In the sky, the golden dragon fell from the heavens like a burning golden meteor.
Aegon the Second clung tightly to his neck, feeling the wind whistling past his ears, feeling the sky and earth spinning before his eyes. Sunfyre, falling from the sky, used the last of his strength to curl his entire body. He wanted to hold Aegon in his embrace.
BOOM!!
A loud crash rang out.
Smoke and dust rose from the forest.
Everyone heard that loud noise. The Green soldiers stopped fleeing and looked toward the forest. There, smoke and dust slowly rose.
"The king's dragon... the dragon has fallen..."
"It's the golden one..."
"His Grace! His Grace is still on his dragon!"
The crowd erupted in exclamations.
Galwyn reined in his horse and looked toward the forest, his face turning blue.
His Grace has fallen from his dragon. Will His Grace die? Should he go to help? But the two dragons in the sky are still there...
He looked up.
Meleys and Caraxes circled in the air, watching the forest.
What are they waiting for?
---
On the city wall, Lord Staunton gripped the battlements and watched the dragon battle.
"A dragon has fallen..." the knight beside him muttered. "The golden one is the Green king's dragon..."
Staunton was silent. He looked at the two black dragons in the sky and suddenly felt a ominous premonition.
Why aren't they moving? What are they waiting for?
---
In the sky, Rhaenys held Meleys back, looking at the forest.
"Is he dead?" Daemon flew over on Caraxes.
Rhaenys was silent a moment. "I don't know," she said loudly. "But..."
She suddenly stopped.
A strange feeling came over her.
What's wrong?
She snapped her head around, scanning the sky.
Empty.
Vhagar was not there.
Lothron was not there.
Aemond was not there.
"Daemon." Her voice grew tense. "Where is Aemond?"
Daemon was stunned.
Aemond? What about Aemond? This is his war, his plan, his army. He should be here, riding Vhagar, fighting them. But he is not here. From beginning to end, he was not here.
How important is it that he is not participating in this battle at Rook's Rest?
"He..."
Before Daemon could finish, his face suddenly changed, growing ugly.
He remembered something.
Dragonstone.
Rhaenyra.
"Damn!" He cursed and yanked the reins of the Blood Wyrm Caraxes.
"Rhaenys! Dragonstone!"
But Rhaenys did not move.
She stared at the forest, at the cloud of smoke, a vision flashing through her mind.
This child—Aegon Targaryen. The eldest son of Viserys the First. But no matter what Aegon had done, he did not deserve to die here. He is a Targaryen. He is not that damned Aemond...
"Rhaenys!" Daemon roared. "Aemond may be raiding Dragonstone! What are you still doing here, thinking about?!"
Rhaenys drew a deep breath.
"I will return to Dragonstone first!"
Daemon nodded and glanced at his left wing, wounded by the Blood Wyrm. Sunfyre's madness had damaged Caraxes's wing. He could still fly, but his speed had clearly dropped significantly. The Blood Wyrm was also very angry, snarling viciously—he wanted to tear the golden dragon apart.
The two dragons turned and flew east, quickly disappearing into the clouds.
---
In the forest, smoke and dust gradually dispersed.
Sunfyre lay on the scorched earth, his golden scales smeared with dirt and blood. Falling from the sky, his whole body had curled into a ball, trying to protect Aegon in the center.
At this moment, Sunfyre was dying, letting out helpless low cries. He tried with all his might to touch Aegon with his dragon head. But Aegon was strapped to the dragon's saddle and had already lost consciousness. Blood trickled from Aegon's nose and mouth; his whole body trembled.
"Your Grace!"
Ser Criston Cole rushed over first. He dismounted, stumbling to Aegon, hastily unbuckling the saddle straps.
"Your Grace! Your Grace!"
Aegon did not answer.
Cole's heart sank.
He remembered the instructions Queen Alicent had given him recently. He had agreed. He had sworn to protect the king. But now...
Cole snapped his head around and shouted to the soldiers following him. "Quick! Find a stretcher! Find a maester! Faster!"
The soldiers scattered in panic.
Cole knelt beside Aegon.
Looking at the pale, bloodied Aegon the Second, a fierce anger rose in his heart.
Aemond! Where in the seven hells are you?!
---
In the distance, the scattered Green army gathered in the forest.
Commander Galwyn rode up and looked at the scene before him, his face dark enough to drip water.
"Ser Cole, His Grace..."
"Alive." Cole gritted his teeth. "But..."
He did not finish.
But everyone knew that surviving a fall from such a height was a true miracle.
Galwyn was silent a moment, then suddenly asked, "His Grace will not die, will he?"
Cole did not answer.
Galwyn stared at him. "Ser Cole? His Grace..."
"Will he die?"
Cole looked at him, his eyes bloodshot. "You ask me? Who should I ask?"
Cole sighed and looked at Aegon the Second, unconscious in the dragon's saddle. As the strongest knight in the Seven Kingdoms, he knew very well that after falling from such a height, Aegon—unconscious, vomiting blood—clearly had internal bleeding...
May the Seven Gods bless you...
---
In the distance, on the walls of Rook's Rest, Lord Staunton watched as the Blacks' dragons vanished into the sky and the scattered Green army retreated into the forest. His heart was conflicted.
Had he won? Had he held?
But he was not happy at all. Because the Blacks' two dragons had flown away—not because they could not win. But because there was something more important?
What in the seven hells is happening?
Lord Staunton did not know. He only knew that it was not over yet. Thinking of this, he angrily struck the stone wall.
Lord Staunton felt some regret. He had always supported Rhaenyra because of his long-standing loyalty to Queen Emma. Now he admitted there was an element of gambling in it. He gambled that Rhaenyra would win, and he would be the only Crownlord to support Rhaenyra after the war. The reward he could receive would be extremely generous.
But now he was a little afraid. Who would have thought the Blacks were so unreliable? In the middle of the war, they suddenly stopped fighting? What was he supposed to do?
---
In the forest, the sunset's afterglow filtered through the leaves.
Aegon lay on a maester's stretcher, his face very pale, blood constantly seeping from the corners of his mouth.
Grievously wounded and dying, the one-eyed dragon Sunfyre lay curled up. He did not stop these people, his remaining good dragon eye gazing sorrowfully at his master Aegon the Second being carried away.
"Rrrr..." Sunfyre raised his head to the sky and let out a pained roar.
Cole walked beside the stretcher, saying nothing.
Galwyn rode on his horse, looking at the darkening sky in the distance.
Aemond, where are you? What are you trying to do?
The sudden attack had burned at least seven or eight hundred men. If not for Daemon and Rhaenys's sudden retreat, the entire army would have completely collapsed. But at the moment, Lord Staunton's army posed no threat—they were mostly conscripted peasants.
Galwyn glanced at Aegon the Second, grievously wounded and dying, and drew a deep breath. He did not know how to explain this to his sister Alicent...