The snow had passed, and the sky cleared.
To the east, a soft dawn of pale blue and lavender broke, a sunrise The Gift and the Wall had not seen in what felt like forever. Amid the morning wake-up calls and the smoke of breakfast fires, the many vibrant hues of dawn took turns appearing, painting the horizon with color.
Because of terrain like the Wolfswood and the Lonely Hills, the soldiers who had fought in the Battle of Long Lake couldn't see the sunrise immediately. They could only watch as the sky to the east shifted through a palette of colors like some magic display, until the sun finally emerged from behind the ridgeline, bathing the world in gold.
The Gift and the Wall had seen good weather before, but under the constant tension of the White Walkers' threat, even if the sun had broken through at times, most people only remembered to hang out their blankets rather than enjoy the light with any good humor. Only now had the heavy weight pressing down on the hearts of all the Gift's soldiers and civilians finally been lifted. The first dawn after a major victory happened to be a rare clear day. What a wonderful coincidence. The survivors exhaled long plumes of white breath as they looked upon the brilliant sky, feeling as though it were a divine reward. This sunrise, they all felt, would be burned into their memory for many years to come.
The Lord Commander of the Night's Watch also enjoyed the long-absent sunlight. But unlike the common soldier, who could now live carefree with the burden lifted, he suddenly had far more to do.
After breakfasting with the Queen, who remained heavy-hearted from the loss of her dragon, he bore witness to a scene both majestic and tragic: one dragon cremating another. The lifeless corpse of the White Dragon, Viserion, slowly crumbled, burned, and turned to ash under the flames of the Green Dragon, Rhaegal, until all that remained were fire-resistant black bones and a field littered with shriveled scales.
Aegor ordered the remaining dragon bones buried and a marker raised. If a "Battle of Long Lake Memorial" were ever built, then regardless of its layout, the "White Dragon's Tomb" would surely be its most central and symbolic site. It would allow future visitors to feel the intensity of the battle firsthand and serve as a lasting reminder of how much the Targaryen Queen had sacrificed to protect the North, lending weight to her claim and authority.
Of course, that was only if she eventually won.
Daenerys had originally planned for Drogon to perform the cremation, but the Black Dragon had been shot down during the battle and fought numerous wights on the ground afterward. At the time, with danger all around, adrenaline had driven him to continue fighting. But after a night of rest, his weakened condition was obvious. Not only was he unable to fly again, but he also appeared listless and sluggish. His appetite had diminished significantly, and even his body temperature had dropped.
"Dragons like warmth. The North's climate is too cold, it's not helping Drogon recover," the Queen said, worry etched into her face. Anyone who had just lost one child and had another on the verge of death couldn't remain calm. "But he's in no condition to fly back south. We have to find a way to keep him warm."
Keeping him warm was not a difficult task. The Gift army had brought over five thousand soldiers when they marched south, and although several hundred were lost in the battle, those fallen had already been buried or cremated. Their tents and bedrolls were no longer needed. The extra furs and cloth could be sewn into a massive "blanket" to cover the severely wounded Drogon, preventing his body temperature from falling further.
"I'll give the orders at once. No need to worry. Her Grace's Black Dragon will be safe," Aegor replied quickly. He didn't dare show any delay or laziness when it came to the Queen's orders. "However... even if he can't fly, he should still be able to crawl, right? There's no stronghold in this wilderness. We can't stay here long. Could he make it at least to Last Hearth, where he can rest and recover?"
"No," Daenerys shook her head firmly. "Crawling uses his wings too, and takes more strength than flying. Drogon can't handle it right now."
"Then cover him first to keep him warm. After that, build a large sled and pull Drogon along. During the journey, Lady Melisandre and I will tend to him," Moqorro suggested calmly. "Dragons appear massive, but they're not as heavy as one might think. The Kingsroad is broad and flat, and it's layered with thick snow. Transport shouldn't be a problem."
"This..." Aegor secretly hoped Drogon would just die. That way, the Queen would be forced to stay grounded instead of flying around unpredictably. But of course, he would never dare act on that thought, nor show the slightest sign of reluctance. He nodded without hesitation. "Then this is our only option. I'll give the order now. All available resources will be used to construct the largest sled we can."
---
Perhaps fearing the two remaining dragons, or perhaps wary that Aegor, who had already pledged loyalty to the Queen, might make a reckless move, Robb Stark led the Northern army south on the second day after the battle.
Without that uncertain force in the way, the Gift army could move freely.
They had brought many supplies and logistical carts when pursuing the White Walkers. Now, with more than half of those supplies consumed, many carts and draft animals had been freed up. Using these existing tools, and gathering additional materials from the Wolfswood, a thousand men worked together to build the "dragon transport sled."
As Moqorro had said, Drogon, who had only recently reached adulthood and was still far from the size of the Conqueror's dragons, was indeed much lighter than expected. Roughly estimated, he likely weighed only two or three thousand pounds. That wasn't unmanageable. The real difficulty lay in the fact that he was a living creature, not dead cargo like grain. He couldn't be broken into pieces and loaded onto different carts. His huge, irregular body wouldn't even fit onto a large wagon that could carry over ten tons.
So the Gift army had to build a massive flatbed sled capable of carrying him whole, and then organize the manpower and animals to haul it before they could transport him anywhere.
Fortunately, even seriously injured, Drogon still responded to Daenerys's commands. As long as the transport vehicle was built, getting him aboard would not be a problem.
After a full day of trial and error with various designs, and several failed prototypes, they finally assembled a usable "super sled" similar in concept to a multi-hulled boat. A team of soldiers cleared a path through the snow ahead, dozens of oxen and horses, along with hundreds of soldiers, took turns pushing and pulling. With the improved weather, they managed to move over twenty li each day. After two full days of effort, they brought the Black Dragon back to Last Hearth.
But to Aegor's mild surprise, when they arrived outside what should have been an abandoned ruin, they found the castle had been largely restored and the gates were shut tight. Flying from the battlements was a banner bearing a white sun on a black field—the Karstarks had arrived first and occupied the keep.
(To be continued.)