THE HOUSE OF DRAGON: THE FIRST AGE OF TARGARYEN

CHAPTER 9

The girl ran through the deserted forest, her small figure darting between the twisted shadows of trees. The moon hung high above, casting a silver glow on her white hair as it streamed behind her. Every breath was ragged and sharp, but she didn't falter. Behind her, the faint echoes of screams and shouts still lingered—the aftermath of a battle she could never forget.

Far in the distance, the faint glow of flames danced, the battlefield still burning. Amongst the scorched earth and fallen men lay the massive, broken form of a dragon, its wings limp, its once-fearsome roar now silenced forever. Blood and fire had claimed it, leaving only a lifeless husk.

But the girl kept running, clutching something precious against her chest: four dragon eggs, their fragile forms cradled protectively in her trembling arms. The weight was heavy, but she didn't let go, even as her legs burned and her feet bled from the harsh forest floor.

Branches tore at her cloak, and thorns snagged at her skin, leaving angry red welts on her pale flesh. Yet she pressed on, pushing through the underbrush until she broke through the trees and stumbled to a stop at the edge of a wide, rushing river. The waters were dark and cold, reflecting the eerie light of the moon.

She dropped to her knees on the muddy bank, gasping for air, her entire body trembling. The eggs slipped from her grasp, resting gently on the ground before her. For a moment, she stayed there, motionless, shoulders heaving as if the weight of the world had finally crushed her.

Then she looked up.

The moonlight bathed the river in a ghostly glow, casting long shadows across the shore. Her eyes were bright, glistening with unshed tears as she gazed at the eggs—the last remnants of a creature that had been magnificent, powerful, and free. Now all that remained was this fragile legacy.

A faint, pulsing heat suddenly flared in her chest, startling her. She stared down in shock as a light began to flicker beneath her skin, spreading from her hands and up her arms. Her breathing quickened, but there was no fear in her eyes. Instead, she watched in stunned silence as flames—brilliant, golden-red flames—ignited along her fingertips, licking up her limbs and shoulders.

The fire was alive, wrapping around her like a lover's embrace. It roared brighter, casting a radiant glow across the riverbank, illuminating the girl and the dragon eggs in a halo of light. But the flames did not burn. They flowed over her skin like liquid fire, seeping into her very being, as if something deep within her had awakened.

The air shimmered with heat, the forest around her awash in a sea of shifting shadows and flickering firelight. The girl's form glowed brightly, her hair seeming to catch the blaze, shimmering with a molten hue. Even the eggs seemed to respond, their surfaces glowing softly in the presence of the flames.

And then, as if the fire itself could feel her grief, it surged outward in a blinding flash, engulfing her entirely.

For a heartbeat, the entire riverbank blazed like a second sun. The trees seemed to bow under the force of the heat, their branches trembling in the fiery wind. The flames swirled and danced, wrapping around the girl and the dragon eggs in a wild, furious storm of light.

Then, as quickly as it had come, the fire began to fade.

The flames died away, leaving the girl kneeling alone on the shore, her skin still faintly aglow. Her hair, once a stark white, now shimmered with a hint of fire's warmth, streaked with subtle hues of gold and red. Her eyes, bright and intense, shone like twin stars in the darkness.

Slowly, she rose, gathering the dragon eggs back into her arms. The fire's touch lingered, a faint glow clinging to her form, casting eerie shadows across the riverbank. But she was steady now, her movements sure and unyielding.