Chapter 45: New Arrivals and the Gryphon's Embrace
The days following Maegor's decisive appointments in Dilora were filled with a restless energy. The administrative wheels of his new county were beginning to turn, overseen by Kaeto and his newly appointed councilors. The Dothraki, however begrudgingly, continued to build their permanent settlements, and the training of the various Myrosh military units pressed on under Barristan's unyielding gaze. Maegor, however, was keenly aware of the new assets summoned by the System, waiting to be integrated into his burgeoning power.
On a cool, clear morning, a figure arrived at the gate of the Balerion Estate, drawing the immediate attention of the guards. He was a slender man, dressed in simple, traveler's robes, but his eyes held an intensity that belied his unassuming appearance. He announced himself, in surprisingly fluent Common Tongue, as Tregos Phasselar, and stated he was "called to serve the King of the Dragons."
Maegor, alerted by the guard, met Tregos in the outer courtyard. The System's notification had described him: a Specialty Mage, an Apprentice with a focus on Elemental Fire Control. Tregos, when questioned, spoke of growing up in Braavos, of hidden studies, and a sudden, undeniable compulsion to seek out the one who bore the dragon's true flame.
"My King," Tregos said, bowing low, his voice quiet but firm, "my magic is yours. I can command the flame. I can bend the elements to your will."
Maegor studied him, his Valyrian Insight (Tier 3) assessing the mage's sincerity and power. He could feel the raw magical talent humming beneath Tregos's skin, a kinship with his own awakening. "Welcome, Tregos Phasselar," Maegor replied, a grim smile touching his lips. "Your talents will be put to good use. You will begin by exploring the potential of the dragon eggs, and assisting with the growth of Balerion. And you will begin teaching Daenerys the secrets of fire and magic."
Before the day was out, another arrival stirred the court. A knight, hardened by years of exile and battle, strode through the gates. He was tall, with a rugged, honest face, and eyes that had seen too much. He introduced himself as Ser Gareth Blackwood, a knight from the Riverlands, long exiled in the Free Cities, where he had carved out a living as a sellsword. He bore the weary wisdom of a man who had fought countless battles, but also the undimmed honor of a true knight.
Ser Barristan, who had fought alongside and against such men in his youth, immediately recognized the caliber of the man. "Blackwood," Barristan rumbled, a rare nod of respect. "Your reputation precedes you. You fought well in the Disputed Lands."
"My King," Ser Gareth said, kneeling before Maegor, his voice gravelly but resolute. "I heard the whispers of a true Targaryen. My sword is yours. My life is yours. I seek a purpose worthy of my blade."
Maegor looked at him, recognizing the Rare Hero Class summoned by the System. Master Swordsman, Tactical Acumen, Expert Instructor. Unwavering Loyalty. This was an asset of immeasurable value. "Rise, Ser Gareth Blackwood," Maegor commanded. "Your loyalty is accepted. You will join my Royal Guard, and act as a senior commander. Your experience will shape our infantry and cavalry into true fighting machines. You will be my blunt force, my tactical genius on the field."
Ser Gareth merely nodded, his eyes fixed on Maegor, a fierce, quiet devotion burning within them.
Days later, the sky above Dilora held a new, magnificent spectacle. The sound was distinct, a piercing shriek that momentarily silenced even Balerion's occasional roars. Then, a massive shadow fell over the Balerion Estate. A creature of myth, a Gryphon, its majestic wings spanning dozens of feet, its lion-like body rippling with power, descended from the heavens. Its eagle-like head, with a formidable beak and piercing golden eyes, scanned the courtyard. It ignored the scrambling guards, ignored the curious Dothraki who pointed and whispered, and landed with a powerful thump in the center of the main courtyard. It then calmly laid down, closed its eyes, and seemed to fall asleep, as if it had simply returned home after a long journey.
Even Balerion, who had been circling high above, visible from the entire estate, seemed to pause in mid-air, a flicker of dragon-like curiosity in his massive eyes. But after a moment, he merely circled once more, then resumed his distant patrol, as if accepting the Gryphon's presence as a natural, if unexpected, addition to their shared dominion.
Maegor, observing from a high balcony, felt the strong, instinctual bond with the Gryphon, the clear connection from the System. This was his Mythical Companion. He descended to the courtyard, Ser Kaeto quickly at his side. The guards, though still wary, stood aside as Maegor approached the sleeping beast.
The Gryphon remained still as Maegor neared, its massive form radiating power. He reached out, his hand gently touching its feathered neck. The Gryphon's golden eyes slowly opened, blinking once, then fixing on Maegor with a profound, intelligent understanding. It let out a soft rumble, a sound like distant thunder, and gently nudged Maegor's hand with its beak.
"Remarkable," Kaeto breathed, awe in his voice. "A Gryphon. I have only heard tales."
Maegor looked at Kaeto, a cold, calculated plan forming in his mind. Kaeto was Targaryen blood, a proven commander, and a man he trusted implicitly. And now, he had a mount worthy of his lineage.
"Ser Kaeto," Maegor commanded, his voice firm, "you are Kaeto Targaryen, a son of the Dragon's own bloodline. You are my Lord-Captain, my most trusted commander. Balerion is my mount, the symbol of my power in the skies. But I require another. Another symbol. Another winged terror to accompany the Dragon. This Gryphon, it needs a rider, a knight worthy of its strength."
He looked at Kaeto, his purple eyes piercing. "I command you, Ser Kaeto, to become its rider. To become my Gryphon Knight. You will learn to mount this Gryphon, to bond with it, and to command it in the skies. It will be your companion, your weapon, and your shield. You will fly at Balerion's side, a constant threat to those who defy us."
Kaeto's face was a mixture of stunned disbelief and fierce elation. To ride a Gryphon! It was a dream of legends. He dropped to one knee, his voice thick with emotion. "My King," he said, his voice husky, "it would be the greatest honor of my life. I will master it. I will fly for you. For House Targaryen. For fire and blood!"
Maegor nodded, satisfied. He had just gained a formidable new aerial asset, reinforcing his command over the skies. The Gryphon, a creature of legend, would be another terrifying piece in his arsenal, a living testament to the growing might of the Dragon