"I see it! I see it! I am the True Dragon!" Under the thunder, Daenerys heard Viserys' terrified screams buzzing in her ears, mixed with unusual excitement and fanaticism, "The dragon has three heads! The dragon has three heads! I have awakened the dragon!"
Daenerys opened her eyes in a daze and saw that Viserys had somehow gotten out of bed next door. He staggered towards the porthole, screaming, like a drunkard gone mad. He maniacally pushed open the small, tightly closed window, allowing the torrential rain to lash his body.
Outside the porthole, the rain was pouring down, and thunder rumbled. White lightning flashed across the sky from time to time, illuminating Viserys, who was now in a state of madness in the small cabin.
Daenerys finally woke up, her head in a daze, not knowing what to do.
A white light, like a bolt, burst through the window.
After the terrifying flash of lightning came a huge thunderclap. Daenerys couldn't open her eyes in the lightning, her ears were filled with the enormous roar, seemingly mixed with a hideous tearing sound and Viserys's abruptly cut-off, painful wail.
The buzzing sound after the thunderclap kept ringing in her ears.
The lightning made Daenerys's eyes sting, and she couldn't stop crying.
When Daenerys slowly recovered, her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, it felt like a dream. The small merchant ship's cabin was nowhere to be seen, nor was Viserys. She found herself at the peak of the clouds, surrounded by immense golden thunderstorms. Flames and frost constantly fell from the sky. Above, a mass of roaring, rolling dark clouds churned with endless thunder and lightning, and a huge Three-Headed Beast circled within.
The beast's three heads were grotesquely hideous, each with a single eye. Seemingly aware of Daenerys's gaze, the three-headed monster slowly turned its head, and its three furnace-like eyes met hers.
"Ah!"
Daenerys cried out in alarm.
With her exclamation, everything before Daenerys turned white. Her eyes gradually focused, and she realized she was back in the small ship's cabin. Her brother, Viserys, was lying on the floor by the porthole, his life hanging in the balance.
Daenerys couldn't tell if this was reality or a dream until the storm poured in through the small porthole. Rain splashed onto her cheeks, chilling her to the bone. Only then did she become truly alarmed, realizing Viserys seemed to have been struck by lightning.
Daenerys scrambled out of bed, approaching Viserys. She was knocked down by the heaving ship in the storm, but she persevered, crawling towards Viserys on her hands and knees. She brushed the wet, tangled hair from his face and shakily reached a finger towards his nose.
Only after confirming that Viserys was still breathing did Daenerys's hanging heart finally relax.
"@#￥#￥￥%#%#%%"
A hoarse voice suddenly rasped from Viserys's throat.
Daenerys was startled, scrambling away from Viserys. She retreated to the corner of the cabin, shrinking back and craning her neck to look back. Seeing that Viserys was merely muttering and hadn't woken, she crept closer again.
Daenerys strained to understand Viserys's mumbling, but found herself completely unable to. The words Viserys uttered were all unfamiliar to her, words she couldn't understand, neither Common Tongue, the everyday language of the Free Cities, nor Valyrian.
Daenerys was momentarily bewildered.
Scattered footsteps sounded outside the door, followed by the sound of the door being broken down.
"What's going on? Assassins?"
A burly, beardless man pushed open the door. Seeing the scene inside the cabin, he immediately drew his sword and cried out sharply, looking around warily.
The commotion outside grew louder, and Daenerys wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the words. She just huddled, timidly sitting beside Viserys without speaking.
Before long, the men in charge of order confirmed there were no assassins, and Illyrio Mopatis, the owner of the merchant ship, arrived on the scene.
"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 a set of uneven yellow teeth.
Although the plump Illyrio's eyes were filled with concern, Daenerys avoided his gaze, unable to look at him directly. The fleeting look of greed she had seen in the Pentos merchant prince when they first met had frightened the sensitive Daenerys. So, she could only respond in a weak, soft voice: "Brother...he...I don't know."
She still couldn't tell whether what she had seen when she woke up earlier was real or a dream.
Illyrio's expression was serious as he questioned her carefully about what happened.
"I don't know," Daenerys struggled to organize her words, speaking in broken sentences. "...I was asleep...I woke up to thunder, and I saw Brother walk to the window like he was drunk...then lightning...no, I, I don't know."
Daenerys began to sob softly as she spoke.
She was sensitive, and although Illyrio seemed sincere, she still sensed a hint of impatience in his expression.
So she lowered her voice further: "I saw... I saw my brother walk to the window, and then there was a clap of thunder... and then he collapsed."
She didn't mention the mad words she'd heard in her half-dreaming state, nor the white lightning that poured in from the porthole, nor the illusions she'd seen.
She didn't know if Illyrio understood.
Fortunately, he didn't ask any more questions. He just stepped forward to check Viserys's breathing, then called out, "He's just fainted. Put him back in bed, and fetch the ship's doctor."
Next, Illyrio dispersed the noisy crowd: "What are you all doing, crowding around? Get out!"
The ship's doctor arrived in a hurry. After a professional examination, he found no injuries on the patient, only temporary unconsciousness and a fever. So, the well-trained doctor performed a simple bloodletting and administered a dose of the expensive Milk of the Poppy to relieve the pain, 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, 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. "Get out."
The medic was relieved. "Yes, Your Excellency."
In the cramped cabin, Illyrio and the medic had exchanged words, while little Daenerys stood in the corner, saying nothing.
Illyrio was in a bad mood and didn't say more. After sending the medic away, he didn't linger either, only comforting Daenerys: "Just a slight fever, no need to worry, get some rest." Then he left with his men.
In the cramped cabin, only Daenerys and the sleeping Viserys remained.
Until this moment, Daenerys only felt fear.
In a daze, 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-painted gate, and she and Viserys lived a life of starvation, constant hiding, drifting without a home, filled with fear, helplessness, and powerlessness.
Just now, for a moment, she was afraid that Viserys had died.
Although after selling her mother's queen's crown to survive, Viserys gradually slid towards madness, often treating her badly in private when he was irritable, losing his temper at her for no reason, screaming and kicking her. But Viserys was her only family.
After the emotional rollercoaster suddenly calmed down, Daenerys' mind began to wander uncontrollably, her thoughts scattering illogically. She fell asleep without realizing it.
"Hiss~"
The stinging pain in her finger woke Daenerys, and she instinctively wanted to pull her hand back.
But a large hand held hers, strong and powerful.
"Don't move," Viserys' voice commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Daenerys didn't move.
A tingling sensation ran through her fingers. She was astonished when she realized he was licking them.
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, his purple eyes filled with a strange sorrow, his pale, haggard face etched with disappointment.
She noticed blood on his lips, her blood. She dared not look any closer, and lowered her head timidly, asking softly, "What's wrong? Are you alright?"
Viserys, his face lacking color, looked at her. "It's nothing." He stood up, adjusting his clothes. "You go back to sleep. I'll go out for some air." Without waiting for Daenerys to respond, he left.
Daenerys was momentarily surprised. Viserys' behavior was confusing.
Just now, when she looked over, she clearly sensed that Viserys was also avoiding her gaze.
This was a behavior she had never seen before.
She vaguely felt like she had caught something, and looked down at the finger that had been licked, discovering a small cut on the fingertip, from which a drop of crimson blood was seeping out.