The Swift Current made good progress along the coast of Essos, Darro's skill as a captain evident in how he navigated currents and wind patterns to maximize our speed. By the fifth day of our journey, he announced that we would reach Duskendale within two more days, and King's Landing in another three if the weather permitted.
"From there," he explained as we stood at the bow, watching the coastline slip by, "it's a short journey inland to the Red Keep by horse."
I nodded, though my mind was elsewhere. Throughout our voyage, I'd been increasingly aware of a problem that would face us once we reached Westeros—how to explain my unusual abilities and appearance without causing alarm or suspicion. The Cannibal and I needed a strategy before we arrived.
That evening, while the ship anchored in a sheltered cove for the night, I climbed onto a rocky outcropping near the shore where the Cannibal had settled. The massive dragon watched me approach, those eerie yellow eyes reflecting the last light of sunset.
"We need to talk," I said, settling cross-legged on a flat stone near his head. "About how we're going to present ourselves when we reach Westeros."
"PRESENT OURSELVES?" The Cannibal's mental voice carried a note of amusement. "I AM A DRAGON, ICHIGO KUROSAKI. I DO NOT 'PRESENT' MYSELF TO HUMANS."
"That's exactly the kind of attitude that's going to cause problems," I sighed. "Look, from what Darro has told us, these Targaryens take dragon-related matters very seriously. If we just show up with me obviously riding you and talking about Soul Reapers and different dimensions, they're going to think we're either insane or a threat."
The Cannibal was silent for a moment, considering. "WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE?"
"We need a simpler story. Something they can understand that doesn't reveal everything about me or where I'm really from." I thought for a moment. "How about this: I'm a traveler from far beyond the Smoking Sea, from lands they've never heard of. I was shipwrecked on Valyria's shores. We encountered each other, and for reasons of your own, you chose to form a bond with me."
"SIMPLISTIC, BUT NOT ENTIRELY UNTRUE," the dragon conceded. "AND WHAT OF YOUR POWERS? YOUR BLADE? THESE WILL RAISE QUESTIONS."
He had a point. Zangetsu wasn't exactly a normal sword, and if I got into any serious fights, hiding my spiritual powers would be difficult.
"I could say I'm from a warrior culture with our own fighting techniques," I suggested. "That my sword is a family heirloom with special properties. They already believe in magic here—they have dragons, after all—so some level of unusual ability shouldn't seem impossible."
"AND IF THEY PRESS FOR DETAILS?"
"Then we keep it vague. Mysterious, but not threatening." I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated by the complications. "The key is to seem interesting enough that they'll grant us access to their libraries, but not so unusual that they see us as a danger."
The Cannibal made that rumbling sound that passed for draconic laughter. "YOU ASK ME TO PLAY THE TAMED BEAST, THEN."
"Not tamed," I corrected. "Just... diplomatic. We have a mutual goal here—I want to find a way home, and you want..."
I realized I still wasn't entirely clear on what the Cannibal hoped to gain from our partnership, beyond satisfying his curiosity.
"I SEEK KNOWLEDGE AS WELL," he supplied, sensing my uncertainty. "THE TARGARYENS POSSESS FRAGMENTS OF OLD WISDOM THAT INTEREST ME. AND THERE IS THE MATTER OF THE APPROACHING DARKNESS."
"The Long Night you mentioned?" I asked. "You still haven't explained what that is."
"ALL IN DUE TIME, ICHIGO KUROSAKI." The great dragon shifted his weight, scales scraping against stone. "YOUR PLAN HAS MERIT. WE SHALL PRESENT A SIMPLIFIED VERSION OF OUR TRUTH. BUT KNOW THIS—I WILL NOT COWER OR SIMPER BEFORE THESE SHADOW-DRAGONS AND THEIR RIDERS. I AM THE CANNIBAL, LAST OF THE TRUE DRAGONS OF OLD VALYRIA."
***********
The morning sun cast long shadows across King's Landing as we approached from the east. After ten days of sailing with Darro and his crew, the capital of Westeros finally rose before us, sprawled across its hills between the Blackwater Rush and the sea. Even from this distance, I could make out the massive red structure dominating the tallest hill—the Red Keep, home of the Targaryen dynasty.
"It's... bigger than I expected," I said, standing at the bow of the Swift Current beside Darro.
The young captain nodded. "The largest city in the Seven Kingdoms. Near half a million souls, they say."
Half a million people. Smaller than Karakura Town, but still impressive for a medieval city. As we drew closer, more details emerged—the great dome of the Dragonpit crowning Rhaenys's Hill, the towering sept with its crystal towers, and the maze of streets and buildings stretching between them, from the prosperous districts near the Red Keep to the slums of Flea Bottom.
And the smell. Even before we'd fully entered Blackwater Bay, the stench hit me like a physical force.
"Uurkh—what is that?" I gagged, covering my nose.
Darro laughed. "I warned you. Half a million people, remember? And most don't have proper sewers."
I'd smelled death and destruction and Hollow rot, but this... this was something else. The reek of human waste, rotting garbage, tanneries, and who knows what else, all baking under the summer sun.
As the Swift Current navigated toward the harbor, I saw Darro's expression grow troubled. "Something's wrong," he said, gesturing toward the docks.
I followed his gaze and saw what had alarmed him. The harbor was in chaos. Ships were leaving their moorings, some half-loaded with cargo. Harbor workers ran in all directions, pointing skyward.
"What's happening?" I asked, scanning the skies. Then I felt it—the familiar surge of draconic presence that could only mean one thing.
"Dragon…" Darro whispered, his eyes wide with shock and nerves.
High above King's Landing, a pale yellow shape circled the Dragonpit. Not the Cannibal—this dragon was smaller, more lithe, with cream-colored scales that caught the morning daylight. And it was clearly agitated, screeching and diving in quick, nervous patterns.
"That's not mine," I said to Darro, who'd already backed away from me with wide eyes. "Seriously, what did you guys expect? You said they have dragons too—it's not like I brought something completely new to town."
Darro just stared at me like I'd grown a second head. During our journey, he'd gotten somewhat used to the Cannibal's distant presence following our ship, but seeing another dragon in action seemed to be short-circuiting his brain.
I rolled my eyes and closed them, focusing on the mental link with my giant, scaly problem-maker.
"Old man, Cannibal! What's the deal? Do you know that dragon?"
A pause, then: "THE LITTLE ONE SENSES ME. DRAGONS FEEL THE PRESENCE OF OTHERS OF THEIR KIND, ESPECIALLY ONE AS POWERFUL AS MYSELF." There was unmistakable pride in his mental voice. "SHE IS YOUNG. AFRAID. HER NAME IS SYRAX."
"Where are you?"
"APPROACHING FROM THE NORTH. I GROW TIRED OF THIS GAME OF HIDING."
I felt a headache coming when I sensed the Cannibal's decision solidified. He was done waiting.
This wasn't what we agreed on!
With a mental sigh, I turned to Darro, who was still staring at Syrax as the yellow dragon continued her agitated circles.
"Change of plans," I said grimly. "Things are about to get complicated. Get your ship to safety."
"What are you going to do?" Darro asked, his voice barely audible over the growing commotion at the harbor.
I gave him a tight smile. "Improvise."
With that, I leapt from the bow of the Swift Current, channeling my reiatsu to flash-step across the water toward the shoreline. I heard Darro shouting behind me, but there was no time to explain. The Cannibal had made his choice, and now I had to deal with the consequences.
Landing on a deserted section of the harbor, I quickly made my way through increasingly confused crowds. People pointed skyward, some fleeing, others frozen in place. City watchmen in gold cloaks attempted to maintain order, but they too kept glancing nervously at the sky.
I reached a relatively open square just as a tremendous roar shattered the morning air—a sound I knew all too well. The citizens of King's Landing certainly knew what a dragon sounded like, but even they seemed stunned by the volume and power of this particular roar.
The Cannibal had arrived.
He descended from the clouds like an oncoming storm, massive black wings spread wide, dwarfing everything beneath him. Beside Syrax, he was a behemoth—easily four times her size, his black scales gleaming with hints of deep grey in the sunlight. His yellow eyes—turned blue again—searched the city, finally finding me in the square.
The screaming began in earnest then. People fled in all directions as the Cannibal circled lower, his shadow darkening entire streets as he passed. Syrax screeched in alarm, retreating toward the Dragonpit.
"Did you have to make such a dramatic entrance? This isn't a concert, you know." I voiced my irritation, watching as the gold cloaks abandoned their posts, some drawing weapons while others simply ran. "You're worse than Kenpachi at a tea party."
"YES. FEAR IS RESPECT, ICHIGO KUROSAKI."
"Unbelievable," I muttered, running a hand through my hair. Now I was stuck playing mediator between a bunch of scared medieval people and a dragon with an ego bigger than my inner hollow.
I needed to reach whoever controlled that cream dragon before some idiot with a death wish decided to try becoming a hero by attacking the Cannibal. Been there, done that, got the Soul Reaper badge.
As if in answer to my thoughts, a clear female voice cut through the chaos.
"Clear the square! Everyone, clear the square NOW!"
I turned to see a young woman astride the cream dragon Syrax, who had returned and landed at the far end of the square. The rider looked around my age, but she carried herself with unmistakable authority. Her silver-gold hair and violet eyes marked her as Targaryen, and the ornate riding leathers she wore spoke of her high status.
This had to be Princess Rhaenyra, heir to the Iron Throne according to what Darro had told me. She dismounted with practiced ease, her hand on a slender sword at her hip. A dozen gold cloaks rallied to her, forming a protective line as she advanced toward me.
Above us, the Cannibal circled once more, then, to my surprise, landed heavily on the opposite side of the square, barely fitting. The ground shook with his weight, and several nearby buildings creaked ominously. The gold cloaks wavered, and even the Princess halted momentarily, her eyes widening at the Cannibal's true size, now visible on the ground.
"Seven hells," I heard her whisper, before she composed herself and continued forward.
I adjusted Zangetsu on my back, stepping forward to meet her, keeping my hands visible and my posture non-threatening.
"Are you the rider of this dragon?" Rhaenyra demanded when we were about twenty paces apart. Her voice was high but firm, with no hint of the fear she must have felt.
"Yeah, that's my ride," I answered, keeping my posture relaxed despite the tension around us. "Name's Ichigo Kurosaki. The big guy is called the Cannibal, but don't worry—he's already eaten today."
Not the best joke, but humor tends to break tension. At least that's what my dad always did at the clinic when patients were nervous—though his jokes usually just made things worse.
Her eyes narrowed. "Yes I know, considering his reputation among the wild dragons of Dragonstone. I wasn't aware he had accepted a rider."
I blinked in surprise. "Wait, you know him? Seriously?"
"Every Targaryen knows of the Cannibal," she replied coolly. "He's lived on Dragonstone for generations, killing any who approach him—including other dragons and their eggs." Her gaze hardened. "Which makes me wonder how you managed what no dragonrider has ever achieved."
Before I could respond, a commotion from the direction of the Red Keep drew our attention. More gold cloaks were approaching, led by an older man in elaborate armor. Behind them marched soldiers bearing the three-headed dragon sigil of House Targaryen.
"The City Watch Commander," Rhaenyra explained, seeing my questioning look. "And it appears the castle garrison has been mobilized as well."
I sensed the Cannibal tensing, his massive body coiling subtly in preparation for potential conflict.
"Easy," I warned him mentally. "Let me handle this."
"IF THEY ATTACK, I WILL RESPOND IN KIND," came his ominous reply.
Not the reply I was hoping for, but it'll do for now. I turned back to Rhaenyra, who was watching me with intense curiosity.
"Uh—Princess," I said, not used to calling out someone with their titles, "I mean no harm to your city or its people. I've come seeking an audience with your father, King Viserys."
She raised an eyebrow. "And you thought bringing an enormous wild dragon known for eating his own kind was the appropriate way to request a royal audience?"
I winced. Okay, yeah. I deserved that. But it wasn't exactly my fault!
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's... complicated. I come from a land far beyond the Smoking Sea. I have information your father might find valuable, especially regarding ancient Valyrian knowledge."
That caught her interest, though she maintained her wary stance. "Valyrian knowledge? Of what sort?"
Before I could elaborate, the City Watch Commander reached us, immediately positioning himself between Rhaenyra and me.
"Princess, please retreat to safety," he said urgently. "The Small Council has been assembled, and your father requests your immediate return to the Red Keep."
"In a moment, Ser Harwin," she replied, not taking her eyes off me. "I believe our visitor has an interesting tale to tell."
"Princess, I must insist—"
"You heard Her Highness," came a new voice—older, female, and accustomed to command. Another dragon had landed during our conversation, this one with brilliant scarlet scales and pink wing membranes. The rider appeared to be in her forties, still striking with the same Targaryen coloring as Rhaenyra.
"Cousin Rhaenys," Rhaenyra acknowledged with a nod.
The older woman—Rhaenys Targaryen, apparently—dismounted from her dragon, Meleys, and approached us, her gait confident despite the Cannibal's looming presence.
"So the old black terror has finally chosen a rider," she observed, studying me with shrewd eyes. "And a foreigner at that. How... unexpected."
"HAS ANOTHER COME TO CHALLENGE ME?" The Cannibal's mental voice thrummed with anticipation rather than concern.
"No challenges," I insisted firmly. "We're here to talk, not fight."
The situation was balanced on a knife's edge. One wrong move from either side could trigger disaster. I needed to de-escalate quickly.
"Princess Rhaenyra, Princess Rhaenys," I said, addressing them both with what I hoped was appropriate formality, "I apologize for the alarm our arrival has caused. If you'll allow it, I'll come with you to the castle to meet with the king, and the Cannibal will remain outside the city walls until proper arrangements can be made."
Rhaenyra and Rhaenys exchanged a glance, some unspoken communication passing between them.
"A reasonable proposal," Rhaenys said finally. "Though I doubt any 'arrangements' exist that could accommodate a dragon of that size within our city."
"He can hunt in the Blackwater Bay and the surrounding countryside," I offered. "He won't trouble your people or your dragons unless provoked."
The Cannibal made a rumbling sound that wasn't entirely agreement. More like a teenager saying "whatever" while rolling their eyes.
Rhaenyra nodded slowly. "Very well. You will come with us to the Red Keep. Your... companion can remain beyond the city walls, near the Blackwater."
"Sounds fair," I replied, then turned toward the Cannibal, pointing a stern finger at him. "You—behave. No eating people, no fighting with the smaller dragons, no burning things for fun. Got it?"
Several of the gold cloaks looked at me like I was insane, directly addressing and scolding a dragon that could swallow me whole. But that's the thing about monsters and powerful beings—they respect strength and directness. I learned that dealing with Kenpachi and Byakuya. Never show fear, never back down.
I sent a clearer mental message: "Seriously, find somewhere to stay outside the city. And please, PLEASE don't eat anyone or start dragon fights. I'm trying to get help here, not start a war."
"WAR MIGHT BE EASIER, ICHIGO KUROSAKI," came his sardonic reply. "BUT I SHALL ENDEAVOR TO BEHAVE WITH ALL THE DIGNITY EXPECTED OF THE GREATEST LIVING DRAGON."
I fought the urge to facepalm. It was like having Yumichika's ego attached to Kenpachi's power, with a dash of Byakuya's superiority complex thrown in.
With a powerful thrust of his wings that sent dust and debris swirling throughout the square, the Cannibal launched himself skyward. The sound was deafening, and the downdraft nearly knocked several of the gold cloaks off their feet. He circled once, letting out a roar that seemed deliberately calculated to impress (or intimidate) the other dragons, then headed toward the Blackwater Rush.
Show-off.
"Impressive creature," Rhaenys commented, watching his departure. "Larger than Vhagar was in her prime, I'd wager."
"Your father will have many questions," Rhaenyra said, gesturing for me to follow her. "As do I."
As we walked toward the waiting escort, Syrax and Rhaenys's dragon following behind us like enormous, scaly hounds, I caught snippets of conversation from the gathered crowd that had begun reforming at a safe distance.
"Black as coal..."
"—bigger than Balerion, they say—"
"Strange-looking rider, did you see his hair?"
"—old tales speak of a rider on a black dragon—"
Between the Cannibal's dramatic entrance and my own distinctive appearance, we'd managed to create exactly the kind of entertainment I'd hoped to avoid. But at least we'd secured an audience with the king, and without anyone getting eaten or burned to a crisp.
All things considered, I supposed that counted as a win.
As we approached the looming walls of the Red Keep, I noticed a small girl peeking out from behind a cart. She looked malnourished and had eyes wide with fear as she watched the dragons. I slowed my pace, pulled out a piece of dried fruit I'd been carrying from the ship, and casually dropped it near her with a quick wink. Her surprised smile reminded me of Yuzu, and a pang of homesickness hit me.
That's what I was fighting for, ultimately. To get back to my sisters, my friends. To the normal life I'd always claimed to want while running headlong into danger to protect others. Some things never change, no matter what world you're in.
"Tell me, Ichigo Kurosaki," Rhaenyra said as we passed through the massive gates, "what brings a man with hair like fire, wielding a blade like none I've ever seen, to our shores on the back of the most feared wild dragon in the realm?"
"Would you believe I took a wrong turn on my way home?" I quipped, before meeting her gaze more seriously. "It's a long story, Princess. One your father should probably hear from the beginning."
I didn't miss how the guards and servants we passed were sneaking glances at my bright hair and Zangetsu on my back.
She smiled then, a genuine expression that transformed her from regal princess to curious teenager. "Well then, we shouldn't keep him waiting. The arrival of a stranger riding the Cannibal is likely the most interesting thing to happen in King's Landing since my uncle's latest scandal."
"So I'm already tabloid material," I muttered, which earned me a curious look from Rhaenyra. I kept forgetting that half my references wouldn't make sense here.
As we climbed the winding path to the Red Keep, I had to suppress a laugh imagining Urahara's face if he could see me now. The shopkeeper would be taking notes and probably trying to figure out how to market dragon rides back home. Yoruichi would never let me live this down, and Chad would just give that silent nod that somehow conveyed both "that's impressive" and "of course you found trouble again" at the same time.
I wouldn't blame him though, I was walking into a medieval castle, bonded to a dragon with an attitude problem, and about to meet a king in another dimension.
How bad could one king be?
...Knowing my luck, I was about to find out.