Deep within the Cannibal's cave, there was now a naked man and three small dragons.
The scene was rather comical; Rhaegar jumped around stark naked and completely bald, looking a bit like his great-grandfather Aegon V (Egg).
Rhaegar was surrounded by dragons, all born because of him.
Title: The Unburnt, Father of Dragons.
(Charisma - Friend of Dragons: You survived the flames together with the dragons; all dragons will sense your kindness and show reduced hostility.)
Rhaegar thought this ability was extremely powerful—almost succubus-level—and should play a decisive role in duels between dragonriders. Unfortunately, most dragon eggs were held by his own family, so this skill seemed a bit redundant.
"This purple one shall be called Belaerys, in honor of the great Dragonlords of Valyria." The little purple dragon seemed to understand, jumping several times on Rhaegar's left shoulder.
House Belaerys had left Rhaegar vast wealth and numerous treasures; after all, he was the family's legal heir. Naming the purple dragon thus would continue the glory of House Belaerys.
"Should this black one be called Lucky or Balerion?" Rhaegar felt "Lucky" wasn't imposing enough—Balerion sounded better.
This egg had escaped death, dodging the Cannibal's maw—truly lucky as dog shit. The lucky one turned out to be Balerion.
Back then, the Cannibal devoured many dragons and eggs; judging by the market value of eggs and hatchlings, that beast might have eaten mountains of gold.
Speaking of which, no one knew where that cunning, vicious old dragon finally died. After the Dance of the Dragons, it ravaged the eastern slopes for a long time, yet its carcass was never found.
Of course, the bonded Silver Magic Dragon was already restless, jumping and playing atop Rhaegar's head. It was the liveliest of all the hatchlings and the one bonded to Rhaegar.
"Alright, little guy, you're excited enough. You are like an Emperor—unique and domineering—so you shall be Silver Emperor." Rhaegar cupped the silver hatchling in his hands; its wing membranes were pale gold, its eyes golden, and even its horns seemed plated with gold.
Emperor—Imperātor—a rank far above ordinary kings, a title unheard of on the two continents in this era. However, the Silver Dragon would eventually grow into an Emperor, sweeping aside Khals, Archons, Princes, Magisters, Sealords, and all other rulers.
The Silver Emperor was noble-born, significantly larger and louder than its two companions. It liked to perch on Rhaegar's head, tolerating no offense from its peers, and occasionally provoking the other two.
In the past, the family's silver dragon was named Meraxes, but that name was unlucky—it was later shot down by a scorpion in Dorne. Moreover, Meraxes was gentle in temperament, utterly unlike this silver dragon with golden horns and eyes, who was unruly, proud, and aggressive.
With all three chicks named, they hopped around happily.
Though their roars were small today, in time, they would converge into a monstrous river.
The thunderous power of dragons would soon shake the world again.
(Identity—Blood of Fire, High Rank: You have awakened dragons; perhaps you can restore the glory of the Dragonlords.)
(Achievement—Dragon Bond: Your silver partner has hatched; you will share glory and loyalty, honor and dreams, blood and courage.)
(Achievement—Chain of Blood and Fire: You awakened three dragons with blood and fire; the bond of blood and fire ties you tightly together. Some friendships are ink on parchment; some are forged in blood and fire.)
Rhaegar raised a finger; fire danced, shifting freely between black, blue, and gold—the fire within him was now stronger and fiercer.
Looking at these kitten-sized dragons, Rhaegar decided to feed them.
He generated flames, but the hatchlings showed no fear; instead, they enjoyed the warmth like cats being petted.
Dragons are lighter than dogs or cats—bones hard but hollow, plus huge wings—but these three, fortified by the Fire Dragon Nest's core, felt heavy, significantly larger than ordinary hatchlings.
Rhaegar felt incredibly lucky: three dragons to serve him—or rather, he had to serve three dragons.
The fire within him now held the Fountain of Youth, the Eagle God's Blessing, and the Bronze Shield; the hatchlings drank the flames greedily.
Especially the Silver Emperor, who looked the most ravenous, his silver scales shining.
Rhaegar stroked the three in turn, boosting their vitality and sense of security.
In the future, he might only ride the Silver Emperor, but the bond of blood and fire connected the four of them; a tactic of besieging enemies with multiple dragons might emerge.
Balerion and Belaerys followed the Silver Emperor like loyal little brothers.
Rhaegar had three children now, but great deeds are often born of adversity.
Rise and fall, extinction and continuation—throughout history, the path of revival is the hardest.
Small dragons would eventually grow into giant dragons, and the process would be incredibly arduous. Once dragons returned, the two continents would surely take notice.
Rhaegar realized more and more how wise his family's choice had been: House Targaryen fled Essos for remote Dragonstone, far from eastern strife, quietly developing and hoarding Dragonlord resources.
Ancient Valyria was a warlike hegemon; even if it ran rampant, its people were like a powder keg ready to explode.
After Valyria fell came the Century of Blood; the Targaryen Dragonlords lived in seclusion on their island, inconspicuous, and thus avoided poisoned wine. Later, riding three dragons, they swept through Westeros, preserving the light of the Dragonlords forever.
In Lys and Tyrosh, some Dragonlords survived, but soon they and their dragons were killed; Lys, Tyrosh, and dragons were blood enemies.
One Dragonlord declared himself Emperor of Valyria and disappeared into the ruins with an army of thirty thousand.
Most notable was Volantis, the eldest daughter of Valyria, who hopped like a pig in the wind trying to restore the empire, only to be crushed by an alliance of powers.
Rhaegar sensed all three dragons would be friendly to him because the Dragon Bond bound the Silver Emperor; the other two would follow him and their silver brother.
After some petting, the little ones finally quieted down and played in a corner.
The cave seemed habitable now; the core of the Fire Dragon Nest continuously absorbed fire and smoke, so the air should improve soon.
Before Rhaegar reached the cave mouth, he heard Barristan and Sessa coming down the passage. After the Dragon Nest's feast, the air in the cave was fresh and pleasant again.
"I am fine. Bring me a set of clothes with a hood and leave them in the corridor; you don't need to come in right now. Also, prepare a full set of living quarters; I will stay in this cave tonight." Rhaegar shouted from the hole.
Hearing the Prince was safe, both men sighed in relief.
Barristan guarded the door while Sessa went to arrange quarters. However, the place was high, large, and smelled of sulfur—hardly an ideal royal residence.
After changing clothes, Rhaegar hid the hatchlings in his ring; the satiated Dragon Nest would keep them warm.
"Your Grace... your hair? Your eyebrows?" Barristan exclaimed.
"It doesn't matter." Rhaegar shook his head.
"What is that!" Sessa suddenly shouted.
They stood on the high slope looking up: a comet's tail slashed across the dawn like a wound, cutting through the crimson sky.
The Red Comet had appeared.