Chapter 353: Shapeshift
Woooooo!
A horrifying horn blast echoed over Meereen, a sound both deafening and harrowing, filled with anguish, rage, death, and destruction.
It was a sound from the depths of hell, a curse from the gods.
Everyone who heard it instinctively clutched their ears and screamed in agony, but their cries were drowned out by the horn's relentless wail.
Woooooo! Woooooo!
The sound continued, endless and unyielding, as if it would only cease when the world itself was destroyed.
Samwell tried to shout, but the noise choked the words in his throat.
It felt as though his entire body was about to ignite from the unnatural resonance of the horn.
The usually docile white dragon, Cleopatra, became violently agitated. She twisted and rolled in the air, roaring as she tried to throw off her rider.
Samwell turned to look at Drogon and saw that the black dragon was just as frantic.
The horn seemed to grip the minds of the dragons, driving them into madness.
Boom!
Cleopatra tumbled through the air, smashing the tip off a pyramid. Shattered bricks and dust erupted around her, forcing Samwell to shut his eyes and grit his teeth.
The violent rolls left him dizzy, his stomach churning.
Cleopatra plummeted, crashing onto the ground with an earth-shaking impact. Cracks spread like a spiderweb across the plaza, and the people of Meereen fled in terror.
Samwell clung desperately to Cleopatra's neck, trying to grab her attention.
But Cleopatra remained uncontrollable. She reared back and roared, spewing torrents of orange and black flames that swept across the square.
"Cleopatra!" Samwell roared, but his voice was utterly drowned out.
The horn's infernal wail filled the world, leaving no room for any other sound.
The flames surged across the plaza, consuming dozens of people in its path. Their silent screams of agony only fueled the chaos.
Samwell raised his fist and struck Cleopatra's back with all his might.
Her tough scales dented slightly, and she let out a pained yet soundless screech. Cleopatra turned her long neck to face him, her blood-red eyes locking onto his.
Wisps of smoke curled from her nostrils, and deep in her gaping maw, a searing ball of flame began to form.
Samwell stared back unflinchingly.
Then, his eyes rolled back, and his black pupils vanished, replaced by pure white.
Shapeshift!
Samwell had taken over the minds of a hawk and a direwolf before, but never a dragon.
No one in the history of Westeros had ever dared to attempt to control a dragon through warging. Dragons were not mere beasts.
But Samwell dared now.
Boom!
The world seemed to freeze.
Samwell's consciousness went blank, his senses fading into nothingness.
In the next moment, the world burst back into life.
He could smell the acrid stench of charred flesh, feel the raw terror of the people below, and hear the eternal horn blast that compelled him to fly toward its source.
The horn...the source...
Samwell realized with a start that he was no longer himself.
He was Cleopatra.
But the problem wasn't solved.
Samwell could feel the mystical bond between himself and the dragon fraying, threatened by the horn's sinister power.
Cleopatra resisted, struggling against the horn's pull, but her efforts were in vain.
Even with Samwell steering her consciousness, he could not sever the horn's influence.
If I don't stop this, Cleopatra will break free and fly to the source.
Samwell forced himself to calm down, diving deeper into Cleopatra's mind. Downward, deeper, past the border of black and white, into a luminous river of light.
Flashes of imagery assaulted him: wolves howling, a three-eyed raven flapping its wings, a blazing inferno freezing into ice.
A throne entangled in dead branches loomed over the abyss, and Samwell sank into dark soil.
Deeper and deeper…
The black abyss yawned wide, filled with nameless horrors stirring in its depths.
Suddenly, a slender beam of light cut through the darkness, only to vanish as quickly as it appeared.
In that fleeting moment, Samwell glimpsed a rune—vague, familiar, and elusive.
Then the abyss engulfed him completely.
Samwell awoke with a jolt, back in his own body.
He didn't fully understand what he had seen, but he knew Cleopatra's consciousness held secrets he wasn't yet capable of unraveling.
Still, he hadn't returned empty-handed.
As Cleopatra thrashed wildly, Samwell calmly raised his right hand.
A spark ignited at his fingertip, growing into a blazing flame.
The dragon's blood-red eyes fixated on the fire as Samwell drew glowing lines in the air. The flames traced intricate patterns—resembling a dragon, a serpent, a tower, and a flowing river all at once.
Samwell's blood roared in his veins, surging with a primal energy.
Faint whispers filled his ears, seductive yet foreboding, temporarily drowning out the horn's relentless blast.
Samwell opened his mouth and spoke four deliberate words:
"Blood Seal: Sanctuary."
A powerful force erupted from within him, emanating from his heart and enveloping both himself and Cleopatra.
The horn's influence weakened, muffled as if it came from a distant realm.
Cleopatra's pupils shrank, then dilated. The flames in her throat sputtered out.
Samwell reached out to touch her head, and the white dragon nudged against his hand, her earlier aggression replaced by docile submission.
The horn's spell was broken.
Relieved, Samwell turned toward Daenerys.
Drogon thrashed amid the ruins of a toppled building, his roars shaking the ground. Daenerys lay on the ground nearby, having been thrown from his back.
The black dragon planted his wings against the rubble, crawling westward. Just as he spread his wings to take flight, Cleopatra descended, pinning Drogon's neck under her massive claw.
Drogon struggled and roared, fire and smoke spewing from his mouth, but Cleopatra's enormous size and strength held him firmly in place.
Samwell glanced westward and saw a golden figure soaring away from the Great Pyramid toward the sea.
Viserion?
He had escaped his chains?
Samwell's thoughts were interrupted by a cold, piercing sensation at his back, like a javelin aimed at his heart.
He whirled around to see a harpy perched atop the ruins.
The creature had only half a head, with a single gemstone-red eye gleaming with murderous intent and crackling with electricity.
(End of Chapter)