Chapter 34 - Chapter 34: Teaching Dragons a Lesson

"Khaleesi, something's happening!"As dusk settled over the Red Waste, the blazing furnace of the horizon finally sank beneath the dunes. The sky transformed into a deep, velvety red, and shadows stretched across the sand like dark fingers. The horsemen stirred from their slumber, emerging from their sleeping bags to eat a simple meal of biltong and mare's milk. They resumed their work, returning to the pit where the dragon bones lay.Their first task was clearing the ashes left by the cremation of the ancient dragonlord. Initially, it was a minor affair. Both the demonic remains and the cursed Valyrian dragonlord had been reduced to charred shards in the flames, their flesh and sinew consumed entirely by fire. Even if some latent virus or other unknown malady had once threatened the area, it had surely been eradicated by the intense heat.Encouraged by this realization, the horsemen leapt into the pit, their bare hands sifting through the remnants of ash and sand. To them, it was little different from Drogo's funeral pyre, a moment of awe tempered by practicality.Soon, one horseman raised his soot-stained hands, holding a palm-sized, jet-black iron plate aloft. "Khaleesi! I've found a piece of iron! I think it's a relic of the dragonlord."Dany approached and took the artifact. Jorah washed it carefully with sand, revealing its intricate details. "This is Valyrian steel," he said. "It bears a dragon sigil and ancient runes. Our suspicions were correct. This plaque must have been a form of identification, much like the Hand of the King's brooch in Westeros."Dany turned the plaque over in her hands. It was slightly heavier than she expected, barely covering her palm, reminiscent of her new 6.5-inch Huawei phone—similar in weight but far larger in impact. Valyrian steel, she knew, was essentially ordinary steel in chemical composition. But the forging process infused it with a rare magic, making it nearly indestructible. Weapons crafted from it could pierce enchantments, even slay White Walkers.The craftsmanship on the plaque was exquisite. On the front, a massive dragon, wings poised for flight, clutched a gleaming sword in its claws. The engraving captured every scale, every jewel on the sword's crossguard. Runes circled the dragon's perimeter, but even Dany, fluent in the most authentic Valyrian scripts, could not decipher them.The reverse side of the plaque depicted a crude mountain peak, the lines rougher than the front, yet relief and depth were apparent. At its summit, a wisp of smoke or perhaps a tree seemed to rise, though the carving was so crude that even Dany could not be certain."If the dragon represents the Dragon King himself, perhaps the sword is buried nearby," Dany exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement. She gestured to the others in the pit, urging them to dig carefully.Hours passed, the moon rising high in the sky. The horsemen dug four or five meters into the sand, even reaching the water table, but found nothing. Jorah shook his head. "Escaping Valyria was a blessing in disguise. He could hardly have returned for this sword. Even if it existed, a weapon of that size would be as massive as Ice, the Stark greatsword."He described Ice to Dany: a blade wider than a palm, black as smoke, taller than Dany herself. She blushed slightly—at fourteen, she was already above average in height at roughly 1.6 meters. A head taller, even under two meters, meant the sword would tower over her at nearly 1.8 meters."That long… could anyone wield it?" she asked, curiosity piqued."Eddard Stark does," Jorah said dryly. "Every year he chops dozens of heads. Decades of practice have honed his skill. He is almost the living experience points for greatsword mastery."Dany nodded in agreement. A two-handed greatsword required strength, skill, and years of practice—clearly beyond the reach of any dragonlord fleeing Valyria.By midnight, the horsemen had unearthed over twenty jet-black dragon bones from the sand, varying in length. The longest measured over ten meters, while the shortest barely reached Dany's waist. Many showed fractures, evidence that the dragon had been gravely injured and had crashed to the ground."Enough for now," Dany clapped her hands. "There are enough dragon bones here to craft a scimitar for every man in Kales.""Your Highness," Jorah cautioned, "dragon bone is only suitable for hilts, not blades. Mixing it with ordinary steel is a waste. Outside of Valyrian steel, it serves little purpose in weapon crafting.""You've said dragon bone is valuable," Dany countered."It is," Jorah admitted. "But surely, wealth alone isn't the goal here?""Who could ever have too much money?" she replied, waving her hand casually.Before leaving, Dany had the dragon skull buried under a small sand mound—a treasure she alone could claim. Without distinctive markers, the site blended into the plain's many similar hills. Over time, wind and sand would bury even the wooden posts and rocks she'd placed."Big Black, remember this," she murmured to her black dragon. Dragons possessed intelligence, but it was often crude compared to humans. Yet Dany had discovered something remarkable: dragons had a profound sense of direction, accessing a kind of spirit state or dragon dream, connecting directly with her mind.In these moments, she could sense the dragon's thoughts, almost like a sixth or seventh sense. Even when abandoned, her dragons could locate her with uncanny accuracy. She had once tested this, walking miles in a random direction, yet the dragons found her without fail."Ser Jorah," she asked on the way back to the cavalry, "did the Targaryens have ways to make dragons smarter? Big Black is… too stubborn.""Dragons are naturally unruly," Jorah replied. "Black dragons are slightly easier, but green and white dragons… nearly impossible. I know little of distant maesters or magical studies.""You are connected to the Hightower family," Dany reminded him. "They control the Citadel. Surely you could have learned something."Jorah shook his head. "I had no interest then, nor now. Knowledge of dragons… that's not in my purview."The journey back to Baiyun City was uneventful. Two days later, they arrived safely with the dragon bones.In the weeks that followed, Dany exercised her dragons in the cool mornings and evenings. As they grew, from the size of small cats to Pekingese-like creatures and beyond, their appetites expanded. Sand lizards, scorpions, and desert snakes no longer satisfied them.Dany resorted to using food as motivation for study. Lessons were intense. In math class, she demonstrated elementary arithmetic to the black dragon in a dragon dream state. In Chinese class, she vocalized the words, transmitting meaning through their soul connection. Physical education was brutal: striking their scales with a wooden stick, watching as some broke like eggshells, then seeing the smoke-like white healing energy rise from the wounds.The black dragon, connected to her spirit, responded best, though still reluctantly. The white and green dragons were far more obstinate. By a month old, the spiritual link with them was largely gone. Attempts to teach Chinese, math, or physical education failed. Once, striking the little white dragon drew a spray of fire onto her wrist, burning her skin with blistering heat. She healed in days, faster than normal, likely due to her bond with Black Dragon and the magic of fire.Dany noted the similarity to past experiences. When she had married Drogo, her inner thighs were raw from horseback travel. After entering a dragon dream, her wounds had vanished overnight, leaving her as strong and agile as a native centaur girl.(End of Chapter 34)---