and of a power rising quietly in the mountains.
One evening, as a crimson sun set behind the western peaks, my mother summoned me. Her eyes were more serious than I had seen in months.
"The lords murmur of your deeds and your dragon," she said. "Some say you are a threat."
I looked at her, steady and calm. "Then they will see a threat only to those who fear what they do not understand."
"But fear cuts sharp as any blade," she warned. "Remember, your father rides fire and war. You must walk your own path carefully."
I nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle deep. Fire was not the only force in this world; endurance, wisdom, and quiet power were just as deadly.
And I had all of these at my command.
The wind whispered a promise as Aereryth and I took to the air once more—two souls bound against a restless world, ready to forge a future few dared dream.