With each swing of the axe, Rhaegar felt the weight of his actions, his hands stained with blood.
But as his enemy's head rolled to the ground, he felt a strange sensation, mixed with a deep sense of dread.
"It's not as simple as it seems," he said to himself, his voice barely audible over the noise of the camp. "But this axe... it's surprisingly balanced."
Rhaegar put the bloody weapon aside and took a look around. This was just the start. There was still a lot more to do.
For once, he didn't try to hide from the patrolling savages. Instead, he walked right into the heart of the camp, his purpose clear.
Before he knew it, he was surrounded by a group of wary warriors, their weapons drawn and their eyes blazing with hostility.
"Hey, kid, what are you doing here?" one of them demanded, his voice dripping with contempt.
Rhaegar remained calm in the face of their hostility. "You'd do well to show a Targaryen some respect," he replied, his words laced with a hint of defiance.
The crowd let out a loud, derisive laugh. "You say you're a Targaryen? More like a dead man walking!" taunted one particularly vile savage, his face contorted with malice.
In response, Rhaegar just held out a hand, pointing upward. This caught the savages' attention.
"Look up," he told them, his tone calm despite the danger looming overhead.
Two glowing green orbs moved through the night air, cutting through the darkness like ethereal lanterns, casting an otherworldly glow on the scene below.
The savages stopped in their tracks, their breath catching in their throats as they watched the incredible show unfold above them.
With a subtle tremor, the green lights swayed, causing the very fabric of the night sky to ripple.
Then they saw it: a huge creature, its black scales shining in the moonlight, surveying the valley with an air of unquestionable authority.
As they took in this sight, fear gripped their hearts, leaving them powerless in the presence of the beast.
They fell to their knees, their weapons forgotten, as they cowered before the mighty predator.
"Devour him," Rhaegar said, his voice breaking the tense silence as he approached the trembling savage.
With a menacing roar, the dragon asserted his dominance, sending the victim sprawling backward.
Before he even hit the ground, the dragon's agile jaws seized the man and dragged him into its gaping maw.
The crunch of bones echoed through the night as the dragon devoured its prey, sating its hunger with mercilessly.
With this display of power, Rhaegar's dragon, Cannibal, reclaimed its rightful place as the apex predator of Dragonstone.
Sensing his master's distress during the day's ordeal, Cannibal had returned of his own accord, guided by the bond between dragon and rider.
Now reunited, man and dragon stood as one.
With a determined look, Rhaegar mounted his loyal steed, his expression showing no hint of mercy as he surveyed the trembling natives below.
All that patience he's had all day is for this moment of vengeance. Now, Rhaegar will take his dragon and burn all those who have disrespected him with dragonfire.
As Cannibal walked past them, Rhaegar's voice rang out with a cold indifference.
"Summon your leaders. I will await their arrival."
Perched atop the formidable dragon, Rhaegar commanded the remaining savages with an air of authority as he demanded their obedience.
"Monsters... monsters..." The onlookers were so shocked that they couldn't speak. They were reeling from the sight of their comrades being killed.
Each word Rhaegar spoke seemed to carry a sense of doom, sending shivers down their spines and igniting a primal instinct to flee.
They jumped to their feet and ran in all directions, screaming in panic.
But even though they were scared, the dragon stayed perfectly still, its dragonfire still held in check.
Instead, it extended a sinuous tail, scooped up the savage leader, and delivered him to Rhaegar with effortless precision.
Rhaegar accepted the recovered bracelet with a casual flick of his hand and looked at the fallen leader with icy detachment.
"An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Your fate is in your hands," he intoned, his voice devoid of emotion.
As Rhaegar's gaze fell once more on the trembling savages below, the dragon picked up on his intent.
With a roar, it unleashed a torrent of dragonfire that lit the valley in a blazing inferno, sending shockwaves of heat through the air.
The savages, with their psychological defences shattered, cowered in fear before the power of the dragon.
They knelt before the dragon's power and surrendered their weapons. They joined in a chorus of fear and awe for the deity before them—the god of fire incarnate.
Rhaegar's voice cut through the tumult. It was cold and commanding. He asked, "Which one of you is the leader of the Soldier Pine tribe?"
His words, though soft, silenced the clamor around them.
Whispers rippled through the crowd as they, driven by fear, pushed forward the leader of the Soldier Pine tribe - a stalwart figure, his features etched with fear.
Rhaegar kept his cool as he asked the trembling savage, "Many tribes have joined forces against the Hawk Tribe. Who orchestrated this?"
"I did!" The leader admitted, "We joined together in the face of the evil spirits' curse." His resolve faltered under Rhaegar's scrutiny.
"Your honesty is commendable," Rhaegar remarked, his hand caressing the dragon's smooth scales. With a casual gesture, he uttered a command in High Valyrian: "Dracarys."
Confusion clouded the savages' faces as they failed to understand the ancient tongue.
In an instant, emerald flames erupted from the dragon's maw, engulfing the leader of the Soldier Pine tribe in a blaze of dragonfire.
In an instant, flesh turned to ash, consumed by the dragonfire.
Rhaegar looked away, unwilling to witness the carnage he had wrought.
The act weighed heavily on him, but he remained decided. He'd made a promise and he was going to keep it.
"Run! Run for your lives! This demon child rides a beast to bring destruction upon us all!"
The dragonfire stirred the courage in some of the onlookers. They didn't dare face Rhaegar and his fearsome mount directly, but they grabbed their weapons and fled in terror.
Despite the panic, Rhaegar watched the chaos with a calm face. He gave a low command, and the dragon responded by spreading its wings and rising into the night sky.
Flames rained down upon the fleeing savages from the dragon's gaping maw, engulfing them in destruction.
Bored with the spectacle, the dragon circled above the valley, showing its contempt for the scattered savages.
As the survivors knelt in abject submission, begging for mercy, Rhaegar rode atop his dragon, watching the scene below with detached interest.
He couldn't understand the words of the wildlings because their various dialects blended into an incomprehensible language.
But amidst the chaos, he found comfort in the quiet of his own heart, secure in his position of power.
The dragon circled the valley, unleashing dragonfire.
Several times, Rhaegar broke from his reverie to issue commands to the kneeling wildlings below.
"Rescue the Hawk tribe members and keep an eye on the Soldier Pine tribe."
"Yes, Lord, we will obey," they replied, their voices trembling with reverence.
At that moment, whether you are a savage leader or a savage warrior who only knows how to fight, all you can do is kneel and beg for mercy.
Under the dragon's outstretched wings, all beings were equal, united in awe and fear.
Pointing to the charred remains that littered the ground, Rhaegar spoke with a hint of regret, "Gather the bodies and give them a proper cremation."
(Word count: 1,289)