We Bleed Silver(GOT/ASOIAF Fanfic)

The searing dragonfire surged past Draezell's body. Vermithor had clearly overestimated the flexibility of its neck. If it had the serpentine neck of the Blood Wyrm Caraxes, it might have succeeded in striking the insect clinging to its back.

But Vermithor's thick neck was ill-suited for such a maneuver. Still, its dragonfire was vast and intense. The scorching wave licked across Draezell's side, setting his clothes aflame but miraculously sparing his silver hair.

A faint, silver-red glow flickered around Draezell, shielding him from the flames. Clinging tightly to one of Vermithor's bony spines, he flattened his body against the dragon's back.

"Vermithor, ***sōvēs***!"

The bronze dragon grew even more agitated, shaking its body violently in an attempt to dislodge the pest. Yet, despite Vermithor's discomfort, there was something about the boy's scent that it found strangely pleasant.

"ROAR!"

Vermithor turned toward Silverwing, intending to summon its companion for help, only to notice that Silverwing was also attempting to shake something off its back.

"Vermithor, ***sōvēs***!" Draezell shouted again.

With a thunderous roar, Vermithor surged forward, its massive wings unfolding. The dragon's talons lifted from the ground, and it took to the skies, the boy still clinging to its back.

This did not mean Vermithor had submitted to Draezell's commands. On the contrary, the dragon was determined to teach the audacious little pest a lesson.

Roaring furiously, Vermithor shot skyward in a vertical ascent.

Draezell's feet dangled helplessly as he struggled to maintain his grip on the dragon's spine. Fierce winds whipped past him, but something on the dragon's back seemed to shield him from the freezing air and the crushing force of the ascent.

Through his magical vision, Draezell sensed that as Vermithor took flight, a portion of the fiery volcano within the dragon seemed to split off. This fiery energy stabilized the rider's position on the dragon's back, ensuring he wouldn't be swept away by the turbulence.

"Vermithor, level flight!" Draezell commanded.

Vermithor responded by spewing a massive burst of dragonfire and diving straight into it. The dragon hoped to incinerate the pest clinging to its back. In Vermithor's mind, the earlier failure had been nothing more than a minor fluke.

"Vermithor, level flight!" Draezell shouted again, struggling to reposition his feet against the dragon's back. The fire posed little threat to him, though his clothes were now in tatters.

Realizing that the flames couldn't harm the boy, Vermithor abruptly halted its ascent and flipped itself mid-air, attempting to hurl Draezell off its back.

Once more, Draezell's feet left the dragon's back. "Vermithor, reverse your position! Level flight!" he shouted as blood surged to his arms. His hands, gripping the bony spines with all their strength, began to bleed. Silver-red streaks slowly seeped from his fingers and into the dragon's body.

"Vermithor, obey me!" Draezell bellowed with every ounce of strength he had. "Reverse your position! Level flight!"

With a frustrated roar, Vermithor complied. The maneuver had been uncomfortable for the dragon as well, forcing it to realign its body. However, it had no intention of giving up. After leveling out briefly, Vermithor tucked its wings and dove toward the ground in a steep descent, determined to rid itself of the boy once and for all.

Draezell's feet once again left the dragon's back. Yet this time, a faint smile appeared on his face.

His blood successfully seeped into the dragon's body. Through his magical vision, Draezell could see the fiery core of Vermithor's volcanic frame begin to take on a silvery hue.

Vermithor felt the change as well. To its heightened senses, the small, pleasant-smelling pest on its back now exuded an even more comfortable presence. The dragon could even sense a new energy flowing within itself, gradually improving its body in subtle yet profound ways.

The feeling was unexpectedly pleasant—more so than it had ever felt with the previous rider who had forged a bond with it.

Draezell's heart raced.

He realized that the dragon beneath him had stopped resisting his presence. Instead, a strange sense—one that conveyed something like, "You're not bad, kid. You make me feel good."—seemed to flow directly into his mind.

Understanding dawned on him.

Forming a bond with such a powerful magical creature as a dragon could not be achieved through blood magic alone. There was only one explanation: he had tamed Vermithor. Their connection now came from the mystical bond between dragon and rider.

Vermithor spread its colossal wings again and ascended steadily into the sky.

"Vermithor, level flight.

This time, the dragon obeyed without resistance, flying smoothly. Draezell could feel it—whether through the flow of blood magic or an unexplainable deeper force—the bond between them had solidified.

"ROAR."

The dragon let out a sound that almost resembled a sigh, flapping its wings with a few measured beats as it glided through the air.

"Vermithor, ascend!"

Vermithor raised its head and soared upward, climbing to the height Draezell silently envisioned. It then circled gracefully under his guidance.

"Dracarys!"

At last, Draezell could shout the word with pride.

A golden blaze erupted from Vermithor's maw, carving a long, fiery trail across the sky before exploding in a brilliant burst.

Vermithor flew through the flames with Draezell on its back, roaring loudly with excitement.

"Vermithor, return!"

The dragon banked around the towering column of smoke, heading back toward the ruins.

Just then, a silver dragon's shadow pierced through the black fog, flying alongside Vermithor.

Vermithor turned its head to glance at Silverwing, who let out a cheerful chirp before beating its wings with vigor, easily overtaking Vermithor.

Draezell spotted the figure of Valar on Silverwing's back, his younger brother looking thrilled.

The sturdy boy, though also left without clothing after the flames, seemed to have had an even smoother experience taming Silverwing. He had already flown several laps and was now riding the dragon over to find his brother.

Feeling a wave of irritation and reluctant resignation from Vermithor, Draezell chuckled and patted the bronze scales beneath him. "Vermithor, let's prepare to land."

The dragon leveled its wings and began a slow descent toward the ground.

It was then that the Binding Stone on Draezell's chest emitted an unusual glow. Shadowy figures seemed to flicker within the stone.

The next moment, the pendant shattered.

A thick tide of black shadows surged from the broken fragments, engulfing Draezell and Vermithor in the blink of an eye.

Yet, to the onlookers awaiting the dragon's landing—or Valar, who had already descended—nothing seemed amiss.

Only Silverwing appeared to sense something, sending faint signals of unease to its rider, though not enough to provoke alarm.

Valar tilted his head in confusion, looking up at the slowly descending Vermithor.

"What's happening?"