The sky was an endless expanse of azure, the coastline jagged like a hound's teeth against the tireless assault of the waves.
The dragon arrived at Swan Haven in Andalos. Here, Viserys could let Sunblaze fly without restraint. The dragon burst through the clouds, carrying Viserys ahead to Viserysfort.
Although Swan Haven had grown, it was still a small port. The rest of his retinue would mount fresh horses there and race to catch up.
Viserys's dragon swept over the town of Viserysfort, shocking the populace as it flew toward the White Castle where the King resided.
When the citizens of the bustling White City saw a genuine golden dragon appear in the sky, the awe was absolute.
Viserysfort was now the embodiment of home, far more real to him than distant King's Landing, thousands of miles away.
The journey had come to a perfect end.
Viserys descended into the courtyard of the White Castle. The roar of the dragon and the thunderous beat of leathery wings commanded everyone's attention.
This was a true dragon—a miracle reborn into the world.
Viserys would be known as the adventurer who reached the ruins of Valyria and brought back a dragon, a feat as miraculous as the beast itself.
The dragon landed steadily in the courtyard, a golden shadow under the sun, a perfect fusion of gold and red.
Sunblaze flapped his wings, the sound cracking like thunder.
"Find something for my companion to eat," Viserys ordered as he dismounted smoothly.
"At once, Your Grace." Roland Lake stared, momentarily stunned, before his face broke into an expression of wild ecstasy. The return of dragons signaled that the Dragon King's restoration was secure.
"Build a roost atop a high tower for my companion, following this design," Viserys commanded, handing a blueprint to Count Roland.
"Yes, Your Grace."
Viserys wanted the White Castle to have a tower roost first. If Sunblaze preferred to dig a lair into the mountainside later, that would be his choice.
"How is this possible?" The Red Viper, Oberyn Martell, rubbed his eyes, staring at the lively dragon. "Magic is a tree without roots; it should not exist, let alone a dragon."
The Red Viper knew some dark arts, mostly involving poisons and minor sorcery. Deep down, however, Oberyn wasn't fanatical about magic; he largely considered it a dead science.
But now, he saw a dragon with his own eyes.
"Magic is far away, yet right before your eyes."
"The Gods bless King Viserys!" The High Septon, Uther, shifted quickly from shock to rapture, praising the divine miracle.
"The Gods bless King Viserys!"
---
In ancient times, the Andals, Rhoynar, and Ghiscari were all powerful empires, but none could stand against the Valyrians.
Because the Valyrians had dragons—weapons of mass destruction.
Viserys's gaze swept over everyone present: the young and beautiful Rhaenys, the little girl Daenerys, the shocked Red Viper, the ecstatic Count Roland, the surprised Count Donnel, and the devout followers of the Seven and the Mother Rhoyne, muttering prayers.
Most wore expressions of worship. Power commands worship, and good fortune and heroic tales spread like wildfire.
Chunks of slaughtered bull were brought out. Sunblaze raised his head, snorted steam, and then engulfed the meat in golden-red dragonfire.
As the dragon blasted fire and devoured the cooked beef, the air seemed to shimmer with heat.
Many onlookers involuntarily took a step back. This was a dragon—a monster of blood and fire, a legendary and cruel beast of war.
Viserys watched Sunblaze gorge himself. By dragon standards, he was still a hatchling.
Though small, the dragon already possessed potent fire, but he needed training and the baptism of war.
Small dragons were vulnerable on the battlefield.
Viserys knew his history well. At the Battle of the Gullet, Prince Jacaerys's dragon, Vermax, crashed into the sea.
Some said a crossbow bolt pierced the dragon's eye. Others claimed a sailor on a Myrish galley threw a grappling hook as Vermax swooped low, snagging the dragon between two scales. The hook dug deep due to the dragon's speed, and when the sailor lashed the chain to the mast, the weight of the ship combined with the dragon's momentum tore a jagged wound in its belly.
Whatever the cause, the dragon plummeted, smoking, into the sea. Survivors said it tried to surface but crashed headlong into a burning galley. Tangled in the rigging, it couldn't break free.
When the ship capsized, it dragged the dragon down to a watery grave.
Perhaps the Ring of Fire held other secrets to prevent such a fate; Viserys would study it when he had a moment of peace.
"When Morosh and Agos arrive at Viserysfort, we need to plan for the coming war," Viserys ordered.
At a certain level, the inevitability of a state depends on having the right people.
A king doesn't need to do everything himself; he manages personnel and coordination, letting power flow.
---
That night, in the throne room, Viserys sat upon his throne.
A massive black and red dragon banner hung on the stone wall. The night's council was about war—the coming Battle of the Twin Stars.
Viserys had removed his armor and changed into a silver robe, looking more at ease.
Beneath the ancient Valyrian steel crown, his authority remained absolute. On his fingers, he wore the purple Ring of Fire and the red Ring of Blood.
With Viserys's return, Viserysfort seemed to find its backbone. The war machine began to turn in earnest.
Though the Red Viper was brilliant and politically experienced, in Andalos, only Viserys's authority was supreme. Viserys was the soul of this reborn nation.
"My lords, I need not waste words. You know that Khal Drogo has led his savage army out of the Great Grass Sea, goaded by the Tyroshi to march on the White City. I tell you now, there are two fates before us: survival or destruction, war or peace, masters of Andalos or slaves." Viserys's voice rang like steel. His gaze passed over their faces, which looked as grave as lead paintings.
---
The Dothraki were infamous, but infamy is still fame.
"We choose war!"
"We choose war!"
Though the lands of Andalos and the Rhoyne were vast, they had reached a critical moment of life and death.
"Good. That is the answer I wanted. War, war." Viserys waved a hand, and the voices quieted. "Forty centuries look down upon us from the hills of Andalos."
"Rhaenys, when I march against the Horselords, you will govern the White Castle. Master Syrio will assist you."
"Count Roland, I appoint you Castellan of Viserysfort, responsible for the city's operations. The Privy Council and the Department of Works must heed my will and assist Count Roland."
"It shall be done!"
"It shall be done!"
The Rhoynar and Andal elders of the Privy Council held their breath. This war would decide their fate.
Would they sink into being a third-rate people, or would they struggle for the revival of their ancient nations?
"Produce the 'fruit' at full capacity," Viserys said to Valentine.
"Yes, Your Grace," the pyromancer Valentine replied respectfully. "Rumor has it that dragons and wildfire share a connection. I will produce wildfire with all my might."
Magic had been slowly returning in recent years, and the potency and production of wildfire had improved slightly. But a true surge would require a celestial omen, like the Red Comet.
While the magical fluctuations brought by Sunblaze weren't enough to summon the Bleeding Star, they helped boost wildfire production.
Viserys had prepared a batch of wildfire for Drogo. It wouldn't be enough to wipe out the entire Dothraki horde, but it would certainly cause the Khal significant trouble.
"Have the smithies work double shifts, supervised by the Department of Works. As for horses, we don't have time to breed or buy more. Pentos has few to spare. We must rely on what we have," Viserys said.
When it came to horses, Viserys couldn't catch up to the Dothraki even if he had years.
The Dothraki Sea was one of the best breeding grounds in the world. Since he couldn't get horses from the Reach or the Grass Sea, he would have to make do with his current cavalry.
The lands of Andalos and the Rhoyne did not lack iron ore; otherwise, the smithing skills of the Andals and Rhoynar wouldn't be legendary.
Viserys hadn't found gold or silver mines in Andalos, but iron was plentiful.
The Chief Artisan, Hotha of Tyrosh, nodded, promising that the war effort would not be delayed.
"How are the scorpions and trebuchets for Viserysfort?" Viserys asked.
Whether from Pentos or Myr, Viserys had poached a great many experts.
This era had vast lands and few people, so timber was not scarce. And since western castles were built on stone foundations, wood was available for siege engines.
"The smaller scorpions and trebuchets are ready. Only four of the largest trebuchets are still under construction, but they will be ready before the war begins," the Chief Artisan assured him.