The moonlight pierced the darkness of the night, illuminating a meadow in the Wild Forest at the end of the Devil's Road, where a stream five meters wide cut through the grass. In that moonlit clearing, by the stream's edge, stood a herd of seventy wild horses. Most were mounts abandoned by treasure-seekers who had come to plunder Valyrian ruins; the rest were true wild horses born in these woods. The herd rested peacefully by the water—until the silence of the night was shattered by a rhythmic "THOOM… THOOM… THOOM."
The horses neighed in terror and bolted. Thirteen of them charged toward the stream. Of those thirteen, six broke their legs on hidden pits or rocks along the bank, collapsing to the ground and screaming in pain. The rest of the herd fled toward the far side of the meadow, trying to reach the forest. All the while, the "THOOM… THOOM… THOOM" grew louder.
Halfway across the clearing, three streams of flame suddenly rained down from the sky, and three colossal white dragons revealed themselves. Some horses froze at the sight and were instantly engulfed in dragonfire.
At that moment, the dragons released the massive cages clamped to their talons with a deafening crash. Screams of pure terror rose from within the cages.
"No! We're going to die here!"
"Mother! I don't want to die, please!"
"Lord Vaegon, save us! I swear I'll serve you until my dying breath!"
"Ah, no! I'm too young to die—I haven't even kissed a girl yet!"
Atop the dragons' backs sat three riders, shouting furiously, their voices almost drowned out by the chaos below.
"Anogrion, cease fire! I said cease fire, damn you! Listen to me!"
"Vendieron, no! I know you're hungry, but control yourself!"
"You damn lizard, put me down right now! If I lose my Valyrian steel because of you, I'll skin you alive!"
The cages crashed down in a perfect triangle amid the fleeing herd. Sixteen horses were crushed beneath them, turning the ground into a lake of blood. Between the cages, ten terrified but unharmed horses neighed wildly, while six others had smashed into the bars and broken their necks. The remaining twenty-five horses of the herd were reduced to charred corpses by dragonfire.
When the three dragons finally landed, they ignored their riders and immediately began devouring the roasted horses. Their riders carefully slid down the dragons' necks, trying not to anger them further, then collapsed onto the grass the moment their feet touched the ground.
All three took deep breaths and lay there, thinking back on the five terrifying hours since leaving the city of Oros. No matter that they had come from another world—the memories of this one still dominated. They had never feared flying on dragons before… but tonight, when their mounts had ignored commands and dived for prey out of hunger, sheer panic had taken over. They had barely kept the dragons under control. In their minds, all three silently swore never to ride a hungry dragon again.
They stood up and walked toward the cages, passing rows of flames that now lit the meadow like, courtesy of their dragons.
As they walked, Vaelar's stomach growled loudly. "Guys, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Let's eat."
Darion yawned sleepily. "I'm exhausted. Too tired to bother with food. By the way, Vaegon—how are we supposed to sleep?"
Vaegon, carefully stepping around the flames, answered, "What do you mean, 'how'? The people in the cages will sleep inside them. We'll pick three guards per shift and take turns. First watch goes to Vaelar."
Vaelar immediately protested. "Why do I get first watch while you don't?"
Vaegon replied in a dead-serious tone, "Because you're the one who wants to eat. Food gives energy. That energy has to go somewhere tonight—either you spend it standing guard, or you spend it with a woman. Staying awake helps us, so don't even think about touching any woman."
Vaelar pouted miserably. "Why are there no women around? If Lady Daemira, daughter of Lord Daemir, isn't here, how am I supposed to stay awake till morning?"
That pushed Vaegon over the edge. "Vaelar, enough! I know you dislike Lord Daemir, but keep your hands off his daughter. And don't think I've forgotten—you already owe that girl an apology. How old are you to act like such a child?"
Vaelar grinned. "I'm only sixteen, Vaegon."
Darion burst out laughing. "How long have you been sixteen, Vaelar?"
Vaelar kept laughing. "A while now, Darion."
Even Vaegon cracked a smile. "Alright, kids, enough joking. Time to work. Vaelar, there are a few horses the dragons scorched but didn't eat. Hurry and butcher one before they notice. Eat with the guards you pick—those people only eat plants; a bit of meat will do them good. Tomorrow we follow the river upstream toward the road to Volantis."
As they talked, they reached the cages. The people inside flinched at the sight of them, expecting another hunt for sport. Not everyone was terrified, though—Lady Daemira, Rhaenor, Lord Daemir, and a few elders stared in fascination at the horses trapped between the cages. They had never seen any living creature besides humans.
Vaegon stepped in front of the cages. "Don't be afraid. What just happened won't happen again. We're choosing nine of you to stand watch while the rest sleep. If you're hungry, speak up—the chosen guards will bring you roasted horse meat. But no one leaves the cages tonight. Those I point to, step forward."
He selected nine people, including Rhaenor. Then he and Darion headed to sleep beside their resting dragons.
Once out of the cage, Rhaenor noticed that all nine chosen guards were boys aged sixteen or just a little older. Following Vaegon's orders, he trailed Vaelar toward the burning horse carcasses. Hearing pained neighs from the stream, Rhaenor instantly drew his sword and readied for battle. Vaelar glanced at him and shook his head.
Seeing the young guards freeze in place, Vaelar frowned. "Rhaenor, take four others and put down the injured horses by the stream. Bring the bodies back—we'll eat them tomorrow."
Rhaenor took four boys and cautiously approached the sound. At the stream, they found the six crippled horses. Sensing no danger, Rhaenor approached the nearest one and brought his sword down on its neck in a single clean stroke. Blood sprayed as the head rolled away.
The four boys, seeing it was safe, drew their own swords. They examined the strange creatures they had never seen before, then tried to imitate Rhaenor. They needed three or four blows each to sever the heads. Under Rhaenor's supervision, they butchered the bodies and carried the meat back to the cages.
Meanwhile, the remaining four young guards had already carved six roasted horses and distributed the meat to the hungry people inside.
When the nine returned, Vaelar sent all but Rhaenor and two others to sleep. To Rhaenor he said, "Stay away from the cages. If anything moves, shout as loud as you can." Then he went to sit by Aeloris's head.
Vaelar and Darion finished their watches without incident. At dawn, Vaegon took over from Darion and looked at the two remaining guards in rusty armor.
"Tell me, one by one: your name, age, and which lord you served before."
The taller, narrow-shouldered one stepped forward. "My name is Daenor, my lord. Seventeen years old. I served Lord Baegor, my lord."
The broad-shouldered one next. "Naesin, my lord. Eighteen. I served Lord Vaelman."
The last one spoke. "Aeros, my lord. Seventeen. I served Lord Beogon."
Vaegon pointed at Daenor and Naesin. "You two—go check the stream bank for other animals. If you find any, come straight back and report." Then to the unarmored Aeros: "You stay by the cages."
Daenor and Naesin ran off. Aeros took position by the cages and pulled out a small 50–60 cm bow made of fire-grape wood. Vaegon noticed and walked over curiously.
Vaegon fired questions in rapid succession: "Do you know how these bows are made? How long have you been an archer? Where are your arrows, and how do you make them?"
Aeros, thinking the lord was impressed, answered excitedly: "My lord, the bow stave is made from the roots of old fire-grape trees that no longer bear fruit. The string is made from human tendons. Arrows are straight branches of the same tree; the heads are carved from human bone or old rusty nails. I've trained with the bow since I was eleven, my lord."
Vaegon blinked. "Human tendons? Where did you get those? Didn't the people object?"
Aeros looked confused. "Why would they object, my lord? Tendons are only taken from condemned criminals."
Vaegon turned away without a word and walked toward Anogrion. Aeros began trembling, convinced he had offended the lord and would be fed to the dragon.
Vaegon reached Anogrion, reached into his storage bag, pulled out a second bag, and took out one of the long-range composite bows Darion had wished for, along with two quivers holding fifty arrows each. He returned to Aeros, who was sweating and shaking.
Vaegon handed him the new bow. "Shoot with your own bow first. Then try this one. If you outshoot your first arrow, the bow and three silver claws are yours."
Aeros exhaled in relief and joy. Trying to contain his excitement, he nocked an arrow on his small bow, aimed at a tree thirty meters away, and loosed. The arrow buried itself in the bark—decent, but nothing special.
"Now this one," Vaegon said.
Aeros felt the difference immediately—heavier, perfectly balanced, far more powerful. He drew, aimed at the same tree line, and released.
The arrow whistled through the air and struck a tree root roughly 110 meters away.
Vaegon nodded approvingly. "Impressive range even without full draw." He placed three silver claws in Aeros's palm. "As promised. The bow is yours."
Aeros's eyes shone. "My lord… this is too generous!"
Meanwhile, at the stream, Daenor and Naesin stared in awe and fear at wolves the size of horses drawn by the scent of blood.
"Daenor… am I imagining it, or are these beasts bigger than the 'horses' we saw yesterday?"
"You're not imagining it, Naesin. They're definitely bigger."
More wolves emerged from the forest. The boys decided they had seen enough and turned back. Barely twenty meters later, Daenor sneezed loudly.
The pack turned, growled, and charged.
The boys sprinted for their lives, shouting as they spotted Vaegon: "Lord Vaegon! Help! The beasts are going to eat us!"
Vaegon saw thirty-plus wolves, each the size of a horse, closing fast. He froze for a heartbeat, then roared, "Wake up! We're under attack!" and ran to rouse Anogrion.
His shout half-woke the elderly guards. Some grabbed rusty swords, others their bows, but in their panic they jammed the cage door and took one or two precious minutes to get out.
Aeros began shooting with his new bow, but he hadn't adjusted to its power yet—most arrows flew wild.
Despite their head start, exhaustion slowed Daenor and Naesin. The wolves caught them. Their dying screams woke everyone still asleep.
Vaegon reached Anogrion and stroked the dragon's snout. "Wake up, you big idiot. Danger."
Anogrion opened his eyes with a growl. Vaelar and Darion were stirring.
"Vaelar! Darion! Wolves!" Vaegon yelled—then two more screams cut the air.
He looked: part of the pack was already tearing into the boys; the rest charged the cages.
The screams enraged Anogrion. He roared, flames pouring skyward.
"No fire, Anogrion—no fire! Calm down, it's just wolves!" Vaegon shouted.
The dragon ignored him and breathed hotter flames.
Terrified Anogrion would torch everything, Vaegon bellowed, "Anogrion—go! Hunt whatever's angering you!"
Anogrion launched into the sky like a white thunderbolt.
By the time Vaegon reached the cages, Lord Daemir's archers had formed a ragged line and were loosing arrows. Rhaenor and the guards stood in front, swords drawn, shielding the archers.
Anogrion blanketed the wolves in fire from above. The surviving beasts fled in panic. Still furious, Anogrion pursued them into the forest.
When Vaegon arrived, all the archers except Aeros had scattered to examine the wolf corpses. Vaegon asked, "Aeros, why didn't you go with the others?"
Aeros snapped to attention. "You ordered me to stay by the cages, my lord. The rest went with Lord Daemir to inspect the beasts and retrieve Naesin and Daenor's bodies."
The commotion had unsettled the other two dragons; Vaelar and Darion were busy calming them.
Once the dragons settled, Vaelar stormed over, furious. "Have you lost your mind, Vaegon? They almost started fighting each other! What scared you so badly?"
"Calm down," Vaegon snapped. "Would I act like that if it wasn't serious? It was the wolves. And don't underestimate them—they were nearly the size of horses."
Darion laughed in disbelief. "You're joking. What wolf is the size of a horse?"
Vaelar grunted in agreement.
Vaegon exploded. "Do I owe you the truth? Come see for yourselves!"
He turned to Aeros. "Duty over. New orders: follow me." He marched toward the bodies, Aeros on his heels.
Watching them go, Vaelar teased Darion, "Looks like Vaegon found himself a loyal puppy. Bit fast, don't you think?"
Darion smirked. "Loyal to Vaegon? I think he's just terrified of the dragons."
Vaelar nodded. They approached the wolf corpses—four lying where Anogrion had burned them, another dragged back by the men. Vaelar involuntarily muttered, "How can wolves grow this big?"
Lord Vaenis, Lord Vaelman, and Lord Daemir emerged from the crowd, greeted the two with nods, then examined the bodies themselves. The more they looked, the more they believed Vaegon.
Darion finished inspecting and shouted to the crowd, "Stop standing around! Skin every wolf that isn't burned and butcher the meat—we're eating it for breakfast. Be careful."
He grabbed Vaelar and headed to Vaegon.
As they approached, they smelled vomit. Looking closer, they saw a puddle beside Vaegon. Pushing past the guards, they froze—then vomited themselves.
Naesin and Daenor lay in pieces: arms and legs torn off, half their faces eaten away, brains spilling onto the grass.
Vaegon stared blankly and asked Lords Beagor and Beogon beside him, "Do Naesin or Daenor have surviving family?"
Lord Beogon: "Naesin has none, my lord."
Lord Beagor: "Daenor has one younger brother, my lord."
Vaegon nodded. "Lord Baegor, you will take care of Daenor's little brother. I'm paying two gold claws as blood-price for his brother. Everyone who fought today gets ten copper claws. Now stop everything else and dig graves for these two."
He turned and walked away.
Vaelar and Darion followed silently.
Vaegon sat in the clearing Anogrion had left, buried his face in his hands, and thought. Vaelar and Darion sat beside him without a word.
After a while, Aeros came to report the graves were ready. Vaegon stood, walked to the graves, and looked at the crowd. His eyes found an eight- or nine-year-old boy crying. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, then closed it again. Instead, he took an old shovel and, with his own hands, began filling the graves.
When the earth was mounded over both graves, Vaegon left behind the first deaths of his new people and walked toward the cages to have breakfast.