Sorry for being a little late, I was on a train all day and the WiFi was terrible.
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The deck ignited in a ring of fire, emerald and gold, encircling me and Otherys. He stepped back instinctively, sword raised, but the flame did not burn him. It wasn't meant for him.
It was meant for me.
The Keeper raised its hand, and from the ashes rose three figures-shadows cast in flame, their shapes vaguely humanoid, but their features twisted by heat and time. They wore armor forged in Valyrian style, but it was scorched black, their eyes glowing like molten coals.
"These are the Cinders," the Keeper intoned. "Warriors who once sought to claim the ember… and failed."
The Cinders drew weapons-blades wreathed in fire that shimmered with ghostly light. The air thrummed with tension, as if the ship itself held its breath.
Otherys moved to step forward, but the flames flared between us.
"No," I said. "This is mine to face."
The first Cinder charged.
It moved like a blur, its sword a flaming arc aimed at my head. I ducked low, twisting with practiced reflex, drawing my blade. Valyrian steel hissed as it met the fire-blade, and for a moment, both powers clashed-neither giving way.
I could feel the heat-biting, ancient, full of rage.
The second came from behind.
I rolled aside, using the momentum to bring my sword up into a slash. It passed through the shadow's leg-but the Cinder didn't fall. It turned, molten eyes locked onto mine.
They weren't bound by flesh. They were bound by purpose.
The third Cinder raised both hands and from its palms erupted fire-not just heat, but force. I was flung across the deck, crashing against the broken mast. My ribs screamed in pain, but I pushed myself up.
"Prove your right," the Keeper said again. "Or be consumed."
My fingers brushed the egg.
Its warmth answered. I felt it surge up my arm, through my veins. Not just warmth-will. The whisper of something ancient. Not words, but instinct.
The runes. The Old Tongue.
I stood tall and raised my left hand, invoking the sigils I had seen deep within the Vault of Embers.
"Zaldrīzoti iā skorī demalyti."
(Dragons or shadows-only fire may rule.)
The egg flared in response, and my body was wreathed in light-crimson and silver fire, coiling like a serpent. The next attack came-this time I didn't dodge.
I caught the Cinder's sword with my bare hand.
It should've burned me to ash. Instead, it melted around my fingers.
The Cinders hesitated.
And that was enough.
With a roar, I charged-no longer with fear, but with the flame of something older than death. Each strike of my sword was guided not by strength, but by legacy. The first Cinder fell, its body erupting in embers. The second shrieked as fire burst from within it. The third tried to flee-but the egg pulsed, and a gout of silver flame shot from my palm, searing the creature to cinders.
Silence.
The flames around the deck died.
Only smoke and ash remained.
The Keeper stepped forward, head bowed slightly.
"You are chosen."
The egg floated from my hip and hovered in front of me. Cracks formed across its crimson shell, light bleeding through. I stepped forward, heart pounding.
The first breath was mine to witness.
The egg split-and from it emerged a creature unlike any I had seen.
Sleek and serpentine, with scales of dark silver and deep crimson, and eyes glowing molten gold. It uncoiled slowly, elegant and powerful, backward-curving horns gleaming in the moonlight.
The dragon-my dragon-looked at me.
And I heard its voice in my mind.
"Xyron."
It was not a greeting.
It was a bond.
A name.
And a promise.
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(If you have any name suggestions please comment them here as I suck at names)
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The deck was silent as the newly hatched dragon stood before me, steam rising from its scaled body. Xyron-named not by me, but by some ancient instinct that echoed through both our minds-stretched its wings for the first time. The membranes shimmered with heat, catching the light like sheets of forged silver and blood.
Otherys lowered his sword slowly, his eyes wide with awe and disbelief. "Gods," he whispered, "you did it…"
Xyron turned its head toward him, sniffing the air. For a heartbeat, I worried the dragon might strike, but instead it snorted softly and returned its gaze to me, as if to say, He's not important- you are.
I reached out again, placing my hand atop Xyron's warm head. The bond was growing stronger-emotions passed between us like sparks: curiosity, hunger, and something deeper… loyalty.
The Keeper stood motionless at the edge of the deck, a wraith framed in fading firelight. "The dragon has chosen. The legacy stirs." It raised one hand. "But your path is not yet set in stone. Power untested is power wasted. Flame unshaped is wild and ruinous."
Xyron growled lowly, its body coiling protectively around me.
"You will return," the Keeper said. "When the stars align. When the fire calls. And when you are ready to claim more."
With that, the figure dissolved into ashes that blew away on the sea wind.
The last of the fire faded, and for the first time, I noticed the crew on the ship nearby-all staring. Some fell to their knees. Others wept or muttered prayers in tongues long forgotten. They had seen the impossible. A dragon… reborn from the ashes of Valyria.
Xyron leapt onto the edge of the deck, testing his wings. He looked back at me, eyes gleaming, and I felt it-a pull. An invitation.
Fly with me.
"Can he-?" Otherys began, but stopped. I was already moving.
I climbed onto Xyron's back. His scales were still hot, but not burning. I gripped the bony ridges near his neck, and he adjusted instinctively to brace my weight. He leapt.
We soared into the sky, wings beating hard, slicing through the air like blades.
Below, the Smoking Sea stretched out, still and black. The ruins of Valyria faded into the distance. Clouds parted as we broke above them, the horizon a smear of dying light.
Flying wasn't like riding a horse. It wasn't even like sailing. It was freedom-wild and terrifying and utterly intoxicating. Each beat of Xyron's wings felt like thunder in my chest. Each breath we shared crackled with the fire of something ancient.
And through it all, I could feel him-not just physically, but within me. Our thoughts began to align. Our instincts blurred. We were not rider and beast. We were a single force, newly forged.
When we finally circled back to the ship, landing on the charred deck with a heavy thud, silence greeted us. The crew stared, their fear warring with awe.
Otherys approached, cautious but no longer stunned. "You've changed," he said quietly.
I nodded. "So has everything else."
Xyron curled beside me, wings folding. His eyes never left the horizon.
The fire had awakened.
The world would feel it soon.
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And For TheBurningWorld, I will try to do an extra chapter per week starting today, enjoy.