The Dragon Returned Across the Night Sea, Ships Awaited Departure
The sun had long since sunk below the horizon on Dragonstone, leaving only a lingering ray of light that reluctantly licked the beach, casting the shadows of the two figures on the sand even longer.
Crahas Hal finally snapped out of his shock at the fact that Daemon was fourteen, and the awe he had just suppressed was replaced by a new worry.
He suddenly remembered Daemon's words that had just awakened him. "You are the person I brought out of the Dragonstone dungeons without prior notification."
These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over him, instantly sobering him up.
Although he had sworn allegiance to Daemon, his current status was ultimately that of a prisoner of the Iron Throne of Targaryen Lineage. His own Daemon had taken him out of the dungeon without any legal procedures; if the guards of Dragonstone reported this to the King's Landing's Small Council, or even to his own prince's uncle, the Crown Prince of Dragonstone—
Prince Baelon Targaryen, the "Prince of Spring Dawn," inevitably adds to the controversy surrounding his new lord's "releasing of serious criminals."
Just as he was about to offer a warning, a series of orderly footsteps sounded in the distance, accompanied by the crisp sound of armor clashing.
"Your Highness! You're here!"
The captain of the guard left behind by Baelon on Dragonstone approached quickly with a patrol of his men, his face full of anxiety.
He had just finished his patrol when he learned from the dungeon guards who had previously watched over Crahas that the current Crown Prince Baelon's nephew, the former Crown Prince Aemon's son who had returned to the Iron Throne after being exiled, Prince Little Daemon the Prince Blackfyre, had not yet brought Crahas back. Fearing that something might have gone wrong, he immediately led his men to search for him.
But as he approached, he saw the longsword stuck in the sand, the scattered armor because Crahas wasn't wearing it, and Crahas standing beside Daemon, still breathing heavily. The worry that was on the tip of his tongue instantly disappeared, replaced by a respectful expression.
However, there were a few older, seasoned guards in the group who were not so reserved at the moment.
They had been slacking off under the guise of patrolling when they happened to catch a glimpse of the entire duel between the two— Daemon's effortless swordsmanship, Crahas's desperate offensive, and the final, breathtaking surrender ceremony. Now, unable to contain their fervor, they all crowded around.
"Your Highness! Those moves you just made were absolutely amazing!"
An old guard with a full beard spoke first, his obsequiousness undisguised, "That sword was wielded so fast and accurately, it was as if it had eyes! I've never seen such skill in my entire life!"
"Indeed!" another tall, thin guard quickly chimed in, his gaze sweeping over Crahas, but his words were full of flattery for Daemon. "And that man, sir, is clearly a top-tier warrior, yet he still couldn't gain the slightest advantage against His Highness. Your Highness, you truly are a warrior descended to earth," he said, living up to his reputation!
These guards, who used to be respectful to Crahas when they were guarding the dungeon, now bowed and scraped before him. The stark contrast between their previous demeanor and their obsequious manner shocked Crahas, who was momentarily at a loss for how to react.
Seeing this, the captain of the guard quickly added, "Your Highness's martial arts are superb; it is our honor to witness it in person."
It's getting late, and the wind is strong on the island. How about I arrange a simple dinner for you and this gentleman on the beach so you can rest a bit?"
Before Daemon could respond, the few "old hands" had already sprung into action.
Some people quickly moved clean wooden planks to make a simple long table, others hurriedly brought blankets from nearby barracks to spread on the sand, and still others rushed to the kitchen to deliver a message. Before long, the servants arrived with steaming hot food.
Golden-brown grilled fish, fragrant wheat cakes, and several jars of sealed ale were all laid out on the table with an unusually respectful attitude.
The Grey Ghost, already drawn by the aroma of food, emerged from behind the rocks and crept stealthily to the table, its little head peeking around as if trying to sneak a piece of bread, but Daemon saw right through it.
"Come back." Daemon said calmly, his tone carrying an unquestionable authority.
The Grey Ghost chirped pitifully, then drooped its head and obediently flew back to Daemon's shoulder, nuzzling his neck as if it were being affectionate.
Daemon ignored the dinner in front of him and turned to walk toward the Glutton were already waiting at the edge of the beach.
The jet-black dragon was clearly impatient. Seeing Daemon approach, it let out a deep roar and its tail swept lightly across the ground, stirring up fine grains of sand.
Crahas' heart tightened, and he instinctively took two steps forward, thinking that Daemon would take him back to Dragon's Roost Port.
After all, he was now Daemon's subordinate and should stay close to his lord. Moreover, he felt uneasy about staying on Dragonstone.
But Daemon stopped beside the dragon saddle, turned to look at him, and said in a steady and clear voice, "Take good rest on Dragonstone today."
He paused, then added, "The Dragon's Roost Port fleet will come to pick you up early tomorrow morning, Crahas. Be prepared; the battlefield ahead will not allow for the slightest slackening."
Crahas was about to speak, wanting to ask if he needed to explain his whereabouts to the authorities on Dragonstone, and if he was worried about King's Landing, but the Glutton couldn't wait any longer.
It suddenly spread its wings, and the powerful airflow whipped up sand, forcing Crahas ' words back down his throat.
Daemon flipped himself onto the dragon saddle, gripped the reins, and slung the Blackfyre across his waist, the dragon pattern on the scabbard faintly visible in the night.
He glanced down at the Grey Ghost still peering around the table and said calmly, "I'm gone."
The Grey Ghost immediately flapped its wings and took flight, landing steadily on Daemon's shoulder, its claws gripping the dragon saddle tightly.
"Roar--!"
The Glutton let out a dragon's roar that shook the night sky, flapped its wings vigorously, and took Daemon into the air.
A jet-black dragon silhouette pierced the night, its scales gleaming with a dark gold luster under the faint light of the distant lighthouse. It quickly crossed the coastline and sped towards Dragon's Roost Port, eventually disappearing into the vast night sea.
Crahas stood on the beach, gazing in the direction Daemon had gone, his brow slightly furrowed.
He glanced down at his tight-fitting clothes, then at the lavish but untouched dinner in front of him, his worries undiminished.
How will the people of Dragonstone view His Highness Daemon's release of him without prior notification?
If the nobles of King's Landing find out, will they use this as an opportunity to cause trouble?
Will the fleet that comes to pick him up tomorrow be able to successfully bring him back to Dragon's Roost Port?
Countless questions swirled in his mind, but the Glutton had long since vanished from the sea, leaving only the sound of waves crashing against the beach, echoing endlessly in the night.
Seeing that Daemon had already left, the captain of the guard quickly stepped forward and bowed to Crahas: "Lord Crahas Hal, since His Highness has given the order, I will take you to the best barracks on the island to rest after the meal, and you will be able to board the ship early tomorrow morning without any delay."
Crahas withdrew his gaze, suppressed his worries, and nodded.
Now that things had come to this, he had no choice but to trust his Prince Daemon's arrangements.
He turned and followed the captain of the guard. The banquet behind him was still set up on the beach. The heat gradually dissipated, and only the sound of the waves and the wind accompanied the island, which had witnessed submission and separation, as it sank into the quiet night.