In the chambers, filled with silk, wine, and exquisite beauty, a boy was sleeping with a peaceful expression. He seemed innocent and boyish, his soft features too serene, and his body too still, as if incapable of moving.
His chest rose and fell faintly in the dimly lit chambers, the breathing difficult to notice if you didn't pay attention, while his head was resting on a stunning woman's chest. She caressed his hair tenderly, humming a gentle tune and kissing his head.
However, the moment she noticed his body going still, not even the slightest twitch of his fingers being visible, she sighed and grabbed his cheeks, her nails digging into his flesh as she stared at the corpse of the boy with a delighted smile, laughing to herself and kissing him, his dead flesh still warm.
"It's over... Rest well, my boy. You won't be missed, hahaha." She threw her head back and laughed maliciously, her eyes gleaming with greed and joy. "Well, at least I fucked you before dying. You should be grateful for that. That's the greatest blessing you could've received."
"Are you done raping a corpse, Saera Targaryen?" An emotionless voice reverberated across the chambers, chilling yet serene.
Saera blinked in bewilderment, her eyes widening in disbelief and fear as she turned around in panic, but when she saw a young woman in tattered dark, sand-coloured robes, she exhaled in relief.
The young woman was completely covered with clothes, only her red pupils could be seen, shining in the darkness like blood.
Gulping, Saera felt chills crawling up her spine as cold sweat rolled across her skin, her face pale and her tone hesitant as she spoke, almost stuttering.
"Yes... Nightshade already did its job. It was as you said. It made him fall asleep after three hours, and now he's barely breathing. I think in a few minutes-"
"In eight minutes. Nightshade kills its target after three hours and eight minutes." The mysterious woman corrected her, crossing her legs and leaning back, her fingers interlaced and her voice devoid of any emotion.
"Yes… eight minutes. Soon, he will sleep for eternity." Saera nodded timidly, her earlier arrogance washed away like morning dew beneath the scorching sun.
After a brief hesitation, she cleared her throat, a soft cough slipping past her lips as she tried to draw the woman's attention away from the prince's lifeless body. "Can we now…?"
"Yes. It is time to claim the Screaming Death." The woman inclined her head, her expression utterly still as she confirmed Saera's suspicion.
Yet Saera found little comfort in those words. Her face hardened, dissatisfaction flashing openly across her features. "Could we… ahem… you, my lady, simply steal the dragon egg? Surely such a task is within your capabilities."
The woman's crimson eyes finally shifted from Zalarys's unmoving form, turning toward Saera with unnatural intensity. "What is it that displeases you?"
"That dragon... It's a deformed ugly beast. There's no grace, nor any beauty found in that filthy being. It's a hideous and loathsome monstrosity." She grimaced, her body shuddering at the thought of bonding with Murghagon, recalling the dragon's harrowing form.
The woman remained silent for some time, staring at her bleakly, her eyes hollow and inhuman, yet there was something pure found in that emptiness.
Sighing, she shook her head, disgust flashing across her hidden face, as well as pity and disappointment, as she muttered inaudibly under her breath. "This wretched whore..."
She narrowed her eye in irritation, glancing at Saera and stated serenely, "Sadly, you don't have any choice. Either Murghagon or remain dragonless."
Saera bristled at her tone, scowling with obvious disdain, like a child demanding everything that caught her eye in a bazaar when a parent takes her out. Unfortunately, children never get everything they want, but only what they're allowed to get.
Curious, the unknown woman tilted her head and asked her, "Why are you angry? Because it's not beautiful? What kind of stupidity is this? Do dragonlords keep dragons because they're beautiful? Or because they're weapons of catastrophic might?"
"I understand that, but a beautiful dragon too can bring destruction of the same kind as that disgusting, wretched horror." Saera argued back, the two of them leaving the chambers and walking out.
"No, they can't. You don't seem to understand very well how lethal this dragon is and what kind of unrepairable damage it can cause. Be thankful for having the chance of bonding with the Screaming Death, as there's no greater glory bestowed upon a man than becoming his rider." She said coldly, no sound escaping her steps, walking like a cat.
Saera shook her head, irritated with her vague words, but she was also suspicious of her. She had remained silent all this time in hopes of claiming the dragon, but now the opportunity was right in front of her, she decided to clear things up and preferably understand her intentions.
"What will you gain from this? You aren't becoming a dragonrider, but I am. There's no benefit in giving me aid."
Hearing her question, the woman paused for a moment, her lips curling up behind the veil covering her face, and replied with amusement creeping into her voice. "Let's say... It's to satisfy my curiosity and as well evaluate the character."
Saera stared at her, unimpressed and annoyed by her vague answer as they left the brothels behind, venturing outside of the city and approaching the port.
Curiosity and... to evaluate my character, huh? Who does she think she is!? She thought loudly in her mind, her eye twitching as she clenched her fists. Me... Saera Targaryen judged by this pitiful lowborn... The moment I claim this beast, the first to die will be you, bitch.
She thought with a bloodthirsty sneer, shaking her head with a scoff. Hmm… Now that I think about it, the boy should be dead by now.
She grinned with excitement, resisting the urge to dance as she walked, laughing joyfully at the thought of her nephew's death.
The wine she had drunk back then and given to Zalarys was filled with Nightshade, after all. And while the antidote was given to her by this mysterious woman, Zalarys was left without one.
Nightshade was silent and insidious. At first, it would relax the one who consumed it, making him feel at ease. After two hours, though, unnatural lethargy would overwhelm their body, and after one hour and eight minutes, the body would fully enter a slumber-like state where every part stopped working, including the heart, and the consumer would die.
Saera was aware of this process, and that's why she did everything to satisfy him, including sucking his cock, which she found distasteful and not particularly enjoyable. Well, she enjoyed forcing boys or girls to suck and lick her cunt, preferably a little ones, but her doing it? No, she didn't like it in the slightest.
Besides, she was experienced, having fucked every kind of man and sometimes even women if a client demanded it and had enough gold. That's why she knew how nervous boys could be when having sex for the first time. They were easily influenced, charmed, and controlled, completely giving her the lead.
So she used that confusion and nervousness, even if he was hesitant and uncertain, forcing herself upon him and doing everything necessary to keep his thoughts occupied, not allowing him to think about anything but her.
All she needed to do was fuck him senseless until he couldn't even form a single coherent thought, disguising the lethargy from the poison as exhaustion caused by sex.
It was a perfect plan.
Men may rule the world, but it is the woman's palm they will dance upon.
"It's time."
The strange woman's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, reaching the dark waters of the sea. Saera couldn't see anything, all she saw was a cold, chilling abyss.
Swallowing hard, she nodded to herself, encouraging herself in her mind that she would succeed, that the dragon was truly hers already. However, there wasn't anything visible in the darkness, which made her uneasy.
"Is the filthy creature truly here?"
"Yes. Call it." The woman answered simply, her tone cold, and took a step back, observing her and the surroundings, making sure they were alone.
Saera closed her eyes, her heart beating wildly. She didn't know why or what kind of emotions she felt right now. Joy at spitting back at her parents by killing her nephew? Excitement at claiming a dragon? Fear of failure? She didn't know, it was a whirlpool of conflicting feelings raging in her heart.
So she took a deep breath, stepped forward, and proclaimed loudly, her tone demanding and filled with arrogance.
"Naejot māzīs... Murghagon!" [Come forward... Murghagon!]
Staring at the tenebrous depth of the sea, she froze, rooted in place like a statue, alarm signals from her mind screaming at her to run as far as possible and continue running even if she was safe.
Her finger twitched at first, and then her entire body began shaking as if she had been left in the North without any clothes, a dreadful presence rising from the depths. It was a feeling so familiar, one that she wished to forget with all her might, yet was unable to root out that loathsome seed of fear.
It was the same kind of terror one feels when standing in front of a barking hound, abandoning all reason and running with all one's might to escape, not looking back, incapable of even forming a single thought, all one can do is run, run, and run.
But unfortunately, it wasn't a hound this time. It was something far, far worse, perhaps the worst.
It was the sovereign of the skies, the dragon.
However, Saera didn't know if this was the fitting title. She understood right now that this beast, which she disdained so much, didn't just reign supreme over the air, but also the land and the seas.
At first, there was silence, and then she felt the pulse. With that pulse formed two orbs of sickly green light in the darkness, and the still, peaceful water trembled, bubbles rising from the depths and exploding the moment they touched the air.
Saera gulped, feeling chills crawling up her spine as she took a step back instinctively, feeling another pulse. The emerald colour became even more dazzling, as if a star was trapped in the dark waters, lines spreading out and branching all around the beast, outlining its skeleton.
She couldn't see him fully, but she could see a shape through the green lines that formed all over its body every time a pulse was felt, and Saera understood that those lines were showing nothing but the skeletal structure of the dragon.
Steam erupted from the sea, even more bubbles rose from the depths, and gradually the water began boiling, turning hot and scorching.
"Gods... What is this abomination..." She whispered to herself as the dragon fully revealed itself, water flowing from Murghagon's gills and streaming out, a hideous bone mask facing Saera instead of the face of a dragon.
Sweat began pouring from her forehead, not just from fear but from the sheer heat emanating from the beast as well. At the same time, she understood where this pulse was coming from, it was the loathsome monster's beating heart.
"Murghagon, rȳbagon yeng." [Murghagon, obey me.]
She said, her voice panicked as the abyssal maw of the beast went wide, as if flesh was splitting apart, and dark, gleaming serrated fangs shone under the moonlight, staring at her with indifference.
The dragon was peculiar, he was much calmer than most dragons, showing no aggression, which made Saera even more confident, believing that the dragon would bond with her.
"Hegnīr, Murghagon, lykirī. Aōha arlie kipagon issa kijil." [Like that, Murghagon, be calm. Your new rider is here.]
She smiled, raising her hand as the dragon lowered his head, leaning on her palm with a low growl.
"Hah... I actually did it?" She spoke, her tone surprised, but slowly her shock, confusion, awe, and fear faded away, leaving nothing but hot, boiling excitement behind. "I did it. I'm a dragonrider now."
Saera didn't know how to explain this feeling. She felt so happy, so elated that she couldn't remain standing, tiptoeing from exhilaration as she threw her head back, laughing like a lunatic, finally having what she had always wanted since the very beginning.
Grinning wildly, she licked her lips, turning around and staring at the woman who remained shrouded by shadows.
Now... It's time to get rid of you too. I would've turned you into a whore, forcing you to get fucked by the ugliest clients, but well, let's say I feel merciful, hah... Hahahaha.
She laughed, issuing the order right away and commanding her dragon with a demanding tone.
"Ipradagon ilībio, Murghagon." [Eat that whore, Murghagon.]
And indeed, the dragon did. After all, it's so hard not to satisfy Saera when she's so demanding, right?