The dragon did not breathe fire, nor did it intend to tear Rhaegar apart.
Instead, with a sweep of its powerful wings, the colossal figure of the Cannibal left the mountaintop and soared into the sky.
As a sensation of weightlessness enveloped him, Rhaegar's eyes fluttered open, revealing only a narrow slit, and he saw a view with nothing above but the drifting clouds.
"Flight..."
His eyes widened in astonishment, Rhaegar murmured softly, momentarily speechless at the miracle unfolding before him.
In an instant, elation overcame Rhaegar and he laughed exuberantly, "I am flying, I have successfully mounted a dragon's back!"
Adjusting his posture to find a more secure position on the dragon's back, Rhaegar leaned forward to look down at the earth.
The Cannibal rose quickly, gliding above the clouds with effortless grace.
The island of Dragonstone, an area of land that would take a day to traverse on foot, now appeared unremarkable in Rhaegar's eyes.
Rhaegar understood that it was not the island that had shrunk in size, but rather, from the vantage point of a dragon's back, all things seemed smaller.
Just as he began to relax, the Cannibal sent a burst of fire into the sky and propelled himself into the flames.
Rhaegar's pupils constricted slightly and he quickly twisted his body to avoid the dragon flames.
Each dragon had different characteristics, and the hue of their flames followed the same logic.
The Cannibal's dragonfire manifested as a ghostly green reminiscent of death, its form resembling smoke that alternated between gaseous and liquid states, with formidable adhesive properties.
Once tainted by his dragonfire, extinguishing the flames proved as difficult as plucking a maggot from a bone.
While Rhaegar could temporarily withstand the searing heat of dragonfire, prolonged exposure was dangerous.
With a resounding roar, the Cannibal plunged into the engulfing green flames, flapping his wings with great force.
Pinned against its spine, Rhaegar felt the heat of the dragonfire burn the back of his clothing, leaving reddened, swollen burns.
Once again exposed to dragonfire, his injuries were less severe this time.
Perhaps because of his purer bloodline, his resistance to the dragonfire had increased.
Rhaegar, a defiant expression etched on his face, plucked at a smoldering strand of hair and shouted, "Dracarys!
He felt the Cannibal's stubborn determination.
The black dragon refused to acknowledge him.
Very well, then. Let me face your flames and challenge your stubbornness.
Let us see if this enraged dragon yields first, or if I am consumed by the flames.
Hearing the High Valyrian's command, the Cannibal grew increasingly agitated, twirling in the air and unleashing jets of dragonfire in an attempt to dislodge him.
Rhaegar gritted his teeth, convinced that victory would go to the one who held out to the end.
...
Inside the cave, the imposing silhouette of the Cannibal had vanished.
The king's eldest son had also vanished without a trace.
After a brief pause, Cole regained his composure and quickly made his way out.
The prince was missing, and he had to inform the princess and the king.
Regardless of the outcome, he bore the responsibility.
Emerging from Dragonmont in disarray, Cole encountered the Dragonkeeper, who had returned from his exploration of the canyon.
Though the Dragonkeeper tried to stop him, Cole slipped past him and made a beeline for the castle.
At some point, the once-clear sky changed color and was covered by darkening clouds.
Bean-sized raindrops fell to the ground, the cold wind mirroring the coldness in his heart.
Returning to the castle proved to be a challenge, arriving just in time for the royal family's reunion in the hall.
Observing Cole's disheveled state, Viserys was the first to address him, inquiring, "Ser, why do you seem so agitated?"
Cole bowed his head, his mind in turmoil as he replied, "The prince was carried off by a dragon."
"A dragon?" Viserys' reply was tinged with disbelief.
Rhaenyra sprang to her feet, her gaze piercing as she asked Cole, "And you made no attempt to pursue the young dragon?"
"We were led to Dragonmont under false pretenses, where we encountered a young dragon, only to be ambushed by a formidable adult dragon," Cole explained wearily, shaking his head. "Despite sensing danger, the prince refused to retreat and leaped onto the dragon's back alone, seemingly intent on... taming it."
"Gods, you stood by while Rhaegar mounted a full-grown dragon?" Viserys snapped in anger.
Rhaenyra rushed to Cole's side, her voice filled with fear, "Where is Rhaegar? Where is the dragon?"
"I do not know. The prince gave a command to the giant dragon and took flight before we could intervene," Cole admitted helplessly.
Cole had followed Rhaenyra for years, and though his knowledge of High Valyrian was rusty, it remained somewhat familiar to him.
The resounding slap echoed through the empty hall.
Pointing her stinging hand accusingly at Cole, Rhaenyra's heart seethed with rage as she gritted her teeth and declared, "I have only one brother, and I trusted you to protect him!"
"I am deeply sorry..." Cole's face bore the mark of her slap as he hung his head in shame.
"Save your apologies! Send out search parties immediately, now!" Rhaenyra's voice, clear and cold, echoed as she stormed out of the hall.
Taming a full-grown dragon was no easy task.
Every year on the island of Dragonstone, brave individuals harbored secret ambitions to tame wild dragons.
But not one soul ever succeeded.
Inevitably, they met their demise, reduced to ashes or left unrecognizable.
At first, Rhaenyra thought that the lesson of the Dreamfyre incident would dissuade Rhaegar from attempting to tame a full-grown dragon.
But to her dismay, Rhaegar still had the ambition to tame a full-grown dragon.
The wild dragons of Dragonstone had long roamed without a master, their ferocious nature a challenge far beyond the chain-bound Dreamfyre.
Rhaegar's newfound desire to tame an adult dragon stemmed from his desire to help her.
If any harm came to Rhaegar as a result...
She dared not think of the guilt that would weigh on her for the rest of her days.
...
Compared to the ferocity of dragonfire, every flame in the mundane world seems mild by comparison.
The unleashed fury of a dragon has the ability to lay waste to entire cities.
Despite his best efforts to dislodge the stubborn human rider on his back, the Cannibal's green eyes glowed with madness, each thunderous roar echoing through the clouds.
"Cannibal, Dracarys!"
Rhaegar lay prone on the dragon's back, commanding tirelessly.
In response to these commands, the Cannibal veered off course, maintaining a steady rhythm.
Its body straightened, wings outstretched, neck slightly arched, slitted pupils fixed on the sea below.
Intent on ridding itself of the nuisance clinging to its back, it plunged into the ocean at breakneck speed.
As the rushing wind pressed against him, Rhaegar's body stiffened, leaving only his bloodied hands clutching desperately to the dragon's scales.
The air pressure made it hard to breathe, and Rhaegar squeezed his eyes shut, his mouth open.
He tried to scream, but his voice was lost in the rushing air.
Plop!
The Cannibal crashed directly into the rolling sea, sinking his entire body into it.
Rhaegar was engulfed in salt water.
Seawater filled his lungs, choking him, leaving him gasping for air.
For a fleeting moment, a sense of helplessness washed over Rhaegar.
Instinctively, he considered releasing his grip.
"Roar..."
On the ocean floor, the Cannibal let out a resounding roar, snatching at passing fish with hunger, tail flailing and head rising with force.
After breaking through the surface of the sea, the dragon spread its wings and soared back into the sky.
Although dragons could dive into the sea for short periods, they could not stay there for long.
Despising the seawater, the Cannibal quickly emerged from the ocean's depths and rode the waves once more.
This break gave Rhaegar a chance to catch his breath.
As the Cannibal broke free of the sea's grip, Rhaegar beat his chest and expelled seawater with a violent cough.
Through a blurred vision, he saw the dragon glide across the surface of the water, its mighty wings churning up the waves in its wake.
(Word count: 1368)