Into the ruins (2)

My gaze fell upon a magnificent entity sprawled in the cave. Anarion's sleek, powerful body was covered in metallic scales that shimmered in the light. His massive wings boasted intricate webbing and robust muscles. Two large horns, shaped like those of a ram, adorned his head, surrounded by many smaller ones. His whip-like tail was capable of delivering potent strikes, serving as both a weapon and a tool for maneuvering. I understood why some in this world say, "Targaryens are closer to gods than to men." Riding such a creature, one could not be a mere mortal. Standing beside his dormant form empowered me to defy the world. The fanfic authors truly, and I mean truly, undervalue this moment. To grasp what I'm feeling, imagine wielding nuclear power in the medieval era.

I understand that the power of nuclear energy and dragons is vastly different, and no one could know the extent because dragons did not exist in my previous world. Even in this world, dragons can be slain by shooting an iron bolt through their eyes, and the Rhoynars managed to bring down three dragons with them to their graves. However, as a die-hard fan of dragons, meeting them was a dream come true for me. I am excited about the prospect of riding through the clouds with one. It's unbelievable that the Targaryens would kill such magnificent creatures for a mere throne, which they could have crafted anywhere with the help of these beings. They were truly fools who brought about their own downfall. After the dragons perished, the throne they cherished and battled for was also taken from them. I understand that there were several factors leading to the rebellion, and Aerys's madness certainly exacerbated the situation, but the death of the dragon was indeed the first nail in the coffin.

I will not allow that to happen now, as my presence would alter many aspects, including the dance. The book does not clearly define Balerion's size, but it mentions he could engulf a mammoth with his jaws wide open. My Anarion may not be as large as Balerion, but he is larger than Vermithor and only slightly smaller than Vhagar. With the right nourishment and sufficient magic, he has the potential to outgrow Balerion swiftly. Magic is crucial for dragon growth; after Valyria's demise, magic began to wane, leading to the gradual size reduction of Targaryen dragons over generations. This was not due to inbreeding, for if it were, the Valyrians would not have retained their beauty. Dragons are unaffected by inbreeding; it is from them dragon lords got their immunity to the effects of incest originates. Valyria rose to greatness by assimilating changes from other cultures, and the dragon lords' ambition to deify themselves fueled continuous advancements.

Throughout their 5,000-year history, the Valyrian dragon lords learned that sharing their blood with others was a recipe for disaster. This led to the rise of thirty-five other houses, This is why, with the aid of dark magic, attempted to mitigate the effects of inbreeding. When these efforts failed, they turned to their dragons for answers. They succeeded in emulating the dragons' inherent ability to heal or negate bodily afflictions through magic, regardless of how weak or fragile a newborn dragon might be. Through numerous sacrifices of humans and beasts, the dragon lords harnessed this power to address their own genetic side-effects. However, this came at a cost: the infusion of dragon's blood brought with it a fiery temperament, anger issues, disdain for others, and an overwhelming pride in their lineage.

As I survey the area for a way to break the spell, I notice some Valyrian glyphs on the side. My proficiency with these glyphs is limited, but I can decipher the words "sleep, protection, nourishment." It seems these have provided him with magical sustenance until now. The question remains: how do I undo it? I delve into his memories, searching for a solution. Alas, Daeranyx lacks the necessary mastery over Valyrian glyphs to counteract this spell. However, I have a plan. Through my bond with Anarion and a bonding ritual, I could force him awake. This action, though, would enrage him, and I must proceed with caution. Anarion is not an ordinary dragon; he is one of the most formidable dragons in my family, a lineage famous for their fierce war dragons. Anarion wouldn't hesitate to attack me upon awakening from his extended slumber. It still astonishes me that he allowed my parents to put him to sleep. Even in their presence, he never dropped his guard, only tolerating their touch when I was near, and even then, he made his displeasure clear. He must have been aware of what was happening and consented to the spell being cast upon him.

As I sliced my bloodied hand, knowing I needed more blood, I began to chant, "Dracarys, rhaeshis ābrar, rhaenys vīlās, ēdrus!" This chant, meaning "Dragonfire, eternal soul, kinship true, awaken!" calls upon the essence of dragonfire, underscores the eternal bond, and beckons the dragon to rise from its deep slumber. I made a slight alteration, but it was effective because intent is key. With my other hand, I peeled the skin from his teeth and tried to infuse as much blood as possible. In the days before Valyria's fall, blood on his snout would have been enough, but now, uncertain, I opted for caution. The effect was immediate; Anarion's eyes snapped open, and he ascended to his full stature. My jaw dropped in awe. Anarion unleashed a primal, guttural roar that, in the dome-like structure, resonated with immense power. That roar could have made anyone lose control, rupture their eardrums. If not for Daeranyx's experience and his affection for his cherished companion, I might have reacted similarly. Instead, that roar brought tears of joy to my eyes.

Following the roar, Anarion shook his head, seeking the source of his irritation to engulf them in his dragonfire. When his slit draconic eyes settled on me, they flashed with recognition, and he emitted a growl of joy. He lowered his snout to some distance from me and halted. As I approached him, stopping an arm's length away, I placed my hand on his snout and began to caress; he responded with a contented growl. Once sated with affection, he gently shook his head. I steadied myself and met his gaze, a gaze that always brimmed with immense warmth, love, and loyalty towards me.

"Vezof ūmagon, Anarion," I said, and with those words, he moved closer to reassure me of his presence. The foolish lizard always behaves as if he were my mother. Sometimes, he treats me as if I were his own hatchling. Anarion's eyes scanned the surroundings, and upon finding no one, he emitted a questioning growl. (It's been long time Anarion)

"Nyke vēdrus ābra. Ēdrus ābra. Ābrar ūndegon ēdrus." Upon hearing that, he jerked his head away and let out a pained roar. After some reassuring words, he finally calmed down. He wasn't fond of my parents, but still, they were the family of his two riders, and their dragons were his clutch mates. We descended into silence, and I began to view Daeranyx's memories with his parents. Silence reigned for some time as we mourned our losses. (It's only just us now. They are no more. All died on that fire.)

Daeranyx cherished his parents deeply. Thus, whenever I think of them, my eyes inevitably begin to water. Accepting their absence took time. I could master occlumency to erase his emotions while preserving the knowledge of Valyria. However, that would mean erasing Daeranyx Drakonar's existence and rendering the sacrifices made for his life futile. He could never dominate my personality; at most, he might leave an influence, which is necessary since no modern person can easily adapt to medieval times. It is beneficial for both of us to retain his feelings and memories, as well as some of his personality traits, as my tribute to his parents for the life given to his body.

Eventually, I advised Anarion to remain here, knowing his desire to venture out and see his homeland. Valyria was as much a mother to dragons as it was to the Valyrians. Ancient records suggest they inhabited this land well before us, making it deeply significant to Anarion. The unknown threats that may be hiding beyond this castle are a concern, and we must vacate the castle as the spell's strength is diminishing, and soon the protection will fade.

As I began to leave the cave, Anarion settled down to rest. Upon re-entering the vault, I discovered something I had overlooked before: an abundance of Valyrian steel. There were swords, spears, pieces of armor, and jewelry all crafted from it. I needed to devise a way to carry all these items with me, as I couldn't just leave them behind. Who knows what might happen to them, and they serve no purpose just remaining here.

As I began to leave through the passage I had created, I came across a room that was once my father's solar, or the family head's solar. After some effort, the door cracked open. Entering the room, I found nothing but dust, spiders, and rats scurrying about. I started to walk around the table where he always sat, and after sometime just as I was about to leave, I noticed a drawer that was slightly different. I opened it to find a single book that appeared to be a diary. Upon opening it, I discovered it belonged to the head of the house. The book contained spells and secrets of forging Valyrian steel, knowledge already imparted to me by my parents. It was not a lengthy book, and most of it detailed our estates and the gold my family possessed. Now irrelevant, I was closing the book when, on the last page, I noticed something written. It wasn't about wealth; it was a simple message. After reading it, I walked toward a small bookshelf to discover what treasure they had hidden here, and why it was not in the vault.

Upon finding the book, I pulled it out, revealing a handle behind it, which belonged to some sort of cabinet. Opening it, I discovered a trunk crafted from Valyrian steel. As I lifted the lid and saw the contents, I couldn't help but curse aloud. How could I have overlooked searching for this?

Throw me some stones so I stay motivated and finish 15K words to get more readers . Like it ? leave review.