Bai Long stood on the cliff, filled with melancholy. He had looked down several times, only to be met with overwhelming fear.
Fly. The rope is secure—nothing will happen. He tried to reassure himself.
Turning back to seek encouragement, he met his own violet eyes, but they were clouded with fear.
Twice he had died, and yet, he was still a coward.
Gritting his teeth, Bai Long leaped.
The wind howled in his ears as he plummeted. His feet no longer touched solid ground, and panic surged through him, his mind going blank. His mouth opened in a scream as terror took hold.
Cole watched Bai Long flail wildly in midair. He could understand the fear, but unlike the dragon, he still stood on solid ground—his body remained stable.
When his consciousness returned to his own body, controlling Bai Long felt more like maneuvering a character in a game.
The rope reached its limit, jerking Bai Long to a halt. He dangled from the cliffside, swaying like a piece of meat on a hook.
Cole sighed and pulled him back up. This first attempt had been a failure.
After carefully inspecting the rope and ensuring it hadn't frayed, he prepared for another try.
This time, Bai Long didn't leap blindly. He stood at the cliff's edge, spread his wings, and launched himself downward.
He was still falling fast, still plummeting uncontrollably. He felt like a fish stranded on land—while humans needed solid ground, he needed the sky.
All this time, he had thought of himself as a human trying to learn how to fly. He assumed flapping his wings was like swimming, that balance and coordination would allow him to stay afloat.
But he had been wrong.
Flying wasn't a skill to be learned—it was the nature of dragons. He wasn't training—he was adapting.
By the third attempt, Bai Long understood.
At that moment, he was no longer Cole. He was not human. He was a dragon.
As the waves below surged toward him like roaring beasts, he leaped from the cliff, an arrow slicing through the wind. With a swift flick of his wings, he soared.
The sky, once distant and unforgiving, now welcomed him—just as a child takes its first steps, he had finally taken flight.
The white dragon ascended, but in his exhilaration, he had forgotten about the rope tied to his feet. A sudden yank pulled him downward, causing him to lose balance and fall.
This time, he did not panic.
He folded his wings, flaring them just enough to slow his descent, landing lightly on Cole's shoulder.
As his mind returned to his own body, Cole lifted his gaze to the heavens.
From this moment on, the sky belonged to him.
Retrieving the rope, he commanded the white dragon to take flight once more. His next task was to find dragonglass. Dragonstone was home to a massive dragonglass mine—he only needed a single piece.
Dragonglass, or obsidian, was as smooth and translucent as black crystal. As he soared between the cliffs, the white dragon quickly spotted the sunlight glinting off a jagged black surface. He dove toward it, finding an exposed obsidian vein.
Bai Long reached out and grasped a small shard of dragonglass—only for a chilling presence to suddenly flood his senses.
Instinct took over. He flapped his wings and shot into the air just as a snake's head lunged at him.
Good. A black serpent, its emerald eyes gleaming, coiled against the cliffside. Its scales blended perfectly with the dark rock, making it nearly invisible.
Bai Long noticed numerous seabird nests along the rock face. It must have been lying in ambush for birds.
But it had made a fatal mistake—dragons were not birds.
With a swift movement, Bai Long clamped his claws around the snake's head and slammed it against the cliffside. The creature writhed in agony. Another slam. Then another. The black serpent fell still.
Bai Long wasn't tempted to eat it. Who knew if it was poisonous?
Grabbing the shard of dragonglass, he returned to Cole. Holding the stone in his palm, Cole felt a strange warmth. Through his connection with the dragon, he sensed an unexpected fondness for it.
Did dragonglass have some kind of effect on a dragon's growth?
Curious, Cole placed the shard on Bai Long's back. Other than the warmth, there was no immediate reaction.
Then, an idea struck him.
"Bite it," he commanded.
Bai Long obediently placed the dragonglass in his mouth. His powerful teeth crushed it effortlessly. The moment it shattered, a rush of heat surged through his body, and the energy from his previous meals was instantly absorbed.
So that's how it works. Dragonglass accelerates a dragon's energy intake.
Cole's mind raced with possibilities.
If he truly was a dragon, then he could study what best nurtured his growth. He could design training regimens to strengthen his body, hone his instincts, and push himself beyond natural limits.
A self-disciplined dragon.
The mere thought of it was thrilling.
In the early stages, growth was still the priority. The discovery of dragonglass would greatly aid his development—a secret that even the Valyrians at the height of their dragon-riding dominance might not have known.
After all, how many of those rulers truly had the time or patience to study the growth and cultivation of a dragon? It wasn't as simple as raising Pokémon.
Even if the maesters of the Citadel were curious enough to research it, the dragons themselves wouldn't care. If they were lucky, the creatures would simply ignore them. If not, they'd be incinerated in dragonfire.
Now that Bai Long could fly, food was no longer a concern. The sea was teeming with seabirds and fish—more than enough to sustain him.
Cole guided Xiaobai toward the ocean. Activating the Eye of Time and Space, he scanned the water's surface, observing every movement with clarity. The moment a fish broke through the waves, Xiaobai struck, spearing it with precision before snapping it up in his jaws.
With a few fish in hand, Cole made his way back to the gathering crowd, lost in thought.
Should he take this opportunity to leave?
But where would he even go?
He could return to the Trident River Basin and continue fighting in the North under Tywin Lannister. But now that he had a dragon, did he still need to chase fame and fortune through war?
I have a dragon—why would I waste my time playing your petty game of power?
Raising the dragon was his priority now. Once the dragon matured, there would be nowhere in the Seven Kingdoms he couldn't go.
Before, he had entertained the idea of carving out his own name on the battlefield through sheer force. But the moment the dragon hatched, that dream lost its appeal.
Now, he had something far greater. He could merge his consciousness with the dragon. If he could obtain another dragon, he could control two at once, coordinating their attacks with precision.
His gaze drifted east, across the Narrow Sea.
Had Daenerys Targaryen's dragons hatched yet? Could he seize one for himself?
No. It was too soon. He was alone, and his dragon was still too young. He wouldn't stand a chance.
The Mountains of the Moon, however, could be a viable destination. There, he was already regarded as the prophesied king of the Burned Men. If he revealed the dragon, his position among them would only solidify. Once the dragon matured, he could seize the Vale, placing the beast atop the Eyrie. No one would be able to challenge him.
Or… he could release the dragon into the wild and head for King's Landing, seek out Tyrion Lannister, and continue his partnership with him.
After all, the dragon could be controlled remotely.
But there was a problem.
The white dragon was still small now, surviving on birds and fish. But as it grew, those wouldn't be enough.
Going to King's Landing would make things difficult. The dragon's presence would be impossible to hide, and once it was discovered, the city would be in an uproar. There would be no way to feed it without drawing attention.
Before he could think further, a voice suddenly rang in his ear.
"Are you Cole?"
He barely had time to turn before hands grabbed him from all sides, restraining him.
A squad of guards surrounded him.
The leading knight stepped forward, his tone firm.
"Take him to the castle. His Majesty the King wishes to see him."
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