Gaemon stood at the edge of the training yard, watching as the members of the Order of the Golden Fleece efficiently and cleanly flayed a large, full-grown sheep. They worked with practiced precision, ensuring the hide was removed entirely intact.
Once the bloody work was finished, Gaemon ordered them to leave the skinned carcass in the center of the yard and step back.
With the area clear, Gaemon turned his face upward and raised a hand toward the sky.
It was a beautiful summer day. The sky was a brilliant, endless blue, dotted with a few wispy, white clouds drifting slowly toward the horizon.
Moments after Gaemon signaled, a high, piercing trill echoed from the seemingly empty heavens. It wasn't overwhelmingly loud, but the sound carried a strange, penetrating clarity.
Following the sound, the men in the yard looked up and spotted a tiny black speck rapidly descending from the blue expanse.
As the speck plummeted toward the earth, it rapidly expanded in size. Soon, the blinding sunlight caught the magnificent, shimmering expanse of platinum-white scales. The massive dragon was diving directly toward them.
No one in the yard panicked at the sight of the descending apex predator. They all knew exactly who this dragon was.
As the beast neared the ground, the tremendous downwash from its wings kicked up a swirling gale of dust, snapping the cloaks and tunics of everyone standing nearby.
"Bahamut!" Gaemon called out, his voice cutting through the rushing wind.
Hearing its name, the dragon banked sharply, circling once before hovering directly above Gaemon. With a few powerful, rhythmic beats of its massive wings, the platinum dragon touched down gently on the hard-packed dirt right in front of its rider.
Gaemon smiled and walked forward to greet his companion.
Bahamut was no longer the tiny hatchling that could fit in Gaemon's hands. The dragon was now a colossal beast. Standing before it, Gaemon felt as though he were staring up at a two-story building.
It had only been two years since the egg hatched, yet Bahamut's growth rate had completely shattered every historical record kept by House Targaryen.
According to the meticulous measurements taken by the Dragonkeepers, Bahamut was growing roughly four times faster than any other dragon in recorded history. More importantly, this hyper-accelerated growth hadn't caused any structural weaknesses or deformities. Whether it was physical size, stamina, raw strength, or the heat of its dragonfire, Bahamut was vastly superior to any other dragon of a comparable age.
With its elegant, aerodynamic build, crown of golden horns, and brilliant platinum scales, Bahamut was widely considered the most majestic and terrifyingly beautiful dragon currently living.
After just two years, Bahamut measured nearly twenty-six feet from snout to tail tip. When fully extended, the Dragonkeepers estimated its wingspan to be over fifty feet.
According to the Keepers' assessment, Bahamut was finally large enough to bear the weight of a rider.
Having confirmed the dragon's readiness with Gaemon beforehand, a team of Dragonkeepers had arrived at the yard today carrying a custom-made saddle. They were there to help Gaemon mount his dragon for the very first time.
Because Gaemon had personally hatched and raised Bahamut, the bond between rider and dragon was abnormally deep. They ate together, slept in the same room, and were practically inseparable.
Even as Bahamut grew massive, Gaemon refused to send the dragon to the Dragonpit. The beast continued to live within the walls of the Red Keep.
The senior Dragonkeepers had petitioned King Jaehaerys multiple times, urging him to order the dragon moved to the Pit for safety reasons. Jaehaerys had firmly denied every request.
The King understood that Gaemon's connection to Bahamut was fundamentally different from the rest of the family. The others relied purely on their bloodline to command their mounts. Gaemon, however, possessed the lost magic of Old Valyria; he was a true Dragonlord in the ancient sense, and true Dragonlords lived alongside their dragons.
As long as the Red Keep physically had the space to accommodate the beast, Bahamut would stay. The Dragonkeepers had no choice but to permanently assign a detachment to the Red Keep specifically to tend to the platinum dragon.
Standing before Gaemon, Bahamut lowered its massive head and let out a low, rumbling purr that sounded almost affectionate. The dragon stretched its long neck forward and playfully nudged Gaemon's chest with its snout.
A "light nudge" from a creature that size still carried the kinetic energy of a charging warhorse. Fortunately, Gaemon's physical conditioning and magical fortitude had drastically changed his body.
Though he still looked like a small, six-year-old boy, his physical density and raw strength were on par with a fully grown, battle-hardened knight. He planted his feet and absorbed the heavy impact without staggering.
Gaemon wrapped his arms around the massive snout and smiled. "Good boy. I need you to do some work today. Think you can carry me up into the sky?"
Understanding its rider perfectly, the dragon pulled its head back, tilted its snout toward the heavens, and let out a crisp, eager roar of agreement.
However, before they could take to the skies, there was one final task that required both Gaemon and Bahamut to cooperate: securing the saddle.
House Targaryen's dragon-saddling technology was highly advanced. The saddle wasn't just a seat; it was a complex system of harnesses and chains designed to secure the rider during violent aerial maneuvers and convey subtle directional commands to the beast. It was arguably more vital than a knight's saddle.
Under the guidance of the Dragonkeepers, Gaemon raised a hand and signaled Bahamut to lower its body to the ground. He kept a steadying hand on the dragon's scales, projecting a calming influence to ensure the beast didn't thrash or snap while the strangers strapped leather and iron across its back.
Perhaps Bahamut sensed that these silver-haired men shared a faint, distant scent with its master, or perhaps it simply understood they were preparing it for flight. Whatever the reason, the dragon remained perfectly still, making the complex saddling process incredibly smooth.
As the final heavy iron chain was locked into place, a grizzled Dragonkeeper in his forties stepped up to Gaemon.
"The saddle is secured, my Prince," the Keeper said respectfully in High Valyrian. "You may test the seat. If the straps need adjustment, we stand ready."
"Thank you," Gaemon replied flawlessly in the same ancient tongue.
He walked toward the dragon's right flank. Hanging down from the massive leather saddle was a sturdy rope ladder. Looking at it, Gaemon couldn't help but chuckle internally. Bahamut is still relatively small. If he grows to be the size of Vhagar, climbing up this thing is going to take half the day.
Despite the stray thought, his heart was hammering wildly against his ribs. This was his very first flight.
Whether in his past life on Earth or his current life in Westeros, the thought of mounting a mythical beast and soaring freely through the boundless sky was enough to make his blood sing with absolute exhilaration.