Laenor's eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as dreams held him in their gentle grip. The chamber had grown dark, save for the soft glow of candles placed at strategic intervals around his bed.
Rhaenys sat beside her son's bed, her fingers gently stroking his silver hair away from his forehead. Across from her, Corlys leaned forward in his chair, his weathered face etched with concern as he studied their sleeping child.
"You're certain he's merely exhausted?" Corlys asked, his voice barely above a whisper. The Sea Snake's usual commanding presence had softened in the quiet of their son's bedchamber, his customary confidence temporarily displaced by fatherly worry.
"Maester Gerion found no fever, no physical ailment," Rhaenys replied, her lilac eyes never leaving Laenor's sleeping face. "But what happened at the cove..." She hesitated, searching for words adequate to describe what she had witnessed.
Corlys reached across the small bed to take her hand. "Tell me again," he urged. "Everything, from the beginning."
Rhaenys drew a deep breath, organizing her thoughts before speaking. "We had just returned from flying. Laena was chattering away about the experience, but Laenor seemed... different." Her fingers continued their gentle caress of Laenor's hair, an unconscious gesture of maternal comfort. "Meleys approached him, approached him, Corlys, not the other way around. She's never shown such interest in any child before."
Corlys's eyes narrowed slightly. "And then?"
"It's unlike anything I've ever seen, Corlys," Rhaenys whispered, her voice tinged with wonder and unease. "He began humming, a melody I've never heard before. His eyes... they glowed with this soft lavender light, and the air around him seemed to shimmer. And Meleys—fierce Meleys who tolerates no rider but me—she became docile, tranquil. She lowered her head before him as if in submission.
Corlys's hand tightened around hers. "You're certain it was the boy's doing? Not some peculiar behavior of the dragon?"
"I know my dragon," Rhaenys said, a hint of steel entering her voice. "This was Laenor's influence. Even Seasmoke appeared entranced, swaying to the rhythm of his humming." She paused, her gaze drifting to the window where the night sky revealed the first scattering of stars. "No other Targaryen in living memory could boast such a power."
Laenor stirred slightly in his sleep, a small whimper escaping his lips. Both parents froze, watching as their son's face contorted briefly before relaxing once more into peaceful slumber. Rhaenys brushed her fingers against his cheek, relieved to find it cool to the touch.
"It must be something deep within the Targaryen blood," Corlys mused, his mind already calculating possibilities and implications. "Some ancient magic of Old Valyria, perhaps, reawakened in our son."
"Whatever it is, it drained him completely," Rhaenys said. "He collapsed immediately afterward. If I hadn't caught him..."
"Magic always has a price," Corlys said softly, he had seen in first hand in Asshai. He leaned closer, lowering his voice further. "We must keep this a secret, Rhaenys. From everyone, even from Laena for now, though I suspect she's already seen too much."
Rhaenys nodded slowly. "I've sworn Maester Gerion to secrecy, though I told him little of what truly occurred. He believes Laenor merely fainted from excitement after his first flight."
"Good," Corlys said. "The fewer who know, the better. If word reached the Red Keep..." He didn't need to finish the thought. They both understood the dangers of appearing too powerful, too unique in the eyes of the crown.
"We'll observe him closely," Rhaenys agreed, her protective instincts flaring. "Help him understand this gift, whatever it may be."
"Or burden," Corlys added grimly "We don't yet know which it will prove to be."
They fell silent for a time, watching their son's chest rise and fall with each breath. The candlelight flickered across Laenor's delicate features, casting his silver hair in gold.
A soft knock at the door interrupted their silence. After a moment's hesitation, Corlys rose to answer it, opening the door just enough to see who stood in the corridor.
"My lord," came a servant's hushed voice. "The dragon Seasmoke is causing quite a disturbance at the gates. The guards aren't certain what to do."
Corlys exchanged a glance with Rhaenys. "Even in sleep, the dragon senses him," he murmured. To the servant, he said, "Tell the guards to stand down. Allow the dragon into the outer courtyard, but no further. Post no men nearby, they'll only agitate him further."
As the servant hurried away, Corlys returned to his seat beside the bed. "Another peculiarity to add to the growing list. I've never heard of a dragon so bonded to its rider that it would approach the castle walls."
"Seasmoke is different," Rhaenys said. "Their connection has been unusual from the beginning."
Outside, Seasmoke's distant keening floated on the night air, a mournful sound that seemed to pierce the stone walls of High Tide. Laenor shifted in his sleep, turning toward the window as if responding to the dragon's call.
"When he wakes," Corlys said, his voice firm, "we must begin teaching him control. Whatever this power is, he must learn to master it rather than be mastered by it."
"He's only three namedays old, Corlys," Rhaenys protested. "Barely more than a babe."
"And already he can influence dragons with a song, my love" Corlys countered sharply. "We cannot afford to wait. The power will not remain dormant simply because we wish it so." He reached across to touch his son's small hand, his weathered fingers engulfing Laenor's. "Better he learns under our guidance than discovers it haphazardly, perhaps at a moment of danger or distress."
Rhaenys's shoulders slumped slightly, acknowledging the truth in her husband's words. "I had hoped for a more ordinary childhood for him, at least for a few more years."
"Ordinary?" Corlys raised an eyebrow, a hint of his usual wry humor returning. "With Targaryen and Velaryon blood? With a dragon that hatched for him before he could even walk? Our son was never destined for ordinary, my love."
A small smile tugged at Rhaenys's lips despite her concern. "No, I suppose not."
x_________________________________x
As Laenor gradually came to awareness, his dreams that had held him captive began to fade, leaving only fragments behind, flashes of lavender light. He felt the softness of his bed beneath him, the weight of blankets across his small body.
I'm in a bed?
The familiar shapes of his parents came into focus beside him. Their faces wore expressions he could clearly recognize as relief and concern.
"Kepa," he murmured, his voice small in the quiet room. "Muna."
Rhaenys leaned forward immediately, her cool hand finding his forehead. "Laenor," she breathed, relief evident in her voice. "How are you feeling, sweetling?"
Corlys shifted closer, his large frame casting a shadow across the bed. "Are you well, son?" There was a tightness to his father's voice that Laenor rarely heard.
Laenor blinked up at them, trying to organize his thoughts. His body felt strange, as if he'd been sleeping for a very long time. "I'm okay," he said after a moment's consideration.
As if in contradiction, a loud rumble emerged from his stomach. Laenor felt heat rise to his cheeks as his parents' gazes dropped to his middle.
"I'm hungry though," he admitted, one small hand moving to rest on his belly.
Corlys's face broke into a smile, tension draining from his shoulders as he let out a laugh that filled the chamber. "I'll call for some food," he said, rising to his feet. "A hungry boy is a healing boy, as they say."
While his father spoke with someone at the door, Laenor tried to piece together what had happened. Why was he in bed? Why did his parents look so worried? The last thing he remembered clearly was getting off Meleys, the exhilarating feeling of soaring above the cove...
A servant arrived with a steaming bowl of broth. Laenor sat up with his mother's help, eagerly accepting the spoon she offered. The warm liquid soothed his throat and filled his empty stomach. He hadn't realized how famished he was until the food was before him.
As he scraped the last drops from the bowl, he noticed his parents exchange a look. They settled closer to the bed, and the air in the room seemed to grow heavier.
"Laenor," his mother began, her voice gentle, but her lilac eyes were piercings, "do you remember what happened with the dragons? At the cove, after your flight?"
The spoon stilled in his hand. Laenor's brow furrowed as he tried to recall. There had been something... music? A strange feeling in his chest, like the sea was inside him, rising and falling. Meleys had been there, and Seasmoke too, and they had looked at him with such strange eyes..
"I don't know, Muna," he said truthfully. The memories slipped away like water through his fingers. It all felt dreamlike, impossible to grasp. And yet, something whispered at the edges of his mind, a name that seemed to resonate within his very bones.
Nereid Kyrie.
He didn't know what it meant or why he knew it, but the name felt important, ancient. Like it belonged to him somehow.
"There was... singing," he added hesitantly, looking down at his small hands. "Not me, but... inside me? And the dragons..." He trailed off, uncertain how to explain what he couldn't understand himself.
Corlys and Rhaenys exchanged another look, this one more weighted than before.
"The dragons listened to you," Rhaenys said carefully. "Even Meleys. Do you remember that?"
Laenor nodded slowly. "They were... happy? Seasmoke felt happy." He placed a hand over his heart. "I could feel it here."
"And how did you feel, Laenor?" Corlys asked, leaning forward. "When the dragons were listening to you?"
Laenor's face scrunched in concentration. "Big," he finally said. "Like the ocean. Like I could touch the sky." His small fingers spread wide in the air, trying to capture the sensation. "But then I got very, very tired."
"That's why you've been sleeping," Rhaenys explained, brushing his silver hair back from his face. "You used a great deal of... energy."
"Magic," Laenor said suddenly, the word emerging before he could consider it. "Was it magic, Muna?"
His parents' silence confirmed what he somehow already knew. A mixture of excitement and fear bubbled up in his chest.
"Am I in trouble?" he whispered, eyes widening.
"No, of course not, my little dragon," Rhaenys said softly, her hand cupping his cheek. "You've done nothing wrong."
Corlys moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. "What you have, Laenor, is a very special gift. But with special gifts come special responsibilities."
Laenor nodded solemnly, relief washing through him. He wasn't in trouble. The knot in his stomach loosened, but something in his father's tone made him sit up straighter.
"You have to be very careful when using this magic," Corlys continued, his voice dropping to a whisper as if the walls themselves might be listening. "It's very dangerous, my dear one. Using it made you so tired you slept for nearly a whole days."
Laenor's eyes widened. "A whole day?" He hadn't realized so much time had passed. No wonder his stomach had growled so fiercely.
Rhaenys nodded, her expression serious. "Magic always demands something in return, Laenor. If you use too much at once, it could harm you."
"Could it..." Laenor swallowed hard, a new fear taking shape. "Could it hurt Seasmoke too?"
"We don't know," his mother admitted. "That's why we need to understand it better, together. Safely."
His father leaned closer, his eyes intense. "And you must promise not to tell anyone about your powers, Laenor. Not your sister, not the servants, not anyone."
"Not even Maester Gerion?" Laenor asked, confused. Maester Gerion knew everything.
"Especially not Maester Gerion," Corlys said firmly. "The fewer people who know, the safer you will be."
Laenor didn't fully understand why his special gift needed to be a secret, but the gravity in his parents' faces told him this was important. "I promise," he said, his small voice carrying the weight of his conviction.
Outside, Seasmoke let out another cry, closer this time. Laenor felt a tug in his chest, a yearning to be reunited with his dragon. "Seasmoke is worried about me," he said, turning toward the window.
Rhaenys and Corlys exchanged glances again.
"How do you know that?" his mother asked carefully.
Laenor shrugged. It seemed obvious to him. "I just feel it. Here." He tapped his chest again. "He wants to make sure I'm okay."
Corlys rose from the bed. "Then perhaps we should let him see you. Can you stand, son?"
Eager to see his dragon companion, Laenor pushed back the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His bare feet touched the cool stone floor, and for a moment, dizziness swept through him. His father's strong hands steadied him immediately.
"Slowly," Corlys cautioned. "Your body is still recovering."
With his parents' help, Laenor made his way to the window. Standing on tiptoe, he peered out into the courtyard below where Seasmoke's silvery form paced anxiously, smoke curling from his nostrils.
The moment Laenor appeared at the window, the dragon stilled, amber eyes locking onto him. Seasmoke's head tilted, and Laenor felt a wave of relief that was not his own wash over him.
"He's happy now," Laenor said, smiling. "He knows I'm awake."
As if in confirmation, Seasmoke let out a gentler sound, more purr than roar, and settled onto his haunches in the courtyard.
"Tomorrow we'll begin," Corlys said, a hand on Laenor's shoulder. "We'll help you understand this gift of yours, how to control it. But tonight, you need more rest," Rhaenys added, guiding him back to bed. "More food, more sleep, and then we can start learning together."
As Laenor allowed himself to be tucked back under the covers, a mixture of excitement and apprehension filled him. He had magic, real magic, and it had something to do with dragons. But it was also dangerous, and had to be kept secret.
"Will I be able to fly on Seasmoke again soon?" he asked, already feeling sleep tugging at him once more.
"Soon enough," his father promised. "But first, we need to make sure you're strong enough to control your magic. No more accidents like at the cove."
Laenor nodded, his eyelids growing heavy. As sleep began to claim him again, a name whispered through his mind once more.
Nereid Kyrie.
x_____________________x
In the weeks that followed, Laenor found himself under constant supervision. His mother watched him during his daily lessons with Maester Gerion, her lilac eyes vigilant for any sign of the strange power manifesting again. When not with his mother, his father took over, guiding him through histories of Valyria and the known world that most children his age would never comprehend.
The lessons with Maester Gerion had intensified considerably. What had once been simple exercises in recognizing letters had evolved into complex readings about the histories of the great houses of Westeros. The old maester could scarcely contain his excitement as Laenor devoured text after text, his small finger tracing along the words with practiced ease.
"Remarkable," Maester Gerion muttered one afternoon as Laenor finished reciting a passage about Aegon's Conquest. "Simply remarkable. I've never seen a child grasp concepts so quickly."
Laenor felt a twinge of embarrassment as the maester praised him yet again. The truth was, reading in this language came surprisingly naturally to him. Common Tongue shared many similarities with English, and with the mind of a thirty-two-year-old special forces operator trapped in this child's body, the lessons were less challenging than they should have been. Still, he maintained the façade of a precocious child, knowing that the truth would be far too difficult to explain.
"He takes after his mother," Lord Corlys said from his position by the window, pride evident in his voice.
Laenor suppressed a smile. His parents' delight in his precociousness was a blessing. In this medieval world, a child displaying such advanced abilities might have been viewed with suspicion or fear. Instead, they celebrated his rapid development, attributing it to good breeding rather than questioning its source.
His small body absorbed information like a sponge, retaining details that even his adult mind might have struggled with before. Maps, histories, family trees, all of it clicked into place with surprising clarity. Even High Valyrian, with its complex conjugations and tenses, came to him with an ease that left Maester Gerion speechless.
"Perhaps we should begin arithmetic tomorrow," the maester suggested, closing the heavy tome they'd been studying. "Though I suspect you'll master that just as quickly."
Laenor nodded, careful to maintain the appropriate level of childlike enthusiasm without revealing too much of his adult mind. "Yes, Maester. I would like that very much."
Later that evening, Laenor sat in his father's solar, a massive book about the Doom of Valyria open before him. The thick tome nearly covered his entire lap, his small frame dwarfed by its size. His father watched from across the room, a small smile playing at his lips as his not-yet-three-year-old son pored over texts meant for scholars thrice his age.
The only true disappointment in these weeks had been the restriction on visiting the cove. Seasmoke remained close to the castle, often visible from Laenor's window, but direct contact had been limited to supervised visits in the courtyard. No flights had been permitted since the incident, despite Laenor's frequent requests.
His sister Laena, however, had been allowed to continue her dragon rides with their mother. Each morning, Laenor watched from his window as they departed for the cove, a knot of jealousy forming in his stomach as Laena waved goodbye, her excitement palpable.
"It's not fair," Laenor had complained to his father after the third such morning. "Why can Laena go and not me?"
Corlys had knelt before him, placing large hands on his small shoulders. "Because, my son, we need to understand your gift before you can safely be around the dragons again. What if you lost control? What if you hurt yourself worse next time?"
Laenor knew his father was right, but the separation from Seasmoke was becoming physically painful. The bond between them seemed to stretch like a taut rope across the distance, vibrating with tension.
"I can feel him," Laenor said one night as his mother brushed his silver hair before bed. "Seasmoke. He misses me."
Rhaenys's hand paused mid-stroke. "How does it feel, this connection?"
Laenor considered the question carefully. "Like... like when you're underwater and you can hear sounds from above. Muffled, but there." He touched his chest. "Sometimes I think I can feel what he feels. Is that normal, Muna?"
"No," she answered honestly. "It's not normal. But then again, neither are you."
Rhaenys studied her son's earnest face for a long moment before making a decision. "I'll speak with your father. Perhaps it's time to allow Seasmoke closer access. The separation seems to be causing you both distress."
True to her word, the following morning brought a change to their routine. Laenor stood in the castle courtyard, practically vibrating with excitement as servants cleared the area of unnecessary personnel. His father stood beside him, one hand resting on his shoulder.
__
"Remember what we discussed," Corlys said, his voice low and serious. "No singing, no humming. If you feel anything strange, anything at all,you tell me immediately, and we end the visit. Understood?"
Laenor nodded vigorously, his silver hair bouncing with the motion. "I promise, Kepa."
When the gates opened and Seasmoke entered, Laenor gasped audibly. In the weeks since their separation, his dragon had undergone a remarkable transformation. The once-small creature now stretched nearly twenty-five feet from snout to tail tip, his body more muscular and defined. Most striking were the new horns that had emerged, curling elegantly around his face before extending into sharp points that gave him a regal, almost crown-like appearance.
"Seasmoke!" Laenor cried, breaking free from his father's grasp and running toward his companion.
The dragon lowered his massive head, amber eyes blinking with what could only be described as joy. A rumbling purr vibrated through his chest as Laenor threw his arms as far around the dragon's snout as they would go.
"You've grown so much," Laenor whispered, his small hands running over the new ridges and scales that had developed. The connection between them surged, warm and familiar, filling the hollow space that had formed during their separation.
As Seasmoke nuzzled against him, Laenor felt a peculiar sensation, like a current of energy flowing between them. The dragon's emotions washed over him in waves, joy, relief, and something deeper that Laenor couldn't quite name.
This connection feels stronger than before, Laenor thought, pressing his forehead against Seasmoke's scales. It's like I can almost hear his thoughts.'
"He missed you terribly," Rhaenys observed from where she stood beside Corlys. "Dragons form deep bonds with their riders, but this..." She trailed off, shaking her head in wonder.
Laenor barely heard her. He was lost in the overwhelming feeling of completeness that had returned with Seasmoke's presence. The dragon's amber eyes studied him intently, as if searching for changes in his small rider.
You're different too, Laenor thought, running his hands along the new ridges of scales. We both are.
A memory flickered through his mind, lavender light, a melody that seemed to rise from the depths of the sea, dragons swaying in harmony to his command. The images were fragmented but growing clearer with Seasmoke's proximity.
"Laenor?" His father's voice broke through his reverie. "Are you well?"
Laenor blinked, realizing he'd been silent for several moments, lost in communion with his dragon. "Yes, Kepa. I'm fine." He turned to look at his parents, noting the concern etched across their faces.
Seasmoke rumbled low in his throat, a sound that vibrated through Laenor's small body. The dragon's tail swished across the courtyard stones, and Laenor felt a sudden urge to climb onto his back, to take to the skies and leave the confines of High Tide behind.
"Can we fly?" he asked, turning hopeful eyes toward his parents. "Just around the courtyard? Please?"
"Absolutely not," Corlys said firmly. "Ground visits only, Laenor. We discussed this. Until you are six years old you can't ride Seasmoke"
Disappointment crashed through him, and Seasmoke let out a small growl in response, as if sharing his rider's frustration. The dragon's head rose slightly, amber eyes narrowing as they fixed on Corlys.
"Perhaps," Rhaenys suggested, her lilac eyes brightening with an idea, "I could take Seasmoke up on a flight while Laenor watches from the battlements. That way, Seasmoke gets his exercise, and Laenor maintains their connection safely."
Laenor's heart sank at the suggestion. The thought of watching someone else, even his mother, riding Seasmoke felt fundamentally wrong, like a violation of something sacred. "No!" he protested, his small hands clutching tighter to Seasmoke's scales. The dragon echoed his distress with a rumble in his chest.
Rhaenys stepped back, surprised by the vehemence of his response. Her eyes widened slightly as she studied her son's face.
"I mean," Laenor said, trying to moderate his tone, "Seasmoke wouldn't want that. He... he only wants me." Even as he spoke the words, he knew them to be true on a bone-deep level. The bond between them was exclusive, possessive in a way he couldn't fully articulate.
Corlys crouched down to meet Laenor at eye level, his face stern but not unkind. "Then what do you suggest, son? We cannot risk another incident like at the cove."
Laenor chewed his lower lip, thinking hard. He needed to come up with a solution that would satisfy his parents' concerns while also addressing Seasmoke's needs, and his own desperate longing to connect fully with his dragon.
"What if..." he began slowly, "what if we practice here? Not flying, just... being together. Maybe I can learn to control my gift better if I spend more time with Seasmoke." He looked hopefully between his parents. "You could watch me. Make sure nothing strange happens."
His father's brows drew together in thought, the lines around his eyes deepening as he considered the proposal. Rhaenys moved to stand beside her husband, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder.
"It might be worth trying," she said quietly. "Controlled exposure could help him master whatever this is, rather than letting it emerge unpredictably."
Laenor held his breath as his parents conducted one of their silent conversations, communicating through subtle changes in expression that he had learned to recognize but not quite interpret.
Very well," Corlys finally said, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "Three times a week, you may spend one hour with Seasmoke in the courtyard. Always supervised, always within these walls." He held up a finger in warning. "At the first sign of that lavender light or any singing, we end the session immediately. No arguments."
Relief flooded through Laenor so intensely that he nearly sagged against Seasmoke's head. "Thank you, Kepa! Thank you, Muna!" He beamed at them, unable to contain his excitement.
Seasmoke seemed to sense the change in atmosphere, letting out a pleased rumble that Laenor could feel vibrating through his entire body. The dragon's tail swished across the courtyard stones, narrowly avoiding a stack of barrels.
"Careful with that tail," Corlys admonished, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "He's growing larger by the day, it seems."
As if to demonstrate his increasing size, Seasmoke stretched his wings to their full span, casting a shadow over the entire courtyard. The silvery membranes caught the morning light, turning them almost translucent.
He's beautiful, Laenor thought with fierce pride. And he's mine.
A distant screech drew their attention skyward. Meleys circled high above High Tide, her red scales glinting like rubies in the sunlight. Laena sat perched on her back, barely visible at this distance.
Seasmoke's head snapped up, tracking the other dragon's movement with intense focus. Laenor felt a surge of something through their bond, not quite jealousy, but a restless yearning to join them in the sky.
Disappointment crashed through him, and Seasmoke let out a small growl in response, as if sharing his rider's frustration. The dragon's head rose slightly, amber eyes narrowing as they fixed on Corlys.
"Seasmoke," Laenor whispered, placing a hand on the dragon's jaw. "It's alright. We'll fly together soon."
To his parents' visible surprise, the dragon immediately settled, lowering his head once more to nuzzle against Laenor's chest. The moment of tension passed as quickly as it had arisen.
"Remarkable," Corlys murmured. "He responds to your voice as if he understands every word."
"He does understand," Laenor said simply, absolute certainty of this. More than anyone realizes, he added silently.
As the visit continued, Laenor found himself increasingly aware of subtle changes in Seasmoke. The dragon's growth was the most obvious transformation, but there was something else, a sharpening of awareness in those amber eyes, a new intelligence that seemed to evaluate everything around them with keen interest.
"Kepa says I have a gift," Laenor whispered to Seasmoke, his lips barely moving. "Something to do with dragons and singing."
Seasmoke blinked slowly, his nostrils flaring as he exhaled a warm breath that ruffled Laenor's silver hair.
"Did you feel it too? When I sang?" Laenor continued, his voice dropping even lower. "Did it... change you somehow?"
The dragon pressed his snout gently against Laenor's small chest, right over his heart. A strange sensation bloomed there, warmth spreading outward like ripples in water. For a brief moment, Laenor thought he felt something else, a distant echo of words that weren't quite words:
Always together. Never apart.
Laenor gasped, pulling back slightly to stare into Seasmoke's eyes. "Did you just...?"
A distant screech drew their attention skyward. Meleys circled high above High Tide, her red scales glinting like rubies in the sunlight.
Seasmoke's head snapped up, tracking the other dragon's movement with intense focus. Laenor felt a surge of something through their bond, not quite jealousy, but a restless yearning to join her in the sky.
The dragon lowered his gaze back to Laenor, and in that moment, something passed between them, an understanding, a promise. Laenor felt it settle into his chest like a physical weight, both comforting and demanding.
"I think that's enough for today," Rhaenys said, her voice interrupted the moment. "It's time to conclude the visit.. "Seasmoke needs to return to the cove, and you, my little dragon, need to continue your studies with Maester Gerion."
Laenor reluctantly stepped away from Seasmoke, knowing better than to argue. The dragon seemed equally reluctant to part, stretching his neck to maintain contact with Laenor's small hand for as long as possible.
"He can stay in the outer courtyard," Corlys suggested, surprising both Rhaenys and Laenor. "Just for today. The boy has been separated from his dragon long enough, and clearly, the distance has been difficult for both of them."
Laenor looked up at his father with shining eyes. "Really, Kepa?"
Corlys nodded, his stern expression softening slightly. "Really. But he must remain in the courtyard, and you must attend to your lessons. Understood?"
"Understood!" Laenor agreed eagerly, already feeling lighter at the prospect of having Seasmoke nearby.
As they walked back toward the main keep, Laenor couldn't resist glancing back every few steps to ensure Seasmoke was still there. The dragon had settled himself comfortably in the center of the courtyard, amber eyes tracking Laenor's movement with unwavering attention.
I'll come back as soon as I can, Laenor promised silently, hoping somehow the message would reach his companion. And maybe tonight, I'll try to understand this connection between us better.
The thought both thrilled and frightened him. Whatever power lay dormant within him, this Nereid Kyrie that had whispered its name into his dreams, it was becoming harder to ignore. Like the tide being pulled by the moon, Laenor felt himself drawn inexorably toward discovering its secrets.
Nereid Kyrie, he thought, testing the strange name in his mind. What are you?
As they reached the entrance to the keep, he paused, turning back to look at Seasmoke one last time.
The dragon's gaze met his across the courtyard, intense and knowing. For just a moment, Laenor thought he saw a flicker of lavender light reflected in those amber depths.
We'll figure it out together, he promised silently. Whatever this power is, whatever it means, we'll face it as one.
Then Rhaenys's hand was on his shoulder, guiding him inside, and the connection faded like mist before the morning sun.
x_______________X
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