Last True Remnant of Old Valyria

Daeranyx POV

After completing a circle in the air above where I stood, Anarion landed with a resounding thud. At first glance, his increased size was unmistakable. It was evident to anyone who had seen Anarion two months prior when he wasn't even as large as Vhagar, but now he had outgrown the venerable Targaryen dragon. While I couldn't quantify his exact dimensions, I could certainly compare him to other dragons I've encountered. Anarion was now larger than the cream-colored dragon I saw in Volantis, yet not quite as large as the green one there.

Glancing at him once more, I noticed Anarion returning my gaze with an expression of joy and excitement. Through our bond, I could sense his happiness, yet there was another emotion mingling within it. Before delving into this new feeling, I began to search for anything unusual about Anarion. Reflecting on the ritual and observing the Targaryen Dragons more closely, I realized I may have underestimated the extent of strain Anarion was under due to his abrupt growth. After much contemplation, I concluded that Anarion might undergo some changes or require an extended rest to recuperate from this stress.

I haven't made many errors in the rituals I've performed so far, but this was a significant one. After recognizing this mistake, I began to pay more attention to my mind magic, which I had been neglecting in favor of combat. Anarion is awake and standing before me, indicating the strain isn't severe, so I've been observing for any changes in his mental behavior. If Anarion were to become more ferocious, I would need to exert more force than before in controlling him. However, it's not increased ferocity that has changed, but rather Anarion appears more tired or lethargic than usual. It seems he may require more rest and sleep than before, but this is a minor inconvenience since I only take him for a ride once a day. It won't be long before he recovers, or I find something to accelerate his recovery from this strain.

The only potential issue I foresee in the near future is if complications arise during the cannibal hunt, which would be the sole reason I might require Anarion's assistance. However, the likelihood of that is slim, as Daemon has significantly advanced in his bond with Caraxes and his dragon-riding skills. With a bit of support from Meleys and Rhaenys, they might manage without my help.

"How are you doing, my friend?" I inquired of Anarion in High Valyrian. His low growl is sufficient for me to grasp how he has spent his time here. After placing my hand on Anarion's snout, I stroked his scales and rested my forehead beside my hand. Anarion emitted a growl of happiness and contentment. Remaining in that position for a while, he then nudged back to signal he had his fill of affection. He positioned himself to allow me to quickly mount the saddle, his eyes gleaming with the eagerness to soar. With a smile, I climbed onto the saddle on Anarion's back. Once seated, I didn't need to mentally prompt him; he already knew it was time to ascend.

The control I had long missed has returned, and I'm savoring every moment. Sitting atop Anarion, I can feel his increased power. Every dragon rider knows the extent of power they wield from their bonded dragon's back. Now, perched on Anarion, I can precisely measure how much stronger he has become over these months. The magic emanating from him is significantly greater than before. These thoughts fade as we ascend above the clouds, and I focus solely on the long-awaited reunion with Anarion.

After a period of flight, I directed Anarion towards the capital, signalling it was time for me to depart Skagos for a while. I planned to return soon to build my castle here and determine the fate of the island's inhabitants. I must decide whether to send them to the North side and make this island the best habitat for all the magical animals I aim to introduce to this world, or to let them live and train them to care for the animals to the best of my knowledge. The construction of a gateway between this island and my own dimension would be deferred until I could dedicate a full day to erecting my castle here. Anarion issued a prolonged roar, as if bidding farewell to the islands. Subsequently, he soared southward with formidable strength, and I noted that his augmented size and mass had not impeded his speed in the slightest. He appears to be much quicker than ever before.

******

Anarion and I have arrived at the capital of the seven kingdoms, and the journey has taken the same amount of time as our last visit after spending over a year on Skagos. Despite the increased pace and the greater distances Anarion can now cover, we've had to pause our travels to allow him time to rest and recuperate from his strained condition, necessitating a brief respite before we continue. I am aware that his recovery won't be lengthy, yet I find myself contemplating various methods to expedite his healing as we proceed.

Anarion's thunderous roar announced our arrival, sending the people of King's Landing into a panic at his immense size. We circled the Dragonpit to find the best landing spot for Anarion. Landing in the designated open space for dragons proved somewhat challenging, but we managed. I dismounted from the saddle to the ground, gave Anarion a few well-deserved pats, and bid him farewell. Then, I made my way towards Daemon, who was staring at Anarion with wide eyes and a look of utter astonishment. Could it be that I detected a hint of fear in the eyes of the ever-brave rogue prince?

"From the look on your face, one might think you've never seen Anarion before," I said aloud as Anarion took to the sky once more. After a few seconds, Daemon tore his gaze from Anarion and looked towards me, a new light in his eyes. "Prince Daemon," I greeted him with a nod and a smile.

"It seems we consistently underestimate your capabilities. Yet, we cannot be blamed, for each time we assume you have reached your limits, you astonish us anew, Lord Drakonar," Daemon remarked, his gaze lingering on me for a minute, curiosity mingling with a trace of fear. Previously, his look was one of respect and wonder whenever I unveiled something new. However, Anarion's considerable growth is no trivial matter, even for the Targaryens, who frequently witness the new magic I reveal. "I would inquire about your methods, but it would be futile, as I have yet to fully grasp the ritual you provided my house. You claimed it was basic, yet the one performed on Anarion must be far more complex. From what I've learned from you, and my own research, such significant alterations require sacrifices, and plenty of them. I ponder on what you have sacrificed. It appears you have not forsaken the ways of Old Valyria. Not that I disapprove of such deeds."

"You learn quickly, Prince Daemon, but you seem to forget that you are still a student. Your assumption that I have not abandoned the ways of Old Valyria is utterly mistaken. I do not engage in human sacrifices like the Valyrian sorcerers. As I have mentioned, I have far surpassed them and am above performing such acts of sacrifice," I said to Daemon with a smile. Daemon's expression turned bitter as he did not receive the answers he sought, but he huffed and led me toward the horses that were being prepared to take us for a ride to the Red Keep.

We began our journey towards the Red Keep, threading through the streets amidst the varied reactions of the smallfolk. Some regarded me with awe, others with fear, but I disregarded their stares, preoccupied with the whirlwind of thoughts in my mind. Glancing at Daemon, who seemed engrossed in his own contemplations, I posed the question that had been haunting me since I left the birthing chamber where Aemma had given birth. "Prince Daemon, what are your thoughts on being displaced as the heir to the Iron Throne?"

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