The night in the temple was restless.
None of them managed to sleep soundly. The heat was different there, denser, almost oppressive, as if the stones themselves breathed.
Vaemor was the first to close his eyes, but he did not fall into an ordinary sleep. He found himself on a vast black plain, surrounded by colossal dragons roaring toward a red sky. His chest burned, and when he looked at his arm, he saw that the dragon tattoo was complete, moving as if it had a life of its own.
"Drakon…"
The word surged through his mind, in a High Valyrian he hadn't known he knew.
And then he woke, sweating, the echo of the roar still ringing in his ears.
Kaelyth watched him from across the campfire, her face illuminated by the flames.
"You dreamed too," she said, without Vaemor speaking.
"How do you know?" Vaemor asked.
"Because I did too." Kaelyth showed her forearm; her tattoo glowed faintly, as if burning from within. "I saw dragons. And I saw… something else."
Aerys, who was on guard near the temple entrance, turned to them.
"They're not just dreams." His tone was harsh, but there was fear in his eyes. "The eggs… they're connected to us."
Vaemor nodded.
They didn't need to fully understand. They felt it. Each egg now belonged to one of them, and in a way, they belonged to the egg as well.
By dawn, they decided they could stay no longer. The third tower awaited them. And with the eggs in their possession, the danger had increased.
"Moving them will be difficult," Maekor said, placing his cloth-wrapped egg inside a makeshift backpack. "If they break…"
"They won't break," Kaelyth interrupted. "They're not meant to break."
Zaryon looked toward the ruins through the temple's crumbling entrance.
We are not alone.
Vaemor tensed.
Creatures?
Yes… but not like before. They are watching us.
They left the temple shortly after dawn, moving cautiously through the ruins. The air was heavier, and the tattoos on their arms burned faintly, as if warning of danger.
It was Aerys who saw them first: three short silhouettes, moving among the rubble to his left. They were not the small lizards of days past. These were larger, with elongated bodies and dark skin marked with reddish markings that blended with the scorched ground. Their eyes were intelligent. Too intelligent.
"They are not common beasts," Kaelyth murmured.
Vaemor raised his Valyrian steel sword.
"Then they are something worse."
The first attack was swift: one of the creatures leaped from a broken column, charging at Maekor. The impact knocked him to the ground, but the boy rolled and slammed his axe into the monster's side. The creature squealed, a high-pitched, almost human sound.
The second lunged at Aerys, who managed to jam his spear through its neck. Black blood bubbled over the wood.
But the third didn't attack. She stood back, watching, as if analyzing the fight. There was calculation in her gaze.
Vaemor didn't think twice. He rushed at her, screaming, and plunged his sword into her skull before she could move.
Silence fell again. Only the frantic beating of their hearts and heavy panting broke the air. "This was no accident," Kaelyth said, wiping the blood from her knife. "They were testing us."
"Testing for what?" Zaryon asked.
"To find out if we're worthy as enemies." Aerys withdrew his spear from the corpse. "Or as prey."
Vaemor looked at the horizon. He knew Kaelyth was right.
These creatures were not simple animals. Something in Valyria had made them more than beasts.
They continued forward. They didn't speak much; there was no need. Each carried their egg as if carrying their own soul, feeling its constant, almost comforting warmth.
At noon, they saw the silhouette of the third tower in the distance. It wasn't alone. Around it were larger ruins, remnants of what had once been a sacred district.
"There it is," Kaelyth said. "And if the creatures awaited us on the road, there will be more here."
"Let them come," Vaemor replied, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword.
But deep down, he knew that each step took them deeper into the secrets of Valyria. And that, with each ritual, with each egg that beat against his chest, the blood that coursed through his veins was no longer completely his own.