The seasons turned as steadily as the great wheels of the gods, and the Vale itself began to change beneath my watchful eyes. Aereryth's wings, once tentative and young, now beat a steady rhythm against mountain winds, carrying me farther than before to corners of the land where old customs held fast. In those hidden places, seeds of new ideas took root quietly, like fires beneath the snow ready to spark.
Runestone remained my base, a nexus where tradition and innovation met in cautious balance. My mother watched as I transformed the ancient halls into places of learning and craft—glassworks grew brighter, fields greener, and ships stronger. Some in the Vale whispered I was bending the future to my will, a boy with a dragon who refused thrones but wielded strange power all the same.
The lords were uneasy. Old men with grayer beards sent emissaries to observe, weighing my every move.
One such visitor arrived under dour skies—a lord from the Fingers named Lord Harlon. Tall and broad-shouldered, with wary eyes and a mouth that rarely smiled, he came to Runestone bearing questions wrapped in suspicion.
"You walk a dangerous road, young dragonlord," he said over thick cups of mead in the hall's great chamber. "The realm shakes with power struggles. You would do well to pick a side."
I met his gaze evenly, pushing my cup aside. "I choose the Vale. Its people, its prosperity, and its future. I do not seek the iron crown or the battles that come with it. There is strength in peace."
"Hah," Lord Harlon chuckled, dry and hollow. "Peace is a blade you must learn to wield better, or it will cut you down. Dragons burn bridges, boy. Remember that."
Aereryth shifted beside me, a low growl beneath his breath. The warning in the words was clear, yet I accepted it as part of the game I refused to play by the usual rules.
The next days passed in a swirl of meetings and travels. With Aereryth's wings spanning the sky, I ventured toward the shores bordering the Vale—salt air thick in my nostrils, ships lined in neat rows waiting for new designs.
Here, I met with shipwrights eager to learn. Together we fashioned vessels swifter and stronger; hulls streamlined to cut through waves and winds with ease, sails catching gusts like the wings of dragons themselves.
The harbor buzzed with life, and traders already whispered of the coming boom.
At night, I poured over charts and star maps, planning routes that would link the Vale to lands beyond Sea Dragon Point. Aereryth curled nearby, his breath a gentle warmth against the winter chill.
The dragon's growth slowed in size but grew in other ways—deeper magic thrummed through his veins, his mind sharp as blade edges, his endurance tireless. His scales toughened into a near-impenetrable armor, and he moved with a grace that belied his bulk.
Together, we were not merely beast and rider—two souls intertwined in purpose and power.
But not all progress was met with open arms.
Voices rose among the stewards and smallfolk, some shrill with fear of change. Tradition had deep roots here, and there were those who saw the silver dragon as a harbinger of doom rather than hope.
One evening, as snow fell soft and silent, a group of men confronted me outside the glassworks — gaunt faces shadowed in torchlight, eyes suspicious and hostile.
"You claim to bring change," their leader said, a man named Eirik with a voice rough as gravel, "but what price will we pay? Your dragon's fire can scorch us all."
I stepped forward, calm and unafraid. "Change carries risks. But I will protect the Vale. Aereryth and I are its shield."
The men hesitated, the flickering flames of their torches reflecting off the dragon's scales, his eyes bright with warning.
"We will see," Eirik murmured, and with that, they melted back into the night.
Inside, I sat by the hearth alongside my mother. The silence between us was heavy but familiar. She never asked for promises; her faith was in actions and endurance.
"The Vale watches you, child," she said finally. "Strength is not only fire and steel. It is patience, wisdom, and knowing when not to strike."
I nodded, feeling the truth in her words. My destiny was not to conquer crowns but to build legacies.
Outside, Aereryth's wings beat softly against the stone walls, a guardian of the future we both carried in our hearts.