Daenys shook her head desperately—she knew her brother was only pretending to stay calm.
Once Gaemon's wound was tended, Aegon lifted him onto his back. Daenys strapped on the food they had gathered, and the three of them quickly left the supply point.
Night fell like a black curtain draping over the land.
They stumbled upon a small cave tucked in a mountain ravine.
Aegon and Daenys used branches to cover the entrance as carefully as they could, trying to hide any trace of their presence.
They lit a small fire, the faint flames flickering in the darkness. They didn't dare let the fire grow too large—smoke would easily give away their location to other dragon tamers.
As the dim light danced across the cave walls, the tension that had been strung tight as a bowstring began to loosen, if only slightly.
In silence, the three of them chewed on the dried meat rations taken from the supply point. The meat was tough and dry, barely edible.
The air among them was heavy, somber.
Thinking back on the day, none of them had expected so many complications at the very first supply point. One mishap after another had caught them off guard.
"It's my fault," Gaemon muttered, face tight with guilt, brows furrowed. "I never should've let Daenys go retrieve the steel needles. Aegon's the one with the scouting ability—it should've been him. As captain, I made a serious mistake. And now my leg..."
"Don't talk like that. We're not out of options yet." Aegon patted his shoulder. "Let me handle the next two supply points. You've always been the one protecting us, charging ahead for our sake. Now it's our turn to protect you."
Gaemon opened his mouth, as if to reply, but the tangle of emotion stuck in his throat. In the end, he just let out a long breath.
"The real problem is that your injury might affect how the dragon senses you. It'll lower your chances of bonding with one. Maybe we should hold off on taming dragons for now? Once we reach Dragonstone, we'll build a Dragonpit. Maybe we can lure in some wild ones." Daenys' eyes shimmered with tears, her voice trembling as she tried to reason with him.
Gaemon shook his head firmly. "We can't wait. The Targaryens need us—need dragons. I... have to become a dragon tamer."
Aegon threw his arm around Gaemon's shoulders and gave them a strong squeeze. "I've got your back. We'll all become dragonriders. Let me lead the way from here."
Gaemon raised a hand and lightly patted the back of Aegon's.
That night, though they had planned to take turns keeping watch, Gaemon insisted on handling most of it himself.
...
The next morning, Aegon gathered branches and vines and carefully crafted a stretcher for Gaemon.
He and Daenys lifted him together and continued onward, moving cautiously.
Fortunately, they soon made it out of the Rainwood Canyon. The land ahead opened into a vast grassland. The flat terrain and wide visibility made travel far easier.
In this open stretch, Gaemon could walk slowly with the help of crutches. His steps were still shaky, but the trio's pace picked up slightly.
Another day passed.
More dragon tamers began catching up from behind.
But in the wide expanse of this valley, Aegon's archery skills could finally shine. He had trained in the Rhoynar-style [Throwing Archery], which allowed him to fire arrows over 200 meters.
Every time a dragon tamer came into range, Aegon would raise his longbow to the sky. With the chip's powerful calculations, he aligned the red dot of his scope with the estimated landing point. His shots were nearly flawless.
In two days of travel across the grasslands, Aegon cut down over ten dragon tamers who had been trailing them—like death itself stalking the rear. Most never even saw them coming before they fell.
...
The second supply point sat at the convergence of three canyons.
The dragon tamers on the other routes may have arrived ahead of them, but Aegon had cleared out all enemies on their path. The area around the hunter's hut was quiet.
A bit of food remained inside.
They took what they could, rested briefly, and set off once more toward the third supply point.
...
Time slipped by quickly—five days passed.
Gaemon's injury hadn't improved. In fact, the constant travel had caused it to worsen, becoming inflamed. The wound was swollen, pulsing with pain. Every step felt like treading on blades. Fortunately, thanks to Daenys' dedicated care, he hadn't needed to fight and could continue forward with their support.
Aegon noticed that the deeper they pushed into the heart of the Fourteen Flames, the fewer dragon tamers they encountered.
Maybe most of them were eliminated at the first two supply points, he guessed.
On the seventh day, they finally reached the third supply point.
There was an abundance of leftover food in the hunter's hut. No other dragon tamers were in sight. It was clear their team had fallen well behind, no longer traveling in step with the main group. They quickly stocked up and left.
...
The canyon they were in now matched the location marked as Rock Valley on the dragon taming map. It was also where Gaemon had pinpointed the lair of a mature dragon.
Following the map, they reached the edge of a cliff.
Looking up, they saw a massive cave, more than fifty meters across, carved into the cliffside halfway up. The cliff itself was hundreds of meters tall.
At the base of the mountain wound a narrow staircase, its steps worn with countless human footprints—evidence that this dragon wasn't wild, but had been semi-domesticated and fed by Dragonkeepers. But with the Dragon Taming Tournament underway, the Dragonkeepers had long since withdrawn.
The Dragonkeepers' departure meant the dragon hadn't eaten in some time, making taming it even more dangerous. Though a single meal could sustain a dragon for a month or longer, one in a half-starved state was far more volatile—like a wild beast, ready to lash out at any moment.
Aegon and Daenys supported Gaemon on either side as they climbed to the entrance of the Dragonpit.
The pit wasn't deep. Even standing at the cave's edge, they could clearly hear the dragon's heavy breathing echoing through the chamber, rumbling like thunder through the rock, sending chills down their spines.
"You two head back down. The dragon's nest is right at the entrance—I'll call it out," Gaemon said.
"Be careful," Daenys whispered, eyes full of worry, hugging him tightly.
Gaemon gently patted her back.
Aegon bumped fists with him, then led Daenys away from the entrance. But instead of taking the stairs down to the base of the cliff, Aegon began climbing the path carved by the Dragonkeepers, heading for the top.
Gaemon seemed to understand what he was doing and gave him a small nod.
Aegon and Daenys took cover behind a massive boulder at the summit. Aegon quietly unstrapped the longbow from his back, then drew a specially made, thick arrow from his quiver. The barbed, triangular head gleamed with a cold metallic light, promising brutal armor-piercing force.
Down below, Gaemon stood at the mouth of the cave and called out in High Valyrian, "Skarak! I come by the oath of my grandfather, Jaehaexus Targaryen. Skarak!"
Roar!
A dragon's bellow erupted from the cave.
The sound ricocheted off the stone walls, amplifying into a deafening thunder that shook the entire valley.
Aegon and Daenys could feel the ground beneath their feet tremble.
A massive dragon's head, like something forged from burnished brass, emerged from the darkness. Each of its scales shimmered with a metallic sheen. Its neck wasn't long, but thick like a pillar, muscles bulging with raw power. Its chest was wider than anything Aegon had imagined—easily twice the breadth of a typical dragon.
The enormous beast crawled further into view. Even just its upper body towered over thirty meters high, rising like a mountain before Gaemon.
Daenys stared without blinking, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles had turned white. She clutched her sleeve, holding her breath in tense silence.
Skarak finally emerged fully from the cave, its sixty-meter-long frame half-sprawled across the rocky platform. Its golden, vertical pupils stared coldly at Gaemon.
The dragon sniffed him slowly with its wide nostrils, as if trying to confirm his scent.
Each passing second felt endless to Gaemon.
Then, slowly, Skarak lowered its colossal body and turned slightly, offering its saddled back to him.
It was a silent gesture of acceptance—a sign of initial approval.
Daenys's whole body seemed to loosen in that moment. Her face lit up with relief, a smile breaking through the tension.
Gaemon continued speaking softly in High Valyrian, calming the beast: "Skarak, I am Jaehaexus's grandson. House Targaryen is facing great trials. We need you to fly again, to protect us. I need you at my side in battle."
Skarak let out a blast of hot white air from its nostrils, which quickly dissipated into the cool air.
From his vantage point, Aegon watched with quiet joy. He was truly happy for Gaemon—he had done it. With Skarak tamed, they could now ride to the next Dragonpit, no longer forced to struggle through rough terrain. Under the guidance of their bonded rider, a calm dragon would even allow other Dragonseeds to ride along—and the more temperamental ones could still be harnessed to carry a cage for transport.
Gaemon, leaning heavily on his crutch, limped toward the dragon.
He reached out and laid a hand on its iron-hard scales, then gripped the rope ladder strapped across its back. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to climb.
But the moment his left foot landed on the ladder, a stabbing pain surged through him. His balance gave out instantly, and he fell straight to the ground.
Skarak's massive head turned, eyes narrowing with confusion. Its golden pupils focused once again on the fallen Gaemon, a cautious glint returning to its gaze.
It nudged him gently with its snout, then let out a low rumble—as if urging him to try again.
Sweat poured down Gaemon's face. Gritting his teeth, he planted his palms on the stone and pushed himself up. Hobbling forward on one leg, he grabbed hold of the ladder again, dragging himself upward inch by inch—relying solely on his hands and right foot to climb.
Aegon kept a close watch on the scene below, his heart full of worry.
Daenys' chest tightened once more, her palms already slick with sweat.
Though Gaemon gave it everything he had, his struggle didn't go unnoticed by Skarak. The dragon seemed increasingly displeased with the tamer before it. Its volatile nature began to show. In its mind, a master should be powerful and unflawed—not a cripple, broken and limping.
Without warning, Skarak opened its massive jaws and clamped down on Gaemon's injured left leg with razor-sharp teeth. With a savage jerk, it tore him off the rope ladder and flung him back to the ground.
"Ahhh!" Gaemon cried out in pain. Yet even as he screamed, his eyes locked onto Skarak's, not with fear—but with burning determination.
"I won't give up!"
Aegon's frown deepened. The very outcome he and Daenys had feared was coming to pass.
Gaemon pushed himself upright with trembling arms, forcing his broken body to crawl forward once again, inching toward the dragon despite the agony.
Skarak was enraged. It couldn't comprehend why this weak human wouldn't back down. It had already rejected him—why did he still insist on trying to command it?
Flames began to churn deep within Skarak's throat. Its molten breath roiled violently, building toward eruption. Then, with a deafening snarl, it opened its mouth wide—and a cascade of searing fire poured forth like a waterfall, engulfing the earth below. The ground blackened in an instant, the very air seeming to ignite.
"No! Stop, Skarak!"
Daenys stood at the cliff's edge, panic tearing through her. She cried out in High Valyrian, voice cracking with desperation, pleading with the dragon to stop.
Aegon reacted on instinct. The moment the fire burst forth, he was already moving—bow drawn, arrow notched. The dragon-hunting arrow he had prepared earlier flew from his grip like a crimson comet streaking through the sky.
Skarak shrieked in fury.
The arrow struck its left eye dead-on, the wicked tip burying halfway into the socket. Blood, dark and thick, sprayed from the wound like a geyser.
In a frenzy of pain, Skarak whipped its head back and forth, trying to dislodge the arrow embedded in its skull. The dragon's massive body thrashed wildly atop the cliff, losing all sense of balance—until finally, it toppled over the edge.
With a thunderous crash, Skarak hit the bottom, kicking up a cloud of dust.
Daenys, heart racing, sprinted toward Gaemon.
Aegon peered down and saw the dragon writhing in pain, its massive form twisting on the ground, unable to rise. With no signs of another attack coming, he turned and bolted toward the platform.
...
When Aegon arrived, the sight that greeted him stopped him cold.
Gaemon's body had been scorched to the point of unrecognizability. His skin had burned away almost completely, revealing raw, glistening muscle beneath. Smoke still curled up from his flesh, and the stench of charred meat hung heavy in the air.
Daenys clung to her brother's body, sobbing uncontrollably. Her whole frame trembled.
"Brother... how could you leave me like this? We promised we'd face everything together... How could you break your word?" Her voice cracked as she cried, choked by grief.
Aegon knelt beside them and checked for breath—but there was none.
A crushing tide of sorrow rose within him, surging through his chest, threatening to drown him. His mind filled with memories—moments he and Gaemon had shared since first meeting. Gaemon had been his first friend in this strange, foreign world. When Aegon had been at his most helpless, facing death, it was Gaemon who had reached out and saved him.
He could still picture them fighting side by side as if it were just moments ago.
And now... Gaemon was gone. Right before his eyes.
How could he accept this?
"This isn't real..." Daenys whispered, her voice broken as she buried her head against her brother's chest.
"Daenys," Aegon said quietly, his voice low and hoarse, "I want to try. I have to try to save him."
The odds were impossibly slim—but even the faintest hope was still hope.
Aegon raised his hand.
A vivid red orchid, glistening like fresh blood, bloomed in his palm.
The Blood Orchid—radiant and lifelike.
Hearing his words, Daenys lifted her tear-streaked face. A flicker of hope lit her swollen eyes.
Aegon gave her a small nod. He crouched down, gently pried open Gaemon's scorched, cracked lips, and carefully began squeezing the flower's precious juice into his mouth.