Eddard's consciousness felt like a drop of ink falling into a sea of liquid wildfire. Through the link established by [Animal Friend], he didn't just see Viserion; he felt the dragon's heartbeat - a heavy, rhythmic thrumming that echoed like the drums of a slow-moving army. He felt the heat radiating from the dragon's core, a primal furnace that craved meat, sky, and the scent of its mother.
But the "Mother" was gone, and in her place was a bald, shirtless man who had just thrashed it into submission.
Viserion let out a low, vibrating hum. It wasn't a roar of defiance anymore, but a sound of recognition. The white dragon nudged its horned head against Eddard's scorched shoulder, its golden eyes blinking with a strange, dazed loyalty. The "Winter Wizard" had used a method of friendship that was entirely alien to the House of Black and White, but in the brutal logic of dragons, strength was the only language that didn't require a translator.
Eddard exhaled, his lungs burning from the sulfurous air. He reached up to rub his head, only to feel the smooth, tender skin of his scalp. His hair, eyebrows, and beard were entirely gone incinerated by the backlash of Viserion's trapped fire.
"Well," Eddard croaked, his voice rasping from the smoke. "At least I won't have to worry about lice for a while."
At the edge of the pit, Salladhor Saan and Groleo stood frozen. The Lyseni pirate looked as if he had seen a god commit a petty crime. His flamboyant peacock hat was clutched in his hands, and his jaw had dropped so low it seemed a permanent fixture of his chest.
"He... he punched it," Salladhor whispered, his eyes wide. "Groleo, did you see that? He closed its mouth with his bare hands and then he punched a dragon."
Groleo didn't answer. He was busy crossing himself with gestures from three different religions, his eyes fixed on the green dragon, Rhaegal, who was currently stirring in the depths of the pit.
Rhaegal let out a mournful, muffled shriek. The "Enchanted Beef Leg" Eddard had thrown had carried a potent dose of [Stun] and [Mana Suppression]. The green dragon's wings beat weakly against the scorched earth, its bronze eyes flickering with a mix of fury and debilitating exhaustion.
Eddard stood up, his legs shaking slightly. The mana drain from the struggle and the mental bonding was immense. He looked down at Rhaegal. He didn't have the strength to bond a second dragon tonight, not without risking his own mind snapping under the strain of two separate draconic consciousnesses.
"One is enough for now," Eddard muttered. He looked at Viserion. "Guard the green one. Keep him quiet. I have a King to depose."
The white dragon seemed to understand. It turned its long, cream-colored neck toward the pit, letting out a sharp, authoritative click. Rhaegal subsided, his head resting heavily on his claws, his breathing turning into a rhythmic, smoky wheeze.
Eddard walked back toward the iron doors, his skin covered in a layer of fine grey ash and soot. He looked like a ghost emerging from the ruins of Valyria.
"Groleo, the keys," Eddard commanded.
The Admiral hurried forward, nearly tripping over the hem of his own robe. He handed the heavy iron ring to Eddard, his hands trembling so violently the keys clattered like wind-chimes.
"My Lord... Your Majesty... Your hair..."
"It will grow back," Eddard said indifferently. "Salladhor, give me your cloak. I'd rather not walk through the pyramid looking like a plucked chicken."
Saan unfastened his magnificent silver-threaded cloak without a word of protest, draping it over Eddard's burnt shoulders. The silk felt like a cooling balm against his singed skin.
As they exited the sub-basement and began the climb back toward the main levels, the sounds of the city's chaos began to penetrate the thick masonry. From the upper floors, muffled shouts and the unmistakable ring of steel on steel echoed down the central shaft.
Barristan's coup had begun.
"The Shavepue is moving," Groleo whispered, looking up. "I can hear the Brazen Beasts."
Eddard paused at a landing, leaning against a purple marble pillar. He felt a sudden, sharp spike in his System notifications.
[System Notification: Major Achievement Unlocked: Dragon Binder.]
[Target Bonded: Viserion (White Shadow).]
[Soul Power Gained: 2500 SP.]
[Physical Status: Severe Burns (Regenerating), Mana Depletion (Critical).]
[Notice: Draconic resonance has unlocked hidden trait: 'Aura of the Sunburst'.]
Eddard closed his eyes, absorbing the surge of energy. The dizziness began to fade, replaced by a warm, golden hum in his veins. He looked at his hands; the red, angry burns were already beginning to pale, the System's healing properties accelerating under the influence of the newly acquired Soul Power.
"Let's go," Eddard said, his eyes snapping open. They glowed with a faint, draconic amber before settling back into their natural grey. "I want to see the look on Hizdahr's face when he realizes his 'distinguished guest' didn't just leave early, ,he brought the fire with him."
They reached the second floor just as a group of pit-fighters attempted to barricade the Audience Chamber. The mercenaries were panicked, their brass masks dented and bloodied.
"Hero!" Eddard roared, the word carrying a magical weight that vibrated the very air in the corridor.
The pit-fighters turned, their weapons raised. But when they saw the bald, soot-streaked man wrapped in a pirate's silver silk, standing like a vengeful spirit from the depths, their courage evaporated.
"The Wizard!" one of them shrieked. "He came from the Pit! He survived the fire!"
They broke and ran, leaving the doors to the Audience Chamber wide open. Eddard stepped over a discarded scimitar and walked into the hall.
Inside, the atmosphere was a charnel house of political ambition. Barristan Selmy stood at the foot of the throne, his white cloak stained with a spray of blood. Hizdahr zo Loraq was cowering behind his high-backed chair, his scepter forgotten on the floor. Jorah Mormont and Grey Worm held the flanks, their blades dripping.
"Lord Eddard?" Barristan asked, his voice full of disbelief as he looked at the King's transformed appearance. "What happened in the dark?"
Eddard walked toward the throne, each step resonant and heavy. He stopped beside the empty seat of the Queen and looked down at the trembling Hizdahr.
"I found your pets, Hizdahr," Eddard said, a sharp, terrifying smile on his hairless face. "They were hungry. But don't worry... I fed them."
[System Notification: Political Shift: Meereenese Regency established.]
[Target Captured: Hizdahr zo Loraq (Poisoner/Traitor).]
Plz Drop Some Power Stones.
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