Young Griff strode into the main hall of Storm's End, brimming with confidence.
The first thing he did was seize Edric Storm.
After learning how Stannis had hatched the Silver Dragon, he had long since made up his mind.
He would have a dragon of his own, too!
Right here in Storm's End, with king's blood!
Jon Connington hated the Baratheons to the bone and tacitly permitted this madness.
Commander Harry, however, had a shifting look in his eyes, and no one knew what he was thinking.
Young Griff ordered the soldiers to build a huge pyre in the main courtyard, place the reddish-brown Dragon Egg Fossil at its center, and then bind the struggling, sobbing Edric Storm on top.
"I am your king. This is an honor. Your blood will awaken a true dragon!"
Young Griff shouted at Edric, trying to convince him, and trying to convince himself.
But his voice trembled slightly with excitement.
The fire was lit.
Edric's piercing screams instantly tore through the skies above Storm's End. The sound was filled with such utter agony and terror that many of the watching soldiers and nobles went pale and turned away, unable to bear it.
Ser Connington squeezed his eyes shut.
He hated the Baratheons, but even he could not watch this cruel scene.
Even some of the Dothraki stopped their clamor and silently watched the flames devour that young life.
The fire burned all night.
Young Griff stood a short distance away, staring unblinkingly at the dragon egg in the heart of the flames, waiting for a miracle.
Longing mingled on his face with increasingly obvious irritation.
Yet when dawn came, the flames gradually died and the pyre turned to ash, the dragon egg still lay there quietly, cold, dull, and lifeless.
Apart from its surface