𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡

Birdcage

Aegon's eyes widened in sudden fear as he witnessed the brutality unfolding before him. The man callously imprisoned Drakus in a small birdcage, leaving the distressed dragon confined.

Aegon was forcefully shoved against the cold wall, a threat lingering in the air. The man warned Aegon that any attempt to resist would result in dire consequences - a chilling promise that hung over him like a dark cloud. As the man pressed a sharp object against Aegon's throat, he felt the cold edge of the blade, a stark reminder of the perilous situation.

Simultaneously, the man seized Thereya by her hair, mercilessly dragging her out of the cell. Aegon's eyes darted between the aggressor and Thereya, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and desperation. The fate of both their lives now rested in the hands of this cruel captor.

As the man's iron grip tightened on Thereya, her tenacious spirit sparked into action. She wriggled and squirmed, determined to break free from the clutches of her assailant. The dimly lit cell witnessed the struggle between her fierce will and the man's brute strength. In the midst of the skirmish, a sickening thud echoed as a forceful blow landed on Thereya's face.

Dizziness consumed her, and the metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. A crimson stream trickled from her nose, staining the air with an unsettling scent. Yet, even in the face of adversity, Thereya's voice rang out, defiant and unwavering. She shouted, demanding their release and an end to this cruel captivity "Let us go!"

The man, indifferent to her plea, continued his ruthless ascent, dragging Thereya mercilessly through the narrow passageways of the ship.

As the ship sailed steadily toward Essos, Thereya's mind raced with a mix of anxiety and frustration. The rhythmic sounds of the waves provided a dissonant backdrop to her inner turmoil. The warmth of the breeze carried a stark contrast to the cold reality of their situation.

There's no escaping this, Thereya thought, her eyes scanning the distant shores of Essos. A land so different from the one she knew, yet now it seemed both promising and ominous. She felt a pang of longing for the familiar halls of Westeros, for the known faces and even the political complexities of her family. But, at the same time, there was a spark of hope that maybe Essos held a chance for escape.

As she confronted the man who had imprisoned them, her defiant questions hung in the air. What does he want with us? What awaits in Essos? Thereya's frustration grew, a potent mix of anger and confusion. The man's silence fueled her irritation, and with each pull of her hair, she became more determined to resist.

The seagulls' cries served as a haunting melody to Thereya's predicament. The ship's movements mirrored the turbulence in her heart. She couldn't help but wonder what awaited them on the foreign shores. The lack of answers intensified her anxiety, and Essos loomed larger, a realm of uncertainty where their fates hung in the balance.

As the man led her into his secluded quarters, Thereya's thoughts raced. The confined space seemed to close in on her, leaving her with a gnawing sense of powerlessness. She vowed to stay strong, for her sake and Aegon's, hoping that within the enigma of Essos, a flicker of hope would emerge.

The door to the man's quarters closed behind him, a heavy thud resonated through the dimly lit room. Thereya's eyes darted around the confined space, her senses heightened by the air of uncertainty. Drakus, suspended in the birdcage, swung gently with the ship's movements, his distressed screeches echoing in the cramped quarters.

The man wasted no time. With a detached efficiency, he hung the small dragon cage from the ceiling, the metal links rattling ominously. Thereya's gaze remained fixed on Drakus, a silent promise passing between them, a vow to endure whatever lay ahead.

"Sit down," the man commanded, his tone colder than the unforgiving winds that swept across the ship's deck. There was an unsettling authority in his voice, one that demanded obedience. Thereya complied, her body aching from the earlier altercation.

Blood smeared across her sleeve, evidence of the confrontation, Thereya took her seat, eyes never leaving the man. She felt a surge of anger, an indignant fire burning within her. Essos might be a realm unknown to her, but she refused to be cowed.

The man's expression remained stoic, his eyes scanning her form with an unsettling scrutiny. As he spoke, his words cut through the silence, each one laden with the weight of an impending revelation. "You're in Essos now. Things are different here, and you better learn that quickly."

Thereya met his gaze with unwavering defiance. Essos might be different, but her spirit remained unyielding. She would adapt, fight, and endure, determined to emerge from this trial unbroken. Drakus continued to screech, a resilient anthem echoing in the shadows of the unknown.

As Drakus hung in the birdcage, his indignant screeches echoed in the dimly lit quarters. Thereya's eyes narrowed at the small dragon, a silent exchange transpiring between them, a connection forged through shared defiance.

Her anger, a smoldering ember, ignited her words. "What's your name?" Thereya demanded, her gaze piercing the man. The room seemed to tighten, the air charged with tension.

The man regarded her with a detached demeanor, as if her question were an inconsequential detail in the grand tapestry of his actions. "Names are irrelevant," he replied dismissively.

A surge of frustration coursed through Thereya. "Everyone has a name," she retorted, her voice laced with defiance. "Even if it's the last thing I hear before I die, I want to know what to carve on your headstone."

There was a fleeting flicker in the man's eyes, a subtle acknowledgment of the gravity in Thereya's words. The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension, the weight of impending consequences hanging in the air.

His name, she reasoned, was a piece of power she could wield, an anchor in the uncertainty of Essos. Thereya's defiant gaze remained fixed on the man, an unyielding spirit refusing to be broken by the unknown. Drakus continued to screech, a rallying cry against the encroaching shadows.

"Manta ray," he chuckled, the name slipping from his lips with an air of finality. Thereya acknowledged the revelation with a nod, her eyes unwavering, yet her spirit undeterred.

"If you think you can enslave us..." Thereya declared, her tone unwavering, "you're gravely mistaken. A dragon can never be a slave." Her words carried a resonance.

The man's chuckle resonated with a sense of arrogance, dismissing her defiance as mere words. "We'll see," he retorted cryptically, as if the outcome of their struggle had already been written in the unseen pages of fate.

The tension in the room persisted, a volatile dance between captor and captive, both navigating the uncharted waters of their uncertain fate. Manta Ray leaned against a table, his gaze never leaving Thereya, a silent acknowledgment of the challenges ahead, a prelude to the unfolding drama in the seas beyond Essos.

Desperation tainted Thereya's voice as she pleaded with Ray, her bravado giving way to the raw fear that lurked beneath the surface. "Just take me! Sell me if you have to, but let the prince and my dragon go!" she implored, the urgency in her words cutting through the stifling air of the confined quarters.

Ray, seemingly unfazed by her emotional outburst, regarded her with a detached indifference. The subtle cruelty in his eyes hinted at an enjoyment derived from her distress. The ship sailed steadily towards Essos, carrying with it the weight of uncertainty and the turbulent destinies of those held captive within its wooden confines. Thereya's heart echoed the rhythm of the waves outside, an erratic dance of hope and despair.

Ray leaned back, crossing his arms as a sardonic grin played on his lips. "Once I sell you, you're no longer my problem. You can share your concerns with the man who becomes your new owner," he remarked callously, his words cutting through the air like a sharp blade. The implicit cruelty of his tone accentuated the dire reality of their situation.

Thereya, seated in front of him, felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. Her gaze flickered to the caged Drakus, a poignant reminder of the precarious nature of their existence. She mustered what courage she could, responding defiantly, "We'll see how it all turns out. Dragons are not easily tamed, let alone enslaved." Despite her brave front, an unsettling uncertainty lingered in her eyes, a reflection of the unknown fate that awaited them in the distant lands of Essos.