Game of Thrones: Second Son of House Targaryen

Chapter 243: Fire and Blood



The banner of the three-headed dragon fluttered in the still air as Viserys began to speak, his voice resonating through the hall.

“My lords, Magisters, Princes, Sers, we are the proud remnants of Valyria. The people of Valyria once ruled vast lands and endless skies with magic and dragons. But centuries ago, we lost our homeland forever, and over a hundred years ago, the dragons that symbolized the last of Valyria's pride also vanished.

"Ambitious Dothraki leaders have led their ignorant hordes to wreak havoc on this land. To protect our people from the slaughter of their arakhs, we have repeatedly fed their insatiable hunger for gold, silver, and grain. But I, Viserys Targaryen, a descendant of the Dragonlords, have grown weary of it!"

Viserys's speech served as a declaration of the war’s purpose. As the victor, history would be written in his favor. His words stirred the old commanders, Alios and Nyessos, filling them with an intense, almost ecstatic pride. Even Braavos, known as the ‘Bastard Daughter of Valyria,’ felt a sense of honor, despite its founding by slaves who had escaped Valyrian exploitation.

But for men like Kambron, no amount of eloquence could distract them from the danger beneath their feet—a hundred pounds of wildfire, ready to ignite. They had to escape before it was too late. Kambron’s eyes lingered on the candle next to King Viserys's throne; it was their ‘timer.’ He, Tregar, and the others needed to be far from the throne room—and out of Tyrosh's palace—before that candle burned halfway down.

“Everyone, this victory is a victory for all of us—a Valyrian victory!” Viserys declared, his voice rising with fervor yet remaining steady. Benerro noticed the calm resolve in Viserys’s tone. 'Have you accepted your fate, Viserys? Good,' he thought.

With the speech concluded, the banquet officially began. Kambron and his co-conspirators exchanged brief words with the other guests before slipping away, one by one. As Kambron glanced back at the Throne Hall, he saw Viserys and Daenerys basking in the crowd’s adulation. 'Even if this place becomes a ruin, I will retake it!' he vowed.

Benerro, seeing Kambron and the others leave, knew it was time for him to go as well. He exchanged a knowing glance with Viserys before disappearing through the door.

One by one, the powerful figures in the Throne Hall were quietly led away—not just the members of Viserys’s inner circle but also the other nobles. Viserys couldn’t allow them to perish here.

Half an hour later, the Throne Hall, once filled with the most influential people, was now nearly empty, leaving only Viserys and Daenerys. The two placed the long-prepared dragon eggs on the ground and exchanged smiles.

“Brother, seven dragon eggs! Do you think we can hatch them all?” Dany asked excitedly.

“I don’t know,” Viserys replied with a teasing tone, “let’s hatch one at a time.”

Dany suddenly grew solemn, burying her head in Viserys’s arms. “Brother, you’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course. My fire magic is even stronger than Benerro’s,” Viserys reassured her, though Dany didn’t seem convinced. Tears welled up in her violet eyes.

“Brother, Benerro already sent someone to tell me. He said you’re Nissa Nissa, the dragons are the envoys of the Lord of Light…”

“That’s wonderful! Then you must be Azor Ahai. How about we name our dragons Viserys the First, Viserys the Second, and Viserys the Third?”

Viserys’ usual jest, meant to bring laughter, fell flat this time. In truth, Viserys wasn’t sure if the power he had accumulated would be enough or if it would help at all. 'What if being “Nissa Nissa” means I have to die?' he wondered.

The two siblings sat on the steps in front of the throne, just as they had sat on the steps in the courtyard when they were about to leave Braavos. Dany rested her head on his lap, the hall now illuminated only by moonlight. The one thing Viserys couldn’t bear to leave behind was Dany.

“Remember to kill that bastard,” Viserys muttered darkly. As he and Dany sat together in the Throne Room, he silently prayed, 'I really don’t want to die. System, bless me. These attribute points I’ve worked so hard to accumulate must be useful!'

Meanwhile, Kambron, Tregar, and Cassius stood on the rooftop, their eyes fixed on the palace's defenses. Every second stretched into an eternity. The three men were as still as statues, not exchanging a single word.

“Viserys, you're going to die soon!” Kambron hissed, his gaze locked on the palace clock tower, his eyes filled with a fury that bordered on madness. The hundreds of pounds of wildfire did not disappoint. Green flames erupted, lighting up half the sky and casting an eerie glow on their faces, like ghostly flames dancing in a graveyard.

“Haha! Viserys! Die!” Kambron roared, his voice filled with savage glee. The other two joined in, their laughter twisted by the inferno. A wildfire at Summerhall a hundred years ago had nearly wiped out the Targaryen line. Now, they had done it again, and the satisfaction was beyond words.

Inside, Nyessos was in the middle of drafting a treaty when he noticed a strange green glow. “Eh?” He glanced down at his work, then quickly realized the light was coming from outside.

“It’s—it’s the Throne Room! Viserys—Viserys—” Alios stammered, his voice faltering in shock. The document Nyessos had just been working on slipped from his hands, fluttering to the ground like an autumn leaf. Moments ago, they had been irritated that Viserys’s men had dragged them out for a drink. Now, they were overwhelmed with relief...

Roth and Methys, who had also been nearly forced out of the palace, had sensed something was amiss long before. Their close relationship with Viserys had earned them the first spots in the evacuation. When Roth left, the Throne Hall was still packed with people, and Viserys and Dany were still inside.

The green flames consuming the Throne Hall were undoubtedly part of a conspiracy. “Is it over for the Targaryens?” someone whispered.

“Brother, will the Prince and the others be okay?” Shinelli clutched Feles’s hand, her voice trembling with worry.

“No, that’s Prince Viserys!” Feles replied, though his voice betrayed his uncertainty. He had seen Viserys in the Throne Room before they left. Despite his reassurances, it was wildfire—a force he knew all too well as a Lysene. 'Could anyone survive such a blaze, let alone hatch dragons in the midst of it?'

“The late king blesses the Prince, the late king blesses the Princess!” Connington murmured desperately, his fingers digging into the window frame as he watched the wildfire rage and explode. If Viserys failed, the blame would fall squarely on Connington. He had been unable to dissuade Viserys from this reckless venture, and now, once again, he feared he had doomed the Targaryens.

The faces of the old captain, Dick, Jorah, Webber, Regis, Conwyra, and Shiera were all illuminated by the sickly green light. They were all anxious, knowing that without Viserys, they might plunge into civil war, with old comrades turning against one another. Even the usually carefree Regis was sweating profusely.

Meanwhile, inside the Throne Room, Dany clutched all seven dragon eggs tightly, the green flames licking at her and Viserys. Having already tasted wildfire before, Dany felt no discomfort, but Viserys, seated cross-legged opposite her, was in visible agony. She could smell the acrid scent of burning flesh emanating from him. Every inch of Viserys's body trembled with pain.

“Don’t touch me! Protect the dragon eggs!” Viserys snapped, his tone sharp as he noticed Dany reaching out toward him. Her hand stopped midway, then quickly withdrew.

Viserys opened his status panel, watching in alarm as his Health value plummeted. In less than a minute, it had dropped from 100 to single digits. He frantically allocated free attribute points, but no matter how fast he clicked, his Health fluctuated dangerously between 20 and 30.

'Fire! Use gentle fire!' Viserys thought, recalling a dark joke from his previous life. The irony of his situation struck him hard.

After what felt like an eternity, Dany suddenly noticed something strange—one of the dragon eggs in her arms was rattling. “Brother! The dragon egg…” she began, but then her eyes widened in horror. Wisps of red smoke were rising from Viserys’s body, drifting toward the egg she cradled. The smoke was being absorbed by the cracks in the shell.

Click, click, click…

The cracks in the dragon egg greedily devoured the red smoke from Viserys, growing wider with every moment. Dany felt an inexplicable connection with the egg, as if it were drawing energy from both her and Viserys.

Crack!

The first young dragon’s head broke through the shell. Dany peered into the egg, relieved to see the tiny dragon had only one head, though its body was still forming, piece by piece.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

A series of cracks echoed as the young dragon continued to emerge. But then Dany’s relief turned to horror as she realized that some of the tiny heads within the egg were devouring their weaker ‘brothers.’ She wanted to share the news with Viserys, but when she turned to him, she froze in shock. His body was completely encased in a layer of darkened ash, his human form barely recognizable.

Tears welled up in Dany’s eyes, but they were immediately dried by the intense heat of the surrounding flames. She realized, with a sinking heart, that no more red smoke was coming from Viserys’s body.

At that moment, a sharp cry pierced the air—the first cry of a young dragon in a hundred years. As Dany held the dragon egg, she noticed the green flames around her were converging, pouring into her arms. The bodies of the seven young dragons were forming rapidly, their shapes becoming more defined with every passing second.

"Fire and blood... so the body of the dragon is forged from flames," Dany murmured, watching in awe as the young dragons, no longer needing her to cradle the eggs, began to climb all over her. A mix of surprise and sorrow filled her heart.

Silver dragon, yellow dragon, black dragon, red dragon, green dragon, blue dragon... Some of the restless hatchlings even tried to steal the eggshells of their siblings after devouring their own. Hah hah hah—

Dany noticed that among the seven young dragons, the bright yellow one appeared slightly larger than the others. She guessed it had absorbed the most blood from Viserys. Excluding the bright yellow dragon, the size of the hatchlings seemed to correspond with the order in which Viserys had obtained the eggs. The green dragon, hatched from the blue egg acquired in Braavos, was the second largest.

Next were the three dragons hatched from the eggs gifted by Illyrio. The smallest were the red and blue dragons, each about two inches shorter than their siblings. Yet, each dragon was roughly the size of a kitten.

“Brother! Brother!” Dany called out several times, but there was no response. She realized that although Viserys had mastered fire and had an exceptional resistance to heat, even he could not withstand the fury of wildfire.

“Brother, the dragons have hatched,” Dany whispered, her voice tinged with both grief and determination. She felt an unexpected surge of power, as if her mastery over fire magic had grown. Viserys's form was still recognizable, but he looked as though he had weathered centuries, his features worn away, leaving only a charred shell devoid of life.

Dany suddenly understood that the young dragons’ absorption of the flames had caused the wildfire to diminish. She could faintly hear the sounds of people battling the fire outside. Her clothes had been entirely consumed by the flames, and the seven young dragons clung to her, shielding her like a living, vibrant armor of scales.

With one final look at Viserys, Dany waved her hand, and the wildfire around her began to solidify at her feet. A staircase of yellow-green flames started to take shape, leading upwards.

“Brother, I will announce the arrival of the dragons to the world!” she declared.

Ten feet... twenty feet... fifty...

This extraordinary sight naturally caught the attention of those nearby. A staircase of flames rising from the midst of the fire? It was almost beyond belief. However, Connington and the others, familiar with the Moonsingers' teachings and fire magic, knew that Viserys must have succeeded. He was the only one capable of performing such advanced fire magic!

Soon, Regis, the old captain, and others rushed to witness the scene. Nobles from other Free Cities quickly gathered as well, drawn by the spectacle.

Then, at the top of the flaming staircase, a silver-haired maiden appeared, her presence commanding the awe of all who gazed upon her.

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