The Dark Kraen
- LETTURE 496
- Voti 57
- Parti 52
The mountains cracked and trees fell from their roots as a dragon darker than coal, with eyes that told of madness and pain broke from the mountain.
She rose higher than forty men, with a wingspan double her own length. Her whole body was covered in pitch-black scales except for her back, which held gems of a thousand colors and
She breathed a flame dark as shadow that burnt forests, causing many to freeze or run in fear.
This was the mother dragon, and death was her companion.
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The last dragon was thought to have died in fire. But in the far North, something older wakes in frost. Whispers of an ice-born beast spread like wildfire across the Narrow Sea, dismissed by lords and kings as drunken fancy. Yet Daenerys Targaryen dreams of a man with eyes the color of winter, a stranger whose presence bends her fate away from chains and into the jaws of legend. As khalasars splinter and crowns begin to tremble, the game of thrones is no longer only played in fire.
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