The winds off the sea had turned sour.
High on the eastern cliffs, Vezdaryon felt it in the air an acrid tang, not salt but blood-warm and wild. He rose to his feet, large as a small mountain, and the cliffs trembled beneath him. His gaze, sharp as a blade, scanned the skies and the distant ridge where rumors whispered of another dragon the Cannibal. A beast said to match the size of Vhagar, its reputation as dark as its rumored appetite. It fed… on dragons.
The island felt smaller now.
Vezdaryon had grown used to silence. To solitude. He'd carved out a domain of calm no riders, no court, no purpose but his own. But that peace cracked beneath the weight of something older, more dangerous. The Cannibal was coming.
In the throne room of the Red Keep, the two plotting princes spoke in shaded intrigue.
Aemond leaned forward over the desk. "If these rumors are true—a dragon that kills dragons—what a prize for the one who controls it."
Daeron's eyes lowered to the parchment before him. "But it's unclaimed. You know what that means under Usurper Stark law? Anyone who rides a dragon born without a rider risks death."
Aemond scoffed. "Let them come. A dragon like that spoils that law. It levels the board."
Daeron nodded slowly. "The Shadow at Dragonstone is large, but it's silent. It's not hunting other dragons." He looked toward the window shaded by silk. "The Cannibal forces its rivals to choose: protect or perish. It's a test."
Aemond cracked his knuckles. "And if it perishes… it's ours."
Daeron didn't respond, only watched the sun dip low. The plotting was alive and yet indecision clouded both of them.
Back on Dragonstone, the Cannibal was more than a rumor.
Below in the cliffs, the air quivered with tension as Vezdaryon flew west—closer than ever to Dragonstone's eastern ridge. The sun warmed his scales as he circled low, the ocean roaring beneath him. When he landed, the ground shook.
He sensed the behemoth's presence deeper, darker. If Bronze or Vermithor answered a challenge, they thrived. But the Cannibal… he killed.
Not just wild beasts. Other dragons.
Vezdaryon bristled.
On the cliffs, hatchlings gathered in their gilded cages, frightened. The roars of Vermithor and Syrax had echoed early this morning as their riders tested patrols overhead. No one had noticed Vezdaryon circling until he landed in plain sight, black as night, silent as a tomb.
All attention fell to him.
They saw his weight, his power, all of it untamed.
And then they saw his eyes.
He wasn't angry. They flared. Focused.
His peace had ended.
That night, the cannons glowed across the northern ridge detonations that rattled Dragonstone's white walls. The dragonkeepers scattered, awakened from watch. Smoke curled into the sky. The Cannibal had roared first.
Vezdaryon climbed atop a rock ledge and roared back. A single sound that split the black of night with a promise.
He sat there through the hours roar after roar, claim for claim. They were two black demons shouting across the world.
And in the gathering dark, Vezdaryon vowed:
His domain would not be taken.
His solitude would not be stolen.
The Cannibal would not stand unchallenged.
He lifted off at dawn, wings beating storms over the cliffs. His shadow raced across the inland valley. The island held its breath.
———————-
Hope you enjoyed the chapter