Not long after.
Outside the port of Hull.
A colossal creature covered in bronze scales, majestic and imposing, rode the gale as it thundered across Blackwater Bay.
"Faster, Vermithor!"
Aemon lay prone on the dragon's back, his face brimming with excitement at soaring through the skies on dragonback.
After a day and a night, dragon and rider had acknowledged one another.
Now, seated atop a Simple Saddle, Aemon was gradually mastering the art of dragonriding.
"With a saddle, it really is much easier."
Aemon's eyes shone, and the corners of his mouth would not stop lifting.
Today was Aunt Rhaenys's Name Day celebration, and he was already somewhat late.
But he had a good reason—it was to have the saddle fitted.
Aemon smoothed back his wildly dancing silver hair and lowered his head to admire the plainly designed saddle.
A saddle generally consisted of two parts: the Dragon Saddle and Rope Ladder.
His saddle had once been worn by Balerion, the "Black Dread," during the Conquest. The Dragon Saddle was forged from precious Black Steel, with a lifelike Three-Headed Red Dragon Sigil engraved on its front.
Beneath the Black Steel Dragon Saddle were countless specially made Rope Ladders, spread like a net over the massive dragon's thick neck and the junction of its shoulders and spine.
These specially made Rope Ladders used craftsmanship originating from Ancient Valyria. They were not only sturdy and durable, but also resistant to flames.
The workmanship and quality of the entire saddle set made it a treasure even among the forty dragonlord families.
However, during Maegor I's reign, Balerion had continued growing until the saddle gradually became unsuitable.
Coupled with Maegor I's fickle nature, he had commissioned another saddle for himself.
This Black Steel saddle had thus been left gathering dust in the Tomb Cellar