novellaaa Chapter 8 The Dragon Was Discovered
Chapter 8 The Dragon Was Discovered
Viserys? Daenerys?
Will's heart skipped a beat.
These two names...
Combined with her silver-gold hair and purple eyes...
Add to that their current desperate situation as fugitives...
Viserys Targaryen, the last surviving member of House Targaryen and the exiled "Beggar King," and his sister, Daenerys Targaryen, "Stormborn."
Long summer...
Indeed, before Daenerys married Khal Drogo and obtained the dragon eggs, she and her brother were indeed wandering between the free cities, suffering scorn and bullying, and surviving by selling the last of their mother's jewels and the charity of kind people.
To my surprise, we encountered them here, on the edge of the desolate swamps of Braavos.
Will instinctively hugged Shadowflame tighter in his arms.
Xiao Long seemed to sense something as well. He didn't make a sound, but his dark golden vertical pupils were fixed on the two uninvited guests who had suddenly barged in, especially the girl with silver-gold hair.
Yingyan's reaction was somewhat strange; it wasn't pure hostility, but more like curiosity.
Even a faint, indescribable attraction?
On the field, Viserys was enraged by his sister's defiance.
A sickly flush rose on his pale cheeks, and his pale purple eyes were filled with an enraged fury: "Give it to me! I am your king! Your brother! Everything you have is mine! Including you! Without me, you are nothing! Don't forget who brought you out of prison, who protected you!"
He stepped forward, this time with even greater force, grabbing Daenerys's wrist with one hand and roughly snatching the cloth bag from her arms with the other.
The cloth bag was torn open, revealing a dim reflection that looked like metal or a gemstone.
"Let me go! Viserys!" Daenerys cried out in pain, struggling desperately, but the difference in strength was too great.
Tears welled in her eyes, not from weakness, but from humiliation and despair. "What we need isn't wine! It's food! Something to keep us alive! Governor Illyrio's aid is nowhere in sight; we can't afford to waste any more!"
"Shut up! You foolish little girl! What do you know?!" Viserys screamed hysterically. "I am a true dragon! True dragons do not eat charity! We need dignity! We need to show those who look down on us that the Targaryens have not fallen so low as to eat mud!"
His fingers had already grasped something in the cloth bag—it appeared to be a hairpin inlaid with dull gemstones, possibly one of the heirlooms left by their mother, Queen Leila.
In the midst of the chaos of the struggle, Daenerys tripped over a muddy tree root, cried out in surprise, and fell backward.
Caught off guard, Viserys was also thrown off balance, the hairpin in his hand flying out and tracing a dim arc in the air before landing in a murky puddle not far away.
"No!" Daenerys cried out.
Viserys was stunned, watching the object that symbolized the last vestige of the family's glory disappear into the mud.
A brief silence.
Then, Viserys's face turned from red to green, from green to white, and finally into a terrifying, ferocious expression.
He turned his head sharply and looked at his sister, who had fallen to the ground and was covered in mud. All the frustration, fear, and resentment accumulated during his long exile seemed to find an outlet at this moment.
"It's all your fault! You clumsy idiot! Spendthrift!" he roared, raising his foot to kick Daenerys, who was lying on the ground!
Daenerys's purple eyes widened in horror, and she instinctively curled up.
Just then—
"Hiss—roar!"
A sharp, inhuman roar, full of warning and intimidation, rang out from the shadow of a dead tree beside the reeds!
The voice wasn't loud, but it carried a chilling majesty that pierced the soul, belonging to a higher level of predator.
The air itself seemed to tremble.
Viserys' raised foot froze in mid-air, and the ferocity on his face was instantly replaced by horror.
He turned his head sharply to look at the source of the sound.
Daenerys forgot her fear and stared in astonishment with her purple eyes.
A thin, dirty boy dressed in tattered clothes emerged from behind the withered tree.
He was holding something wrapped in a tattered gray cloth, but now, a head covered with fine black scales, dark red patterns, and tiny bone spurs peeked out from within the cloth.
A pair of cold, dark gold eyes with vertical pupils were fixed on Viserys without any emotion.
In the center of those eyes, a tiny, dark red spark burned eerily.
What nearly froze Viserys and Daenerys's blood was—
The black head slightly opened its mouth, revealing fine, sharp white fangs, and deep in its throat, a dark red light faintly gathered.
Immediately afterwards, a straight, arm-length, dark red-orange scorching stream of air, like a living, fiery arrow, carrying a distinct sulfurous smell and a high temperature that distorted the air, shot precisely at the mud less than half a foot in front of Viserys' feet!
"laugh--!"
The mud was instantly evaporated and melted, leaving a small patch of charred, smoky residue.
A scorching wave of air hit him, causing Viserys to scream and jump back, his face burning painfully.
The world seemed to stand still.
Viserys stood frozen in place, his face ashen, his pale purple eyes almost bulging out of their sockets as he stared intently at the creature in Will's arms.
His lips trembled as he tried to say something, but only made a gurgling sound—the sound of his throat bones grinding together in extreme fear.
The arrogance of the true dragon and the resentment of its exile were crushed before this real, supernatural breath of fire.
Only one thought swirled wildly in his mind:
A dragon? That's... a dragon? How is that possible?! Dragons are extinct! Except for...
Daenerys was stunned, even forgetting to get out of the mud.
She tilted her head back, her purple eyes fixed on Shadowflame in Will's arms, her gaze filled with unbelievable shock, bewilderment, and a deep-seated throbbing that she herself was unaware of.
The silver-gold hair clung to her mud-covered cheeks, trembling slightly.
She looked at the black scales, the dark gold vertical pupils, the mouth that was not yet fully closed, with a faint dark red light shimmering between the teeth, and the outline of the small wings covered with black membrane peeking out from the gaps in the tattered cloth.
dragon……
The air still carried the faint scent of sulfur and the smell of burnt mud.
After exhaling that warning breath, Shadowflame seemed to have expended a lot of energy, panting slightly. His dark gold vertical pupils remained coldly locked on Viserys, but the obvious hostility had subsided slightly, replaced by a scrutinizing gaze as he swept over the dazed Daenerys.
Will carried Shadowflame and walked forward step by step.
His steps were steady, and his small body seemed to carry a tremendous weight at this moment.
He walked to the hairpin that had fallen to the edge of the puddle and was covered in mud, bent down, and picked it up with his free hand.
The gemstones were dull, and the gold ornaments were covered in dust.
Without even glancing at Viserys, who was trembling like a leaf, he walked straight to Daenerys, who was still sitting on the ground, and stopped.
Then he reached out and handed the hairpin to Daenerys.
Muddy fingers gripped a dusty gold hairpin.
A boy in tattered clothes, holding a baby dragon.
Together with the disheveled yet undeniably extraordinary silver-haired girl before him, they created a strange and compelling scene.
Daenerys looked up in a daze, her purple eyes shifting from Shadowflame to Will's face, and then to the hairpin.
Her mud-covered fingers trembled slightly as she reached out, but she didn't immediately take it.
Will simply watched her calmly and waited.
After a long while, Daenerys finally carefully pinched the cool handle of the hairpin with her fingertips.
Her gaze shifted again to Shadowflame in Will's arms, her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but ultimately no sound came out.
Only deep within those purple eyes surged a complex mix of emotions—shock, bewilderment, a primal sense of closeness, and a deep-seated longing that even she herself was not fully aware of.
Will withdrew his hand and took half a step back.
He glanced down at Yingyan in his arms, and Xiaolong was also looking up at him, the spark in his dark golden vertical pupils flickering slightly.
Then, Will turned around, carrying Shadowflame, and walked steadily into the deeper part of the swamp, quickly disappearing behind the dense reeds as if he had never been there.
Viserys was left slumped on the ground, utterly disoriented, while Daenerys, clutching her hairpin, stared blankly in the direction they had disappeared.
The winds of the swamp carried a damp, fishy smell, but could not dispel the lingering, unsettling odor of sulfur in the air, nor the ancient echoes of fire and wings that were deeply ingrained in one's blood.