20 | A Dance of Brothers

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CHAPTER TWENTY
A D A N C E O F B R O T H E R S

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The sultry air hits her face, staining her cheeks with cool, seaside droplets.

Beneath her, Karnax twists and turns in the air, his heavy limbs cutting through the brisk atmosphere with quiet ease. The deep, resonant beat of his wings reverberates through her, a steady rhythm that feels as though it could outlast the world itself. The salt-stained wind whips at her hair, sending dark tendrils flying in all directions, and the horizon stretches endlessly before her—a vast expanse of churning grey waves and mist-shrouded coastlines.

She leans forward slightly, her gloved hand brushing the ridged scales of his neck. His great head dips momentarily in acknowledgement, the low rumble in his chest carrying through her saddle. She knows he can sense her mood—dragons always do.

Her grip around the reins tightens.

Viserra exhales deeply, letting the weight of her thoughts dissipate into the open, night sky. She could lose herself in the vastness of it all, the way the ocean and sky blur together into an endless shrouded canvas. But there is no respite here—only the heavy drumbeat of her dragon's wings and the memories she cannot seem to escape.

Karnax tilts his body slightly, angling toward the coastline as a distant shape begins to emerge through the haze.

The dragonkeepers had been wary of letting her out at this hour. They knew her mother did not allow for her children to linger outside the castle walls, especially at night.

Viserra did little in heeding their call.

'The tides are still and the wind is clear,' she had told them. 'You needn't worry for me. I won't go far.'

She kept to her word.

Kind of.

The coastline looms larger as Karnax slowly descends, his wings carving powerful arcs through the air. Her thoughts churn like the waves below. Every beat of his wings carries her closer to the shape that materializes on the horizon—a cluster of jagged rocks crowned by the towers of Dragonstone.

Her mount lands on the rocky beach with a graceful thud, his talons digging into the slick stones. The spray of the waves reaches them even here, and Viserra tightens her cloak against the damp chill. She slides from the saddle, her boots crunching against the rocks as she steadies herself. The keep looms in the far distance, its dark walls rising like sentinels against the restless sky.

The fresh air fills her lungs as she strides forward, the rhythmic crash of the waves a steady counterpoint to her thoughts. Karnax lingers behind her momentarily before settling down on the broad mountainside, stretching out his scaled limbs with a heavy sigh.

Quietly, Viserra walks along the coast, allowing her gaze to travel along the broad coastline. The night seems strangely alive, though still quiet and serene. She enjoys the stillness of the moment, the rush of the wind, the sound of distant waves.

She has missed this, she realizes. Though she has not found it within herself to near the sea for a long while, the sight before her now fills her with reminiscence. A gentle familiarity. Almost sweet.

The ocean stretches out before her, vast and unyielding—a mirror of her own predicament. Each step feels lighter than the last, the weight of the castle and its expectations falling away, if only for a fleeting moment.

She steps closer to the coastline, until the water brushes against her feet. She lowers herself and settles her palm neatly atop the surface, feeling the cool sensation as it lingers against her skin. Her fingers move feebly, as though awaiting something. The smell of salt and foam and sulphur lingers in her nose. She can almost taste it.

𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗗 || Cregan StarkWhere stories live. Discover now