Game of Thrones: I Am The Heir For A Day

Chapter 396: Helaena’s Prophecy

Chapter 396: Helaena’s Prophecy

Seven days later.

It was midday, and the sun was shining brightly.

The hot rays poured down, adding a stifling heat to the already humid King's Landing.

Inside the Dragonpit.

"Roar ......"

"Roar!"

In the dim environment, two unbound young dragons soared up and down, colliding like flashes of light.

One dragon, much larger, had cobalt blue scales with orange-red scales extending from its lower jaw to its abdomen, gaudy and elegant.

The other, only half the size of its opponent, had silver-white scales and golden vertical pupils, its head majestic and fierce.

These were Tessarion and the young dragon Stormcloud, bred in the Dragonpit.

"Roar..."

Tessarion moved dexterously, flapping its blue wings to fly high, ejecting cobalt blue mixed with orange Dragonfire from its mouth.

Poof!

Stormcloud bravely faced the dragonfire head-on, his silver-white scales burning with traces of scorched black.

"Roar.."

The distance closed, and Stormcloud instantly pounced on his opponent, opening his fangs to bite.

Tessarion retaliated fiercely, strangling Stormcloud's neck with one of his dragon claws and spraying dragonfire at Stormcloud's head.

The brilliant dragonfire burned brightly and struck with force.

Stormcloud hissed in shock, its golden pupils narrowing as its head withstood the blow.

Within a few breaths, the dragon's head burned to charcoal, and a pair of gray horns turned dark.

The tangle did not stop!

"Roar..."

Stormcloud flapped his wings defiantly, aiming his dragon's maw at Tessarion's head.

Its throat surged, and a mouthful of snowflake-like streaks of silver-white Dragonfire gushed out.

Boom!

Tessarion, careless and gullible, was hit squarely by the Dragonfire, letting out a hiss of pain.

Stormcloud saw its chance and bit the back leg of its opponent's locked neck, its fangs piercing the cobalt blue scales.

The scales shattered, and Tessarion let go of its claws in pain.

Stormcloud regained his free form and quickly disengaged from the mid-air battlefield.

"Roar!"

Tessarion, now truly enraged, stabilized his stance with the intention of pursuing.

Just then, a bright and loud scream rang out.

"Stop!"

The voice seemed to contain magical power. Tessarion's movements stopped, and its anger melted away like snow.

On the black stone slab, Rhaegar tilted his head and looked out, holding an ancient sheepskin book.

"Roar..."

Tessarion glanced at him, full of reluctance, and gave up the fight, retreating back into the Dragonpit in the corner to recuperate.

Stormcloud, on the other hand, landed on the ground, stretching out its shiny silver wings to reflect its handsome appearance.

"Heh, what a ferocious nature," Rhaegar guffawed, flipping open the sheepskin book to compare its contents.

The ancient book was a cherished document from Lys, recording descriptions of the Dragonlord families, including methods for nurturing young dragons and making them fight each other.

In the Dragonpit, Tessarion had reached adolescence, at thirty feet long and comparable to a elephant.

Stormcloud, still too young, was just the size of an ordinary horse, barely able to muster some combat power.

In their fight, Tessarion had the clear advantage, fighting with ease. Stormcloud, like a defiant newborn calf, bit his opponent with unyielding vigor.

Rhaegar read the pages for a while when footsteps came to his ears.

"Roar..."

First came a shrill roar.

Tyraxes's massive dragon head fidgeted back and forth, flapping its mist-colored gray wings as it flew in midair. Shackles were placed on his slender hind feet, controlled by a mossy-faced Dragonkeeper. The young dragon had a fiery temperament and was restless. If not controlled by chains, it would fly wildly and spit Dragonfire at all living things in front of it.

Rhaegar closed the ancient book and looked at the magnificent Stormcloud and the grotesque Tyraxes in succession, the corners of his mouth unconsciously curling up.

"These are valuable family resources."

Rhaenyra was pregnant with twin children and had picked two dragon eggs in advance to prepare. However, the hatching of dragon eggs depended too much on probability and was not always certain.

Of course, with the purity of Rhaegar's bloodline at the time Rhaegar had impregnated her, the talent of the two children was bound to be exceptional. It was not unreasonable to hope they would soon hatch young dragons.

On this premise, if something happened to the children's eggs, Stormcloud and Tyraxes were the first choice to tame.

When the Dragonkeeper approached, Rhaegar instructed, "Take care of the two young dragons, and keep an eye on Tessarion."

Speaking High Valyrian, he had quite the air of uttering a forbidden magic spell. The language was similar, the pronunciation similar. Since his bloodline had metamorphosed into dragonborn, some of the transcendent gestures had unconsciously changed.

"Yes Prince!" The Dragonkeeper nodded solemnly.

Apart from this aged Dragonkeeper, there were also some young Dragonkeepers of the new generation within the Dragonpit. As Rhaegar turned around, he found a familiar face in the corner.

Denys Waters.

At this time, this Dragonkeeper had cut off his silver blonde curly hair and shaved it into the uniform inch of a Dragonkeeper. His clothing became rough linen, and he held a bamboo staff with very resolute eyes.

Rhaegar asked, "How is Denys integrating?"

"Very hard working and talented," the Dragonkeeper answered truthfully.

Rhaegar nodded at his words and asked no more questions.

After the battle of Lys, Denys offered the dragon egg that hatched Tyraxes, which could be said to be a great feat. In terms of merit, he deserved to be made a knight. It seems that he didn't notice Denys's movements and detained him in the attic for too long, irritating him. When they met again, the other man had shaved his head and swore an oath to become a Dragonkeeper of his own free will.

Dragonkeeping is not a very ancient profession. The founder was Rhaena Targaryen, the Black Bride. The first group of Dragonkeepers was formed by Rhaena after she blamed herself for the loss of three of Dreamfyre's eggs.

Not just anyone can be a Dragonkeeper, but it was basically the bastards sons of a Targaryens many generations ago.

Bastards have Valyrian blood and are good at learning the common dragon-taming language made up of the higher Valyrian languages, which reduces the dragon's bad temper. This is the reason why all of the Dragonkeepers shave their heads to hide who they once were.

Denys did this, presumably because he was afraid of being silenced and offered his loyalty completely. Rhaegar didn't care much about that. However, if there is merit, there must be reward, so Denys's daughter was picked up at the Red Keep and placed beside Helaena as a female companion.

When she grows up a bit, they will find a young and capable adult to marry her to, thus blessing the child.

...

Walking out of the Dragonpit, Rhaegar took a carriage to the River Gate.

As the Dragonpit gate closed, a few loud, sharp roars echoed through the air. Rhaegar smiled and continued to study the contents of the ancient book.

The carriage moved swiftly down Rhaenys' Hill and through the crowded Silk Street. The Maidens' Day had arrived, drawing noble lords from across the realm to King's Landing and breathing new life into the majestic city.

Rhaegar glanced out the window and noticed the hustle and bustle of the various brothels. The doorways were crowded with people, their silhouettes animated in the lively atmosphere. Whether richly dressed adults or downtrodden knights, they emptied their purses to gain entry.

"Brothels are truly a profitable business; it's a shame the taxes aren't raised," Rhaegar murmured softly, his eyes glittering with a speculative light.

The character of Lys was evident in the blossoming pleasure houses and the variety of sex workers that adorned the city. Human nature's desire for such establishments couldn't be suppressed, but it could be controlled.

Crunch...

The carriage crossed Silk Street and followed a wide, prosperous avenue straight to the River Gate. Along the way, Rhaegar occasionally looked out and observed the lives of the people of King's Landing.

The most common were three types of people: nobles spending money on pleasure, merchants running their businesses, and commoners living frugally.

"There are hardly any blacksmiths to be seen..." Rhaegar's thoughts drifted as he analyzed the various professions more closely. In a city-state, merchants and smiths were the mainstream.

Lost in thought, time passed slowly.

The carriage arrived at the River Gate, where workers were busy moving and transporting goods on the pier, and many ships were moored at sea. These were mostly nobles from all over the realm who had come for the Maiden's Day, along with some cargo ships following the reopening of the canal.

Tormund, dressed in black and white robes, stood conspicuously at the pier.

Rhaegar called him over to inquire about the arranged tasks.

Tormund replied, "Five hundred naturalized craftsmen were sent to the ships and have sailed to Lys."

"Otto is very meticulous in his work," Rhaegar acknowledged.

Lys and Myr were in dire need of all types of craftsmen, making it an opportune moment to distribute the craftsman registrations.

...

Red Keep

A large number of nobles poured into the Red Keep, bringing their families and children with them. The banquet hall, the castle courtyard, and the Godswood were all packed with people and buzzing with activity.

The weather was hot, so servants brought buckets of wine and dug up ice from the icehouse. Despite their best efforts, the nobles were still sweating profusely in the heat.

This stifling weather only encouraged the nobles to drink and sing even more enthusiastically.

Alicent was busy entertaining guests from all over the realm. Amidst the hustle and bustle, sweat soaked her back, and she reluctantly went to change, her smile strained but unwavering.

...

Queen's Bedchamber

"Green... Black... Tangled..."

The young girl's murmurs floated softly, her voice ethereal. Inside the chamber, the walls were adorned with murals of men and women, while a soft Lys felt carpet lay in the center of the room.

Three little silver and blonde-haired girls knelt in a circle on the felt, absorbed in their play. Helaena, with her head bowed, calmly manipulated two balls of thread.

Beside her, two other girls, one older and one younger, remained silent, not daring to disturb Helaena in her trance-like state.

The older girl, with milky white skin, was Layla, the bastard daughter of Volantis. The younger one, about seven or eight years old, was Jasmine, the daughter of Silver Denys.

Snap--

Suddenly, Helaena clapped her hands together, pressing the tangled threads onto the felt. Little Jasmine flinched, her fleshy face turning pale.

"Shhh!"

Helaena hushed her, eyes grave. "He wants a city, and he's going to pay for it."

Layla and Jasmine frowned in unison, puzzled by Helaena's cryptic words. Despite their brief time together, they had grown accustomed to Helaena's mysterious utterances.

Crunch--

The door to the room opened, and Alicent, her face flushed from the sun, walked in quickly.

"Your Grace, the Queen..."

The two little girls hurriedly stood and curtsied.

"It's you two."

Alicent maintained her composure, glanced at her impassive daughter, and said helplessly, "You girls go out first. I need to chat with Helaena."

"Yes, Your Grace."

The two little girls gathered their toys and obediently left the room.

Helaena remained with her head bowed, seemingly oblivious to the outside world.