"Rey, that's just your theory. You need sufficient data and practical cases to support your argument," Draezell said, pulling the lever to lower the lift platform. "At the very least, you can't disprove the theory that dragons can have male and female distinctions."
"Fine," Rey muttered, unable to refute his brother's point. He didn't have enough evidence yet to validate his theory about egg dragons and combat dragons. Only as the family's dragon flock expanded could he gradually test his still immature ideas.
The lift platform descended steadily into the dragonpit. Silverguards surrounded them as they landed, and Chief Steward Yamor approached with a knowing expression, clearly aware of the reason for the brothers' visit.
"Your Grace, the egg was indeed laid by Candlelight. We've confirmed it multiple times," Yamor reported.
"I know," Draezell replied, raising his hand to signal the Silverguards to stand down. With Valar and Rey in tow, he moved toward the dark cliffs. Climbing the rocks, they entered the nest of three hatchlings.
Noticing their arrival, Starsong poked his head out of his nook, preparing to roar, but Draezell silenced him with a sharp command: "Quiet, Starsong."
Starsong, already tamed by Rhaegor, shouldn't have obeyed anyone else's orders. However, Draezell was an exception. His dragon, Vermithor, reigned as the "king" of the pit. Any hatchling under Vermithor's protection was compelled to respect Draezell. Moreover, Draezell was a blood Wizard, though he refrained from using blood magic on dragons, at least for now.
The brothers crawled into Candlelight's nest. Seeing Draezell, Candlelight immediately shielded her head with her massive wings.
"Don't be afraid, Candlelight," Draezell said in High Valyrian. Slowly, the dragon unfolded her wings, revealing her still grotesque head devoid of horns or scales. Her body, lined with eerie tentacles, was coiled protectively. Unlike when she first hatched, Candlelight now controlled these appendages, keeping them tightly pressed against her body rather than dragging them limply behind her.
After inspecting Candlelight, Draezell nodded and led his brothers back out. Rey, full of questions, was about to speak, but Valar stopped him. They waited until they were back at the Silverguard post before Draezell addressed Rey's concerns.
"You noticed it too — Candlelight's tentacles may prove uniquely effective in close dragon combat," Draezell said, tapping his brother's forehead. "If those tentacles entangle an opponent or even attack the rider directly, combined with her far sharper claws than other dragons, she won't be a weakling in a fight."
Looking Rey in the eye, Draezell continued, "You can't dismiss her combat potential so easily."
Rey lowered his head but remained determined. He would not abandon his theories. Using Candlelight, Starsong, Morning, and the newly hatched Zarafax and Aegarax as research subjects, he intended to refine his ideas step by step.
"Brother, I heard you're selecting a new Bloodsworn Brother?" Valar asked, sensing Rey's thoughtful silence and changing the topic. Unlike the Kingsguard, who served for life under strict oaths with a fixed number of seven members, Draezell's Bloodsworn Brothers were a more flexible unit. They provided close protection, but members holding key positions or sent on assignments were not removed from their ranks.
"Do you have a recommendation?" Draezell inquired.
"Arthor Celtigar," Valar replied immediately. Since Leyla married him, Arthor had joined their household. At fifteen, he was skilled in archery and horseback riding, with a particular talent for spearsskills honed under Hoffa's training.
"Arthor?" Draezell chuckled. "Hoffa's already put him on the list."
Valar felt a bit embarrassed; he should have anticipated this. With Hoffa's meticulous nature, Arthor wouldn't have been overlooked.
While the brothers inspected Candlelight, elsewhere in the dragon lair, in the Hatchling Nursery.
Aegon, Rhaegor, Viserys, and Samantha sat in a circle, amused by the antics of Aegarax as he trailed Zarafax. The sapphire-hued hatchling lazed on a dragon crystal perch, its long tail swaying lazily. Aegarax, captivated by the dangling tail, dragged his bulkier body around, tirelessly chasing it.
Viserys wished he could find a hole to hide in. Aegon, however, had shifted from teasing him about it days earlier to watching the hatchlings with growing calm.
"So dragons have such rich emotions," Aegon mused. His own Stormcloud, though perfect in loyalty and temperament, acted like a sycophant around Shadowmare and Vormax. Watching Aegarax' behavior, Aegon felt a sense of acceptance.
"Is Aegarax courting Zarafax?" Samantha asked curiously, having recently learned the term. The moment she spoke, Zarafax retracted her tail. Aegarax looked up longingly as Zarafax lazily stretched on the perch. Sliding down elegantly, her sapphire scales shimmered brilliantly under the nursery's firelight.
Gracefully, the hatchling glided down beside Aegarax. With a soft cry, Zarafax silenced his whines. Aegarax immediately bounded over, though he dared not get too close, merely circling her with an eager yet cautious demeanor.
"I can't take it anymore! Aegarax, anyone who wants to tame you can go ahead and try!" Viserys was on the verge of tears. He could never have imagined that his bonded dragon would behave so unbelievably exasperatingly.
"Calm down," Rhaegor couldn't help but console him. "Maybe this is just a temporary issue. Cousin Viserys, have you forgotten? Caraxes and Vhagar were once mates, yet after Vhagar was claimed by Aemond, they fought viciously on the battlefield."
"When did Caraxes ever fight Vhagar? Wasn't it your father on Vermithor who killed Vhagar?" Viserys quickly blinked back his tears, confused.
"I was giving an example," Rhaegor sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "It's obvious you didn't pay attention during Maester Visari's lessons. Dragons may have emotions, but they are far more attuned to the bond with their rider. If I am to have a younger brother soon, then in time Aegarax and Zarafax will no longer act this way."
"Oh." Viserys made a noise of understanding, his mood calming slightly.
"By the way, Rhaegor, what about Daenyra?" Aegon leaned in curiously.
This time it was Samantha who spoke. "Father intends for my brother to marry Daenyra, so, Cousin Viserys, you'll have to wait a few more years." The little girl smirked mischievously at Viserys.
Viserys could only pray that Diana was carrying a boy. He didn't want his dragon to continue obsessing over another dragon just because their riders were wed. The children watched as the two young dragons continued to tussle playfully.
---
Meanwhile, in King's Landing.
Daemon held the letter in his hands, suppressing the urge to slam his fist down. The only thing stopping him was the fact that he was seated on the Iron Throne. If he missed and struck one of its blades, it could be disastrous. He couldn't believe someone had actually attempted to steal a dragon, let alone planned to head to Dragonstone after failing. Did they truly think the Targaryens had no dragonriders left?
Those gathered in the throne room glanced uneasily at one another, unsure how to react to the regent's visible anger.
Daemon took a deep breath, shoved the letter into his tunic, and said in a low voice, "Next."
A merchant stepped forward hesitantly, unable to meet Daemon's gaze. "Your Grace, I humbly request an increase in the tariff on foreign grain entering King's Landing. The influx of imported grain is harming local merchants. Could you consider—"
"Merchant, winter is upon us, and you want to risk starvation in King's Landing?" Daemon almost laughed at the audacity. He acknowledged that the heavy taxes imposed by Lord Bartimos Celtigar in the past had severely impacted local grain traders. But attempting to inflate grain prices now? Over his dead body.
The regent waved dismissively, signaling the end of the day's petitions. Ignoring the merchant's protests as he was dragged away, Daemon turned to Tyland Lannister and Bartimos Celtigar. "I'll be heading to Dragonstone for a short time. During my absence, council meetings are suspended. The Small Council will manage the city in my stead. Tyland, I need you to prioritize selecting a new Master of Whisperes. Bartimos, ensure the price of grain in King's Landing does not rise by even a single copper. Also, have the ships from Craw Isle monitor all vessels heading north."
"As you command."
After Tyland departed, Bartimos followed Daemon anxiously. "Your Grace, is this about the dragon thieves?"
Daemon glanced at Celtigar in confusion before realization dawned. "I nearly forgot your daughter married Valar. Did Draezell send you a raven?"
"Every ship from Craw Isle is patrolling the waters," Bartimos replied. "I can assure you, if any suspicious individuals appear, we'll apprehend them immediately."
Daemon halted, studying Bartimos for a moment. "Let Caraxes do the talking," he said finally. The regent's gaze turned steely. "It seems the Free Cities have forgotten the taste of fire. It's time to remind them."
Out at sea.
The Ratcatcher, a sleek ship, cut through the waves like an arrow aimed at a distant target.
Standing on the deck, Tom patted the back of a young Dothraki man wearing a vest of painted furs. "Honestly, Ko Droko, if you get seasick so easily, why insist on coming along?"
Droko wiped his mouth, staring warily at the sea. "This cursed poison water, unfit even for horses to drink!" If it weren't for avenging the insult to Khal Draezell's winged steed, he wouldn't have boarded this wooden beast again. He still remembered hiding in the ship's hold during the great migration, refusing to even glance at the water.
"Brother Droko, you'll get used to it after a few more voyages!" shouted Adam, barefoot and shirtless as he adjusted the rigging. He was rewarded with a sharp glare from Droko.
The boy hunched his shoulders and returned to his work.
"Tom, we've been chasing them for days." The ship's captain, Marlda, known as the "Mouse" and wife of Dennis, emerged from the cabin. "Any leads yet?"
Tom shook his head. Yesterday, they had intercepted a ship from Lys carrying many silver-haired, violet-eyed sailors, but none matched the descriptions Adam and Erin had provided.
"It's strange," grumbled Dennis. "We didn't find them near Tarth, and there's no trace of them in Blackwater Bay. Could they have already reached Dragonstone? Tom, I say we let the boy send a raven to the prince, tell him to head straight to Dragonstone. Wherever those dragon thieves go, they'll have to land there."
Before Dennis could finish, a piercing shout interrupted their conversation.
"Dragon!"