Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day - Chapter 628: Baelon’s Dragon III

Outside Sunspear, nestled along the coast, lay the Water Gardens—an exquisite retreat built by the late Prince Qoren as a summer haven for his children. The gardens were filled with elegant buildings, carved beams, and painted rafters. Flowers and streams intertwined, creating a tranquil oasis where warmth lingered year-round, making it feel like eternal spring.

However…

“Roar!”

A young black-and-red dragon crashed awkwardly through the gardens, its chest marked by deep scratches, spilling hot scarlet blood onto the ground. Its wings flapped desperately, its agile body twisting as it soared again, barely skimming the surface of the Water Gardens.

Zilala…

Wherever the dragon’s blood touched, the vibrant flowers and flowing streams withered instantly, leaving behind dry ravines and yellowed leaves.

“Hurry! We’re almost there!” Baelon shouted, gripping tightly as the wind rushed past him, his gaze darting nervously over his shoulder.

High in the clouds, a massive shadow loomed, its form swaying as it revealed the dark green, wrinkled skin of its folds.

“Roar!”

Vhagar swooped low, unleashing a torrent of Dragonfire from its maw.

“Move!” Baelon’s heart raced as he tugged on Iragaxys’s scarlet dorsal fin, urging the young dragon to veer sharply to the side.

Iragaxys, quick and instinctive, twisted gracefully, gliding out of the tropical paradise that surrounded the Water Gardens.

Soon, the two dragons—one small and nimble, the other immense and menacing—flew together, their wings spread wide against the sky.

…

Sunspear.

In the bustling city below, the common folk of Dorne gathered in small groups, their eyes drawn skyward as two dragons appeared overhead.

Rumble…

The dragons whipped up a fierce wind, kicking up clouds of sand that billowed in every direction.

As the smaller dragon flew past, the much larger Vhagar rose behind it, casting an ominous shadow. The Dornish citizens looked up in alarm, shielding their faces from the swirling sand and dust.

“Dragons!”

The shout echoed through the city, spreading panic as the citizens scattered in fear.

Clang!

The bell in Sunspear’s clock tower rang out, urging the people to take shelter. At the same time, soldiers clad in earth-brown armor poured from the barracks, quickly taking positions along the city walls.

It was clear—the people of Dorne were terrified, and the unexpected arrival of dragons had thrown the city into chaos.

…

“Roar!”

Vhagar’s pupils dilated cruelly as it pursued the much smaller dragon, Iragaxys, who was barely one-fifth its size. At nearly 140 meters long, Vhagar had grown into a monstrous force—only the abnormally large Cannibal could rival it.

“Roar!”

Iragaxys, desperate, twisted and turned through the air, trying to escape the gaping maw of the ancient beast behind it. Barely thirty meters long, Iragaxys was still young. Among the dragons of its generation—older ones like Moondancer, Trickster, and Tyraxes—none could match its strength. Even against the dragons of the last four generations, it was more formidable than Sunfyre or Tessarion. But twenty years of life was no match for Vhagar’s one hundred and eighty.

The two dragons tore across the desert, their flight bringing them swiftly to the Greenblood River, where the waters rushed beneath them.

Boom!

Vhagar became even more aggressive upon reaching the water. The massive dragon lunged at Iragaxys, seizing the opportunity and opening its enormous jaws.

“Roar!”

Iragaxys, unable to dodge, unleashed a torrent of black Dragonfire in defense. The explosion of black smoke and fire roared across the sky. But Vhagar, undeterred, powered through the blast, breaking through the smoke as it closed in on Iragaxys’s exposed throat.

Iragaxys’s pupils shrank with fear—there was no escape. Time had run out.

“Iragaxys!!”

Baelon, horrified, lashed out with his dragon-taming whip in a desperate attempt to intervene. But just as Vhagar moved to strike, a powerful gust of wind blew through.

Hiss!

A flash of green Dragonfire descended like a thunderbolt, slamming into Vhagar’s head. The great dragon’s jaws froze for an instant, allowing Iragaxys to slip free, narrowly avoiding death.

“Go, Iragaxys!” Baelon shouted, but his mind spun with confusion, unable to determine if the intervention was friend or foe.

Terrified, Iragaxys fled, crashing through the forest on the other side of the river, its huge body flattening the trees in its path.

“Roar…”

Vhagar, enraged by the attack, lifted its head high, bellowing furiously into the sky. Baelon glanced upward, his eyes widening as he saw a moss-green dragon shadow looming above.

Boom!

A massive old dragon appeared from the Greenblood River, its body scarred and crowned with great horns that bent backward. The dragon’s fierce vertical pupils gleamed with battle-hardened fury as it erupted from the river, duckweed and leaves clinging to its scales. Without hesitation, the ancient beast lunged, sinking its fangs into Vhagar’s thick neck.

Vhagar, caught off guard, lost its advantage. Its thick, wrinkled skin was pierced by the intruder’s sharp teeth, and foul-smelling dragon blood began to pour from the wound.

“Roar…”

In a desperate move, Vhagar, despite its bulk, performed an unexpected maneuver. It rolled over mid-air, using its hind legs to kick its attacker in the chest with a force like muffled thunder.

Boom! Boom!

The old dragon’s chest, already scarred, bore two new deep gashes that cut down to the bone. It released its grip on Vhagar’s neck and retaliated with a burst of green Dragonfire.

“Roar!”

The Dragonfire struck Vhagar’s head, and the ancient dragon roared in pain, recoiling as it fled into the clouds. A closer look revealed that the jaw hanging from Vhagar’s neck had been torn open, exposing bone beneath the flesh. Though injured, it flapped its wings and ascended, preparing for the inevitable clash that would follow.

“Roar…”

The old dragon wasn’t unscathed either. The fresh wounds on its chest dripped hot blood, staining its scales. The injuries from its battle with Vhagar had reopened, and its majestic figure was marked by pain.

When adult dragons clashed, the brutality was raw and swift. There was no playful toying, no hesitation. Their battles were quick, vicious, and decisive. Once they met in the air, it was only a matter of moments before one would prevail.

…

Lemonwood

“Huff, huff…”

Iragaxys lay on the ground, panting heavily, its chest heaving with exhaustion from the long flight across the strait. The young dragon’s once-vigorous body now trembled with fatigue.

Baelon slid off its back, gently stroking the dragon’s drooping wing. “Don’t worry,” he murmured, reassuring the tired beast. “We’re safe for now.”

But Baelon’s eyes darted upward, catching the green dragon shadow circling above. The dragon’s moss-colored scales were mottled with white and pale yellow, like an ancient beast that had emerged from the forest and lake. Its blood-stained chest gleamed with majesty, rivaling even Vermithor’s. In terms of sheer size, it slightly surpassed Vermithor.

“So, that’s the 300-year-old dragon?” Baelon whispered in awe, his eyes locked onto the creature. “The Uragax you mentioned in your letter, Father.”

Unlike Vhagar, whose age had turned its form decrepit, Uragax looked robust, with broad, powerful wings covered in creamy yellow membranes. The dragon exuded an aura of strength, but beneath it lay the wisdom and weariness of centuries.

Baelon swallowed hard, his throat tight with tension as he stared into Uragax’s amber pupils. There was no ferocity in them—only the calm of a dragon who had seen it all.

“Roar!”

Uragax let out a sharp roar, ascending into the sky to confront the intruder that had entered its territory. It would not let Vhagar go unchecked.

Boom!

A torrent of orange Dragonfire, thick with smoke, rained from the sky. Vhagar, swift and brutal, rushed forward with jaws wide open, ready to strike. Uragax countered with its own burst of fire, using the ensuing smoke as cover to disappear from the battlefield.

When it reappeared, Uragax flanked Vhagar, but the battle-hardened Vhagar anticipated the attack. The old dragon dodged and extended its talons, latching onto Uragax’s claws.

Boom!

The two colossal dragons collided in the sky, entangling like eagles mid-flight, their wings flapping furiously as they tore at each other. The roars echoed across the sky, and for a time, neither beast had the upper hand.

“Roar!”

Suddenly, Iragaxys, who had been fleeing moments before, turned back, its muzzle burning with flames.

“Dracarys!” Baelon shouted, brandishing the dragon whip in his hand.

Iragaxys rose sharply, spewing jet-black Dragonfire at Vhagar in a furious retaliation.

Boom!

The attack struck Vhagar squarely on the head. Enraged, the ancient dragon redoubled its assault, both titans clashing with a fury that sent chunks of scale and flesh falling like rain. They spiraled together, tangled in the sky, until both dragons tumbled downward like a falling compass.

Baelon dared not approach. Instead, he urged Iragaxys upward, disappearing into the safety of the clouds.

Rumble!

The two dragons crashed down simultaneously, but it was Vhagar’s massive body that plummeted into the wide Greenblood River, sending water surging on both banks. The river rose like a beast, roaring skyward with a wave high enough to drown castles.

Roar…

The Greenblood’s waters, stained with dragon’s blood, boiled, releasing plumes of steam.

Vhagar roared, its battered head breaking the surface as it hauled its thick hind legs onto the riverbank. As its massive body shook free of the water, fish, shrimp, and water plants scattered, crushed into mud beneath its enormous weight.

Vhagar’s eyes glinted with hatred as it glanced at Uragax, whose rear leg dangled limply from the sky. With determination burning in its pupils, Vhagar unfurled its wings and ascended once more, preparing to unleash another round of destruction.

The battle of blood and fire had begun again.

…

Halfway up in the air, Baelon watched as the two dragons clashed fiercely once again, a deep sense of despair rising in his chest.

“I can’t stop them. Not at all,” he thought.

Uragax had indeed intervened, stalling Vhagar’s rampage, but the battle had only escalated into a chaotic frenzy. If he didn’t act soon, the destruction would be catastrophic.

“Follow me, Iragaxys!” Baelon called out, hastily mounting his dragon and flying after the warring beasts as they soared higher above Sunspear.

At that moment, the streets of Sunspear were deserted, the citizens having retreated to the safety of their homes. Through the cracks in barred windows, they peered out, witnessing the savage battle unfolding in the sky.

“Roar…”

“Roar…”

One dragon latched onto the other’s wings, while the second tore at its opponent’s chest.

“Dracarys, Iragaxys!” Baelon’s clear voice echoed across the sky. From the distance, his smaller black dragon responded, diving in with a low-altitude glide before spiraling upward over Sunspear.

Boom!

A brilliant explosion of Dragonfire burst into the sky as Iragaxys joined the fray, turning the already heated battle into a vicious three-way melee. Orange, green, and pitch-black Dragonfire collided in the sky, splattering like wild strokes of paint across the horizon.

Sparks and dragon blood rained down on the city below, igniting rooftops and sending flames licking through the streets. The garrison attempted to fight the fires and launched arrows skyward, but their efforts were futile—the dragons were too far above.

The battle raged on from noon until dusk, the roars of the dragons shaking the very foundations of Sunspear.

“Roar…”

Finally, after hours of brutal combat, Vhagar began to tire. Physically exhausted, the giant dragon let out a deep roar and fell from the sky. As Vhagar struggled to maintain balance, one wing outstretched, it crashed into a cluster of residential buildings, destroying them but avoiding further injury.

“Roar…”

Uragax hovered above, victorious. A triumphant roar rumbled deep in its chest. It had been years since it fought such a vicious battle—perhaps not since its legendary encounter with the Dragoneater. But just as Uragax prepared to finish Vhagar off…

“Stop, Uragax!”

Baelon’s voice rang out from high above, riding Iragaxys as he called to the ancient dragon. Uragax’s fierce amber pupils narrowed in confusion, and its nostrils flared as it caught the scent of the silver-haired rider who had drawn it to this land.

“Roar…”

For a moment, Uragax glanced at Vhagar, who struggled to rise for another fight, but then hesitated. Weakened and wounded, Uragax chose to retreat. Its chest was nearly torn open, one hind leg broken, and its body covered in bite wounds.

“Don’t go, Uragax!” Baelon shouted, his heart pounding in his chest, his pale face flushed with determination. Vhagar had fallen, and the chaos was over. But there was still one dragon left to tame.

As Uragax’s cold, unblinking eyes met his, Baelon’s resolve hardened. Slowly, he climbed off Iragaxys’s back, his voice trembling with emotion. “Uragax… you are a lonely wanderer. Today, let me tame you!”

Without hesitation, Baelon swung the dragon-taming whip and leapt from Iragaxys’s back, his heart racing as he made his bold move to claim the ancient dragon.

“Roar…?”

Uragax was momentarily stunned, its amber eyes fixed on the silver-haired boy plunging from the sky.

“Face me!” Baelon shouted, eyes shut tight, as he flung the dragon-taming whip. It wrapped around the old dragon’s neck with a snap. The man and the dragon drew closer, locked on a collision course.

As Baelon plummeted, the wind lashed against his face, sharp and unrelenting. His arms spread wide, prepared to embrace either the dragon or death. Suddenly, his pounding heart stilled, and his blood ignited, surging like fire through his veins.

Then, as if touched by some divine force, Baelon opened his eyes. A flash of green fire flickered in the depths of his violet gaze.

“Roar…”

Uragax did not evade. Instead, it allowed the silver-haired boy to land on its back.

Baelon hit the dragon’s spine with a heavy thud, rolling to absorb the impact. Even so, the force was enough to crush his insides. But then, something extraordinary happened.

Hula—

Green flames began seeping from Baelon’s pores, and a shimmering, diamond-shaped dragon scale sprouted from his forehead.

“Fly, Uragax!”

Forgetting the pain, Baelon gripped the whip tightly and gave the command. Uragax’s powerful wings flapped, but the dragon did not yet realize that the whip—now glowing with green fire—had connected them more deeply than before.

Baelon’s bloodline had awakened. The ancient Valyrian Dragonlord ancestry he inherited from his father surged to life, triggered by the melee of the three dragons and his own desperate will. His body was transforming, becoming something more—something dragonborn.

“Roar…”

Uragax let out a long, low rumble. Something shifted in the ancient dragon’s heart. Memories stirred—the image of a coward who had once abandoned it during the Doom of Valyria. But now, the boy on its back was no coward. He was a warrior, forging a bond unlike anything the dragon had felt in centuries.

“Fly! Fly! Fly!” Baelon panted, each breath hot, his voice raw with determination. “Uragax, let you and I change each other’s destinies!”

Baelon was too young to fully grasp the changes overtaking him, too weak to sustain the transformation his bloodline demanded. But he knew one thing—he had to tame the 300-year-old dragon before his strength gave out.

“Roar…”

Uragax let out a mighty roar, and its colossal body lifted into the air, soaring above Sunspear and heading straight for the shimmering waves of the Summer Sea. Deep within, the ancient dragon could not deny the emotions rising within its scarred heart. The silver-haired boy had become something more—something worthy.

As they flew, Uragax’s amber pupils reflected the determined face of the boy on its back. No matter how ancient a dragon may be, time wears on even the greatest of beasts. A capable rider could share the weight of those years, easing the burden.

As dusk settled and the sun sank below the horizon, the sky burned with the fiery hues of the setting sun. Baelon, his body exhausted from the dragonborn transformation, slumped on Uragax’s back, slipping into a dazed state. His heavy eyes fluttered shut, and he reached out to touch the rough, scarred dragon scales beneath him.

They felt cold, yet warm in places—layered, weathered by time.

Drowsiness overtook him, and a soft, dreamy smile curved his lips. “You belong to me, just as I belong to you,” he whispered.

He had done it.

From this moment forward, the 300-year-old dragon was his. His companion, his partner. Uragax, the ancient wanderer, was now bound to him in an unbreakable bond.