"Hoo... hoo... hoo..."
The sea breeze swept across Dragonstone, causing the golden banners to flutter loudly in the wind.
The golden flag seemed almost alive. In one corner, the three-headed red dragon was embroidered in brilliant detail, perfectly matching the three dragons that now lived within the castle courtyard.
The courtyard of Dragonstone was filled with a strange mixture of scents.
There was the salty smell of the sea carried by the wind, mixed with the sulfurous, smoky stench left behind by dragonfire.
Fire and salt.
Two things that perfectly represented Dragonstone.
"Slow down, children."
Daenerys Targaryen stood in the courtyard, her silver hair dancing in the wind and her violet eyes filled with affection.
She tossed pieces of cooked meat into the air.
The three dragons immediately reacted.
Their heads shot upward, and they lunged for the meat.
Balerion, the black dragon, was the fastest.
His jaws snapped shut around the largest piece, and he swallowed it almost immediately.
The three dragons moved with astonishing speed.
Their long necks twisted like striking cobras as they fought over every piece of meat.
Balerion roared triumphantly after winning another piece.
The other two dragons hissed angrily, clearly unhappy about losing.
"Alright, Viserion. Don't fight with your brothers."
Daenerys quickly noticed the unfortunate white dragon.
Viserion always seemed to lose when competing against the other two, and Daenerys couldn't help feeling sorry for him.
She tossed another piece of meat toward him.
"There you go. This one is yours."
Viserion immediately snapped it out of the air.
Nearby, everyone watched the dragons with fascination.
"A miracle."
"Dragonlords!"
The return of the dragons was nothing short of miraculous.
For centuries, dragons had existed only in stories and memories.
Now they had returned to the world.
These dragons represented the union of two great houses, Baratheon and Targaryen.
They also represented the beginning of a new era.
The dragons were going to dance once again.
Everyone felt a strange sense of pride when looking at them.
However, Gendry understood something that many others didn't.
Dragons were not simply large animals.
They were proud, intelligent, and extremely willful creatures.
They could develop a powerful bond with the people who raised them, forming a relationship based on trust and dependence.
But that didn't mean they were easy to control.
Balerion was the perfect example.
If Daenerys had tried to tame the black dragon from the beginning, she would have had a difficult time.
Balerion was violent, aggressive, and exceptionally stubborn.
Gendry had been forced to tame him when he was still a hatchling.
Food and a stick had been his primary tools.
Even now, Balerion was still far more difficult to handle than the other dragons.
Dragons also seemed to favor strong warriors.
They naturally trusted people who possessed the bloodline associated with dragons and displayed powerful strength and vitality.
To a dragon, such a person was like a bright flame in the darkness.
"Come here, good boy."
Gendry stretched out his hand toward Balerion.
The black dragon immediately lowered his enormous head.
He wrapped his long neck around Gendry and began gently nibbling on his fingers.
Balerion's teeth were as sharp as swords.
Yet, despite their terrifying appearance, they never broke Gendry's skin.
The man and dragon seemed to be playing with each other.
Gendry extended his palm.
Balerion stretched his head toward it.
Gendry moved his hand away.
Balerion followed.
Soon, Gendry began running around the courtyard while Balerion chased after him.
Gendry's speed was astonishing.
He moved like a black storm, his body exceptionally agile as he constantly changed direction.
Balerion became increasingly annoyed.
The black dragon roared as he chased Gendry, his massive tail whipping back and forth.
He was the largest, fiercest, and wildest of the three dragons.
His scales were as dark as the night, while his eyes seemed to contain the flames of an inferno.
Ser Barristan watched the scene with amazement.
He had witnessed countless warriors throughout his life, but Gendry's physical abilities were extraordinary even by the standards of the greatest knights.
His speed, strength, agility, and endurance were all astonishing.
Even if Gendry chose to walk only the path of a knight, Barristan had to admit that he would stand at the very peak.
He was a storm standing on top of a mountain.
Yet, what fascinated Gendry even more was the connection between humans and dragons.
"The bond between humans and dragons is deeper than I initially thought."
Gendry looked at Balerion thoughtfully.
There was something mysterious about the relationship.
It wasn't simply obedience.
There seemed to be an invisible contract between the dragon and its master.
Young dragons could grow alongside their masters, and in turn, their masters appeared to become stronger and healthier.
The Targaryens were rarely plagued by illness.
Aerys, who had once been frail and sickly, had nearly collapsed after hearing about the death of his mother, Rhaenys.
However, after receiving the hatchling Silverwing, his physical condition had improved dramatically.
Daenerys had also told Gendry about the dragon dreams she had experienced.
In those dreams, she would be consumed by fire.
Yet when the flames disappeared, she would emerge stronger and healthier, almost as if she had been reborn.
"Ancient Valyrian Dragonlords used dragon horns and binding spells to control dragons," Daenerys said with some regret.
"But now, all we have is a single word and a whip."
"A whip can make a dragon fly," Gendry said, taking her hand.
"But we'll need to wait a little longer before we can truly control them."
He glanced toward Balerion.
"Dragons are nothing like horses. Their instinct is to attack. We'll need to study their nature carefully before we attempt anything more complicated."
Daenerys nodded.
She had always longed to fly with the dragons, just as the ancient Targaryens had done.
"Valyrian binding spells and dragon horns are incredibly difficult to find," Gendry thought.
"Are they only preserved in the ruins of Valyria now?"
Even House Targaryen no longer possessed such artifacts.
Perhaps these ancient secrets had only been passed down among the highest-ranking members of the family.
Gendry already possessed the Fire-Wielder Ring, which gave him considerable control over flames.
If he could obtain the ancient binding spells and a dragon horn, perhaps he could further strengthen his ability to control dragons.
His eyes gleamed at the thought.
If I could fly on a dragon while using my Pyromancer abilities, the combination of human and dragon would become an incredibly powerful fighting force.
That was the future Gendry envisioned.
After finishing the remaining pieces of meat, the three dragons finally became tired.
They wandered toward a quiet corner of the courtyard and curled up together to bask in the sunlight.
Their enormous bodies intertwined as they rested.
One dragon even placed its head against another's tail.
Daenerys turned toward Dacey Mormont and Brienne of Tarth.
"This place is very different from your homelands, isn't it?"
"Tarth is the most beautiful place I've ever seen," Brienne answered proudly.
She was a simple and straightforward woman, and her love for her homeland was obvious.
"Nowhere in the world is more beautiful than Tarth."
"It has magnificent mountains and waterfalls, high mountain pastures, and valleys covered in shadows."
Daenerys smiled.
"But there are dragons here."
Brienne glanced toward the resting dragons and couldn't argue with that.
Dacey then looked around the courtyard.
"Bear Island is also very different from Dragonstone, Princess."
She paused.
"Bear Island is remote, but it's beautiful in its own way."
"It's a harsh northern land, and the environment is unlike anything you would find here."
"There are twisted old oak trees, towering ancient pines, flowering hawthorn groves, and gray stones covered with moss."
"Clear streams flow through the steep hills."
"The Mormont hall itself is built from enormous logs and surrounded by a strong earthen palisade."
Daenerys's eyes filled with curiosity.
"I'd really like to see these places someday."
"You will."
Dacey smiled.
"One day, you'll ride a dragon and travel throughout the Seven Kingdoms, just like Aegon the Conqueror once did."
Daenerys's expression brightened.
Gendry listened to their conversation with a smile.
Tarth and Bear Island were indeed completely different.
One was a beautiful southern island, while the other was a rugged northern land.
Yet both were worth seeing.
After a moment, Dacey's expression became somewhat hesitant.
She finally turned toward Gendry.
"Your Highness."
Gendry looked at her.
"You can pardon Ser Jorah, but I wonder if you could speak to him again."
Dacey's voice was sincere.
"His father is getting old. At the very least, Jorah should return home once and see his father. He should listen to his advice."
Gendry nodded.
"I'll talk to him again."
He naturally understood Jorah's dilemma.
A man could fail.
But failing disgracefully was another matter.
Jorah had once dreamed of returning home wealthy and successful, allowing him to hold his head high in front of Lynesse Hightower.
His pride had been badly wounded.
Now, being forced to immediately take the black and join the Night's Watch would only leave him with a fire burning inside his heart.
Jorah Mormont was not a man who easily abandoned his ambitions.
He was stubborn and driven by his desires.
"My mother and the rest of us haven't seen our cousin in a long time," Dacey said sadly.
"I gave him the letter, but he barely spoke to me."
Daenerys couldn't help feeling sympathy.
"Poor Ser Jorah."
Gendry shook his head slightly.
"Jorah and that woman were simply too different."
"He should have married a Northern woman," Dacey replied after a brief silence.
"Someone who could wrestle with bears and face direwolves without fear."
"Instead, he pursued a Southern noblewoman because of his own vanity and desires."
Daenerys immediately understood who they were talking about.
"That woman from House Hightower?"
Dacey nodded.
Before the conversation could continue, footsteps approached.
A messenger arrived carrying a letter.
"A letter from the Hand of the King," Anguy announced.
"It's from the Tower of the Hand in King's Landing."
Gendry accepted the letter and opened it.
The contents concerned the upcoming coronation ceremony.
The ceremony would be held at the Dragonpit, and the letter contained numerous details regarding the event.
The number of guests.
The planned performances.
The arrangements for the ceremony.
Gendry read through everything carefully.
Then his eyes stopped on one particular matter.
A new surname.
Gendry slowly picked up his pen.
For a moment, he remained silent.
Then he began writing.
Gendry Targaryen Baratheon, the Liberator.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
Such compound family names were rare, but they were not entirely unprecedented.
House Martell had examples of names that incorporated both maternal and paternal heritage.
The name itself could carry history.
It could represent bloodlines.
It could represent alliances.
And sometimes, it could symbolize the birth of something entirely new.
Gendry looked at the name he had written.
This was more than a simple change of surname.
It represented the union of two powerful bloodlines.
Baratheon.
Targaryen.
Two houses that had once stood on opposite sides of history were now becoming one.
A new family was being born.
And with it, a new era was beginning.
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