Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 591: Accidentally Entering the Land of Long Summer

The Smoking Sea.

The sky and sea were shrouded in a thick mist, the surroundings eerily silent and lifeless.

"Roar!"

The acrid stench of smoke filled the air as a smoky, emerald-green dragon flame erupted from the sky.

Boom!

A dilapidated ship was struck, its already weakened mast collapsing with a thunderous crash.

"Roar..."

The ship's hull shuddered violently, and suddenly, countless Stone Men emerged, their heads poking out as they roared and snarled like wild beasts.

"Dracarys!" Rhaegar's voice was as cold as ice, and he gave the command without hesitation.

"Roar..."

With a muffled roar, the dark green flames completely engulfed the ship, swallowing it piece by piece. The Stone Men, like ants on a burning pan, flailed and screamed in torment as dragonfire consumed them. The ship slowly sank, and the wretched figures aboard plunged into the water like so many falling dumplings.

"Ready, release the arrows!"

Two hundred meters away, the Sea Snake watched grimly, commanding the sailors to fire.

With the sound of arrows piercing flesh, the sea turned blood-red. In no time, everything was still once more.

Rhaegar guided the Cannibal higher into the sky, matching pace with the serpentine Caraxes. Daemon's eyes were calm, though a deep, unreadable expression crossed his face.

"It’s all settled," Rhaegar said indifferently, glancing sideways.

The sunken ship had flown the flag of Slaver’s Bay, and the doomed Stone Men had been dressed as sellswords and slaves, with a few wearing armor bearing the three-headed red dragon emblem. They were the remnants of those who had followed his Good Uncle into the Smoking Sea last time.

Daemon rubbed his face and said calmly, "Let's go. I think I can see the island."

"Roar..."

Caraxes and Daemon moved as one, the large scarlet wings of the dragon flapping as they dove into the smoke that obscured their view.

"Be careful!" Rhaegar called out, raising an eyebrow in concern.

But neither man nor dragon heeded his warning, disappearing into the dense smoke with practiced skill.

Rhaegar's eyelids twitched as he watched them go. He couldn’t help but admire his uncle’s courage. Caraxes truly lived up to his name reputation as the "God of the Sea," navigating the treacherous waters of the Smoking Sea with explosive power and unerring precision. Despite the sea’s effects, the dragon never got lost or went mad, leading the fleet safely for days.

"Roar!" The Cannibal bellowed, flapping its black wings in pursuit.

Rhaegar gripped the dragon saddle tightly as his body shook from the force of the Cannibal's movement. The dragon’s temperament had grown increasingly volatile with each passing day.

He pursed his lips and glanced down at the fleet below.

"Roar! Roar!"

On the deck of the Sea Snake, Iragaxys roared restlessly, its pupils red with agitation. The young dragon was chained by the neck and feet, struggling against its bonds.

Rhaegar sighed softly. There was little he could do. Young dragons were even more vulnerable to the Smoking Sea's corrupting influence. Without the dragon tamer’s whip, Iragaxys had nearly broken free.

...

Sunset. King's Landing, Red Keep.

“Helaena, we should go see your father,” Alicent said as she donned a cloak and pushed open the door to the council hall.

“Oh, yes,” Helaena replied softly, still absorbed in her paperwork. With the King away, the responsibilities had piled up relentlessly.

“You need to take care of yourself,” Alicent said, draping a cloak over her daughter’s shoulders. It was late July, and the temperature difference between day and night in King’s Landing was stark.

Helaena continued working, not lifting her gaze from the papers in front of her. Alicent sighed, shaking her head, and her eyes wandered to a tapestry hanging on the wall.

It was a cashmere tapestry from Lys, casually draped over a bamboo pole. Alicent walked over, her brow furrowing slightly. The tapestry depicted two scenes: one showed a blue dragon and a red dragon locked in fierce combat, their ferocity captured in vivid detail; the other depicted a mist-shrouded snow-capped mountain, its peaks disappearing into the distance.

Alicent was so engrossed in the intricate threads that she reached out to touch the blue and red embroidery. Just as her fingers were about to graze the fabric, Helaena suddenly spoke up, “The troops from Gulltown are on their way!”

“Huh?” Alicent was so distracted that she hadn’t heard her daughter clearly.

Helaena’s expression grew serious as she held up a document. “The Braavos and Pentos fleets are moving towards the lower Narrow Sea, and Lady Jeyne has deployed troops from Gulltown to Myr.”

Beyond Pentos and The Gullet lie the Disputed Lands, where the Triarchy once stood. Myr, being the closest Free City to Pentos, is of strategic importance.

Alicent was startled by the news. “Isn't Baelon in Myr as well?” she asked, trying to piece things together.

Even if she wasn’t fully aware of all the political intricacies, she knew where Rhaenyra’s eldest son was. After a moment’s thought, Alicent guessed, “Baelon is tied to his sisters, and Rhaegar wants Lady Jeyne to keep an eye on him.”

Helaena blinked, considering her mother’s reasoning. She hadn’t thought of the situation in that way before.

Alicent placed a hand on her forehead, exasperated. “With Rhaenyra's temper, she’ll turn the Vale upside down.”

To be fair, Jeyne Arryn was a role model for the women of Westeros. She had inherited the Eyrie as a child, ruled the Vale in her prime, and became queen through marriage. With two pure-blood Targaryen children under her protection, no one dared to cross her. Rhaenyra’s cunning and manipulation couldn’t compare to Jeyne’s, and Rhaegar’s decision to entrust his eldest son’s education to her was out of necessity. After all, Alicent herself had once considered sending her younger son, Daeron, to Oldtown to be raised by her late uncle, Lord Hightower.

Helaena frowned slightly as she finished reading the letter. After a moment, she set the paper aside. “Let’s go,” she said.

Alicent stood, her legs numb from sitting too long, and sighed. “Your father has been sleeping more and more lately. He’s not awake for long.”

Helaena nodded slightly as she rose, tightening her cloak around her. She glanced down and noticed that the cloak was a bright green, adorned with a few delicate, embroidered flowers.

Helaena shook her head softly and placed a hand on her growing belly.

...

The Smoking Sea.

Crackling...

The sky and sea were in turmoil, thick black clouds splitting open with bursts of red lightning.

“Roar!”

The Cannibal let out a thunderous cry, diving from the sky with its tail sweeping across the boiling sea below.

Rhaegar’s face darkened as he shouted, “Tighten the sails! A storm is coming!”

The fleet was tossed about by the surging waves, like rootless duckweed swaying in the wind. Sea Snake’s expression grew grave as he swiftly ordered the sailors to take countermeasures. The sudden onset of the storm caught everyone off guard.

Boom!

In the distance, a flash of light shot up into the sky, sending waves crashing in every direction.

"Roar..!"

Rhaegar heard the distinct hiss of steam as water struck something molten. Caraxes, sensing the danger, quickly turned and flew in the opposite direction. The memory of the last time—when an underwater volcano claimed most of the fleet—was still fresh in their minds. The overwhelming volcanic ash had left an indelible scar.

“Lord Corlys, hurry!”

Rhaegar shouted, holding a glass candle in one hand and the sword Truefyre in the other.

Whoo-hoo-hoo!

The Sea Snake knew the urgency of the situation. He took the horn from the messenger and blew it with all his strength. House Velaryon’s fleet, the mightiest in the Seven Kingdoms, responded instantly. The sails were raised, helmsmen turned the ships sharply, and dragon-powered winds surged to turn the fleet around.

Crack!

Lightning streaked across the sky as rain began to fall. Rhaegar soared above on the Cannibal, a raindrop striking his forehead.

Pop!

A sharp sting followed by a burning sensation made Rhaegar frown. He wiped the water off his forehead, only to feel a searing pain on his fingertips, as if bitten by a venomous insect. Realization struck him like a blow. “Acid rain!” he exclaimed.

The drizzle quickly intensified into a downpour, the sound growing louder and more menacing.

Roar...

Cannibal roared, its massive body shielding the fleet below as it shook off the corrosive rain.

Rumbling...

The undersea volcano in the distance continued its relentless eruption, shaking the heavens and the earth.

Splash!

A towering wave crashed into one of the warships, sending sailors tumbling overboard, their desperate screams echoing across the sea.

“Steer! Quickly!” Sea Snake’s voice, usually calm, was now sharp with urgency. The Smoking Sea was indeed a cursed place, filled with catastrophic natural disasters intent on swallowing anyone who dared to enter.

Hulalalala...

Rhaegar’s black robe was soaked as searing rain pelted him, the acid burning through his clothing.

Hum...

The "Bronze" scales and  Cannibal shielded Rhaegar from the worst of the impact, but the force was still tremendous. His head rang with the force, his vision spinning as he slumped onto the dragon’s saddle.

“Roar!”

The Cannibal roared in fury, spitting dark green dragonfire into the sky. The flames collided with the acid rain, producing thick white smoke. The dragon’s green eyes darted back and forth, seeking a way out of the chaos. Finally, its nostrils flared as it caught a scent, selecting a direction with certainty.

“Roar!”

Without hesitation, the Cannibal surged forward, leaping over Caraxes and gliding just above the roiling sea.

Boom!

Red lightning split the sky, casting the world in a blood-red glow as dawn broke. Rhaegar, barely conscious, lay slumped on the dragon saddle, his eyes open just a slit, witnessing the apocalyptic scene unfolding around him. Dizziness overwhelmed him, and as he clutched Truefyre tightly, he succumbed to an uncontrollable sleep.

...

Time slipped by slowly.

The darkness was absolute, leaving him disoriented and unable to discern north from south. Rhaegar had no sense of how long he’d been lost in the blackness.

“Croak.”

A faint toad's croak echoed, and a cool sensation touched his skin. Confused, Rhaegar slowly opened his eyes. Above him, the sky was a deep, serene blue, with a few soft white clouds drifting lazily in the wind.

“Ssshh!”

His head throbbed with pain, and he hissed in discomfort. Using his hands for support, he pushed himself up, feeling the dampness of the wet soil beneath his palms.

“Ssshh...”

To his surprise, a toad was perched on his forehead, staring at him with lifeless, bulging eyes.

“Where am I?” Rhaegar muttered, looking around. He was surrounded by an endless sea of grass, the air filled with the fresh fragrance of earth. He scooped up a handful of the dark soil, its cool, sticky texture confirming the reality of his surroundings.

Rhaegar’s eyes widened as he held the toad up to his face. “Where have you taken me this time?” he demanded, recalling his desperate escape from the Smoking Sea.

“Croak.”

The toad’s tongue flicked out, its grayish belly swelling as if it might burst.

“Roar...”

A dragon’s snoring suddenly rumbled from behind, accompanied by the familiar scent of ash. Rhaegar turned sharply, his eyes widening in surprise. A dragon as black as charcoal lay on its back, its massive head flattening the grass, while hot air streamed from its enormous nostrils.

Rhaegar rubbed his eyes in disbelief. “Cannibal?”

Since when could dragons enter dreams with their riders?

“Gurgle.”

The toad squirmed in his hand before dissolving into wisps of gray smoke, vanishing into the air. Rhaegar furrowed his brow but quickly began to piece together what had happened. The Cannibal’s immense body lay sprawled on a slope, its scales steaming as water vapor evaporated.

Behind the dragon, an endless expanse of land stretched out. Rhaegar stood and saw a towering peak in the distance, its summit covered in heavy snow. The snow-capped mountains extended as far as the eye could see, shrouded in a thick, mysterious fog. He stood on tiptoe, straining to see through the haze, but the peaks remained obscured.

“This isn’t just a dream,” Rhaegar murmured, a smile spreading across his face as he gazed at the snowy mountains. “By some twist of fate, I’ve landed on that lost continent.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, this landscape was reminiscent of the Fourteen Flames from Daenys’ prophetic dream.

“Roar...”

A high-pitched cry of excitement rang out as Iragaxys flapped its wings, eager to soar higher. Rhaegar turned in the opposite direction and saw the sea, veiled in clouds and mist, with the faint sound of waves reaching his ears.

“The Lands of the Long Summer,” Rhaegar whispered, a sense of awe and exhilaration washing over him.

He took a deep breath, feeling his blood course through his veins as the pain in the back of his head began to recede. The air was rich with fire magic, more potent than he had ever experienced, and it eagerly flowed into every pore of his body.

“Roar...”

The Cannibal twitched its tail, drawing in an extraordinary amount of fire magic, which spread a soothing, exhilarating sensation throughout its massive form. Rhaegar inhaled instinctively, feeling the magic enter his body as naturally as a bird returning to its nest.

“Your Grace.”

A voice called out from behind. Rhaegar turned to see Sea Snake, a bandage wrapped around his forehead, his old face alight with a relieved smile.

Seeing his companion, Rhaegar’s heart lifted. “Your Grace, this is the Lands of the Long Summer,” Sea Snake said, his eyes shining with excitement as he cradled two tattered pieces of Dragonstone in his arms.

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