Game of Thrones: The King of Bronze and Fire

"Roar!"

Silverwing tilted her head to the side, her massive body rising slowly. Spreading her silver wings, she took on an aggressive stance.

Aemon, standing firm, issued another command in High Valyrian. His tone was one of absolute authority, brooking no defiance.

But the commanding attitude only seemed to provoke the dragon's rebellious nature.

Aemon's face remained resolute as he repeated firmly, "Stand down, Silverwing!"

Newly awakened dragons were often filled with a surging anger. To calm them, one had to stand their ground without fear.

"Skreee!"

Silverwing's icy, slitted eyes narrowed as she let out a furious roar, her maw opening to gather dragonfire.

Aemon found himself face-to-face with the brewing flames. He could see the swirling vortex of orange and silver-gray fire forming within the depths of her throat.

"No! No dragonfire!"

Aemon's voice thundered through the cavern, rising above the dragon's growl with fervor.

"Roar?"

Silverwing paused, tilting her head slightly. Her nostrils flared, sniffing the air as if something had piqued her curiosity—a familiar scent.

The scent of her mate, of her offspring, and even the sweet, familial essence of her former rider's bloodline.

Hesitating for a moment, the dragon swallowed her gathering flames.

"Don't be afraid, Silverwing," Aemon said, holding his hand aloft as he cautiously stepped forward. "Come with me, see the skies outside."

"Roar…"

Silverwing blinked, her long neck extending as she slowly lowered her massive head toward the silver-haired boy.

Her movements were deliberate, and her demeanor seemed... almost amicable.

Aemon smiled and quickened his steps.

"Skreee!"

But in an instant, Silverwing's demeanor shifted. With an abrupt motion, she butted him hard in the chest with her snout, sending him flying through the air.

The arrogant human dared to awaken her from her slumber? Let him learn his place.

Thud!

Aemon hit the rocky ground hard, his world spinning as darkness briefly overtook his vision.

"Cough... cough…"

His head buzzed, and it took a moment for him to steady his breathing. Slowly, he pushed himself upright.

"Damn, she hits hard," Aemon muttered, shaking his head to clear his dizziness.

Thanks to his Stone-Solid Resilience, he escaped with only bruises. Without it, the blow could have been fatal.

"Roar?"

Silverwing's icy eyes widened as she watched the young man rise. Lowering her head almost to the ground, she gazed at him with a newfound curiosity.

For a moment, she looked like a cat studying a strange object.

"Are you satisfied now?" Aemon chuckled dryly as he took a cautious step forward.

Dragons, especially adult ones, did not tolerate disrespect.

The rumors that Silverwing was gentle and would accept any rider were clearly false. During the Dance of the Dragons, she and Vermithor had killed dozens of their kind.

Silverwing was no docile creature—she was a proud and formidable dragon.

"Roar!"

The dragon nudged him again with her snout, this time softer but persistent.

Aemon remained where he was, letting her examine him.

Ding!

A familiar sound echoed in his mind.

"You have encountered a magical being. Magic essence acquired: +100."

Smiling, Aemon pulled up his personal stats.

Aemon Targaryen

Talents: Dreamer (Gold)

Bloodline: Ancient Valyrian Dragonlord (41.5%)

Skills: Leashing Spells (Mastery), Archery (Sharpshooter), Sleight of Hand (Skilled)...

Magic Cards: Strengthened Body (Blue), Stone-Solid Resilience—Intermediate (Purple), Regal Presence (Purple)

Equipment: Twin Valyrian Daggers, Sapphire Amulet (2/3)

Companions: Goldnose Mouse (Blue), White Stag (Sacred Beast)

Evaluation: "With steadily increasing bloodline purity, advanced dragonriding techniques can now be studied."

"Thump!"

Silverwing nudged him three times in quick succession, sending him sprawling to the ground once more.

Lying on his back, Aemon laughed softly. The 100 essence points and the 5% increase in his bloodline purity made the trip worthwhile already.

When no further jostling came, Aemon turned his head to glance at the dragon.

She had lowered her head, watching him carefully. Her body lay flat on the ground, and her ebony saddle was clearly visible.

She had accepted him.

"Let's go, Silverwing," Aemon said as he turned to leave, not attempting to mount her.

Silverwing tilted her head in confusion but followed him instinctively.

Boom!

Her silver wings unfolded as she stretched, gleaming like polished metal. At over 50 meters in length, she rivaled second- and third-generation dragons such as Dreamfyre and Meleys.

She moved with a grace that combined beauty and power.

Outside the cave, Vermithor waited, his bronze scales glinting in the sunlight.

"Look who I've brought out!" Aemon called as he stepped through the mud, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Roar!"

Vermithor's amber eyes narrowed as he glanced at his rider, then toward the cave's shadowy depths.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The ground quaked as Silverwing emerged, her massive head and graceful wings catching the light.

Vermithor's body tensed, his bronze scales rising as he let out a low growl.

For her part, Silverwing remained composed, her icy gaze unfazed by his reaction.

"Let's go for a flight," Aemon said, scaling Vermithor's side and climbing into the saddle.

With a powerful leap, Vermithor shot into the sky.

Silverwing hesitated for a moment before following.

The two dragons soared high, weaving through the clouds.

"Dragonfire!"

At Aemon's command, Vermithor unleashed a torrent of molten bronze flames, slicing through the dense clouds.

"Skreee!"

Not to be outdone, Silverwing let loose a swirling vortex of silvery fire, her body darting through the air with agility.

Dragonstone, Base of Dragonmont

While Aemon and the dragons flew high above, a gaunt brown dragon crouched in the shadows.

Known as the Sheep Thief, this wild dragon was infamous for its hideous appearance and habit of stealing livestock from the islanders.

Hearing the roars above, it perked up, its long, leathery wings trembling as it craned its neck toward the sky.

"Skreee?"

With a faint growl, it began climbing toward the mountain's higher ridges, curious about the commotion.

It wasn't the only one stirred.

Deep within the mountain, a massive, coal-black dragon stirred from its slumber.

Crack. Crack.

The sound of talons grinding against stone echoed through the cavern as it moved.

This dragon's malevolent green eyes gleamed with cunning, hunger, and bloodlust.

A shadow passed over the mountainside as the black dragon slithered forward, its nostrils flaring as it searched for prey.

Above the bay, Aemon and his dragons continued their aerial display.

Little did he know, Dragonmont's wild dragons had taken notice, and a clash of titans loomed on the horizon.