"Wohoo!"
Aemond's cry of pure, unadulterated joy cut through the whipping gale. Aegon reached back, his fingers checking the tension of the boy's safety straps with practiced shadow-memory.
"Steady, brother," Aegon shouted over the roar of the wind. "Keep your wits. You shall have a mount of your own soon enough, I promise you on the word of a Prince."
"But what if the Silver Queen rejects me?" Aemond asked, his voice trembling with a mix of hope and terror.
"Silverwing is of a gentle vintage," Aegon replied, though his eyes remained fixed on the horizon. "She has a soft heart for the blood of the dragon. And if not her, then another. Every rider has a fate, Aemond. Do not force the fire."
Aemond fell silent, pressing his face against Aegon's back as the world became a blur of blue and grey. For a time, there was only the rhythmic thrum of Sunfyre's wings—until the music changed.
"Hiss!"
Sunfyre let out a jagged, uneasy roar, his muscles bunching beneath the saddle. Aegon's brow furrowed. His mount was a prodigy of his brood, twenty-two meters of golden muscle and scales, yet the dragon was radiating a primal, bone-deep dread.
Before Aegon could command a descent, the sun vanished.
It was not a cloud. It was a shadow—vast, obsidian, and cold—that swallowed them whole. Aegon looked up, and for the first time since his rebirth, a cold finger of true terror traced his spine. High above, silhouetted against the sun like a jagged hole in reality, was a nightmare made flesh.
Aemond whimpered, his face ashen as he shrank into Aegon's embrace.
"Hold fast!" Aegon roared. He didn't hesitate. He slammed his heels into Sunfyre's flanks, steering the golden dragon into a plummeting dive toward the churning Narrow Sea below.
A heartbeat later, the sky screamed.
A thunderous, guttural roar tore through the clouds as a gargantuan beast descended with the force of a falling mountain. It was coal-black from snout to tail, its scales like jagged obsidian, and its eyes—huge, unblinking orbs—glowed with a sickly, baleful green light.
"The Cannibal," Aegon hissed, the name tasting like ash. "Seven hells!"
The legendary wild dragon, the scavenger of his own kind, had found them. Sunfyre tucked his wings, falling like a golden leaf to evade the initial strike. They leveled out mere feet above the whitecaps, the dragon's wings carving twin furrows in the salt water.
"Calm, Sunfyre! Flow with me!"
Aegon submerged himself into the dragon's mind, tethering their wills. The chase began—a desperate dance of gold and shadow. The Cannibal loomed behind them, his movements languid and predatory. He was a creature of the wastes, a veteran of a hundred aerial slaughters, and he was playing with his food.
Aegon realized the trap immediately. The black beast was hanging back, waiting for the younger dragon to burn out his strength in a panicked sprint.
"Constant speed, Sunfyre. Save your breath," Aegon commanded.
They played a lethal game of distance. Every time the Cannibal lunged, Sunfyre surged forward in a burst of golden speed before returning to a steady glide. The wild dragon seemed almost disappointed. He was used to hatchlings that broke and fled until their hearts burst; this golden drake possessed a calculated, infuriating composure.
The Cannibal began to pull up, his green eyes flashing with a predatory boredom. He was a survivor; if the meal required too much effort, he would seek easier prey—perhaps a nest of eggs on the Dragonmount.
But as the black shadow rose to pierce the cloud layer, a scream of incandescent rage erupted from the heavens.
"Hiss!"
A flash of pale, moonlight blue shattered the grey mist. Dreamfyre, ancient and terrible in her own right, slammed into the Cannibal with the force of a catapult. The two titans spiraled downward, a whirlwind of snapping jaws and raking claws.
"Dreamfyre?" Aegon gasped, his heart hammering against his ribs.
"Sister! It's Helaena!" Aemond cried, pointing upward. "She's come for us! Look, Aegon, she's killing the black one!"
Aegon didn't share the boy's optimism. He saw the way the Cannibal's eerie green fire clashed with Dreamfyre's azure flames. He saw the sheer, savage bulk of the wild dragon.
"We don't leave our own," Aegon growled. He tightened his straps and plunged into the Dragon Spirit state, his consciousness merging fully with the Golden.
Sunfyre screamed a challenge and began a steep, spiraling climb. The distance closed in a heartbeat. As the Cannibal was locked in a clinch with the Blue Queen, Sunfyre struck from the flank.
His jaws clamped onto the Cannibal's obsidian neck, teeth shearing through scales to find the hot, thick muscle beneath. Sunfyre used his weight as an anchor, his fore-claws digging deep into the black dragon's back, tearing and shaking his head with a wolf-like ferocity.
The Cannibal roared in agony, releasing a gout of green flame that forced Dreamfyre back. He twisted mid-air with impossible agility, snapping at the golden pest on his back. Aegon felt the heat of the black dragon's breath and veered Sunfyre away just as the obsidian jaws snapped shut on empty air.
The three dragons broke apart, circling one another in a tense, hovering standoff. Blood, both black and red, rained down into the sea.
The Cannibal hissed, a sound like steam escaping a volcano. He looked at the Blue Queen—scarred but defiant—and then at the Golden, who stood ready to strike again. The wild dragon was no fool. He was wounded, his neck tattered and his flanks bleeding from Dreamfyre's claws. He lived because he knew when the cost of the meat exceeded its value.
With a final, resentful shriek that shook the very air, the Cannibal banked hard, his massive black wings catching a thermal as he retreated into the safety of the clouds.
Aegon slumped in his saddle, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The sky was quiet again, save for the whistling wind. He looked over at the massive blue shape of Dreamfyre hovering nearby. Atop her sat a small, silver-haired girl, her face pale but her eyes burning with a strange, prophetic fire.
They had survived. But as Aegon looked toward the smoking peak of Dragonstone, he knew the true trials were only just beginning.