Chapter 581: The Pale Dragon
"Roar!"
The young green dragon was seized by the neck and dragged into a deep, verdant canyon. A pale, human-like hand clutched its slender neck.
"Wake up, Uragax!" A hoarse voice echoed through the enclosed canyon.
As it was pulled forward, the canyon gradually opened up, revealing more of the surroundings.
"Roar..." The rustling of grass mingled with a rough, melodious dragon's cry, followed by a clear wail. Birds scattered, chirping as they flew away, while a hot, foul wind gusted from the depths of the valley.
"Croak."
Unnoticed by anyone, a nondescript toad emerged from the corner of a grass-covered stone wall. The dream-eating toad stared with its dead fish eyes, puffed up its cheeks, and settled on a pebble.
"Keep it down, ugly," said a gray, humanoid figure riding on the toad's back, blinking its bright purple eyes.
"Croak." The toad croaked dimwittedly and hopped forward twice. The wisdom of the runes was too weak to comprehend human speech.
Rhaegar sighed, continuing to play the role of an unknown Dreamer.
"Wake up, Uragax!"
The red-robed wizard wore a black mask, holding the newborn dragon as if it were no more than a mere chicken. The only part of the wizard's body exposed was a pair of pitch-black pupils.
"Roar~~" The young dragon let out a mournful cry, its small body trembling in fear.
The wizard remained unmoved, his grip firm and unyielding.
"Croak." The dream-eating toad trailed behind the man and the dragon, emerging cautiously from the grass.
Rhaegar's eyes were wide open, missing nothing in the canyon. His gray face gradually shifted in expression. As expected, he could only see images within his dream; the rest of his senses were lost.
'Eyes, ears, mouth, nose, body, and consciousness... The six senses make up a complete person,' he reflected. Each time he entered a dream, regaining one sense would mean losing another within the dream.
'This is the equivalent exchange for dreamwalking,' Rhaegar thought, 'and the limit for the dream eater to maintain a dream. When all six senses are restored, the dream will also collapse.
...
Deep in the canyon, a pale wall blocked a winding stream, allowing the water to wash away the grime clinging to the roots along its base. The mournful cries of a dragon echoed through the air, yet no dragon was in sight.
The red-robed wizard hobbled forward, each step as painful as walking on pins and needles, slowly approaching the pale barrier.
"Roar!" The wizard tightened his grip around the young dragon's neck, causing it to scream in agony.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, a wave of heat and stench surged toward him, whipping the surrounding trees and plants into a frenzy.
"Uragax!" the wizard shouted, raising his hands to the sky in excited anticipation.
Rumble!
The earth began to tremble as the pale barrier shuddered, appearing ready to collapse under the violent shaking.
"Roar!"
A pale dragon wing pierced the sky, blotting out the scorching sun and casting a shadow over the active volcano like a massive, eerie umbrella. The canyon filled with the foul wind, and the once calm stream churned with waves.
The red-robed wizard's pupils trembled as he stared in awe.
Boom!
A massive dragon's head, crowned with a towering horn, emerged from the canyon. The gaping maw of the abyss split open, releasing a torrent of pale dragonfire that roared into the sky. The dragonfire, vast and unstoppable, swept over the grass like a waterfall, its destructive power rivaling that of a volcanic eruption.
"Roar..."
The ancient dragon fully revealed itself, only to fall back weakly. Its enormous head crashed against the canyon cliffs, sending gravel and debris scattering, along with fragments of its pale scales.
Rhaegar, hidden in the corner, watched in amazement. The dragon, with a back as high as the canyon, measured over 800 feet in length—no smaller than the Great Wall of the North.
Rhaegar's heart raced as he slowly reached out a hand.
Hum—
The space around him suddenly shifted, the fragrance of grass and trees vanished, and his breathing grew labored. Startled, Rhaegar felt his mouth and nose grow numb, saliva gathering between his teeth. The dream he was in began to falter.
'There's still time,' Rhaegar thought, urging the dream-eating toad to move closer. His emotions swirled as he realized he recognized this canyon—it was the same one he had stumbled into on his first visit to Sothoryos. He couldn't recall how long ago that had been. The once-active volcano had since fallen dormant, and the Pale Dragon had become a pile of bones.
He needed to determine which house the dragon and the wizard belonged to. What was the secret of this dark green wild dragon?
"Roar..."
The Pale Dragon opened its eyes halfway, its amber pupils clouded with a deathly gray, and its narrow eyes swarmed with strange flies. A mournful cry of pain escaped its mouth as it slowly began to rise.
As more of the dragon's body was revealed, Rhaegar's face changed color. It wasn't uncommon for an ancient dragon to show signs of age—loose skin, a crown of horns ready to fall off. Even Balerion the Black Dread had grown old and ugly, as the Dragonkeepers had said.
But never before had the sight of a dragon unsettled Rhaegar's mind so deeply.
At that moment, the Pale Dragon finally crawled out of the deep valley where the stream spread. Its head, as large as a small mountain, bore a faint trace of its former glory in the horn crown. Yet its jaw hung limp, its eyelids sagged like tattered rags, and its fangs pierced through its dry, cracked mouth.
Flies buzzed around, sticky drops of fluid dripped, and a heavy silence loomed overhead.
"Gulp~"
Rhaegar swallowed hard, his gaze filled with shock as he looked down. The dragon's thick neck was wider than any bridge, and its pale scales bulged like those of an overgrown carp. Its chest jutted out, while its bloated belly sagged heavily. Even as it stood, the scaled skin and flesh dragged along the ground, obstructing the stream and hiding the massive dragon claws beneath.
The dragon's droppings lined both sides of the stream, darkened with reddish blood, emitting an unmistakable stench. Though Rhaegar couldn't smell it, he could easily imagine the foul odor, causing his breath to catch in his throat.
"Why?"
Rhaegar's mind churned with turmoil as he looked at the pale dragon, stripped of all dignity. He whispered, "Why not let it die?"
A dragon of this size wasn't natural. Someone had kept it alive far beyond its time, forcing it to endure a life that should have ended.
"Roar…"
The pale dragon moaned softly, raising its head only for it to slowly droop again. Its dull gray eyes struggled to open, locking onto the purple eyes in the corner.
Rhaegar shuddered, his gray body trembling instinctively.
"Roar…"
The pale dragon ignored the red-robed wizard's shouts, focusing instead on someone else, its throat constricted, a mournful cry escaping. It seemed to be asking the same question: when would it find its release in death?
Rhaegar gasped, a heavy, suffocating weight settling on his chest.
The pale dragon attempted to take a step back, as if longing to soar through the sky one last time. But its wings were as fragile as paper, and its body as heavy as a mountain.
Boom!
The dragon managed only a single step before its massive body collapsed to the ground, scales scattering as it fell in a pitiful heap. The once-soft grass was crushed beneath it, leaving a deep furrow in the earth.
Rhaegar reached out once more, yearning to touch the dragon's body.
Hum—
The dream world shook violently, fracturing like a bubble ready to burst. Rhaegar's gray form began to revert to its original state.
"Croak."
The dream-eating toad's green eyes gleamed as it extended its tongue, licking up the gray mist and, in doing so, rolling Rhaegar onto its back.
In the final moments of the dream, Rhaegar's vision blurred. He could only hear two dragon roars—one large, one small.
"Roar!"
"Roar!"
...
Outside, in Green Hell.
"Roar!"
Rain poured down in torrents as the black dragon glided silently through the night sky, its wings scattering raindrops with each powerful stroke. Below, the vast forest was shrouded in thick black smoke.
The dark green wild dragon unleashed a massive ball of orange and green dragonfire, crashing into it with unbridled fury.
"Brother!" Daeron burst out of the valley, his eyes wide with rage.
"Roar!"
Tessarion crouched on a cliff, curled into a ball, its blackened wings smoldering under the relentless rain.
"Come on, Tessarion!" Daeron shouted, his voice nearly drowned out by the downpour. His young face was indistinguishable between the rain and his tears. As he yelled, he quickly hid a black dragon egg beneath the rubble and dashed toward the forest.
"Roar..."
A mushroom cloud of thick smoke billowed into the sky as the dark green wild dragon plummeted from above, steam rising from its scales. For a moment, its speed surged.
Daeron's eyes widened as he searched the dragon's back, desperately seeking a familiar figure.
"Quiet, Uragax!"
A clear, cold voice pierced the night, carrying an unyielding command that brooked no refusal.
"Roar!"
Upon hearing the long-forgotten name, the dark green wild dragon let out a mournful cry, dragging its severely injured wing as it fell rapidly.
Rhaegar rode the wind, his silver hair whipping wildly, his purple eyes cold and proud.
"Turn right, Uragax!"
As the ground loomed closer, Rhaegar grabbed the left-hand rope with his left hand, issuing the command in both High Valyrian and the dragon's tongue.
Uragax's pupils dilated in struggle as its massive body twisted, forcing its right wing into an almost impossible angle.
Hula!
The wind howled, and dragon blood spattered onto the ground. Uragax's body jerked, slowing its descent, then it glided sideways and took off once more. Just as it regained balance, its bloodied hind legs smashed through treetops, nearly grazing the earth.
"Roar!"
Uragax roared, using the sway of its tail to stabilize and level out its flight.
"Land!"
Rhaegar scanned the surroundings, seizing the perfect moment to give the order. The dragon beneath him turned its head, its amber eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions as it adjusted its posture for landing.
"Don't give me that look, old man," Rhaegar remarked with a grin, undaunted by the dragon's gaze. If he weren't skilled at what he did, he wouldn't dare leap off a dragon's back and switch places mid-flight. Over a decade ago, his uncle Daemon was hailed as the greatest dragon rider on the continent, a title that had been surpassed by the "Dragon Herder."
"Roar... Roar..."
Uragax roared repeatedly, its right wing flapping erratically as it struggled to stay aloft. But eventually, it lost balance and crashed to the ground with a thunderous impact, the forest overwhelmed by the force, spilling mud in all directions.
Rhaegar's body shook violently as the shattered dream world's images flooded his mind. He recalled the pale dragon's corpse, lying lifeless as maggots spawned within its decaying flesh. Though dead, it was in the process of rebirth.
The scene shifted, and the canyon transformed into a Dragonpit in ancient Valyria. A young green dragon was abandoned, left in a cold, damp pit to fend for itself. Nearby, several older young dragons hovered menacingly around it.
(Word count: 1,907)