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In the aftermath of the miraculous events, Aelora was taken to the maester for a thorough examination. The Targaryen family, still awestruck by the sight of the unburnt princess and the three-headed dragon, waited anxiously for the maester's assessment.

The maester, a seasoned healer and scholar, carefully examined Aelora, checking for any signs of burns or injuries. Much to everyone's relief, Aelora appeared unscathed, her skin untouched by the flames that had raged around her. The maester, however, couldn't suppress a sense of amazement at the unprecedented nature of the situation.

As Aelora emerged from the maester's chambers, the small three-headed dragon remained nestled in her arms, its golden scales reflecting the subdued light of the corridor. The Targaryen family, a mixture of worry and fascination etched on their faces, surrounded Aelora, eager for an explanation.

King Viserys, standing at the forefront, addressed the family with a tone of both solemnity and wonder. "My kin, what we have witnessed today is a rarity—a convergence of magic and destiny that sets House Targaryen apart. The appearance of this three-headed dragon is a sign, a symbol of favor from the gods. It tells us that our bloodline is as potent as ever, that the ancient bonds between Targaryens and dragons endure."

The family members exchanged glances, absorbing the weight of King Viserys's words. The three-headed dragon, an entity that defied conventional understanding, became a living emblem of the Targaryen legacy. Aelora, still holding the dragon close, looked toward her family with a mixture of gratitude and humility, recognizing the profound significance of the moment.

As they moved through the corridors of the Red Keep, the unburnt princess and her three-headed dragon became the subjects of hushed whispers and awe. The Targaryen family, while grappling with the mysteries that surrounded them, couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and affirmation in the words of their king—a belief that the gods had bestowed upon them a symbol of strength and resilience in the form of this extraordinary dragon.

In the dimly lit chamber, Aelora reclined on the sumptuous bed, still processing the extraordinary events of the day. The three-headed dragon, a marvel of scales and fire, nestled snugly in her arms. Its golden scales shimmered in the gentle flicker of candlelight, casting a warm glow that bathed the room in an otherworldly ambiance. Aelora couldn't help but marvel at the ethereal connection that seemed to bind her to the creature.

The middle head, exuding an air of regal authority, captured Aelora's gaze. As their eyes met, a wave of subtle understanding washed over her—an unspoken pact forged in the crucible of shared experiences. The dragon's intelligent gaze conveyed a silent reassurance, acknowledging the unique bond that now united them.

On the left, the second head displayed an insatiable curiosity, its eyes darting toward the entrance as people moved about, Aelora felt herself drawn into a mental dance of exploration, the dragon's fascination with the world echoing in her thoughts. A symbiotic connection blossomed, expanding her awareness to realms beyond the physical.

The right head, a sentinel of protection, emitted an aura of vigilance. Aelora sensed the dragon's watchful stance, a silent pledge to guard against potential threats, she felt the creature's defensive posture, a guardian prepared to shield her from the unknown.

As Aelora studied the dragon, the mental connection deepened, intertwining their thoughts in a dance of consciousness. Fragments of the dragon's memories flowed into Aelora's mind—ancient landscapes, skies ablaze with dragonfire—melding seamlessly with her own. It was a tapestry woven from the threads of shared experiences, an intimate merging of two minds.

Amid the ambient sounds of the castle—the distant murmurs, the soft crackle of candles—the dragon and Aelora found a lullaby that ushered them into the realm of dreams. With a gentle sigh, Aelora closed her eyes, and the dragon responded in kind, nestling even closer. The three heads adjusted in a tender embrace, each one finding its place in a tableau of silent communion.

A storm in the north | cregan starkWhere stories live. Discover now