The Red Comet and the Name of the Dragon
The red comet tore across the night sky like a bleeding wound carved into the firmament.
Its body burned crimson, and its long tail stretched endlessly behind it, illuminating nearly half the heavens in a deep, blood-red glow. Even the stars seemed to retreat before its brilliance, as if the sky itself had been marked by an omen.
This red comet would not fade quickly.
For many nights to come, people across the known world would lift their heads and see it—kings, slaves, priests, witches, scholars, and madmen alike. Each would give the same phenomenon a different meaning. Some would call it a sign of war. Others would whisper of rebirth, dragons, or the fall of dynasties. And in every city, from the Free Cities to the far reaches of Westeros, prophecies long forgotten would quietly stir.
Within the courtyard of the Myrish Magisters' residence, the collapsed remains of a great bonfire still smoldered.
Among the ashes, three small dragons frolicked.
They were newly born, clumsy and curious, their movements awkward yet full of life. Thin streams of white smoke escaped their nostrils with each breath, and the stones beneath their claws were still warm from dragonfire.
The black dragon lifted its head and let out a sharp, shrill roar. Flames flickered briefly from its mouth.
As if responding to a call, the other two dragons followed suit, their cries overlapping in a strange, almost musical harmony.
Gendry watched them in silence.
So it really worked, he thought. Only death can buy life.
The price had been exact.
The blood of kings—Viserys Targaryen and Khal Drogo.
The blood of a fetus—Viserys's unborn child.
The blood of a sage—a witch, whose fate was already sealed.
And the life of a woman who had loved Viserys deeply enough to die with him.
Every condition of the ancient formula had been fulfilled.
"Viserys was always destined to die," Gendry murmured inwardly. "But at least he died by his own hand. That spared Dany from becoming a kinslayer."
Fate was cruel, but it had chosen a less bloody path for Daenerys.
Gendry had wanted to spare the Beggar King. He truly had. But Viserys's obsession with the crown had rotted his mind beyond repair. Gold, fire, blood—he would have destroyed himself no matter what choices others made.
Nearby, Qyburn rubbed his eyes repeatedly, as if afraid the scene before him would vanish the moment he blinked.
"A red comet… living magic dragons…" he whispered, unable to hide his excitement.
For a man who devoted his life to forbidden knowledge and forgotten arts, this was nothing short of a miracle.
Magic dragons were the most mysterious creations in the world. They were not merely beasts, but living manifestations of magic itself. To scholars and magi, dragons were the ultimate proof that the laws of the world could be bent—and perhaps rewritten.
The red comet had appeared. The dragons had hatched.
The connection was undeniable.
Qyburn's heart pounded as a dangerous thought surfaced.
If dragons have returned… then magic itself is awakening.
Perhaps—just perhaps—his own research would finally bear fruit.
The black-and-red dragon suddenly leapt from Gendry's neck onto his shoulder, its claws digging lightly into fabric and skin.
Gendry smiled faintly and carefully cupped the dragon in his palm.
The little dragon's body gleamed like polished obsidian. Crimson lines ran between its black scales, echoing the color of its wings and curved horns. Its eyes burned a deep, smoldering red, like embers buried in charcoal.
Magic dragons were rarely of a single color.
"This one…" Qyburn said softly, staring in awe. "This one is extraordinary."
"I was right," he continued. "The Commander-in-Chief truly carries the destiny of this era."
The dragon had chosen Gendry.
That alone was proof.
Even as a bastard, Gendry would become the first of House Baratheon to ride a magic dragon.
Gendry gazed at the creature in his hand.
The black dragon was the largest of the three and by far the most aggressive. Even in infancy, it carried itself with natural dominance. When it spread its wings, they were nearly three times the length of its body—thin, translucent membranes stretched between delicate yet resilient bones.
If one looked closely, it became clear that the dragon's body consisted mostly of neck, tail, and wings. It was built for the sky.
This was his confidence.
His chance to begin again.
"My lord!" an Unsullied cried out suddenly. "That dragon… that must be Balerion!"
Even the Free Cities and the Dothraki had heard the legends.
The Black Dread.
The Black Death.
The dragon whose shadow once swallowed cities whole.
The green dragon and the pale platinum-white dragon remained close to Daenerys. She knelt beside them, her violet eyes wide with wonder.
She had never seen creatures so strange… or so beautiful.
How she wished her brother could have seen them.
But it was too late.
She was the last Targaryen.
Dany leaned into Gendry's embrace as the three dragons intertwined, hissing softly. The black dragon claimed the best position instinctively, and the other two did not dare challenge him.
"They've only just hatched," Qyburn said in a low voice. "A single sword stroke could kill them."
"And many will come for them," he continued gravely. "Dragon eggs are worth more than gold. Living dragons are priceless. There are only three in the entire world."
"Anyone who sees them will covet them."
"They are Gendry's and mine," Daenerys said firmly. "As long as we live, no one will take them."
"No," Gendry said gently, squeezing her hand. "What happened tonight must not spread—for now."
He looked around the courtyard.
"Yes, Your Highness," the Unsullied, attendants, and servants replied in unison.
Gendry met their gazes one by one.
He did not need to speak further.
Their loyalty was absolute—not only because of his authority and kindness, but because of genuine admiration.
Yet even with loyal hearts, secrets could not remain buried forever.
The red comet marked the rise of magic.
And with it, those sensitive to the arcane would sense the return of dragons.
[Bloodline Status]
Storm's Blood: Activated (Awakening ↑ 60%)
True Dragon's Blood: Activated (Awakening ↑ 10%)
First Men's Blood: Not Activated
Rhoynar Blood: Not Activated
Green Hand Blood: Not Activated
Gendry felt his blood surge violently.
His strength, speed, agility, senses—everything improved once again. Storm's Blood had nearly reached its mortal limit. Any further evolution would touch something deeper… something divine.
The will of the Storm God.
Then—
True Dragon's Blood: Activated.
Gendry felt joy rise in his chest.
A bond—ancient and instinctive—formed between him and the black dragon.
From this moment on, his family would become something new.
No longer purely Baratheon.
No longer purely Targaryen.
Baratheon blood had always been closest to the dragonlords—Robert's grandmother had been a Targaryen princess, and rumors of dragonseed ancestors were more than idle talk.
"Prepare roasted mutton," Gendry ordered. "For the dragons."
"Yes, Your Highness."
When the cooked meat was brought forth, the young dragons darted forward like serpents, snapping eagerly.
Dragons, like humans, preferred cooked food.
"It seems my brother was right," Daenerys murmured. "Only dragons and humans enjoy cooked meat."
"Dany," Gendry said quietly, "we'll need to move soon."
She nodded immediately.
The dragons could not be allowed out of their sight.
"Look, Jen," she said softly. "They're still smoking."
Their scales radiated warmth, steam rising from their bodies in the cold night air.
"How magical," Gendry whispered.
"Qyburn," he said aloud, "this is the most dangerous stage. I need you fully focused."
"I understand, Your Highness."
"My love," Daenerys said, smiling. "They need names."
"The black one will be Balerion," Gendry said. "Perhaps he truly has been reborn."
"The green one…" Daenerys hesitated. "Rhaego—"
Qyburn gently interrupted. "Your Grace… that name may awaken old hatreds."
After a moment, Daenerys nodded.
"Then Vhagar," she decided. "And the pale one… Viserion."
She kissed Gendry's cheek.
"Easy, my little princess," Gendry said softly. "The birthing bed is a more dangerous battlefield than any war."
After the courtyard was cleaned, Gendry escorted Daenerys to her chambers. Two dragons curled beside her.
Balerion, however, refused to leave Gendry's side.
Later, in the council chamber, Gendry spoke quietly.
"Strengthen the defenses. No leaks."
The Handsome Man bowed.
"Your Highness… perhaps it is time to turn our eyes toward Westeros."
The red comet burned on.
And the age of dragons had begun again.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)