𝐒𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐍 ( 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. )

chapter twelve.

( ACT II; the age of the dragon. )
⟵ ◊ ⟶
chapter 12: the liberation of vulnerability.

THOUGH dreaming, Vaegon felt the utter disparity of whatever he was to face in the dark, oncoming winter clouds. He was on dragon-back, where he clung to a larger-than-real-life Rhaellor, his mount letting out a guttural snarl in the direction of the storm that they were facing, wings pounding. The sight of the ominous darkness, the roaring winds, and the biting cold that he could somehow feel in his dream sent shivers of terror through him. The stark sense of doom filled his being the longer he remained aware of his nightmare.

Unable to figure out what he was headed toward, they continued to fly forward until inevitably entering the chaotic snowstorm of clouds. He swatted away snow and ice that pelted his face, shielding himself the best he could as Rhaellor continued pushing through the storm's denseness, wings flapping loudly.

Amid his efforts to shield his face, he saw something that shook him. Glowing, blue, beady eyes appeared in the near distance of the haze, seeming to shine through the blizzard. They faced directly toward Vaegon, where he clung to Rhaellor's back. Their gaze penetrated his mind, consuming his senses with even more terror and uncertainty of their origin. His heart seemed to lurch in his throat as a cry of terror filled him.

Vaegon woke up instantly, sitting erect from where he'd been lying on his pillow cot, still in his tent in the Unsullied guarded camp where he'd fallen asleep earlier in the night. Not in the blizzard storm on dragon-back and no glowing eyes gazing into his mind.

He was sweaty, his hand running up from the upper portion of his bare back to his hair. Trying to control his breathing, he pulled away the thin linen sheet he'd been covered in and braved his elbows on his knees.

Cool air. He needed a walk. Staying in his tent would likely send his tired mind directly into the troubling nightmare he'd just escaped from.

After pulling on his boots and slipping on a low-cut cotton shirt, he wandered into the night to find relief from the troubling scenes that had plagued his rest. He put the blade on his hip as an extra precaution before wandering into the balmy air of the night.

The Unsullied guarding his tent immediately snapped to attention as he exited, where they would normally proceed to follow him where he needed to go. Instead, Vaegon tapped the blade on his hip, signaling he was confident enough to be alone. And so, the Unsullied stayed where they were, allowing him to wander into the night alone.

The sky was particularly clear, the moon bright in contrast to the hundreds of visible stars. He hoped the presence of such a calm night would offer him the peace he needed to sleep before the morning, but unfortunately, it came with its heat and sheer brightness. Tomorrow, they would be arriving at Mereen to face whatever opposition the slaver city would impose on them. He needed to be rested once they got there.