Ryan floated in the void, the darkness pressing in on him from all sides. The scenes of knowledge and memories were gone and the emptiness around him was suffocating. He wanted to wake up, to test his newfound powers, but there was no exit from this limbo.
As the monotony stretched on, his mind wandered. He thought of his old life, his mundane yet comforting routines, and the stark contrast to the perilous world he now found himself in. The Game of Thrones was no place for the faint-hearted, and Ryan knew he had to be prepared for the trials ahead. But how was he supposed to do that if he couldn't even wake up?
Just as boredom began to take hold again, Ryan felt a sensation, a subtle shift in the darkness around him. It was as if something was touching him, enveloping his being. His vision flickered, and suddenly, he was no longer alone.
In front of him floated five balls of flame, each a different color: Red, Green, Gold, Blue, and Violet. They circled around him, their light flickering and dancing in the void. Ryan stared at them, entranced. He could almost hear voices within each flame, but as he listened closer, he realized they were not voices at all. They were roars, primal and powerful, calling out to him.
The flames seemed to pulse with life, their colors shifting and blending at the edges. Ryan could feel an intense energy emanating from them, a raw power that both fascinated and terrified him. He reached out mentally, trying to understand their nature.
Without warning, the Red, Blue, and Violet flames surged upwards, their heat intensifying by the second. Ryan felt the scorching heat surround him, penetrating his very being. He screamed as the flames engulfed him, the pain almost unbearable. The roars grew louder, mingling with his own cries, until they became a cacophony of sound and fury.
The heat spread through him, filling every part of his essence. It was as if the flames were burning away the last remnants of his old self, forging something new in the process. Ryan's vision blurred, then blackened entirely as the intensity of the experience overwhelmed him.
~~~
When Ryan opened his eyes once more, he was surrounded by flames. His heart raced, and he screamed again, scared shitless. But something was different this time—he didn't feel any pain. It was weird, disorienting. A beat later, he finally realized he was awake, in his new infant body, surrounded by freaking fire. But he wasn't burning, nor was he hurting.
His screams subsided into confused whimpers as he took in his surroundings. Flames licked the air around him, but they seemed to dance harmlessly, almost playfully. Ryan's small body felt a strange sensation, something moving all around him. Then he felt something climb onto his forehead.
He blinked, trying to focus his infant eyes.
He saw a dragon head.
A baby dragon head.
Cooing at him as it tilted its head while peering down at him curiously.
Its scales shimmering with shades of red and black.
Soon, two more dragon hatchlings joined the first, one black with luminescent blue hues and the other black with violet highlights. They whined softly, vying for Ryan's attention.
Ryan's mind struggled to process the sight.
Baby Dragons. But Dragons nonetheless.
He had read about them, seen them in shows, figurines, art works, but this was real. Too real.
What the fuck?
He felt their body weights pressing down on him, and claws digging into his soft skin. They were half his size—closer to a third of his infant body. They look massive to him.
The sensation of being scooped up was peripheral, a distant awareness compared to the overwhelming fascination that gripped Ryan—now Rhaemon—as he stared at the dragons before him. His mother's trembling hands and tight embrace were barely registered; his entire being was fixated on the three reptilian creatures clinging to his infant form.
He blinked several times, trying to process the sight before him. Each dragon had its own unique features, and he couldn't help but observe them in awe.
The blue and black dragon had scales that were predominantly a deep, oceanic blue, with a glossy, almost metallic sheen that caught the light and reflected it in dazzling patterns. Interspersed among the blue were patches of jet-black scales, creating an interplay of colors. Its eyes were a deep, enigmatic blue, reminiscent of the deepest parts of the ocean, and they seemed to hold ancient, primal secrets. His wings were delicate yet strong, with a dark blue membrane that had hints of bioluminescent glow, making him look like the dragon of the seas.
The red and black dragon was a striking contrast of fiery hues and dark shadows. Its scales were a deep, glossy black, interspersed with patches of vibrant, blood-red. The red seemed to shimmer like lava, especially along his spine and the edges of his wings.
Then, astonishment hit Rhaemon like waves when he recognized the red and black dragon that was currently flapping his wings at him. It was Drogon. Daenerys' dragon from the show. He was fucking sure of it. And the realization sent a thrill of excitement through him, more intense than anything he'd ever felt.
The last one was a violet and black dragon. His scales were a deep, rich violet, with black accents that gave him an air of sophistication. The violet scales had an iridescent quality, shifting colors subtly as the light played over them. Its eyes were a striking, intelligent violet, filled with a wisdom that seemed beyond his brothers. His wings were elegant, with a membrane that was almost translucent, showing hints of violet veins running through it.
Out of his control, his baby mouth babbled in excitement, drool coming out of his small mouth. But he didn't care. This was too awesome!
His little hands made grabby motions towards the dragons. Their presence was mesmerizing, and he was eager to catch every detail of their appearance.
He didn't notice the awed crowd watching them, their eyes wide with amazement. All Rhaemon's attention was focused on the dragons, who seemed to enjoy his fascination. They nuzzled their faces against him, loving the attention he was giving them.
The initial excitement of being surrounded by dragons was intoxicating, but suddenly, exhaustion hit him like waves crashing against the shore. His tiny body felt incredibly heavy, and a deep, overwhelming need to sleep began to take over.
What the heck, why did he feel so tired? He wanted to stare at the dragons more, to feel their scales, to play with them. Confusion began to set in and Rhaemon finally seems to realize his current situation. But his energy was rapidly depleting, and confusion started to cloud his thoughts.
He started to question what had happened. Where was he? Why were baby dragons here? Weren't they supposed to be extinct? Why was the first thing he saw, dragons?
His thoughts were a whirlwind, but for the first time, he shifted his focus from the dragons to his new mother. He looked up at her and saw an expression of profound relief, awe, and exhaustion etched on her tear-stained face. Why was she crying? Her eyes, though tired, were filled with an intense love and protectiveness that made him feel a pang of something familiar and comforting.
He looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings, and he was stunned.
Strangers, so many of them, were watching him with similar expressions of awe and reverence. One man wore a golden crown, his hair the same shade of silver-blonde as his mother's. The king, Rhaemon realized. Which king—he hadn't got a clue. Next to him, he recognized the man who had helped his mother give birth. Then there was a group that looked like servants, and men clad in armor. Knights most likely. But why? Why were they looking at him like that?
Before he could even begin to process the answers to his own questions, Rhaemon's eyes grew too heavy to keep open. His last sight was of the dragons, nuzzling close to him and his mother, before the darkness enveloped Rhaemon once more. The dragons' warmth still lingering on his skin and the questions swirling unanswered in his mind.