Chapter 37: Chapter 37 - The Dragon Flies for the First Time (III)
"From this moment on, my name is Aenar Targaryen, First of My Name." God Emperor of Planetos, Aenar Targaryen.
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North - Wolfswood.
In front of the dragon's cave, Jon began to whisper an ancient song.
(Name of the song - Hāros Bartossi).
"Drakari pykiros
Tīkummo jemiros
Yn lantyz bartossa
Saelot vāedis."
(Translation: Fire breather
Winged leader
But two heads
To a third sing).
When Jon began his voice spread through the dimness of the forest, the voice was melodic, beautiful, yet powerful.
Heavy footsteps were heard coming from the cave
Jon raised the pitch of his voice.
"Hen ñuhā elēnī:
Perzyssy vestretis
Se gēlȳn irūdaks
Ānogrose."
(Translation: From my voice:
The fires have spoken
And the price has been paid
With blood magic.)
A huge figure emerged from the cave, its long neck snaking through the air as its body made the ground shake. The crimson color of the beast could be seen even in the darkest night.
"Perzyro udrȳssi
Ezīmptos laehossi
Hārossa letagon
Aōt vāedan."
(Translation: With words of flame
With clear eyes
To bind the three
To you I sing).
"RHHHOARRRRRRRRR" With a thunderous roar that rang out in the night, blood-red flames lit up the sky while the fierce, demonic head could be seen in the light of the red flames.
Jon, illuminated by the crimson dragon fire didn't stop, he continued chanting with even more fervor.
"Hae mērot gierūli:
Se hāros bartossi
Prūmȳsa sōvīli
Gevī dāerī!!!"
(Translation:
As one we gather
And with three heads
We shall fly as we were destined
Beautifully, freely!!!).
With the end of the Valyrian music, Caraxes stopped the crimson fire and lowered his massive body to the ground, revealing a cell bound by steel mesh around the dragon's powerful and strong chest.
Jon, wearing black armor full of intricate details and a red cloak over his shoulders, climbed over the steel netting and reached the black leather cell, where he fastened the belt connected to the cell by thick steel chains around his waist.
"Sōvegon Caraxes!" Jon, or rather Aenar Targaryen, spoke in High Valyrian.
The dragon obeyed, rising from the ground and towering above the trees with its enormous size. It began to walk at a fast pace and soared into the sky with the beat of powerful wings and the sound of rustling trees all around.
Aenar grabbed the cell's levers and leaned forward as the dragon soared high into the night sky with powerful, sonorous flaps. His silver hair fluttered violently against the cold, deadly north wind.
It was the first time he had ever flown so high in the sky, and the cold wind, he thought, did not exist, not with a dragon that radiated more heat than an extremely hot furnace.
To be honest, Aenar hadn't expected to reveal himself a year ahead of schedule; he had overestimated the patience of the Free Cities. At the same time, his prescience wasn't strong enough to predict the future from such a distance.
This led to the events of Volantis, but Aenar didn't think it was as bad as others might have thought, especially since it was a great opportunity to gain prestige quickly, powerfully, and in a big way.
This battle would be perfect for forging his and Caraxes' names; when anyone thought of fighting him, they would have to think of what would become known as the Second Field of Fire.
The complete burning of an army of tens of thousands!
Looking at the towns that seemed so small, with only a few houses still lit, Aenar felt like the king of the world. He wondered if that was how Aegon the Conqueror felt as he flew to Westeros with his sisters/wives.
Though he wasn't going to Essos to conquer at the moment, he was going to kill, and though it wasn't as noble a purpose as Aegon's, it was still honorable to kill the world's greatest rapists.
-
Near the confluence of the Shivering Sea and the Narrow Sea, twenty kilometers from Braavos.
The sky was clear and there was no sign of storm clouds, so the captain of the Mermaid Queen, Jack Morne, thanked the gods for the sunny day. There had been five storms in the last month alone, and even he, accustomed to the temperamental sea, felt that someone had offended a god.
"Come on boys, we're close to Braavos, we want to get off before dark and maybe we can go to the Bordel and have some fun!!!" Jack shouted to the ship's crew, followed by whistles and excited laughter at the idea of spending the night with a harlot in the harbor of Braavos.
Jack nodded in satisfaction as his crew cheered him on. He took the canteen of water from his waist and brought it to his mouth, where he began to drink the most precise liquid in the sea - fresh water.
Suddenly, the thunderous sound of flapping wings made him almost drop the canteen in fright, but the surprise didn't stop there, the ship suddenly tilted sideways into a small dip in the waves. Had it not been for his twenty years of experience, he would have fallen, sinking the ship with his mistake.
Jack managed to stand upright and turned the ship's wheel in the other direction as he stared at the sky in utter horror and terror. The huge shadow could easily cover eight of his ship with the size of its wings, while the crimson color filled his entire field of vision.
The encounter lasted only a few moments, but Jack would never forget the giant crimson dragon flying above him. Swallowing dryly, he swore he saw someone riding the huge crimson beast, the white-gold color of his hair so obvious that he couldn't have missed it.
However, Jack's expression changed dramatically when he noticed the direction in which what he assumed to be a dragon was heading, toward the most powerful free city on the continent of Essos - the City of a Hundred Islands, Braavos!
"Dragon!!!"
"Captain, did we drink too much or did we really see a damn dragon?"
"Captain, can we go somewhere else?"
"I don't want to turn into dragon dung, I still have a pregnant mother and a beautiful wife waiting for me at home to take care of them!!!"
"You like giving your ass, you son of a bitch, what a wife you have!!!"
"Who says I can't be married because of that!!!"
"Did anyone notice that he said his mother was pregnant while his wife wasn't? Was it just me who found that odd?"
"Captain, I have to go to the bathroom, I feel like I've shit myself!!!"
Hearing the voices of his crew, Jack smiled helplessly, but was still grateful to have such a brave crew, anyone else would probably have jumped into the sea in such fear.
"Shut up you bastards and set sail, we want to get to Braavos, or what's left of it, as soon as possible. And Jasen, go and change your clothes, you stink of shit!!!" Jack shouted loudly, pointing at the newest recruit who had shit his pants.
"Yes Captain!!!" Jasen said with an embarrassed look on his face and ran towards the interior of the ship, listening to the laughter of his companions.
"I hope Braavos is still standing." Jack muttered to himself, knowing that the city had little chance of surviving a surprise attack from a dragon that size.
-
Aenar didn't know that he had scared a poor ship, and even if he did, he would probably laugh and fly around the ship a few more times, just to scare them a few more times. Sadistic? He didn't think so, his sense of humor was very good, anyone who disagreed was not riding a dragon.
It had been hours since he had left Westeros, the journey was going more smoothly than he had expected, there were no storms on the way, making the weather very pleasant for a flight. However, Aenar could see that the hours-long journey was beginning to take its toll on his brother's body.
The dragon had slowed down a lot compared to its initial speed when they left Westeros. Aenar knew he had to land somewhere to rest and fly on to Volantis as quickly as possible.
Aenar naturally chose Braavos as a resting place, he really wanted to see the look on the face of the Sea Lord of Braavos when he saw the dragon flying over his city. He'd probably have a heart attack and die, right? From what he remembered, the man was old and very ill.
At the same time, it was a warning, a warning that if they didn't behave, he wouldn't mind punishing the Bastard City that had fled Valiria.
He, Aenar Targaryen, First of His Name, was not exactly a sympathetic man like Jon Snow.
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