Chapter 131: Starsong Takes Flight

Draezell watched as Starsong slowly crawled out of its lair. In his mind, he began to map out House Vaelarys's dragon-taming plan for the future. The family's greatest advantage was the ritual Draezell had designed for hatching dragons, which allowed newborns to form a deep bond with hatchlings. However, the ritual couldn't stop active dragon eggs from absorbing the magical energies of the Red Mountains and hatching on their own. Those cases were manageable — young dragons could be kept in the heated chambers of the Dragonpit tower until they matured enough to join the larger dragons in the lair. Vermithor, Silverwing, and Shadowmare would guide the younger dragons into the lair's ecosystem.

The true challenge lay in taming. Who would tame them? How should it be done? A proper system needed to be established.

"Let's begin," Draezell decided.

He raised his head and spoke in High Valyrian: "Vermithor, come." Vermithor answered with a low roar and extended its massive head, casting a shadow over the platform. Meanwhile, Starsong slowly made its way toward Rhaegor.

"Starsong, stop," Rhaegor called out, recalling the commands his father had taught him. The dragon paused, staring at him with curious eyes.

"Go ahead, Rhaegor," Aegon encouraged. "Approach the dragon and place the saddle on its back yourself."

Rhaegor nodded, glancing at the young king before taking the large saddle handed to him by the Steward, Yamor Longwing. The saddle was too heavy for Rhaegor to lift alone, so the Steward, now sporting a silver beard, helped carry it to Starsong's side.

"Starsong, stay still," Rhaegor commanded loudly, noticing the dragon's wary glance at the saddle. Though Starsong instinctively resisted the unfamiliar object, it obeyed its partner, lying down and allowing the two to secure the saddle on its back.

Once the saddle was in place, Rhaegor tugged on the straps to ensure they were tightly fastened. After calming Starsong with a few soft words, he climbed onto the saddle.

"Secure the straps," Draezell instructed firmly. This was Rhaegor's first time riding a dragon, and every precaution had to be taken.

"I understand, Father," Rhaegor replied fluently in High Valyrian. He carefully checked his safety harness, fastening the straps and hooking his riding gear to the saddle's attachment points. Finally, he grasped the silver-steel handlebar sculpted into a dragon's head — an ornate and functional design Draezell had ordered specifically for his eldest son's saddle.

"What is my brother saying? I don't understand a word," Samantha whispered, tugging on Aegon's sleeve curiously.

Aegon, still watching Rhaegor finalize the preparations and calm Starsong, patiently explained, "He's speaking High Valyrian. Until we form bonds as strong as Uncle Draezell's have with his dragon, we'll need to use High Valyrian commands. What he said just now translates to, 'Starsong, stay still.'"

"Oh." Samantha's face fell as she realized she would also need to learn the language.

"All right, prepare for takeoff," Draezell nodded, watching as Rhaegor completed his checks and lay flat on the saddle. "Rey will accompany you."

Rhaegor swallowed nervously. "Starsong, fly," he commanded after a moment of hesitation.

Starsong turned to glance at its rider before releasing a melodic roar. With a powerful beat of its wings, the dragon took to the air. Rhaegor shouted in excitement and fear as the dragon dived downward, then soared skyward, spreading its wings against the open sky.

"I'm on my way, Brother," Rey called out. After receiving Draezell's nod, he shifted his weight forward. Shadowmare roared, following the same path out of the lair and into the sky.

Watching this scene, Viserys couldn't help but sigh. Seeing no one paying attention to him, the boy pressed his lips together and headed toward the stone steps leading to the Dragonpit tower.

"Prince, where are you going?" Hofar, his golden-eyed guard, noticed him leaving.

"Hoffa, I want to check on my dragon egg," Viserys admitted honestly. He knew no other excuse would suffice.

Hofar nodded without hesitation, signaling a Silvercloak to escort the prince. Grateful, Viserys nodded back and followed the guard out of the lair.

"Ahhhh!" Rhaegor clung tightly to the saddle's handhold, pressing his body low against the dragon's back as he screamed against the rushing wind. Starsong glanced back curiously at its rider, letting out a melodic roar in response. Though the dragon flew quickly, its movements were steady, allowing Rhaegor's initial fear to gradually fade.

Daring to look down, he saw the clouds swirling beneath Starsong's body, momentarily dizzy but quickly adjusting. Summoning his courage, Rhaegor grasped the handhold and carefully began to steer the dragon's direction. Starsong obediently followed his guidance, adjusting its posture to match Rhaegor's intentions. Seeing this, Rhaegor finally cast aside his lingering fear.

Tentatively, he loosened his grip on the handhold, just about to spread his arms and shout into the wind. But his father's teachings came rushing back to him, and he hastily grabbed the handhold again.

"If you let go, big brother will thrash you when we land," Rey's voice called from below.

Startled, Rhaegor looked down to see a black dragon, almost half again the size of Starsong, flying beneath them.

"Understood, uncle," Rhaegor replied in High Valyrian.

"One more lap, then we'll head back," Rey instructed. Shadowmare roared and surged forward, soaring past Starsong in a sharp ascent before leveling off beside it. Despite his responsibilities as Rhaegor's dragon-riding mentor, Rey's day wasn't over — he still had to train Aegon and his dragon, Stormcloud. Silverwing and Vermithor were too large to assist in such training, and leaving Vermithor to guide Stormcloud in agility exercises was asking for trouble. One misstep and Stormcloud might end up as a snack.

Rhaegor nodded and spoke in High Valyrian, "Starsong, let's head back." The dragon folded its wings slightly to reduce speed, turned gracefully, and began its return to the Dragonpit.

Beyond Summerfield, in the open fields

The group from Volantis watched the dragons in the sky with a mix of expressions. None of them spoke at first, the silence only broken when Hoegen Ballerys ground his teeth and growled, "We wait for that dark green dragon to come out."

"Hoegen, I still think we should go to Dragonstone first," Ben Ulnar said, disappointed. "The dragons there are larger, and their eggs are less guarded. At worst, we could steal a few eggs."

"Steal?" Hoegen snapped, glaring at Ben. "For the dragonlord bloodline to reclaim what is rightfully ours can hardly be called stealing!"

Lataz Surlaxon chimed in with an indignant tone, "In the days of the Freehold, it was an honor for House Targaryen to supply eggs for our families."

Hoegen shot him a glare as well, muttering, "By R'hllor, how did such idiotic descendants come from such noble blood? Wait here. If Vermax fails, we leave immediately."

As they spoke, the one-horned blue dragon, Stormcloud, and Shadowmare burst from the Dragonpit, ascending sharply into the sky. Shadowmare unleashed a torrent of white-hot flame, forcing Stormcloud into a swift wing tuck to dodge the blaze. The two dragons engaged in a high-speed chase, with Shadowmare alternating between dominating Stormcloud and the smaller dragon narrowly escaping its grasp.

"Stormcloud, dodge!" Aegon yelled from his saddle. The blue dragon tilted its body, narrowly avoiding another blast of flame. Without hesitation, Aegon pulled on the saddle's handhold, signaling Stormcloud to ascend. The dragon complied, dodging Shadowmare's predatory strike by mere moments.

"Careful, Aegon! You just exposed Stormcloud's belly!" Rey shouted, circling his own dragon around the smaller one. "If this were a real battle, Shadowmare could have ripped into Stormcloud's underbelly with its claws."

Aegon broke out into a cold sweat. Rey's words rang true — had it been an actual fight, Shadowmare could have landed a devastating blow.

While the dragons continued their training in the skies, Rhaegor carefully unfastened his safety harness and slid off Starsong's back. He embraced the dragon's head affectionately before reluctantly allowing it to return to its lair.

"How was your first flight?" Draezell approached his son, smiling.

"I don't know how to describe it, Father," Rhaegor replied, his eyes shining with excitement. "I've never felt so free. It's as if my blood is on fire."

"Rhaegor, we are the children of sky, fire and blood," Draezell said with pride, gently ruffling his son's hair. "Congratulations. You've grasped the essence of being a dragonrider."

Rhaegor nodded enthusiastically, unaware that Viserys had quietly slipped away, his lips pressed into a determined line. The boy made a silent vow — no matter what it took, he would hatch his own dragon. And if that failed, he'd tame his brother's dragon instead.

As he entered the greenhouse, realization struck him.

"How could I forget about Vermax?"

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