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SLW Chapter 47 : A Great Dragon.
🕑 Added 2025-03-22 21:34:01 +0000 UTCAeron exhaled slowly, his breath misting against the inside of his dragon-shaped helmet. His gaze stayed fixed on the mountain ahead, the source of the monstrous roar still echoing in his bones.
“I need to get inside there somehow.”
His voice was quiet but resolute. Whatever was waiting for him at the heart of this cursed place, he had no intention of backing down.
He turned, eyes narrowing as they fell on the scattered corpses of the black wyverns he had just slaughtered. Their bat-like wings lay limp, slick with blood and shadow, and their coal-black scales gleamed dully under the faint, eerie light. For a moment, Aeron tilted his head, considering.
“I think I can fly using them...” His lips curled into a smirk beneath his helmet. “Even if they’re not that big.”
Without hesitation, he strode toward them, the heels of his boots crunching against the broken earth. Dark energy coiled at his fingertips as he stretched a hand toward the fallen beasts
“Arise.”
The ground trembled. Shadows surged like black fire around the corpses, and then they moved, or rather their new shadowed form did.
One by one, the shadow wyverns rose, their eyes now burned with cold violet light. Their wings snapped open with a bone-rattling whoosh, and they let out low, guttural growls that rumbled through the air.
Aeron stepped closer to the largest one, its black-scaled body flexing as it adjusted to its new existence. With a swift motion, he leapt onto its back, the creature easily supporting his weight. He leaned forward, fingers curling into the rough ridges along its neck.
“Good. Now…” He gestured toward the mountain peak, toward the gaping maw at its summit, a black hole that seemed to swallow even the faintest light. “Take me there.”
With a powerful beat of its wings, the wyvern surged upward, dragging Aeron into the sky. Several others followed a shadow flock, circling beneath him like dark specters.
The wind tore at his armor, but even as he ascended, the oppressive darkness of the ShadowLands remained. There was no open sky here, no stars, no sun. Just the endless void hanging over this forsaken place.
Aeron let out a breath, his violet eyes scanning the horizon.
“Even here in the sky… it’s still pretty dark.” His voice was thoughtful, almost distant. “This place is unreal… No wonder nobody returns once they set foot here, assuming they manage to tread this far..”
His wyvern let out a low hiss as it ascended higher, carrying him toward the gaping chasm at the mountain’s peak. The hole was massive, wide enough to swallow a castle whole, and as he neared it, an acrid heat brushed against his skin beneath the armor.
Aeron peered down into the abyss, and his heart gave a slow, heavy thump.
It was huge, a cavern carved out by something older and more terrifying than mere nature. Faint molten rivers glowed far below, casting a crimson hue on the jagged black stone. The air hung thick with the scent of sulfur and ash.
But it wasn’t the size of the cavern or the heat that stole his breath.
It was the shadow a shape that dwarfed everything else.
The shape moved, slow, deliberate and the faint crimson glow glinted off scales darker than midnight. Wings, larger than any ship’s sail, shifted slightly as the beast stirred.
A massive, horned head lifted from the darkness, and a pair of burning emerald eyes flared to life.
Aeron’s eyes widened, his pulse quickening.
“…By the gods...” he whispered, voice edged with awe.
Aeron hovered in the air for a while, the wings of his shadow wyvern beating steadily beneath him as he descended deeper into the volcanic chasm.
Even through the oppressive darkness, his violet eyes gleamed like twin beacons, scanning the black abyss below. But then he felt it.
A tremor. A weight on his very soul.
Aeron’s breath hitched as an overwhelming presence swept over him, a primal, crushing force that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. It wasn’t just power. It was authority. Something ancient. Something wrong.
Then it moved.
A massive shadow shifted in the depths. The sheer size of it was unreal, but it wasn’t just the scale it was the feeling of being seen. The weight of its gaze settled on him, and for the first time in a long while… Aeron felt small.
A thunderous growl rumbled from the darkness, deep and guttural, vibrating through the air like the sound of the world cracking apart. And then
A pair of emerald eyes ignited.
They burned like twin infernos, piercing through the shadows with a venomous, predatory glow. Cold. Ancient. Intelligent.
Aeron’s whole body tensed. Every muscle screamed to move, yet he held his ground, glaring back. it was watching him.
Suddenly, a cold chime rang out in his mind.
Ding!
[One of the Eight Apostles is nearby.]
Aeron’s eyes widened, heart pounding against his ribs.
"Really ? His voice came out in a breathless murmur, barely audible over the roaring heat of the chasm. "That’s one of them?"
****
Meereen – The Great Pyramid
The city of Mereen stretched far below, its golden pyramids gleaming under the scorching sun. Yet, high above, within the throne room of the Great Pyramid, Daenerys Targaryen sat upon her seat not of iron, but of polished stone and pride. The Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains… yet at this moment, her mind was far from the victories she had earned.
Her fingers tapped softly against the cool armrest as she gazed into the distance, eyes unfocused. The murmur of her advisors faded into the background as a singular thought gnawed at the edges of her mind.
‘Is he really coming back?’
Aeron Grim. The name itself felt like a shadow lurking in the corners of her thoughts. The last time he stood before her what he displayed…
‘Monsters born of shadow… warriors that did not bleed, did not fall.’
And his words, spoken with such terrifying certainty, still echoed through her memory.
"I’ll return, Daenerys… and when I do, I’ll be even stronger. Then, the Seven Kingdoms will be mine."
A chill crept down her spine despite the heat of the day. Her dragons were miracles, creatures of myth reborn into the world. And yet… what Aeron had shown her what he was, felt like something beyond the realm of men. Beyond even her dragons.
"What could he possibly bring that’s more terrifying?"
"My Queen?"
The soft, familiar voice of Missandei cut through her thoughts. Daenerys blinked, pulled from her daydream as the young woman stood before her with that ever-graceful posture. Her eyes were warm but concerned.
"Shall we give the command? The ships are ready, the Unsullied stand prepared. We can begin our voyage to Dragonstone at your word."
For a heartbeat, Daenerys hesitated, an unfamiliar feeling twisting in her chest. She had been so certain before, so driven. But now…
"No," she said softly. Then stronger, "Not yet. We wait."
A heavy silence fell upon the room.
"Wait?" Jorah Mormont’s rough voice cut in, his brow furrowing in disbelief. "My Queen, now is the time. Dragonstone is ours for the taking. Every day we delay gives the usurpers more time to strengthen her hold on the Realm. Why wait?"
Daenerys didn’t answer immediately. She looked away, her silver hair cascading over her shoulder as the tension in her heart weighed against the logic in her mind.
Jorah took a breath, his voice quieter more cautious.
"Don’t tell me… it’s about that sorcerer."
Daenerys’s expression darkened as her jaw tightened. She didn’t need to answer. The silence spoke for her.
"You’re afraid of him," Jorah said, not accusing but the words hung heavy in the air.
"Afraid?" Her voice was quiet, but it cut like Valyrian steel. She turned her eyes on him fierce, unyielding. "No, Ser Jorah. I am not afraid. But I am not blind, either."
She stood, her hands clenching at her sides.
"I saw what he did. You did too." Her tone grew colder, edged with a hint of something unspoken. "Shadowed Men and beasts with no breath in their lungs stood by his side ,Blades did not stop them. And … they knelt. To him."
Her voice softened but only slightly.
"Even my dragons were not so terrifying to the people of this city."
Jorah shifted uncomfortably, but she didn’t let him speak.
"Aeron Grim promised to return..." Her violet eyes burned with an intensity that made even the hardened knight look away. "..and I want to know what he’s bringing with him. Wouldn’t you?"
Missandei’s expression was unreadable, but her fingers twitched slightly, perhaps a sign of unease. Jorah, however, shook his head.
"Curiosity won’t win you the Iron Throne, Your Grace," he said quietly. "Nor will waiting on the word of a man who would bend the world to his will with dark magic."
Daenerys’s lips pressed into a thin line.
"And rushing into war without knowing the full strength of my enemies will see me dead."
Jorah held her gaze a moment longer before sighing and taking a step back. He lowered his head slightly.
"As you command, my Queen."
For a moment, there was only the sound of the wind beyond the stone walls, dry, warm, carrying whispers from the far corners of Essos.
Daenerys turned back toward the window, her mind still wrestling with the unknown.
"What are you planning, Aeron Grim? And when you return… will even my dragons be enough?"
