From Storms to Thrones (Part 1)

Chapter 23: Between Life, Death, and Flames

Out of the flames came a blur of gold and white, moving so fast I could barely track it with my eyes. The soldiers who had been so close to ending my life were now nothing more than charred remains, their swords clattering uselessly to the ground.

As the flames subsided, I looked up, my eyes wide with shock and disbelief. As Syrax circled back, her yellow-gold scales shimmering in the firelight. And on its back, her white hair flowing like a banner, was Rhaenyra.

She had saved me.

Syrax landed with a heavy thud, dust and debris swirling around its massive claws. Rhaenyra slid gracefully from the saddle, her movements quick.  As she approached me, I saw the toll the fight had taken on her. Her once pristine white hair was streaked with ash, sticking to her sweat-slicked skin, and her armor, though still gleaming, was smudged with black soot, likely from the flames Vhagar had sent her way.

Despite the grime and blood, she was a vision of power and determination, her eyes burning with a fierce intensity that made my breath catch. The exhaustion that tugged at the corners of her eyes did nothing to diminish the strength in her gaze as she locked onto mine.

"Elizabeth!" she called out, her voice carrying over the crackling of the flames. She strode toward me, her expression a mixture of relief and fierce resolve. "Are you hurt?"

I could barely find my voice, still reeling from the shock of what had just happened.

"My shoulder," I managed to croak, my hand still gripping the dagger, though now it felt even smaller, more insignificant.

Rhaenyra's gaze flicked to my injured shoulder, her eyes narrowing with concern. But then, as her gaze traveled down to my neck, her jaw tightened. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything, her eyes snapped to the tree line behind me, widening in alarm.

I turned to follow her gaze and felt my stomach drop. The crossbows were being aimed at Syrax, the deadly weapons locked onto the dragon who had just saved me.

Rhaenyra moved in a flash, spinning toward Syrax, her mouth opening to shout a command. But before she could utter a word, a deafening roar split the sky. The Cannibal appeared from above, a dark shadow against the light, and with terrifying speed, he unleashed a torrent of fire upon the crossbows and the men operating them. The explosion of flames was so intense that even from a hundred yards away, I could feel the searing heat wash over me, the air thick with the scent of burning flesh and wood.

The Cannibal swooped back up into the sky, his roar echoing like thunder. I watched him climb higher, my heart pounding with a mix of awe and relief. That's when I noticed something that made my breath catch.

Vhagar was retreating. Meleys was hot on her tail, her crimson scales glinting in the sunlight as she gave chase, while Moondancer descended from above, engulfing another battalion of Greens in dragon fire.

"To the Queen!"

The shout echoed around us, a rallying cry that sent a surge of energy through the air. Targaryen soldiers, emboldened by the sight of their dragons reigning supreme, charged forward. They rushed past us, swords raised high as they stormed the Greens who stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief as they watched their last defense against the dragons crumble.

"Retreat!" The panicked cry came from one of the Green commanders, his voice cracking with fear. The soldiers who had moments ago been charging at me now turned and fled, their ranks breaking apart in a desperate scramble to escape the fury of the dragons and the Queens men.

Rhaenyra's eyes were still fixed on the retreating form of Vhagar, her jaw clenched with determination. She turned to me, her face streaked with soot and blood, her eyes burning with resolve.

"We've turned the tide," she said, her voice steady but laced with the intensity of the battle still raging around us. "But it's not over yet."

I nodded, my heart still racing. The pain in my shoulder was a constant throb, but I pushed it aside. The battle was shifting in our favor, but as Rhaenyra had said, it wasn't over. There were still enemies on the field.

Rhaenyra turned to Syrax, then, with a glance at me, she held out her hand.

"Come," she ordered, her voice firm and steady as she moved me toward Syrax, whose golden eyes watched us with a calm, almost regal gaze.

I swallowed nervously, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my chest. As I hesitated, Rhaenyra must have sensed my unease. Her grip on my hand tightened slightly, reassuring.

"She won't harm you," Rhaenyra said softly, guiding me to Syrax's side. The dragon's immense presence was intimidating, but there was something reassuring in the way Syrax observed us, a quiet intelligence in her eyes. With Rhaenyra's help, I began to climb back onto the dragon's back, every movement sending sharp jolts of pain through my injured shoulder. I couldn't hold back a hiss of pain as I struggled to get settled.

"We need to rejoin the fight," Rhaenyra said behind me, her voice regaining its steel as she helped guide me onto the saddle.

"Can you hold on?" she asked, her tone a mix of concern and determination.

"I can," I replied, though my voice wavered under the weight of the pain still gnawing at me. I gritted my teeth, trying to steady myself as I felt the warmth of Rhaenyra's presence behind me.

With a nod, Rhaenyra swung herself up behind me, her movements fluid and practiced. Her arms wrapped securely around my waist, offering both support and a sense of safety that I desperately needed in that moment.

"Sōvēs, Syrax!" Rhaenyra commanded, her voice firm and commanding.

Syrax let out a low rumble, a sound that resonated deep in my chest, and with a powerful beat of her wings, we were airborne once more. The ground fell away beneath us, the battlefield shrinking as we climbed higher into the sky. The cries of battle and the clash of swords faded into the distance, replaced by the rhythmic beat of Syrax's wings and the rush of wind as we soared above the chaos below.

As we flew, I couldn't help but glance down at the scene beneath us. The Targaryen soldiers were pushing forward with renewed vigor, their spirits lifted by the sight of their dragons dominating the skies. Below, the Greens were in full retreat, their once formidable ranks breaking apart in the face of the overwhelming power arrayed against them.

The tide had indeed turned. The sight filled me with a glimmer of hope, a feeling that had been all but absent since the battle began. Despite the pain, despite the chaos, we were winning. For the first time since this all began, it felt like victory might be within reach.