I cough, once, twice, again, each breath tearing through my chest like broken glass, my whole body aches, muscles throbbing, joints screaming. One side of my face is buried in cold, gritty sand, and salt clings to my lips.
It takes everything I've got to roll onto my back, sand sticks to blood and sweat. I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain, then force them open again.
The ship, the fire and the blast.
Flashes of it flicker through my head, molten wood exploding, green flames twisting through the air, and then nothing.
I should've drowned, my lungs should be full of cold saltwater, dragging me under into the black depths, but I'm not, I'm coughing, choking on seawater and grit and somehow, somehow I'm still breathing.
"How… how am I alive?" I gasp, sliding my hands under my shoulders, my arms shake as I push myself upright, the wet sand sticks to my back, the cold soaking through what's left of my shirt.
Fire never hurt me, those dark green flames, they healed me, but water? water will drown me, and yet I'm still here.
I cough again, spit thick with salt, pain shoots through my ribs, sharp and mean, but I move anyway dragging myself up, one shaky leg at a time.
I throw my head back and scream into the wind.
"I'm fucking alive!"
The words bounce off the cliffs, swallowed by the crash of waves, my jaw aches, my throat burns but I keep shouting until even the echo gives up.
I stagger from the shoreline, my feet sinking into coarse, wet sand with every step, behind me, the sea churns, ahead, dark cliffs rise like broken teeth. Salt still lingers in the air but beneath it all, there's something else, a pull, a stirring sensation under my skin, weak at first, then stronger.
I don't know what it is, only that it's calling me.
The path ahead is no path at all, just a mess of broken rock and seaweed slick stone. The basalt columns twist upward like old bones, jagged and dark, I climb slowly, barefoot, cut and scraped, slipping more than once, the cold bites deeper here. The wind howls through the stone like a warning, but I don't stop, the pull in my chest won't let me.
Time blurs, the climb feels endless, every step is harder than the last, but then just as I start to wonder if I'm chasing nothing, I see it.
Tucked between the cliffs, half hidden behind fallen rock, is a gap in the stone, not big, just wide enough to crawl through.
A cave.
The pull in my bones hums louder now, like a second heartbeat, my chest tightens and I stand there for a long moment, staring into the endless dark ahead.
Then I drop to my hands and knees, crawl through the gap, and slip inside.
The world shrinks around me, cold stone presses close, the floor is uneven some parts smooth, others sharp enough to slice flesh, I place each hand with care, my breath echoes off the walls, too loud in the silence, after what feels like forever, the walls begin to stretch wider, the ceiling lifting just enough for me to crouch, then stand.
I step forward into a vast, open area.
It's almost completely dark, but thin shafts of light break through cracks high above, cutting through the darkness, dust hangs in the air, drifting slowly like ash from a dying fire. The silence feels thick, heavy, every step I take echoes sharply, bouncing off walls I can't see.
I keep moving.
The pull inside me grows stronger with every step, a steady tug I can't ignore, but it feels right, so I follow it without question.
When I saw it, my body froze.
Not from fear.
But awe.
There it was.
Coiled like a mountain of living metal, its bronze scales shimmer in the dim light, I don't recognize it but I know what I'm looking at, that's a fucking dragon, first time I've ever seen one this close apart from the dreams.
I used to hear them sometimes, flying high over King's Landing, even when I was rotting in the pits. One dragon, in particular, kept appearing in my dreams, I'm pretty sure the connection I'm feeling now, the one pulling me deeper into this cave, is tied to that same dragon.
But this dragon?
This isn't it.
The dragon's body rises and falls with slow, deliberate breaths, steam curling from its nostrils. Its head is massive, crowned with jagged horns, eyes shut.
Until they aren't.
The moment they open, I can't deny my heart jumped.
Two molten gold eyes lock onto me and the beast lifts its head, nostrils flaring, it doesn't roar, it doesn't charge, it watches, curious like it's trying to figure out what I am.
I take a step back.
"Ah, fuck... sorry, mate," I mutter, voice small and scratchy. "Didn't mean to wake ya, just passin' through, I'll be on my way if you don't mind."
The dragon tilts its head, smoke curling from its jaws, it sniffs the air, and something shifts in its gaze, recognition? Hunger? I don't know, but I feel it, the tension, the change.
It bellows, a deep, harsh roar that rattles my bones and makes the air tremble, its head slowly turns toward the far end, where the darkness feels endless and alive. Then, without warning, it snaps back, eyes blazing, and hurls a scorching blast of flame straight at me.
The fire wraps around me like a warm breeze, licking at my clothes and skin, but then my clothes start to disintegrate and burn away, until I'm standing there, butt, ass naked, while the flames leave me completely untouched, I blink through the smoke, unfazed.
The dragon snarls.
"Well, that's bloody rude, burning my clothes off like that."
Then it lunges.
"Fuck fire can't hurt me but teeth still do!" I shout, bolting behind a jagged outcrop of stone as its jaws slam shut where I'd just stood.
The chase begins.
Naked and barefoot, I dart between jagged rocks, my small body sliding through cracks too tight for anything bigger to follow. The cold stone presses against my skin, but it's better than the dragon's jaws snapping just inches away.
The beast's fiery breath washes over me like a warm breeze, harmless, but it's the crushing weight of those massive claws and the snap of teeth I'm desperate to avoid.
I'm not really running, I'm dodging, diving, barely staying one step ahead as the dragon tries to squash me beneath its weight or clamp its jaws shut around me.
Every breath rattles my chest, every movement aches, but I keep going, slipping into shadows and crevices, clinging to whatever chance I've got to stay alive I'm desperate one wrong move one wrong choice, I'm dead and for good this time.
I dart around a bend, and suddenly the ground drops away beneath me, my foot catches on a loose stone, I hit the ground hard, tumbling down a steep slope.
Sharp rocks scrape and cut my bare skin as I roll, arms flailing, heart pounding, the light blurs and fades, and the dragon's roar grows distant behind me.
Pain stings everywhere, but I don't stop, I just keep going.
I land hard, skidding to a stop in the pitch black.
Silence.
Thick, suffocating silence.
Then, just beneath it, comes a low, slow rumble, wet and heavy, a deep, rough sound vibrating through the air.
Something breathes.
Not the giant bronze dragon, not my own breath.
A rough, rasping inhale comes from the darkness ahead, like something huge struggling to breathe in a tight space, the sound echoes off the stone, slow and steady, like it's been waiting, watching.
My heart pounds even more now, my eyes widen, and my chest burns, not with pain, but with something I can't explain, a feeling that's been growing inside me ever since I started having dreams.
I don't move.
I don't blink.
Because whatever's down here with me, I can feel its eyes on me.