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Low on the eastern horizon, there was a red comet; it was the color of blood, the color of fire, trailing a tail like a dragon's—the great comet had a long tail.
Everyone saw this unique omen, a miraculous celestial phenomenon.
"What is that?"
Whether they were Andalos, dothraki, people of Tyrosh, or Dornishmen, all looked up at the red comet streaking across the sky, as if it were a gushing, bleeding wound carved into the firmament.
The septons who had been praying for the soldiers on the battlefield, and the old septas mourning the fallen Andal soldiers, now all gazed at the strange celestial sight.
A blood-red comet, a weeping sword, a burning sword—it was a strange omen.
Red was the color of the House Targaryen; black and red.
"That is the star of King Viserys, representing the great victory His Majesty has achieved. The gods have raised a banner for him, to show their reverence."
"The banner of the gods, the praise of the gods." High Septon Umber cheered, and all the other priests cheered along with him, blowing their conch shells loudly.
This was the star of victory, presaging that Viserys would overcome all enemies.
As people gazed upon it, the great victory and the strange celestial phenomenon seemed to drape a divine halo over Viserys.
The pyre was filled with twigs and hay, and incense oil had been poured over those being burned to facilitate the flames.
Fires ignited everywhere; at first, they were just small, nimble fire-rats, sliding across the layer of oil, leaping from bark to branch, then jumping onto the leaves.
Then the flames turned into baring-fanged fire pythons, the heat growing increasingly intense, becoming unbearable.
The flames spiraled and twisted, chasing one another, climbing step by step toward the top of the platform.
The air seemed to liquefy from the intense heat, shimmering in the night.
Viserys heard the firewood cracking and the flames surging like a tide; he watched the dead and the living burning fiercely within the fire.
The flames engulfed the only living person, Myles Toyne, the Blackheart. His voice turned into a trembling howl, shrill and high-pitched, filled with agony, until it was finally extinguished.
"Harry." Viserys said.
"I am here, Your Majesty." Harry Strickland stood straight; this was perhaps the moment he looked most like a warrior in his entire life.
The homeless Harry looked almost nothing like a warrior.
He was stout, with a large, round head, pale gray eyes, and sparse hair that he combed over to cover his baldness.
He had only obtained this position through seniority; the one who should have succeeded to lead the Golden Company was the Lion. As a treasurer, he was originally just a technocrat.
The life and death of the Golden Company officers hung by a thread.
"Myles disappointed me, do you understand? Do not disappoint me."
"I understand." Harry saw the rage in the King's violet eyes; in that moment, he saw the wrath of the True Dragon.
Beads of sweat congealed on Harry's face; death was close at hand.
There was no time to grieve for Myles; Myles had died for his own obsession, and they should be worried about their own lives and deaths.
The Khal and the Tyroshi could die; even if the Golden Company resisted, they could not withstand the dragon's maw.
"Take care of your men first; I will make arrangements for them later." Viserys said.
The Golden Company was a large-scale legion; it was impossible for them to remain united now. Splitting, merging, and dispersing would be inevitable.
For now, the matter of the Golden Company was not that critical.
Viserys felt the surging magical elements in the air beginning to fluctuate, a tide flowing ceaselessly, as if it were about to tear away shackles and constraints.
This was the very moment, the time, waiting for and calling forth the future of magic and mysticism.
The tide of magic had long been arriving slowly, at Summerhall, in the past, but this moment would be the peak.
"What an exquisite deception." The Red Viper watched the Blackheart dying in the flames and sighed. "To die for this, one could say he got what he sought."
Blackheart Myles, fat Illyrio, and Varys were on the first layer.
Then they deceived the Lion, Jon Clinton, spinning him around in circles, and even the little Blackfire himself believed he was a dragon.
With the Griffin stepping forward as a protector, Young Aegon's identity gained an extra halo, and the Griffin's talent and loyalty were known to all.
He was one of Rhaegar's close friends, and the world had originally believed those people were all dead.
The Red Viper thought Prince Doran was resilient and patient, but he hadn't expected Varys, the fat man, and Blackheart to have such grand designs.
Viserys watched the fire snakes dancing and said indifferently, "I let him go; he had simply lost the will to live."
Regarding the restoration of the Iron Throne, the original group—William Dary and the Dornishmen—had an agreement to push Viserys to the throne.
And Blackheart Myles Toyne, Magister Illyrio, and Varys were another group; the Lion was a tool who had been taken in, and the agreement was about the so-called ascension of Young Aegon.
The Dornishmen had never heard of this person; they had always been focused on the line of Viserys and his sister.
In the original winds of winter, the Lion wrote letters to recruit the Dornishmen.
Prince Doran was full of doubt about the stranger he had never dealt with. "If my sister's flesh and blood could survive, we would weep with joy, but what evidence do we have to prove that this is Aegon?"
"In the past, regarding many things, I only thought Varys was a complete villain. Now it seems that the infighting of the royal family was also what he hoped for." The Red Viper mused.
The Red Viper could be considered an eyewitness to the rift between Aerys and his son back then; Rhaegar taking his wife and children to live alone on Dragonstone had caused a huge uproar at the time.
Aerys's tyranny had also intensified after Varys arrived.
"He is a descendant of Brightflame and Blackfire; he has long hated us to the core." Viserys looked at the pyre; the grievances ended here, danced in flames.
There was no need to mention the hatred between Blackfire and the red dragon; Brightflame's bastards across the Narrow Sea were also filled with resentment.
The flames reached the dead—the Khals, the pregnant woman, the witch, the Griffin, and Young Aegon—soon surrounding them completely.
Their clothes caught fire; in an instant, these people seemed to be wearing fluttering orange silk robes, with wisps of gray smoke rising from their bodies.
"Your Majesty, I have a question: how did you know?" The Red Viper asked cautiously.
"I dreamed it." Viserys said candidly to The Red Viper. "I dreamed of a vast battlefield, where the Griffin and the Black Dragon intended to sneak an attack from behind the Red Dragon."
The Red Viper nodded; another dragon dreamer.
Dragon dreams were no secret to these great nobles, especially for someone as learned as The Red Viper.
However, it seemed that Viserys's dragon dreams were much more reliable than Rhaegar's; Rhaegar's dragon dreams had brought about his destruction.
"He is not a True Dragon." Viserys looked at Young Aegon burning in the fire and said to The Red Viper. "A True Dragon is not afraid of fire."
"He could be considered the last of the Black Dragons." The Red Viper sighed.
Viserys watched his dragon egg; he had placed the dragon egg and the dragon nest at the very top of the pyre and had been keeping an eye on the movement of the dragon egg.
The flames kept rising in temperature, the blood-red comet appeared, yet the dragon egg remained still.
Flesh melted, leaving only bones; the dragon egg seemed to shimmer in the flames, yet it did not hatch.
King, fetus, witch.
Khal Drogo and Khal Jommo could also be considered kings, and one could barely argue that Young Aegon had a bit of king's blood.
Jommo's murdered wife and fetus, the witch who was burned for her false prophecy.
The dead, the living, the half-dead.
Khal Jommo, his wife was dead, the dead witch was dead, the Griffin and Young Aegon were also dead. The mortally wounded Drogo was half-dead, plus one living person, Myles.
Viserys had gathered these people on the pyre, but there was still no major movement.
Viserys smelled the scent of human flesh roasting; it was no different from the smell of horse meat roasting on the battlefield.
The smoke grew thicker, and the surrounding people coughed while retreating one after another.
The giant orange flames stirred up a hellish wind, blowing the nearby black and red banners until they snapped, and the firewood hissed and cracked.
Glowing embers from within the pyre rose from the smoke, drifting into the boundless night, like thousands of newborn fireflies.
The flames brought immeasurable fire and heat; the flames waved giant, scorching wings.
In the end, the vast majority of people could not bear it; they hurriedly retreated, and even The Red Viper moved away.
"Your Majesty, we should move back." The Red Viper said.
AI Model: gemini-3.0-flash
Only Viserys still stood in place; he was a True Dragon.
Viserys looked at the flames. The House Targaryen had a high tolerance for heat, but they were not absolutely immune to fire.
There was no Targaryen who did not fear fire. Dany's case was a one-time magic, extremely unique.
Targaryens' heat tolerance is stronger than most, and they enjoy hot baths and the like, but they still fear fire. Dragons, on the contrary, are basically unafraid of fire.
As a Fire Channeler, Viserys had a higher tolerance for fire, but he was not completely immune to it.
"Krell, my little Squire," Viserys instructed. "Prepare a new set of clothes for me."
"As you command, Your Majesty." Krell hurried off to get them.
"Do I still need to serve as a catalyst?" Viserys thought. "I have the blood of the True Dragon; I am a Fire Channeler."
The flames danced before Viserys, swirling and singing; the orange-yellow flames danced, appearing exceptionally beautiful.
All the dragon eggs remained completely still.
Viserys had already seen the surge of red light spots; this was the omen of Fire Magic. Just one step away, only one step was needed.
"Your Majesty, what are you doing?"
"Come back quickly."
Harry fell back onto the ground, not expecting this of King Viserys.
This victor actually turned and bathed in the fire; everyone felt a sense of horror.
"What I am about to do will far surpass generations, dozens of generations."
"Roar!" Sunfyre let out a roar; he felt Viserys's emotions.
Viserys continued forward, his skin beginning to glow with a red light. It was too hot, hot to an astonishing degree.
Viserys took another step forward. Even though he had some ability to manipulate the Fire Element, facing such high temperatures for a long time was still very dangerous.
Viserys felt the intense heat of the sand transmit through his soles to his feet. Sweat flowed across his thighs and chest, pouring down from his cheeks like a river.
Since the time Viserys was willing to bet everything to obtain the crown, he had rarely shed tears.
The Red Viper, Argos, Krell, and the others called his name from behind, but they were no longer important; the only thing that mattered was the fire.
The Red Viper watched Viserys, his eyes wide.
The envoys from Qohor and Norvos rubbed their eyes vigorously; the scene was too frenzied.
The flames were so beautiful; Viserys had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.
Every tuft of fire was like a wizard wearing a robe of red, orange, and yellow, with a fluttering, smoky cloak draped over their shoulders.
At first, Viserys saw three grey steeds drawn from thick smoke, their flying manes a mass of glowing blue fire.
This represented the Khals—two Khals and an unborn prince.
Viserys saw the wailing black dragon and lion, the black stag, the bright red fire lion, the golden giant serpent, and the Unicorn composed of pale blue flames; he saw fish, foxes, and monsters, wolves, bright birds, and flowering trees, each more beautiful than the last.
Viserys felt the flames surging and flowing around him; it was not just his talent as a Fire Channeler at work, but the flames forming a state similar to the eye of a storm around him.
He was surrounded by flames, yet he did not fall.
For a moment, Viserys saw the flames like venomous snakes, wanting to consume him.
But he could not back down.
"I am only myself," Viserys looked at the flames. "I am the True Dragon, I am the fire, I am the King."
Viserys must not let the flames break him; the resurrected Fire Zombies were not truly human, their emotions and humanity would be indifferent.
"Boom!" Viserys threw down his clothes and robes; in the flames, the clothes all caught fire.
"The King is still alive!" The Red Viper roared, quickly stopping the King's reckless Squires, Argos and Donal, who intended to rush into the fire.
Viserys took another step toward the flames; now, it was this very moment.
Viserys saw the dead ghosts seemingly reappear; Khal Drogo and Khal Jommo rode ashen steeds, holding whips of fire.
The lion and Young Aegon both had sorrowful expressions; the witch and the pregnant woman were in a state of daze.
The ghosts looked at Viserys in anger, wanting to consume him and tear him to pieces.
"You were no match for me when you were alive; what is there to fear now that you are dead?" Viserys was not afraid at all, and the angry ghosts drifted away and dissipated into smoke.
Crack!
The platform built of logs, twigs, and hay began to sway and collapse inward.
Burning wood chips scattered around Viserys; he was bathed in a field of ash and sparks.
Something unknown rolled down with a rumble, bouncing before landing at his feet: it was a curved stone with red veins in the black, currently cracking and smoking.
Only death can pay for life.
The flames continued to burn, smoke curling up to consume all the wood; the entire funeral pyre began to shake.
All around were people calling Viserys's name: The Red Viper, Krell, Argos, Earl Roland, Donal, and Gaelin.
Horses were screaming, the dragons were roaring, and the dothraki began to shout in terror.
"I'm still alive, stop shouting," Viserys yelled, though he wasn't sure if they could hear him clearly.
The flames danced around Viserys; he was the scion of the dragon, the master of dragons, the king of flames.
With a pillar of towering flame and smoke rising forty or fifty feet high, the funeral platform completely collapsed, tumbling down around him.
Viserys stepped forward into the firestorm without fear, calling to those children.
The sound of the pyre collapsing was like thunder, followed by the deafening roar of dragons.
Sunfyre flew over everyone and then dove toward the center of the flames and ash.
Standing there, Viserys was completely naked, covered in soot; his fine clothes were reduced to ash, and his beautiful silver-white hair was also burnt away—
But he himself was unharmed. Viserys's valyrian steel crown remained as it was, only its color had turned darker.
"There, good partner," Viserys stroked Sunfyre's snout; Sunfyre let out an uneasy roar.
Viserys stood in place, the newborn dragons frolicking about.
The cream and gold dragon stood by his left foot, while the bronze and green one stood by his right.
The black and red dragon draped itself over Viserys's shoulder, wrapping its long, sinuous neck around his chin.
In Viserys's arms were two more dragons: a gold and purple one, and a blue one.
The dragons widened their eyes; the black and red dragon's eyes, glowing red like coals, stared at Sunfyre.
Seeing the larger dragon, the little dragons were still very afraid.
Sunfyre snorted, then circled Viserys and let out another roar.
The Red Viper was the first to kneel, followed by the Andalos, the dothraki, and the men of the Golden Company and the Windblown Company.
"The Unburnt."
All the warriors knelt on the ground, regardless of age or gender.
The Andalos, the commanders of the Golden Company, and the commanders of the Windblown Company.
Even the monk envoys from Norvos and the Viceroy of Qohor prostrated themselves, having witnessed the miracle of rebirth with their own eyes.
"Krell, bring me my clothes," Viserys said.
He was currently as bald as a braised egg, naked while wearing a crown; he'd better get some clothes.
Krell ran over in a hurry, bringing a set of black and red clothes.
"true dragon khal."
"true dragon khal..." the dothraki murmured, then all pressed their faces against the smoking ground.
Viserys looked into their eyes; it was so today, and would be so tomorrow, and forevermore—not a submission out of fear of might, but a heartfelt conviction.
Sunfyre's roar filled the wilderness.
The black dragon let out a hiss, puffing several wisps of white smoke from its nostrils, and the others began to move at the same time, joining the golden dragon's roar in unison.
They spread their translucent wings and flapped against the air.
Then all the dragons began to roar, crying out together.
For the first time in centuries, the dragons danced again.
Viserys smiled faintly; the dragons were roaring, and soon the world would see even greater excitement.