Game of Thrones: Holy Flame King

The big ship rushed down the river out of the mouth of the Turbulent River and into the Summer Sea.

The eyes suddenly opened up, and the blue sea instantly filled the field of vision.

After the dragon was hatched in Tianji City, Samwell slipped away decisively.

After walking through the red mountains for a while, they arrived at Gaoyin City, then took a boat down the river and went straight to Yingzui Island.

By this time their ships had sailed out of the Turbulent River and into the Summer Sea. There is a faint salty smell in the air, and dolphins and flying fish shuttle in the waves, chasing the figures of ships.

A milky white baby dragon hovered between the masts. Although it was only the size of a kitten, it also made the captain frightened.

"Lord Caesar." He followed the white lightning-like figure in the sun, swallowing quietly, "You'd better put the dragon in a cage... Otherwise, if the boat burns..."

Samwell laughed loudly: "Don't worry, it won't spew fire randomly without my instructions. And it's still small, so it can't spit out much fire. Even if it catches your boat on fire, it can be saved."

The captain had no choice but to leave, and at the same time asked the sailors to prepare dozens of barrels of seawater on the deck, just in case.

"Sam, you must not lock up the dragon." Margaery reminded, "Back then the Targaryen family built a huge domed castle in King's Landing, called the 'Dragon Lair', and kept the royal family's dragons in it. Although the dragon's lair is very spacious, it is said that fifty horses can ride side by side, but even so, the dragons raised in the dragon's lair have not grown to the size of their ancestors, and they are deformed, thin, and short-lived.

Some scholars believe that the dragons of House Targaryen died out because the stone walls and domes restricted their growth. "

"Those bachelors are talking nonsense." The red-robed witch Melisandre said nonchalantly, "If the walls can really limit the size, then the nobles living in the tall castles should be countless times bigger than the farmers in the small wooden houses .”

Margaery wrinkled the tip of her delicate nose, and said somewhat dissatisfied: "Humans are different from dragons, it's best not to take risks."

Samwell smoothed things over with a smile: "Don't worry, I won't keep my dragon in captivity like a dog. Even if the wall doesn't limit the size, it will kill the wildness of the dragon."

"That's right!" Margaery smiled, very happy that the man was standing by her side, "By the way, Sam, have you figured out the name of this dragon?"

"Yeah." Samwell looked at the white dragon passing by the sea, with the corners of his mouth upturned, "It's called Cleopatra."

"Cleopatra?" Margaery frowned. "Is this the name of some ancient king? Or some ancient god? Why have I never heard of it?"

It's the name of Cleopatra, and you'll be surprised if you've heard it before.

Caesar's mount, that's what it should be called.

nothing wrong.

"This is the name I heard from the flames. It may be inspired by the gods." Samwell made up a reason casually.

Hearing this, Melisandre's eyes flickered with fire, as if she was thinking hard about the meaning of the name, whether R'hllor, the Lord of Light, had given her some enlightenment.

As if hearing her own name, Cleopatra flapped her wings to fan the steaming sea water, and flew in front of Samwell, stretching out her long snake-like neck and making a coquettish hiss.

Samwell took out a piece of raw fish from the bag and placed it in front of the little dragon, shaking it.

"Dragon Burn." He ordered softly.

Cleopatra immediately roared and spewed out orange-red flames, scorched the meat, and then swallowed it with sharp teeth.

"Sam, what language did you speak just now?" Margaret asked while holding her chin in her hand, looking at Xiaolong with great interest.

is Chinese. Samwell reached out and touched the young dragon's triangular head: "I made up the words. I was training it to understand commands, so I found a password that no one would say by chance."

"Oh." Margaery stretched out her slender hand, as if she also wanted to touch the dragon, but she didn't dare, "Can I touch it?"

"Touch it, with me here, it won't bite you."

Margaery touched Cleopatra's translucent wings carefully, then immediately retracted, giggling: "It's a little hot."

"Dragon is flesh and blood made of fire." Melisandre said in a pious tone, "and fire is power."

"Cleopatra." Margaery tried to call the white dragon's name.

It's a pity that Bailong ignored her.

Margaery pouted, and then laughed to herself: "This seems to be a female name, is it female?"

"You can't define a dragon by the gender of a mortal creature," Melisandre said.

"What do you mean?" Margaery tilted her head, "There are no male and female dragons?"

Melisandre shook her head: "The dragon has no gender, neither male nor female, constantly changing, swaying like a flame."

When Samwell heard this, he grabbed Cleopatra with his hands, turned it over, and found nothing that could identify the gender.

Bailong didn't seem to like this posture very much, he kept flapping his wings and hissing.

Samwell quickly let go of it, and took out another flying fish, and then he coaxed the little guy.

"Then how long can they live?" Margaret asked curiously.

Melisandre said: "According to the ancient records of Asshai, some dragons lived for a thousand years."

"I remember that Balerion, the 'Black Death' of the Targaryen family, died during the reign of Jaehaerys I the Arbiter, and lived for a total of more than two hundred years." Margaery lightly brushed her long hair that was blown by the sea breeze. , "The dragons of Westeros don't seem to live longer."

"That's because people from the Targaryen family don't know how to tame dragons." Melisandre said lightly.

"Do you understand?" Margaery glanced at the witch from Asshai.

"Of course." Melisandre held her head high, the ruby ​​in her throat sparkled with fire, "Giant dragons were born in the land of shadows east of Asshai. Hero's servant."

Hearing this, Margaery couldn't help retorting: "The Targaryen family doesn't believe in your Lord of Light, they serve the Seven Gods, and, if I remember correctly, none of Valyria's Dragon King family believe in it." Lord of Light."

Margaery has always been very wary of the red-robed witch who appeared next to Samwell. She was very worried that the other party would affect Samwell's mind and even make Sam convert to the Lord of Light.

In her opinion, the Seven Gods are the dominant belief in Westeros. If Samwell converts to the Lord of Light, he will easily encounter resistance from the nobles and commoners of the Seven Kingdoms.

Melisandre stared at Margaery with fiery eyes, and said:

"So the dragons of the Targaryen family died, their descendants were driven out of Westeros, and the Valyrian empire was also destroyed in a doomsday catastrophe. the punishment of mortals."

"Then you have served the Lord of Light for so long, and you haven't seen him grant you a giant dragon." Margaret's counterattack was quite sharp.

Melisandre responded calmly: "The true God has given me enough."

"Okay." Samwell interrupted the gunpowder-flavored argument between the two women, and said, "Ms. Melisandre, tell me about Yasha, what kind of place is there?"

He knew that Melisandre was trying to gain his trust, and many of the things she said were actually exaggerated.

However, he is a missionary after all, if he is not bragging and pretending to be mysterious, how can he attract believers.

The reason why the dragons of House Targaryen became extinct was actually because the tide of magic subsided.

The magic of Game of Thrones is like a tide, with its ebb and flow.

The dragon is a magical creature, so when the magic ebbs, it will naturally become extinct, and it has nothing to do with whether it is domesticated or not.

It has nothing to do with whether you believe in the Lord of Light or not.

A month ago, the red comet came, announcing that the magic tide was coming again, so he was able to awaken the magic dragon in the stone with the blood fire sacrifice.

Aegon V also used the same method at Summerhall, but nothing hatched. It wasn't because he didn't believe in the Lord of Light, but because magic was still in its ebb.

"Asshai is the most eastern part of the known world." Melisandre began to tell, her deep voice had a strange magic power,

"It is a city built along the black river of ashes, with an area as large as five King's Landing cities. All the buildings in the city are made of black rocks, which can absorb any light, so the daytime in Asshai is also cloudy. Heavy, and the night is truly pitch black.

Food cannot grow here, and the water of the River of Ashes cannot be drunk. Fortunately, Asshai produced a large amount of gold and precious stones, which could attract merchant ships to bring food and drinking water.

Asshai is also a city of magic. Wizards, alchemists, moonsingers, red priests, necromancers, sky mages, blood wizards, torturers, trial knights, priestesses, skinchangers, pale holy children...you can see them everywhere.

There are no taboos in Asshai, where believers in mysticism can show their spells at will, as long as they want, they can hold terrible rituals, trade with demons, and perform terrifying sorcery..."

"It's such a scary place." Margaery couldn't help leaning towards Samwell.

"I heard that Yasha is most famous as a Shadow Binder." Samwell looked at Melisandre with a half-smile.

He knew that Melisandre was actually a shadowbinder, who could drive shadows with the power of magic.

In the original book, Melisandre gave birth to a shadow for Duke Stannis Baratheon, and used it to kill his younger brother, Duke Renly Baratheon, and Cortanay, the acting lord of Storm's End. Sir Penrose.

In Tianji City before, Melisandre had proposed to help Samwell kill people, so she probably wanted to use the same method.

But when she introduced the occultists in Yashai just now, she intentionally left out the Shadow Binder.

"Yes, my lord, you can also see Shadowbinders in Asshai." Melisandre couldn't see anything strange on her face, "They like to cover their faces with painted masks, and they are the only ones who dare to walk along the ashes. One who goes up the river to the land of shadows."

"Then why aren't you wearing a mask?" Samwell stared at Melisandre's eyes, wanting to see panic from them.

However, no.

The red-robed woman's eyes were like blazing flames, hot and firm.

"Are you a Shadowbinder?" Margaery responded immediately.

"That's right." Melisandre nodded and admitted, but her attitude was obviously a little humble.

It seems that she was not as calm as she appeared to be when Samwell revealed her true identity.

"But aren't you a follower of the Lord of Light?" Margaery asked puzzled, "How could you be a Shadowbinder who manipulates shadows?"

"Why not?"

"Shadows are dark things."

"No, you are wrong. Where does the shadow come from in the darkness." Melisandre's answer was always so flawless, "Shadow is the servant of light, the descendant of flame."

Margaret was at a loss for words.

Samwell laughed out loud, not sure if he believed this set of rhetoric.