Before Rayder could even let out a sigh, a sudden whistling roar sliced through the sky above the ruins.
All the creatures that had been previously crawling or lurking in the shadows of the night immediately scurried away or went into hiding. The sudden gusts of wind that followed stirred up sand, dirt, and ash, flinging debris through the air in a chaotic swirl.
Rayder cautiously poked his head out from beneath his stone shelter and looked toward the sky.
What he saw instantly made his heart race.
Above him soared a monstrous shadow—colossal wings blotted out the remaining light, and within the creature's slightly opened maw, a flickering glow of fire could be seen, as if the dragon was prepared to unleash its deadly flame at any moment. The sheer presence of this beast radiated power and dominance, a terrifying reminder that this world was ruled by creatures far stronger than anything he had encountered so far.
It was an adult dragon—majestic, terrifying, and awe-inspiring.
Rayder was stunned.
This was his first time seeing a real dragon of such immense size and force. The massive creature let out another deafening roar as it glided majestically toward the massive volcano that stood at the heart of the ruined Valyrian landscape.
Just then, a cold and mechanical voice echoed in his mind:
"Bloodfire energy detected."
The system had spoken. The energy he had been desperately searching for—the energy capable of hatching Kidora—was real and close.
But Rayder didn't react right away. He stood frozen, awestruck by the majesty and terror of the dragon, his mind still trying to process what he had seen.
It was only after the dragon vanished into the night sky—its enormous wings beating against the wind and growing smaller in the distance—that Rayder snapped back to reality.
His mission was finally within reach.
This was the energy he needed to complete his purpose. And although he hadn't heard the system's message clearly—his mind too focused on the magnificent dragon—he understood enough. That massive creature, that living legend soaring through the skies, held the power to hatch Kidora.
Looking down at his own small, fragile frame, Rayder couldn't help but mutter, "Can my small body really tame something that large?"
The thought was daunting.
He tried to recall what he knew about dragons from the original world of Game of Thrones. He remembered stories of dragon-riding—how it wasn't always successful. In fact, it was often fatal. Those who failed were reduced to ashes under Dragon Flame. It wasn't just about bloodline; it was about willpower, connection, dominance.
Still, Rayder hesitated for only a few seconds before firming his resolve.
He needed a dragon. Kidora, still in its egg, was useless for now. Even if it hatched, it would need time—years, maybe decades—to grow strong. But the adult dragon? That was power now.
Rayder's eyes gleamed with ambition.
He lay back on the ruins of stone, eyes fixed on the darkened sky, his mind already planning. He knew that trying to return to the Essos continent without a dragon would be suicide. His silver hair—so bright, so distinct—marked him clearly as a descendant of Valyria's dragonlords.
And the current powers in Essos… they hated the old dragon families with a deep and burning vengeance.
He could easily imagine what would happen if he returned weak and alone.
But Rayder wasn't one to give up so easily. He clenched his fists.
He was of the Dragonlord bloodline. And he would ride a dragon.
In his mind, he imagined it clearly—his future self soaring through the sky on the back of a dragon, flames erupting beneath him, enemies trembling in fear. The image filled him with both excitement and hope.
He made his decision.
At dawn, he would begin his journey toward the central volcano—the dragon's lair.
If he failed to tame this dragon, he would search for another. And if that failed too, he would put all his effort into hatching Kidora.
One way or another, he would rise in this world.
One day, he vowed, he would be powerful enough to reclaim his place among the stars and even enjoy luxuries like fresh beef again—something he sorely missed.
With his mind made up and his heart calmed, Rayder finally closed his eyes and drifted into sleep—his first true rest in the terrifying ruins of Old Valyria.
---
Despite the lurking magical creatures hidden in the shadows of the ruins, Rayder slept soundly. The Dragon King's Pressure emanating from his bloodline acted as a deterrent, forming a protective barrier around him. Nothing dared come close.
Even in dreams, he felt protected.
When the first pale light of dawn pierced the gray skies overhead, Rayder stirred awake.
He blinked a few times, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and stretched his sore limbs. His muscles ached, but his spirit was high.
He reminded himself of the day's plan: Find the dragon's lair. Survive. Tame the beast—or prepare Kidora.
Climbing out of the triangular crevice between collapsed stones, Rayder took a long breath of the sulfur-tainted morning air.
Not long after setting off, his stomach growled loudly, reminding him of the most pressing issue of the morning: food.
As he walked through the desolate ruins, he kept a sharp eye out for anything that might be edible. To his surprise, fortune seemed to smile on him today.
In an abandoned corner of the rubble, Rayder discovered something rare—a canine carcass, its fur matted and slightly decayed, but still largely intact.
He blinked, stunned.
Was this luck or a trap?
Still, hunger won out.
"This is basically a gift from the heavens," Rayder said to himself, grinning despite the stench.
He quickly picked up the carcass and slung it over his back, carrying it in search of a place to cook it.
But as he walked, he began to notice something strange.
Behind him—maybe ten meters back—a swarm of thumb-sized black ants were following in formation. At first, he thought it might be coincidence, but after stopping multiple times to test it, he confirmed it: they were following the carcass.
Whenever Rayder walked, they followed. Whenever he paused, they paused too.
He sighed. "Guess I stole their lunch."
Still, Rayder wasn't worried. There were a lot of them, yes—but they weren't strong enough to threaten him.
He ignored the ants and continued walking until he found a pool of molten lava bubbling beneath a rock shelf.
Using a flat stone and a stick, he skewered and roasted one of the dog's front legs. The rich smell of sizzling meat filled the air. When it was ready, he devoured it ravenously.
It wasn't gourmet food—but after days of scavenging, it was paradise.
With his hunger satisfied, he tore off the remaining legs of the carcass and wrapped them in cloth scraps as dry rations. Then, in a rare act of kindness—or perhaps practicality—he left the rest of the body behind for the ants.
"I already took what I needed. You guys can have the rest," he said aloud, more to himself than them.
As he walked away, he glanced back to see the ants swarming the carcass, working in perfect coordination to disassemble and carry the remains.
Rayder smiled to himself.
At least someone else got to eat today.
---
He continued moving through the ruins, each step taking him closer to the looming volcano in the distance. Its peak was wreathed in smoke, the faint red glow of magma visible even during the day.
Despite the destruction and desolation, Rayder felt hopeful.
He had direction. A plan. A goal.
He wasn't just wandering anymore.
This world was still deadly. Every step might be his last.
But now, he had something few others had—purpose.
And with that purpose came strength.
As long as he persevered, he believed—no, he knew—he would one day tame the dragon, hatch Kidora, and rise as the true heir of the Valyrian Dragonlords.
His journey had only just begun.
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