"Come here, Balerion."
At Gendry's call, the young black dragon let out a sharp cry and swept down from the sky. His massive wings beat against the air, sending gusts of wind across the courtyard before he landed beside his master.
Without hesitation, Gendry reached out and grabbed the dragon by the tail, pulling him closer. The black wyrm offered no resistance. There was an invisible connection between them, something deeper than simple training or familiarity. It was as if their blood recognized one another.
Balerion could sense Gendry's presence from nearby distances, and Gendry often felt the dragon's emotions without a word being spoken.
Perhaps that was the nature of dragons.
Or perhaps it was the power flowing through their bloodlines.
To the dragon, Gendry felt like a living furnace—a blazing source of heat and strength.
Slowly, Gendry ran his hand across the dragon's scales.
From the crimson-tipped horns to the thick neck.
From the broad wings to the powerful tail.
The scales were scorching hot beneath his fingers, like black steel left beneath the summer sun. Heat radiated from every inch of the beast's body.
At night, those scales seemed almost alive, reflecting firelight like polished obsidian.
"Hissss!"
Balerion threw back his head and released a piercing shriek.
Yet instead of aggression, there was submission in the sound.
The dragon lowered his head and allowed Gendry to continue.
Unlike the other hatchlings, Balerion was covered almost entirely in jet-black scales. Only his eyes, horns, and the ridges along his spine shone a deep crimson red.
Even among the three dragons, he was clearly the largest.
The strongest.
The most dangerous.
Nearby, the pale dragon Viserion swooped low through the air before landing at Gendry's feet.
Gendry glanced at Balerion's eyes.
Those crimson pupils resembled pools of molten lava, burning with ancient fury.
He met the dragon's gaze without fear.
When raising dragons, one lesson mattered above all else.
Authority must be established early.
The same way a kitten learned its place within a household, a dragon had to understand who commanded it.
Balerion was the most aggressive of the three hatchlings.
He respected strength.
He obeyed confidence.
Anyone who showed weakness before him would eventually lose control.
The difference between raising a dragon and riding one was immense.
The black dragon and the green dragon both possessed fierce, untamed instincts. Without proper discipline, they could one day bring devastation to entire cities.
"Next time you'll do better, Vhagar."
Nearby, Daenerys was stroking the neck of the green dragon.
Vhagar's scales were a magnificent combination of emerald green and burnished bronze. The color resembled ancient moss growing deep within a forest untouched by sunlight.
When light struck those scales, they gleamed like polished jade.
Its claws and teeth, however, were black as midnight.
"And you too, Viserion."
Daenerys smiled softly.
"You need to listen to your older siblings."
Gendry crouched and rubbed the white dragon's head.
Viserion immediately leaned into the touch.
The little dragon was covered in creamy pale scales, while his horns, wing bones, and spinal ridges gleamed gold.
Among the three hatchlings, he appeared the gentlest.
And perhaps the weakest.
That worried Gendry.
The timid often appeared harmless.
Yet fear could make creatures unpredictable.
Viserion reminded him somewhat of Viserys Targaryen—the so-called Beggar King.
Fearful.
Insecure.
Unstable.
Unlike Balerion and Vhagar, who displayed clear personalities and loyalties, Viserion required closer observation.
Particularly now that dragons had returned to the world.
There would inevitably be people seeking to control them.
Dragonseeds.
Dragonlords.
Sorcerers.
Even the mysterious dragon horn rumored to bind dragons to a master's will.
Many dangers existed.
Still, Gendry remained confident.
These dragons had hatched beneath his and Daenerys's care.
They were born through blood and fire.
No one shared a stronger bond with them.
"The dragons know who we are," Gendry thought.
"My blood carries the power of the Storm."
"And Daenerys carries the blood of the Dragon."
Together, they represented the strongest influences in the dragons' lives.
Any distant descendant with a trace of Valyrian blood would struggle to compete with that connection.
Around them, soldiers and servants watched in awe.
Every eye remained fixed upon the dragons.
A miracle had returned to the world.
For centuries, dragons had existed only in stories.
Now they stood before them.
Breathing.
Growing.
Living.
Many of the guards could hardly believe their eyes.
Others felt pride swelling in their chests.
They were witnessing the rebirth of House Targaryen's greatest power.
"My lord."
A calm voice interrupted Gendry's thoughts.
Brienne of Tarth approached carrying a suit of armor.
Gendry turned toward her.
The armor was magnificent.
Black scale plate covered every surface.
Across the breastplate were three emblems crafted from black and crimson gemstones.
The crowned stag.
The warhammer.
The three-headed dragon.
Each symbol gleamed brilliantly beneath the sunlight.
Gendry laughed.
"That's certainly not subtle."
Brienne's lips twitched slightly.
"It wasn't meant to be."
He took the armor from her.
Truthfully, such elaborate armor made him an obvious target during battle.
But appearance mattered.
A ruler had to inspire loyalty.
A commander had to project strength.
A king had to appear larger than life.
Without grandeur, how could one inspire an entire realm?
As attendants helped him put on the armor, Gendry turned toward another figure.
"Maester Qyburn."
The former maester stepped forward.
"Your Highness."
"Protect Daenerys."
Qyburn bowed his head.
"With my life."
"And keep watch on everyone listed in our records."
A strange glint appeared in Qyburn's eyes.
"Already done."
He produced several scrolls.
"I've compiled detailed information regarding dragon-blooded families, practitioners of magic, and individuals of unusual interest throughout the known world."
Gendry nodded approvingly.
He still remembered Quaithe's warning.
Trust not the sea monster and the black flame.
The titan and the griffin.
The son of the tower.
And the dragon of the mummer.
The prophecy remained cryptic.
Yet Gendry had no intention of ignoring it.
If necessary, he would watch every suspicious person in Westeros and Essos.
Qyburn continued.
"House Hightower."
"House Connington."
"The Black Pearl of Braavos."
"And many others."
"I assure you, every significant movement will be monitored."
Gendry smiled.
"Excellent."
War was fought with swords.
But victory often depended upon information.
Few understood that better than Qyburn.
Dragonstone had already become one of the most secure locations in the world.
Longspearmen guarded the walls.
Crossbowmen watched the towers.
Veteran knights patrolled day and night.
Combined with Qyburn's intelligence network, very little could occur without notice.
Daenerys listened carefully.
She understood the necessity.
Dragons were priceless.
Anyone seeking to steal, manipulate, or control them represented a serious threat.
"When will Marwyn arrive?" Gendry asked.
"The Mage should arrive shortly."
Qyburn smiled.
"He has never failed to honor an agreement with me."
"Besides, dragons have returned."
"What mage could resist witnessing such a miracle?"
Gendry nodded.
Marwyn possessed knowledge few others could rival.
Unlike the Citadel's traditional scholars, Marwyn openly embraced magic and the mysteries of the world.
Such people would become increasingly valuable as dragons reshaped history.
"Though we should remain cautious," Qyburn added.
"The grey sheep still fear magic."
"The Citadel would prefer a world without dragons."
A brief silence followed.
Gendry looked toward the horizon.
The war was drawing closer.
Every day brought new reports.
New armies.
New battles.
New opportunities.
"The game has begun," he murmured.
Beside him, Daenerys gently took his hand.
"And soon you'll be marching to war."
There was concern in her violet eyes.
Gendry smiled reassuringly.
"I'll return."
Then he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
"I intend to claim the greatest spoils this war has to offer."
Daenerys laughed softly.
"You will succeed."
"My Storm."
"My Knight."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Only the distant cries of dragons filled the air.
Then Daenerys surprised him.
"I want to ride beside you one day."
She looked toward Vhagar.
"Into battle."
"On dragonback."
Gendry followed her gaze.
The green dragon was still young.
Yet dragons grew quickly.
Much faster than most people realized.
"One day," he promised.
"And when that day comes, the world will tremble."
Daenerys smiled.
For the first time that morning, her worries seemed to fade.
Advance Chapters avilable on patreon (Obito_uchiha)