Dragonstone — The Cliffs
The smell of fire still clung to the air.
Jace and Luke stood on the cliffs, mouths agape, staring into the sky where the battle had just ended. The sea beyond was coated in mist, but above it, fragments of the Cannibal still burned as they fell embers trailing into the horizon like a funeral pyre scattered across the heavens.
"I saw him… rip its face off," Luke whispered, voice trembling. "Like a beast. He just… tore it away."
Luke didn't speak. His eyes were wide, hands clutching the stone balustrade until his knuckles were white. No lessons with Maester Gerardys had ever described a dragon battle like that. Not even in Valyria.
Down below, dragonkeepers were shouting. Some ran toward the lower cliffs, others toward the castle, relaying orders with frantic urgency. None dared approach the black silhouette that now slowly circled above massive, smoking, and alive.
The Shadow had won.
Dragonstone — The Great Hall
Laenor paced near the hearth, brow furrowed, lips set in a grim line.
"He killed the Cannibal," Ser Steffon said again, voice low. "He killed the bloody Cannibal."
Laenor fingers curled into fists. He said nothing, only glanced toward the shattered windows. A greenish haze still lingered in the distance, remnants of the Cannibal's fire swirling like ghost-light in the sky.
Rhaenyra sat nearby, her boys silent at her side. Even Jace, usually bold, looked shaken.
"He didn't fight like a dragon," Laenor muttered finally. "He fought like a killer. Tactical. Precise. There was nothing wild in it. That… was experience."
Maester Gerardys whispered, "He's not just another dragon. He's a creature of purpose. He came here for the Cannibal — and now he owns the sky."
King's Landing — The Red Keep
A raven arrived before the flames on the horizon even faded.
The Grand Maester unrolled the parchment, and read in silence.
Queen Alicent was mid-conversation with Ser Otto when the door creaked open. The look on the Grand Maester's face stole the breath from her throat.
"Well?" Otto asked.
"A message from Dragonstone," the Maester said, voice barely above a whisper. "The Cannibal is dead."
"Dead?" Alicent repeated.
"Slain. In the skies above the keep… by him."
There was a long silence. Ser Otto leaned back, processing
"Just How big is he now?"
"They say… bigger Vermithor, perhaps more. far more agile."
Alicent swallowed, her knuckles pale around her wine cup.
"The Shadow."
The Streets of King's Landing
Children ran through the alleys, shrieking.
"The black dragon won!"
"He's the biggest dragon ever!"
"No, he's not! Vhagar's still bigger!"
"Nuh-uh! This one ripped the other one's face off!"
Vendors paused in their stalls. Men in taverns looked up from their cups. The word traveled fast, like gossip born on wings of flame.
The Cannibal was dead.
And a dragon with no rider now ruled the sky.
Dragonstone — The Tower Roost
Vezdaryon perched high above the bay, wings half-folded, tail curled around broken stone and scorched rubble.
His black scales glinted bright red where firelight struck them. Old scars from battles past mapped his flanks thick ridges along his ribs, a missing spur near his rear talon. His eyes glowed amber, unblinking, as they watched the waves.
Blood stained his maw, still wet.
But he wasn't panting. He wasn't writhing.
He was calm.
The wind buffeted his wings gently, lifting ashes into the air. His nostrils flared as he breathed in the scent of victory, of death, and of silence. His gaze shifted briefly toward the far shore toward the south.
He could feel it.
Magic. Fear. Reverence.
The world already knew.
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Hope you enjoyed the chapter