Bringing the Dawn

LIII.

Jaeron Targaryen

The Northern Camp near Ashemark, 300 AC

The sun was beating down on him. The sheer heat from it bordering on uncomfortable as there was no breeze to break it away. Skin not liking it for obvious reasons. Even though he is a Targaryen, he was always going to a Northerner at heart. In the North, heat like this was unheard of. Heck, he doubted if it was normal anywhere it was that bad. Milky white skin which had slowly turned brown from being outdoors so much from travelling through the Riverland's and the Westerland's, but where it was brown before there was now a faint tinge of pink. A soft itch breaking through as he scratched the area in question and looked around him.

The sand was as soft as freshly fallen snow. So pale in colour it would pass as white to many. Not to him though, he could see it was just a very pale cream in shade. Kneeling down to pick up a handful of it and enjoying the warmth that came from it as he slowly opened his fingers to let it sift through and land on the ground once again. Where was he? They weren't close enough to the coast for there to be sand, and the only place he had seen sand as such was the two times he had gone to Dorne. But he couldn't be in Dorne, could he? Had Rhaegon gripped him in his talons like he had done the Mountain and flown there through the night? If his dragon had done so, the camp would be in a massive panic. He had to find a way back.

Jaeron let out a loud whistle and waited a few minutes. Hoping to see a flash of silver or blue but none came. Nor was there the feeling of wind in his face as either dragon was landing and flapping their massive wings. Fear beginning to settle in now as it became obvious that wherever he was, he was stranded. Closing his eyes for a few moments as he took a few deep breaths and trying to work out what to do. Firstly, he needed to find out where he was. Second, he needed to find out how he got here. Lastly, he needed to find out how to get back to the camp. Looking around him again to take in what was in front of him. A couple of sand dunes, trees that he had never seen before, and pale coloured sand everywhere.

He jumped as he felt something touch his foot, looking down to see what it was and once again only seeing sand. Grumbling under his breath as he leaned down to feel around and feeling scales. Digging deeper and noticing it was cylindrical in shape and with a sharp tug grabbed what it was and yanked it free. The snake hissing in anger and barely dodging out the way before it struck his face. Thinking quickly by using his spare hand to grab it by the neck so it was locked in its position and seeing a small drop of what he assumed to be venom dripping from one of the bared fangs. Walking over to one of the trees and placing it on one of the branches before promptly running back a few metres in case it struck at him again. Deep orange eyes burning deep into his soul.

So he walked.

Walked for what felt like hours. The heat bearing down on him to a point where it wasn't even uncomfortable any more. Skin that had been tinted pink earlier now a bright pink and already noticing blisters forming where his skin was exposed. He passed nothing other than trees and sand. Not a town, not a castle, not even so much as a person. A few times he had stopped and whistled in the hope either Rhaegon or Lyrax would hear but it was of no use. He was alone. In a place he knew nought. His throat was beginning to become parched and Jaeron knew if he did not find a water supply soon he would not last in this heat for much longer.

If only he could fine some type of plant, because at least then he knew he would be close to a water supply.

He walked. Again for what felt like hours. Heat blaring down on him and desperately trying to ignore how painful his skin was as it was blistering open now and how dry his throat was it was almost painful to even breathe. For a brief moment, his fingertip touched one of the forming blisters before grimacing in disgust as it burst and a sticky whiteish-yellow liquid trickled down from it. Already knowing doing that would be no use to him. Where in seven hells was he? Had it been minutes? Had it been hours? Had it been days? Had it been longer? Was this what it felt like to lose ones mind?