A Book of Ice and Fire / Game of Thrones : Magic Network

After opening the door, the tamed Viserys retreated step by step with his head bowed low in obeisance.

Joffrey entered the chamber alone.

Within the exquisite, intimate bedchamber, warmed by a crackling hearth, Daenerys lay curled upon the bed, her delicate eyebrows drawn together in the slightest of frowns.

The girl's breath came in a gentle rhythm, causing the lace nightgown draped across her form to rise and fall in hypnotic cadence.

As she drew breath, her chest stretched the nightgown taut, revealing glimpses of fair skin without concealment. As she exhaled, the diaphanous garment gradually reclaimed its place, veiling the delicate curves it had momentarily betrayed.

Her tranquil, graceful repose, the silver hair spilling across the pillow in artful disarray, that shy, melancholic, yet bewitchingly delicate face...

What a vision of sublime beauty.

She inspired both tender reverence and savage desire—a contradiction that stirred conflicting impulses within the beholder.

Joffrey approached the bedside with silent steps.

After admiring her for a moment, he reached out his right hand and pressed it against a milky white sphere that rested beside her slumbering form.

So warm, the dragon egg.

He felt the heat and vitality emanating from within its crystalline shell.

It lived. It grew.

Joffrey observed the subtle changes in the dragon egg. Its surface bore a faint layer of red luminescence—the radiance of fire magic.

The once-dormant fire runes now actively devoured source energy from some unseen wellspring, transforming it into motes of fire magic energy. Perhaps they prepared for the birth of a magical dragon, or perhaps this was simply the natural order of things.

Beside this milky white dragon egg with its golden striations, the other two eggs also rested.

The pitch-black dragon egg exhibited a state similar to that of the milky white specimen.

The deep green bronze dragon egg, however, seemed to pulse with even greater vitality. Tyrion had taken to cradling it as he slept, bestowing upon it the name "Wildfire."

Wildfire—that masterpiece of the pyromancers of the Alchemist's Guild. A green, viscous liquid that could reduce flesh and steel alike to ash, capable of burning even upon water's surface, bearing uncanny resemblance to dragonflame.

Having witnessed so much, Tyrion now held absolute faith that the dragon eggs would eventually hatch.

Joffrey, however, understood that patience remained necessary.

He had attempted numerous methods to quicken their hatching.

He had provided the dragon eggs with what seemed the ideal environment: perpetual flame, crystals brimming with source energy, abundant growth magic energy and fire magic energy.

The dragon eggs had remained inert.

He had placed each egg before him and crafted new runes. Unlike other magical implements, the rune energy within the dragon eggs had not responded to external stimuli.

This suggested they were not mere inanimate objects, but living beings capable of preventing rune energy from escaping their confines.

He had attempted to forge contracts through contract runes, yet the dragon eggs had offered no response.

Recalling the methods used to control the great lion Rain, he had imprinted mirror images of fire, growth, and contract runes upon the dragon eggs, but these impressions had remained upon the outer shells, unable to integrate with the tiny lives nestled within.

The Research Department had even conducted blood sacrifices on multiple occasions—one life, ten lives, a hundred lives, various races, different identities.

The dragon eggs had remained unmoved, the revival of their inherent runes proceeding at the same slow, deliberate pace.

Though the eggs undeniably lived and grew, when did they intend to hatch?

Fire, blood, magic—the external conditions had been optimized to perfection. What further catalyst might they require?

A familiar aura, perhaps? The Valyrian bloodline?

It was precisely this conjecture that had led Joffrey to entrust all three dragon eggs to Daenerys and even have her preside over blood sacrifices, offering victims with the involvement of Valyrian blood.

But the results had fallen short of expectations.

The dragon eggs had indeed exhibited certain changes—the runes grew more active, and they felt warmer to the touch—but still showed no sign of imminent hatching.

Having eliminated one false path after another, Joffrey found himself drawn to the sole remaining variable: the red comet.

In the original timeline, Daenerys had conducted a ceremony beneath the red comet that streaked across the heavens, exchanging fire, blood, and souls for the birth of magical dragons.

The entire process had been remarkably simple, almost crude in its execution.

She had known no arcane incantations, possessed no mystical artifacts. She had merely walked into the flames and emerged bearing three infant dragons.

Red comet. Joffrey stroked the fine scales of the dragon egg, lost in contemplation.

During the reign of King Aegon the Dragon, the survival and reproduction of dragons had proceeded normally, not unlike that of other creatures. Many dragon eggs had hatched successfully in those days.

Later, the Targaryen dragons not only turned upon one another in fratricidal conflict, but the young dragons that hatched grew progressively fewer. Their bodies gradually diminished in size until they became deformed and weakened, dying shortly after birth. Eventually, no dragon eggs hatched at all.

As dragons vanished from the world, magic too began to fade.

More than one source in the original timeline had noted that following the appearance of dragons and the red comet, magical power had surged markedly.

The connection was undeniable.

Dragons and magic shared some profound, mysterious bond.

Some claimed that dragons brought magic, and that their demise had likewise diminished it—causing summers to shorten and winters to lengthen progressively.

Yet after dragons had vanished entirely, magic had not disappeared completely from Westeros and Essos. The Others, skinchangers, warlocks, and shadowbinders had continued their practices, albeit with diminished potency.

Magic had declined, not disappeared.

Moreover, Joffrey had verified through personal experience that magic retained some measure of its power even before the dragons' revival.

Perhaps, then, the relationship between dragons and magic might be the reverse of what was commonly assumed.

A theory began to coalesce in his mind.

It was not that dragons brought magic, but that magic brought dragons.

As creatures of immense magical potential, perhaps the survival and reproduction of dragons required a sufficiently magical environment. Source energy? Magical energy? Or some other element entirely?

Joffrey found this hypothesis compelling.

The ancient behemoths of Earth had depended on high oxygen concentrations and other specific conditions to survive. Fire-breathing, flying dragons must surely have their own environmental requirements.

If this were indeed the case, then what the dragon eggs needed most for hatching was neither fire nor blood, but a magical environment conducive to their survival.

Magic ebbed and flowed, and dragons prospered or declined accordingly.

Red comet.

Joffrey felt a stirring of anticipation.

If the present represented the nadir of magical influence, and the appearance of the red comet heralded a new surge in magical energy...

Then not only dragons but his own magical empire would flourish as never before.

What was the truth?

Joffrey could not be certain. Theories remained mere speculation until proven through tangible evidence.

He would have to wait with patience.

When the red comet appeared in the sky, the changes in magical energy would provide the answer he sought.

He could only hope it would be the answer he desired.

He withdrew his hand from the dragon egg and turned his attention once more to the sleeping Daenerys.

With this Princess of the Dragon bloodline in his possession, even if he merely repeated the methods employed in the original timeline, he could at least ensure the hatching of the dragon eggs.

Once the young dragons were born, methods of taming them would surely present themselves.

"Dragon... don't..." Daenerys murmured in her sleep, her expression betraying a hint of fear.

Joffrey smoothed her hair, allowing his fingers to trail gently across her cheek, collarbone, and back. Daenerys remained lost in her dream.

This was not the first such occurrence. Since coming into contact with the dragon eggs, Daenerys had frequently succumbed to slumber during daylight hours.

Joffrey recognized these as the fabled "dragon dreams"—visions unique to those of true dragon blood, said to possess prophetic qualities.

He lay down beside Daenerys and wrapped his arms around the trembling girl.

Then, with practiced ease, he entered her dream.

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