The Wall at the Edge of the World

Dragonstone, the cliffside.

Cannibal crouched on the grass, his heavy body flattening the blades beneath him. His labored breathing rolled out like a scorching torrent.

"Siga~~"

"..."

One shrill hiss followed another, sending grass and dust flying in the corner.

Rhaegar lay on his side beside Pitch Black's wing, watching the two young dragons fight.

One was covered in blue-gray scales, with scarlet dorsal spines and wing membranes. Its sharp head bore no horns.

The other had purple markings on a black base, a fierce and valiant appearance, and long, curved horns.

"Siga!"

The blue-gray young dragon hissed and spat scorching scarlet dragonflame.

It struck the mottled young dragon squarely on the head, leaving it dazed and tumbling to the ground.

"Heh, you little rascals."

Rhaegar smiled and tossed out a fresh piece of longwing meat.

The two young dragons caught the scent of blood and pounced on it like hungry cats.

One bit the other, and the other kicked back with a claw.

They couldn't even eat a piece of meat in peace.

"Siga—"

Cannibal's eyelids lifted. His dragon muzzle parted, letting out an impatient growl.

The two young dragons froze at the sound, tore the longwing meat apart, and flew off with a piece each.

They were no bigger than hunting dogs, and their wings were still a little weak.

They wobbled through the air as if children were trying to carry baskets full of heavy things.

"You scared them."

Rhaegar was unhappy. He patted the membrane of Pitch Black's wing.

Like Moon Dance and Dawn, the two young dragons had hatched from eggs laid by Syrax.

Rhaenyra had named the two newborns Arrax and Tyraxes.

Like Lyanna's Wormax, they had both been named after deities in the retinue of Syrax, goddess of fertility.

Their names represented the