Dragon's flame

[Dragonstone]

Viserys Targaryen stepped into the dark, foreboding cave, the weight of its silence pressing on him like a heavy cloak. His heart raced, a potent mixture of exhilaration and fear coursing through his veins. The flickering light of the torch in his hand danced across the jagged walls, casting shadows that seemed alive.

Ahead of him, lying in the deep recesses of the cavern, was a massive bronze-scaled dragon. Its body rose and fell steadily, each breath reverberating like distant thunder. Beside the mighty creature lay a smaller, equally magnificent dragon, her silver scales glinting faintly even in the dim light. Viserys recognized them instantly: Vermithor, the Bronze Fury, and his mate, Silverwing.

Taking a deep breath, Viserys stepped closer. The heat emanating from Vermithor's body was palpable, a wave of warmth that contrasted sharply with the cold dampness of the cave. He stopped a few paces away, raising his torch higher to illuminate the dragon's colossal form.

"Vermithor," Viserys called, his voice steady and firm, laced with both care and command.

The Bronze Fury opened one enormous eye, its molten gold irises narrowing as it focused on the man before it. A menacing growl rumbled deep in its chest, and with a sudden burst of power, Vermithor exhaled a stream of fire, lighting up the cave in a blinding inferno of red and orange.

Viserys didn't flinch. Instead, he took another step forward, his expression resolute. The ancient bond between dragon and rider had always been forged in moments of mutual recognition and unyielding determination. Vermithor growled again, this time louder, sensing the blood of his former rider flowing through Viserys.

As the dragon's gaze bore into him, Viserys began to sing, his voice carrying the haunting melody of an ancient Valyrian song , song of fire and blood, of unity and power:

"Āeksio Vezhof, se iā issa.

Biarves ēdruta zaldrīzoti, skoriot nyke tīmē.

Zaldrīzes, ñuha perzys ñuha gevives.

Dārys hen drōmar, kessa mazverdagon."

["Lord of Flame, hear my call.

Fury awakens dragons, where I stand proud.

Dragons, my fire, my life.

King of dreams, rise and remember."]

The melody, filled with ancient power, echoed through the cave, its haunting beauty stirring something deep within Vermithor. The dragon growled once more, a sound that resonated like a thunderclap, and then fixed Viserys with an intense glare. The great beast seemed to weigh him, testing his resolve.

After a long, tense moment, Vermithor let out a deafening roar that shook the walls of the cavern. Slowly, almost reverently, the Bronze Fury lowered his massive head.

Viserys stepped forward, his hand trembling slightly as he reached out to touch the dragon's warm, bronze scales. A deep sense of connection surged through him as the bond was sealed. Carefully, he climbed atop Vermithor's back. As he did, his body seemed to grow stronger, the ancient magic of the bond coursing through him.

With a mighty beat of his wings, Vermithor surged into the air, his roar echoing across the skies. Silverwing, ever faithful to her mate, followed close behind. Together, they soared over Dragonstone, their fiery forms visible to all who looked up.

The sight left everyone on Dragonstone stunned. Among them was Aelyx, who watched in awe. Daemon Targaryen, his face lit with pride, stood nearby. Otto Hightower's expression, however, was grim; Viserys now had a dragon, a power that no longer left him vulnerable to manipulation.

One by one, the other dragons and their riders joined them in the sky—Daemon on Caraxes, Rhaenyra on Syrax, Rhaenys on Meleys, Daenerys on vaxylis, and Aemond on Sheepstealer, aelyx on vhagar.eight mighty dragons soared over Dragonstone that day, their roars shaking the heavens.

"The Rise of Dragons," the maesters would call it in the years to come. It was the largest gathering of adult dragons in 'known' Targaryen history, a sight unmatched even during the height of Valyria.

---

[Old Ghis]

Far away, in a grand hall adorned with faded banners and ancient sigils, a group of grim-faced men sat around a massive table. At its center was a carved symbol: a sword piercing through a dragon.

"We can't control them! Out of the eighteen, only five survived!" roared a gray-haired man, slamming his fist on the table.

"It has been two centuries," added a black-haired elder, his voice tinged with frustration. "We've been attempting this since before the Doom of Valyria, and even now, we've made little progress with just one species."

A blue-haired woman, her eyes sharp and calculating, leaned forward. "The Targaryens may possess something of value—something we could use."

"They're weak," snarled a bearded giant of a man, his voice dripping with disdain. "Let's crush them and take whatever knowledge they have of blood magic."

Before anyone could respond, a deafening roar echoed from outside the hall. The men rose to their feet, alarmed, as the sound of wings filled the air. Outside, a group of dragon-like creatures circled the stronghold. These beasts, smaller and far uglier than true dragons, bore green and white scales. The largest among them, standing at 30 feet tall, let out a menacing screech that reverberated through the ancient halls.

[ Author's note ]

Hello guys! , This concludes volume one of my fan- fic

( I know this chapter is small but my exams are going on, please bear with it)

There is much to come... I won't be just staying on westores I will make creatures from different continents and myths appear

From GRR martin's Explanation in books it feels like all the cool stuff already happened, rise and fall of valyria, Bonding with dragons, Wars of valyria and much more

Stay tuned, signing out