*AEGON — THE DRAGON RANCH
The always blue mixed orange sky was smoky and hot, Voidscale — black as night, eyes still milky — sneezed a puff of grey smoke and tried to bite his own tail. Aegnis — silver-white — kept chirping loudly, hungry. Chaosfyre — red — couldn't walk straight yet and kept flopping over.
And in the middle, Aegon Targaryen, barefoot in a plain black tunic, holding the Red Dragon Katana. It was too big for this quiet moment. It hummed.
The system hovered.
> *[Training Quest: Red Dragon Katana Mastery]*
> _Objective: Survive 100 draws_
> _Progress: 0/100_
"Again," Aegon muttered.
He settled his feet. Low, wide, toes gripping the warm sand. Left hand on the crimson-black saya, right hand hovering over the snarling dragon-head guard.
Wind does not push. Wind cuts. He'd learned that watching hawks over Shipbreaker Bay.
He breathed. Deep, sharp, until his chest felt like it would split.
The hatchlings stared at him. Three pairs of eyes.
Aegon gritted his teeth.
He drew.
*Wind Breathing — First Form: Dust Whirlwind Cutter!*
His draw was invisible. The katana sang. For a second the air around him turned into a wheel of red-black wind.
_SHHHHRRRRK!_
The training post — a thick oak trunk wrapped in chain — didn't fall. It unraveled into sawdust and splinters that spun before dropping.
The gust hit the nest.
Voidscale squeaked — _kree!_ — and tumbled backwards. Aegnis chirped in panic and hid under Aegon's discarded cloak. Chaosfyre tried to roar, opened his mouth wide, and only let out a tiny hiccup of flame that died instantly.
> *[1/100]*
Aegon was on his knees, panting, arms shaking. Sand in his hair.
The three hatchlings waddled back to him, clumsy, drawn to the heat of the blade. Voidscale bumped his head against Aegon's ankle and purred, a crackling sound like coals. Chaosfyre tried to bite the scabbard. Aegnis just climbed into Aegon's lap and fell asleep.
Aegon laughed, exhausted, and scratched Voidscale's soft black head with his free hand. The katana's vibranium core throbbed under his palm, warm.
He stood. Reset his feet. Left hand on scabbard. Right hand hovering.
From the ramparts, the lava flow endlessly without rest, Aegon stood up after resting and continues
*Thunder breathing_First form :Thunderclap and flash *
Crackkk!
Weeks later..........
The news about the red wedding finally reach STORM'S END, Aegon wasn't surprised about the news, but the castle wasn't quiet everyone moved with quiet ease, not making big deal because it's very far to the location the castle.
Cortnay threw the raven scroll on the table. "The Young Wolf is dead. At his uncle's wedding. Frey cut his throat."
Aegon picked it up, frowning pretending has if he doesn't know . "Robb Stark? Why? He was winning."
"Winning?" Cortnay laughed bitterly. "He broke a vow to Frey, beheaded Karstark — he lost the North before the blade ever touched him."
"What about his mother? His men?" Aegon asked, silver hair falling over the red katana.
"Dead. All dead. Mother, wife, wolf — sewn together like a mockery," Cortnay said. "This is what happens when boys play at war."
Aegon stared at the scroll before him. "Then the north is bleeding
Cortnay looked at him hard. "No, losing., hope they survive it."