"No. I'm staying right here with you."
The moment the Cannibal's flames were about to erupt, Baela stepped out from behind the boulder with a gentle smile.
She took Logar's hand, lacing their fingers tightly, and walked with him into the open space. Facing the monstrous black dragon, she began to sing an ancient dragon song in flawless High Valyrian.
"Cannibal, great lord of wings, king of wild dragons,
Hear me—by the blood of Targaryen, I sing this ancient song for you."
Her clear, ethereal voice echoed through the cavern like a living spell.
The Cannibal froze. The dragonflame churning in its throat suddenly died.
"You who have waited alone through endless night, guarding your solitude,
Three dragons' shadows have never truly left the sky.
We are the wind that meets, the flame that shares life,
Bound by heart, bound by song, woven into unbreakable chains."
Logar stood rigid, barely daring to breathe. He held Baela's hand and listened, heart pounding, as the haunting melody filled the cave.
Nearby, Moondancer lowered her head, ears twitching. Even facing the king of wild dragons, the little dragon calmed at the sound of her rider's voice.
"With clear eyes, see the path that fate has written,
Spread your wings, Cannibal, let flame break free from its chains,
Let your wings split the clouds apart."
Baela released Logar's hand and took one step forward, voice soft yet unyielding.
"I swear to you, by song and by blood,
As it was in the dawn of the world—so shall we fly together, side by side, forever free."
ROAR—!!
The Cannibal finally unleashed the flame it had been holding—but not at them. The green-black fire blasted straight into the cavern ceiling, turning solid rock molten. Scorching wind howled through the entire lair.
Logar stared in disbelief. He had never imagined the old Targaryen dragon song could actually subdue the Cannibal's murderous rage.
"Quick—offer it the gift you brought!" Baela glanced back, eyes sparkling with triumph, and gave him a gentle push.
Logar snapped out of it. He licked his dry lips, dragged Grey Ghost's corpse forward, and laid it carefully within reach of the Cannibal's claws.
"Cannibal, this is my gift to you. Eat your fill."
He lifted his head and met the dragon's gaze, chest proud, fear gone.
The Cannibal's green eyes finally settled on the dead dragon. A flicker of obvious pleasure crossed its savage face, and the killing intent faded.
It ignored the two humans, lowered its massive head, snatched up Grey Ghost's body, and carried it back to its warm rock pile to feast.
The wet, crunching sounds of dragon teeth tearing dragon flesh echoed through the cavern—raw, primal, and utterly wild.
Logar's shoulders relaxed. The gift had been accepted. That was a good sign.
But acceptance was not submission.
Even Baela couldn't be sure the infamous king of wild dragons would truly bow.
They stood motionless, barely breathing, watching the Cannibal devour its meal. The air grew thick with sulfur and blood.
Time crawled. Finally, the Cannibal swallowed the last scrap, let out a deep, satisfied belch, and began to curl up for sleep.
"That's… it?" Logar frowned.
After everything—hunting Grey Ghost in secret, risking the queen's wrath—was this all he got? The Cannibal wouldn't kill him, but it still refused to claim him as rider?
"Looks like… we failed," Baela whispered, squeezing his hand. Disappointment and regret filled her eyes.
The Cannibal had ruled Dragonstone for years. One dead dragon was never going to be enough to tame its pride.
"Let's go," Logar said with a bitter smile.
The price had been steep. He'd lost a wild dragon and would probably face Rhaenyra's fury. A total loss.
He felt a wave of emptiness. Maybe he would have to swallow his pride and try his luck with Vermithor alongside the other bastards after all.
"Wait—Logar…"
Baela suddenly froze and yanked his arm. "Look!"
Logar whipped around.
The Cannibal had lowered its body, but its eyes were still open—those cold green slits now fixed on him. The earlier savagery was gone, replaced by something quiet… almost submissive.
"This… this can't be real."
Logar's heart slammed against his ribs. A wild, impossible hope exploded inside him.
He took a deep breath, gathered every ounce of courage he possessed, and walked slowly toward the dragon.
The huge black beast simply watched him, then calmly lowered its head and folded its wings tighter—inviting, not threatening.
Logar could hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.
He reached out, trembling, and laid his palm on the dragon's warm, leathery wing.
The scales were hard and hot, pulsing with living fire. The sensation was overwhelming.
This time the Cannibal did not roar. Instead, a low, rumbling purr rose from deep in its throat—like approval, like welcome.
The warm breath washed over Logar's face, comforting and steady.
The meaning was unmistakable.
Logar didn't hesitate. He climbed onto the Cannibal's broad back, gripped the ridges of its neck, and let out a wild, triumphant laugh.
"Hahaha—I did it!"
"Logar!" Baela clapped both hands over her mouth, tears of pure joy streaming down her cheeks.
She had hoped only for survival. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined the tyrannical king of wild dragons would actually accept a rider.
ROAR—!!
The moment Logar settled, the once-untamable Cannibal surged to its feet. It threw back its massive head and let out a long, majestic cry that shook the entire mountain.
The roar was no longer defiant. It rang with pride and recognition for its new master.
Then it spread its enormous wings—wings so wide they blocked out the cavern mouth—and launched into the sky.
Wind whipped Logar's silver hair. He clung tight to the dragon's neck, voice shaking with pure exhilaration.
"Good, Cannibal. I understand. You're saying you like the gift I brought."
He raised his voice to the heavens.
"Since you accept me, I, Logar, swear this: one day I will make you lord of all dragons—the true King of Dragons!"
ROAR—!!
The Cannibal answered with another earth-shaking bellow, wild and triumphant, echoing across Dragonstone like a declaration to the world.
The proud king of wild dragons had finally chosen its rider.
...
"My lord…"
Alyn and the others waiting at the cave entrance stared in stunned silence as a colossal black dragon burst into the open sky—with Logar seated proudly on its back.
In the end, only Alyn found his voice. He fell to his knees, trembling with awe, and shouted at the top of his lungs:
"He… he actually did it?!"