Baelor's Dragon-Taming Journal, Part Two

"Come with me, Illygas!"

The boy's shout echoed across Dragonstone, carrying a hint of unyielding resolve.

Boom—

Vhagar let out a low growl, circling overhead again and again, her mountain-sized body casting a vast shadow.

Her deep, cloudy vertical pupils were filled with sorrow and the cold indifference that followed loneliness.

No one knew her pain. She could only release her emotions with mournful cries each night.

The young dragon's attack had awakened the battle lust buried in the bones of the old Conquest-era dragon.

"Siga!"

A black-and-red dragon suddenly burst out from the East Coast, spewing Pitch Black dragonflame at the old dragon's eyes before swiftly gliding along the sea.

Boom—

Caught off guard, Vhagar turned her head aside as the blast struck her skull. Black smoke and sparks rose from her thick, wrinkled hide.

One little trick after another finally enraged the old dragon, already on the verge of losing control.

"Raaah—"

Vhagar roared like thunder, her broad, hole-riddled wings blotting out the young dragon.

Baelor saw it clearly and immediately gave the order: "Head for the Gullet, quickly!"

The enraged old dragon was unstoppable.

He had to find a way to control the riderless old dragon and tame a worthy dragon of his own.

"It's nothing more than snatching a chestnut from the fire."

Baelor steeled himself, already prepared to die if he failed.

He could go without a dragon, lose the Iron Throne, or even throw away his frail, miserable life.

But as long as he lived, he had to prove himself.

A battle-tested Adult Dragon, one capable of fighting in wars both north and south, would wash away the shame of being dragonless.

"Pick up the pace, Illygas!"

Rider and dragon flew across Blackwater Bay, passed Driftmark, where ships came and went, and burst through