"I see it! I see it! I am the True Dragon!" Through the rumble of thunder, Daenerys vaguely heard Viserys's terrified shrieks, laced with an unusual, frenzied excitement. "The Dragon has three heads! The Dragon has three heads! I have awakened the Dragon!"
Daenerys groggily opened her eyes and saw that Viserys had somehow climbed out of his bed. He staggered towards the porthole, screaming like a mad, drunken fool. He flung open the tightly sealed window, letting the downpour lash his body.
Outside the porthole, the rain poured down in sheets, accompanied by roaring thunder. White lightning occasionally split the sky, illuminating the small cabin and Viserys's crazed state.
Daenerys finally woke up, her head a mess, unsure what to do.
A flash of white light, like a bolt of lightning, flooded through the window.
Following the terrifying flash of light was a deafening clap of thunder. Daenerys couldn't open her eyes in the bright light, and her ears were filled with the massive roar, which seemed to include a gruesome tearing sound and Viserys's abruptly cut-off, pained wail.
The buzzing in her ears from the thunder wouldn't stop.
The electric light stung Daenerys's eyes, causing her to cry.
When Daenerys gradually recovered and slowly opened her eyes, she felt as if she were in a dream. The small merchant ship's cabin she had been in was nowhere to be seen, nor was Viserys. In a daze, she found herself at the peak of the clouds, surrounded by enormous golden thunderstorms. Fire and frost continuously fell from the high sky, and above, in the highest heavens, was a mass of roaring, tumbling dark clouds, filled with boundless lightning and flashes of thunder. A massive Three-Headed Beast was circling there.
The three heads of the beast were grotesquely hideous, each with a single eye. As if sensing Daenerys's gaze, the three-headed monster slowly turned its head, and its three, furnace-like eyes met hers.
"Ah!"
Daenerys exclaimed in surprise.
With this exclamation, everything before Daenerys suddenly turned white. Her eyes gradually focused, and she found herself back in the small cabin of the merchant ship. Her brother, Viserys, was lying on the floor by the porthole, his life uncertain.
Daenerys couldn't tell whether it was reality or a dream. It wasn't until the storm poured in from the narrow porthole, and raindrops splashed onto her cheeks, chilling her to the bone, that she finally panicked, realizing that Viserys seemed to have been struck by lightning.
Daenerys scrambled out of bed, approaching Viserys. During the process, she was once knocked over by the sea ship's swaying in the storm, but she didn't care. Using her limbs, she crawled towards Viserys, brushing away the wet, messy hair on his face. Her trembling fingers reached towards his nose.
It wasn't until she confirmed that Viserys was still breathing that Daenerys's heart, which had been hanging in the balance, finally relaxed.
"@#￥#￥￥%#%#%%"
A hoarse voice suddenly rasped from Viserys's throat.
Daenerys was startled. She scrambled away from Viserys, retreating to the corner of the cabin. She then craned her neck to look back, only to find that Viserys was still mumbling and hadn't woken up. She crawled closer again.
Daenerys strained to understand what Viserys was muttering, but found herself completely unable to. The words Viserys spoke were unfamiliar to her, impossible to identify. They were neither the Common Tongue nor the everyday language of the Free Cities, nor were they Valyrian.
Daenerys was momentarily confused.
Scattered footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by the sound of the door being broken open.
"What's going on? Assassins?"
A burly, beardless man pushed open the door. Seeing the scene inside the cabin, he immediately drew his sword, let out a shrill yell, and looked around warily.
The commotion outside grew louder. Daenerys wanted to say something, but couldn't gather her thoughts. She just huddled, shrinking beside Viserys, and remained silent.
Soon after, the man restored order, confirming there were no assassins, and the merchant ship owner, Illyrio Mopatis, arrived.
"Miss Daenerys, what exactly happened here?"
Illyrio asked Daenerys softly, who was clearly frightened. He was a stout man with a greasy, yellow forked beard and uneven, yellow teeth.
Although Illyrio's eyes held a hint of concern, Daenerys avoided his gaze, unable to look directly at him. She was scared by a fleeting, greedy look she had seen in the eyes of this wealthy Pentos governor during their first meeting. So she could only respond in a weak, small voice, "Brother...he...I don't know."
Even now, she couldn't distinguish whether what she had seen upon waking was real or just a dream.
Illyrio looked serious, and earnestly asked about what had happened.
"I don't know." Daenerys struggled to organize her words, speaking in fragments. "...I was asleep...when I woke up to the thunder, I saw my brother walk to the window like he was drunk...then lightning, no, I, I don't know."
Daenerys began to sob softly.
Daenerys was sensitive, and although Illyrio seemed sincere, she still sensed a hint of impatience in his brow.
So she lowered her voice further: "I saw, I saw my brother walk to the window, and then a thunderclap... and then he fainted."
She didn't mention the mad words she heard half-asleep or the white lightning that poured in from the porthole, nor did she mention the illusions she saw.
She didn't know if Illyrio understood.
But fortunately, he didn't ask any more questions, but went forward to check Viserys's breathing, and then called out: "He just fainted, put him back in bed, go get the ship's doctor."
Immediately, Illyrio dispersed the noisy crowd: "What are you all doing here, crowding around? Get out!"
The ship's doctor came in a hurry. After a professional examination, he found that the patient had no injuries on his body, only a temporary coma and some fever symptoms. So the well-trained ship's doctor performed a simple bloodletting on the patient and gave him an expensive painkilling Milk of the Poppy, allowing the patient to fall into a deep sleep.
Illyrio asked: "How is he? Is he alright?"
The ship's medic looked a little nervous. "Um, yes, I believe so, Your Excellency."
Illyrio frowned. "You 'believe'?"
The medic lowered his head. "Uh, yes, Your Excellency."
Illyrio fell silent for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "Dismissed."
The medic breathed a sigh of relief. "Yes, Your Excellency."
In the cramped cabin, Illyrio and the medic had been speaking back and forth. Little Daenerys stood in the corner, saying nothing.
Illyrio was in a foul mood. He didn't say much more, and after sending the medic away, he didn't linger. He only soothed Daenerys. "It's just a slight fever. Don't worry. Get some rest." With that, he left with his retinue.
In the small cabin, only Daenerys and the sleeping Viserys remained.
It was only now that Daenerys felt a sense of lingering fear.
Lost in thought, she recalled the circumstances surrounding Ser William's death. Back then, she understood nothing. Until she was driven out of that house in Braavos with the red-lacquered door, and she and Viserys endured days of starvation, constant hiding, wandering aimlessly, filled with fear, helplessness, and powerlessness.
Just now, for a fleeting moment, she feared Viserys might die.
Although Viserys had gradually descended into madness after selling her mother's queenly crown to survive, he often treated her badly in private when he was in a rage, taking out his anger on her for no reason, screaming and hitting her. But Viserys was her only kin.
After such a great emotional upheaval followed by sudden tranquility, Daenerys's mind couldn't help but begin to wander. Her thoughts drifted without logic, and she unknowingly fell asleep.
"Hiss~"
The stinging pain in her fingers woke Daenerys. She instinctively wanted to pull her hand back.
But a large hand held hers, strong and powerful.
"Don't move," Viserys's voice commanded, brooking no argument.
Daenerys didn't move.
Then, a tingling sensation ran through her fingers. When she realized he was licking them, she was stunned.
When Daenerys opened her eyes, Viserys had already released her hand and sat back on the bed across the small cabin.
Daenerys stared at him blankly. Viserys was frowning, a strange sorrow in his violet eyes, his pale, gaunt face filled with disappointment.
Daenerys saw blood on his lips, her blood. She didn't dare look closely, and lowered her head timidly, asking softly, ".What's wrong? Are you alright?"
Viserys's bloodless face turned towards her. "It's nothing." He stood up as he spoke, straightening his clothes. "You go back to sleep. I'll go out for some air." Without waiting for Daenerys to respond, he left the room.
Daenerys was momentarily surprised. Viserys's attitude was baffling.
Just now, as she looked over, she clearly noticed that Viserys was also avoiding her gaze.
This was unprecedented behavior.
She vaguely felt like she had caught onto something. Lowering her head, she looked at the finger that had been licked, and found a small cut on her fingertip. Crimson blood beads were seeping out from it.
(End of this chapter)