PinkSnake - Storm of the Stag - 405
infoAbout This Title
Chapter 405: The Stone Dragon Battles the True Dragon
The black tide surged in from Whispering Sound, and Oldtown was being swallowed by the sea. The single green flame atop the Hightower, meant to guide the way, seemed painfully small.
The city was already shrouded in violent wind and rain, black mist, and the black tide. Thunder and lightning crashed fiercely overhead, twisting the light, twisting the world.
The funnel shape of Whispering Sound had always made Oldtown a gentle, sheltered deepwater harbor. No one had ever imagined the sea’s fury could reach the city.
“Seven Gods,” Moryn Tyrell, commander of the Oldtown garrison, lamented from his watchtower.
The spearmen and crossbowmen defending Oldtown’s walls had all been swept into the sea. Some drowned, while others were devoured by Kraken.
“The sea is angry.”
“The sea is angry.”
“Father Above, we are all sinful lambs.” In the streets of Oldtown, as Doom descended, many began reciting the Seven-Pointed Star.
“There’s a Kraken! Gods!” the fishermen cried, feeling as if the tales they had heard as children had come alive. The great sea monsters had come with the waves to overturn ships.
“Save us, Lord Leyton, Lord Baelor!”
“The Hightower! We have to go to the Hightower!” Faced with death, many citizens of Oldtown wailed in despair. The Hightower had once been their only hope.
They raised the Hightower banner: a stepped white tower crowned with a burning beacon on a smoke-gray field.
Then a wave struck hard. The ground shifted beneath their feet, and both people and banner were knocked down at once.
With a roar, the waves toppled the barriers into the sea. A Kraken like a giant squid stretched out its tentacles, stuffing humans and animals into its mouth.
Terrible weather, dreadful sounds, distorted light and color.
A thin mist rose from the sea, as if the Storm God were raging, determined to shake everything into dust.
“The Kraken has come,” Lord Leyton Hightower murmured as he stared at the unbelievable scene before him. “And are there winged shadows as well? Will Oldtown be destroyed like this after all, just as the prophecy said?”
The black tide surged forward, and the largest wave swept straight over even the tallest city walls.
The city’s cobblestone roads split open. Seawater roared out of sewers and ditches, flooding everything before it, surging like galloping horses.
In the distance, Oldtown’s docks had long since been burned into charred ruins. Only broken hulls and wreckage floated there now.
Upstream, riverboats were still frantically carrying goods away, loaded with books from the Citadel, but it was nowhere near enough.
At the Hightower, the reefs around its base looked as if they had been hacked into shape by axes and blades. The riverboats still trying to carry away stores of gold were tossed wildly in the waves, some hurled straight into the sea, unable to make the journey after all.
“It is time for Oldtown to fly a new banner,” Malora said.
The madwoman stood by the window, looking out at the scene of Doom. At the edge of the Hightower, the wind howled beyond the window with a force that chilled the heart.
The storm was the Storm God’s power, and crows were the Storm God’s favored creatures.
The wind came rolling in from the west, proof that the Storm God had received a rich gift. Pleased, the god had sent down the storm.
The madwoman looked at the chaos before her, feeling her soul tremble as if struck by lightning. “The age of magic has come.”
Leyton looked at his daughter’s long silver hair, unsure whether the path they had chosen was the right one.
“Light the way,” Leyton said.
“This is the way,” the madwoman said, looking at her father.
“The way is that ‘Stag’ King Gendry the Breaker will not be a match for ‘Kraken’ King Euron Greyjoy. This battle will decide who the true king is.”
“I hope you are right.” Leyton nodded.
“A terrible king. The only king who wields magic.” Leyton looked at the sea boiling below. It was just as the legends said. Only sacrifice could bring power.
Crow’s Eye had sacrificed tens of thousands, so the Drowned God and the Storm God had felt joy and satisfaction.
“Did you learn of this power from the scrolls?” Leyton asked his daughter.
“I did, but it is a harsh ritual and a bloody offering. Those without a Talent for magic cannot please the Storm God.”
“Men are sheep tended by the gods. Naturally, the gods will rejoice,” Leyton murmured.
Most of the old, primal faiths were evil and bloody. Compared with them, the Seven were practically well-behaved children. At least the Seven did not demand human sacrifice.
“I need to see the visions in the fire. I need to reach the true king,” the madwoman said. Then she left the window and walked toward the glass candle twisted like a sword, staring straight into the white light.
“I have decided to awaken the sleeping Stone Dragon,” Leyton said. “The Citadel has already awakened the sleeping Sphinx.”
“Wake the Stone Dragon, Father,” the madwoman said, agreeing with Leyton.
“You do not object?”
“The stone Dragon and the Sphinx are no match for Crow’s Eye. If Crow’s Eye cannot even defeat false dragons, where will he find the confidence to defeat a true Dragon?”
The color of the glass candle’s flame was strange. White as fresh snow, yellow as molten gold, red as flame, yet the shadow it cast was so black it seemed like a hole in the world.
The madwoman’s long silver hair stirred in the wind, but the glass candle remained unchanged. She looked into the flame. Images would appear in the fire, guiding her toward the distant sea.
The madwoman murmured to the flame, as if someone were truly speaking with her.
Lord Leyton walked to his seat and rang the bell on the table.
The bell chimed softly.
Lord Leyton’s steward came up from below. “My lord, do you wish to go upstairs?”
Leyton shook his head. “No. I want to see the hornblower.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A moment later, a middle-aged man in gray glazed armor entered the room, a twisted horn three feet long hanging at his chest.
The horn had been made from ox horn, engraved with Valyrian runes of many colors, and inlaid with gold, red gold, black iron, and rubies.
“My Lord.”
“Ormund, the Citadel’s Sphinx has appeared, and the Kraken has revealed itself. We need the Stone Dragon to protect Oldtown.”
“I understand. I will sound the horn.” The hornblower nodded. “That is our duty. Only after the Red Comet did the horn become capable of awakening it.”
“But I must remind you, the Stone Dragon is not a true Dragon. Its firepower is limited after all. The Sphinx is the same.”
“It is not a true Dragon, but it can solve our immediate crisis.”
“If the Stone Dragon cannot kill Crow’s Eye, I will choose to surrender.”
“I know. That is your choice. Light the way, though I still feel the true Dragon will win.”
“You say that because you still have Dragon blood.” Leyton looked at the hornblower.
“I only think things are not that simple. Gendry would not go into battle blindly.” Ormund shook his head.
“I have Dragon blood, but I am Hightower above all.”
The storm at sea grew fiercer, and Oldtown was beset by danger on every side.
Ormund Hightower raised the horn with both hands and blew. The sound swelled higher and higher, until the ancient Valyrian glyphs carved into the horn began to glow red.
The horn blast cut through the air like a sharp blade.
Its sound rang out from the Hightower, loud and deadly.
A terrible sound. A terrible scream. A voice filled with fury and pain, a sound that would displease the gods.
Ormund’s cheeks swelled like great balls, as if they might burst at any moment, and the muscles of his chest twitched violently.
The runes on the horn shone with brilliant light, then began to twist.
The horn’s call echoed again and again, like a demonic cry from hell.
Then the sound stopped at once. The hornblower deflated, and the horn fell to the floor. The ox horn shattered, and the runes upon it lost their light.
A thin wisp of smoke rose from the broken pieces. The hornblower’s mouth was covered in blood and blisters.
Crack.
Crack.
Beside the beacon of the Hightower, the walls split open. A black stone Dragon hidden within the masonry soared into the sky, then spiraled down around the Hightower, spraying fire ceaselessly toward the water below.
“A stone Dragon.” Lord Leyton looked upon House Hightower’s masterpiece.
It was made from the rotting body and skeleton of a recently dead Dragon, pieced together with black stone. Its draconic form was carved with magical markings and set with jewels.
It drew power from all sorts of rubies, but what the Dragon sprayed was still black flame, magically strengthened fire oil.
Shadow fire, but not a true Dragon. The thing had no mind. It only knew how to breathe fire.
“What is happening?” Soldiers in one of Oldtown’s barracks looked at one another, feeling only that great, surging call.
The city walls had already been submerged and broken apart, and the barracks could not escape either.
“Get into small boats. Get into small boats,” one soldier suggested.
“What small boats are left?”
These soldiers were only new recruits brought here for training. None of them had expected to encounter such uncanny things.
The waters of the Honeywine swelled violently, as did the water in Oldtown’s sewers and canals. Oldtown was, after all, a port city.
The tide and the downpour had brought a water crisis, followed by collapsing buildings and the rampage of the Kraken.
Oldtown’s city hall seemed to rise abruptly, followed by a chaotic crash of shattering and collapse. Glass, stone walls, and pillars fell and broke apart. The magnificent city hall was destroyed in an instant.
Human screams echoed through Oldtown. Most of the barracks were beside city hall.
“Run!”
Countless tentacles unfurled from drainage outlets and from the cresting tide like bloodstained man-eating flowers, sweeping up everything around them.
The Kraken either devoured them or flung away their crushed flesh and blood.
Whether by design or by chance, the seawater had not yet reached the Citadel at the farthest upstream edge.
The Honeywine wound through the heart of the ancient city.
But now it was not the river’s power at work. It was the sea roaring like Doom itself.
“Roar.”
Great beasts appeared where sea and sky met, but the stone Dragon and the Sphinx seemed confined to only a small part of the battlefield.
Chapter 405: The Stone Dragon Battles the True Dragon
The black tide surged in from Whispering Sound, and Oldtown was being swallowed by the sea. The single green flame atop the Hightower, meant to guide the way, seemed painfully small.
The city was already shrouded in violent wind and rain, black mist, and the black tide. Thunder and lightning crashed fiercely overhead, twisting the light, twisting the world.
The funnel shape of Whispering Sound had always made Oldtown a gentle, sheltered deepwater harbor. No one had ever imagined the sea’s fury could reach the city.
“Seven Gods,” Moryn Tyrell, commander of the Oldtown garrison, lamented from his watchtower.
The spearmen and crossbowmen defending Oldtown’s walls had all been swept into the sea. Some drowned, while others were devoured by Kraken.
“The sea is angry.”
“The sea is angry.”
“Father Above, we are all sinful lambs.” In the streets of Oldtown, as Doom descended, many began reciting the Seven-Pointed Star.
“There’s a Kraken! Gods!” the fishermen cried, feeling as if the tales they had heard as children had come alive. The great sea monsters had come with the waves to overturn ships.
“Save us, Lord Leyton, Lord Baelor!”
“The Hightower! We have to go to the Hightower!” Faced with death, many citizens of Oldtown wailed in despair. The Hightower had once been their only hope.
They raised the Hightower banner: a stepped white tower crowned with a burning beacon on a smoke-gray field.
Then a wave struck hard. The ground shifted beneath their feet, and both people and banner were knocked down at once.
With a roar, the waves toppled the barriers into the sea. A Kraken like a giant squid stretched out its tentacles, stuffing humans and animals into its mouth.
Terrible weather, dreadful sounds, distorted light and color.
A thin mist rose from the sea, as if the Storm God were raging, determined to shake everything into dust.
“The Kraken has come,” Lord Leyton Hightower murmured as he stared at the unbelievable scene before him. “And are there winged shadows as well? Will Oldtown be destroyed like this after all, just as the prophecy said?”
The black tide surged forward, and the largest wave swept straight over even the tallest city walls.
The city’s cobblestone roads split open. Seawater roared out of sewers and ditches, flooding everything before it, surging like galloping horses.
In the distance, Oldtown’s docks had long since been burned into charred ruins. Only broken hulls and wreckage floated there now.
Upstream, riverboats were still frantically carrying goods away, loaded with books from the Citadel, but it was nowhere near enough.
At the Hightower, the reefs around its base looked as if they had been hacked into shape by axes and blades. The riverboats still trying to carry away stores of gold were tossed wildly in the waves, some hurled straight into the sea, unable to make the journey after all.
“It is time for Oldtown to fly a new banner,” Malora said.
The madwoman stood by the window, looking out at the scene of Doom. At the edge of the Hightower, the wind howled beyond the window with a force that chilled the heart.
The storm was the Storm God’s power, and crows were the Storm God’s favored creatures.
The wind came rolling in from the west, proof that the Storm God had received a rich gift. Pleased, the god had sent down the storm.
The madwoman looked at the chaos before her, feeling her soul tremble as if struck by lightning. “The age of magic has come.”
Leyton looked at his daughter’s long silver hair, unsure whether the path they had chosen was the right one.
“Light the way,” Leyton said.
“This is the way,” the madwoman said, looking at her father.
“The way is that ‘Stag’ King Gendry the Breaker will not be a match for ‘Kraken’ King Euron Greyjoy. This battle will decide who the true king is.”
“I hope you are right.” Leyton nodded.
“A terrible king. The only king who wields magic.” Leyton looked at the sea boiling below. It was just as the legends said. Only sacrifice could bring power.
Crow’s Eye had sacrificed tens of thousands, so the Drowned God and the Storm God had felt joy and satisfaction.
“Did you learn of this power from the scrolls?” Leyton asked his daughter.
“I did, but it is a harsh ritual and a bloody offering. Those without a Talent for magic cannot please the Storm God.”
“Men are sheep tended by the gods. Naturally, the gods will rejoice,” Leyton murmured.
Most of the old, primal faiths were evil and bloody. Compared with them, the Seven were practically well-behaved children. At least the Seven did not demand human sacrifice.
“I need to see the visions in the fire. I need to reach the true king,” the madwoman said. Then she left the window and walked toward the glass candle twisted like a sword, staring straight into the white light.
“I have decided to awaken the sleeping Stone Dragon,” Leyton said. “The Citadel has already awakened the sleeping Sphinx.”
“Wake the Stone Dragon, Father,” the madwoman said, agreeing with Leyton.
“You do not object?”
“The stone Dragon and the Sphinx are no match for Crow’s Eye. If Crow’s Eye cannot even defeat false dragons, where will he find the confidence to defeat a true Dragon?”
The color of the glass candle’s flame was strange. White as fresh snow, yellow as molten gold, red as flame, yet the shadow it cast was so black it seemed like a hole in the world.
The madwoman’s long silver hair stirred in the wind, but the glass candle remained unchanged. She looked into the flame. Images would appear in the fire, guiding her toward the distant sea.
The madwoman murmured to the flame, as if someone were truly speaking with her.
Lord Leyton walked to his seat and rang the bell on the table.
The bell chimed softly.
Lord Leyton’s steward came up from below. “My lord, do you wish to go upstairs?”
Leyton shook his head. “No. I want to see the hornblower.”
“Yes, my lord.”
A moment later, a middle-aged man in gray glazed armor entered the room, a twisted horn three feet long hanging at his chest.
The horn had been made from ox horn, engraved with Valyrian runes of many colors, and inlaid with gold, red gold, black iron, and rubies.
“My Lord.”
“Ormund, the Citadel’s Sphinx has appeared, and the Kraken has revealed itself. We need the Stone Dragon to protect Oldtown.”
“I understand. I will sound the horn.” The hornblower nodded. “That is our duty. Only after the Red Comet did the horn become capable of awakening it.”
“But I must remind you, the Stone Dragon is not a true Dragon. Its firepower is limited after all. The Sphinx is the same.”
“It is not a true Dragon, but it can solve our immediate crisis.”
“If the Stone Dragon cannot kill Crow’s Eye, I will choose to surrender.”
“I know. That is your choice. Light the way, though I still feel the true Dragon will win.”
“You say that because you still have Dragon blood.” Leyton looked at the hornblower.
“I only think things are not that simple. Gendry would not go into battle blindly.” Ormund shook his head.
“I have Dragon blood, but I am Hightower above all.”
The storm at sea grew fiercer, and Oldtown was beset by danger on every side.
Ormund Hightower raised the horn with both hands and blew. The sound swelled higher and higher, until the ancient Valyrian glyphs carved into the horn began to glow red.
The horn blast cut through the air like a sharp blade.
Its sound rang out from the Hightower, loud and deadly.
A terrible sound. A terrible scream. A voice filled with fury and pain, a sound that would displease the gods.
Ormund’s cheeks swelled like great balls, as if they might burst at any moment, and the muscles of his chest twitched violently.
The runes on the horn shone with brilliant light, then began to twist.
The horn’s call echoed again and again, like a demonic cry from hell.
Then the sound stopped at once. The hornblower deflated, and the horn fell to the floor. The ox horn shattered, and the runes upon it lost their light.
A thin wisp of smoke rose from the broken pieces. The hornblower’s mouth was covered in blood and blisters.
Crack.
Crack.
Beside the beacon of the Hightower, the walls split open. A black stone Dragon hidden within the masonry soared into the sky, then spiraled down around the Hightower, spraying fire ceaselessly toward the water below.
“A stone Dragon.” Lord Leyton looked upon House Hightower’s masterpiece.
It was made from the rotting body and skeleton of a recently dead Dragon, pieced together with black stone. Its draconic form was carved with magical markings and set with jewels.
It drew power from all sorts of rubies, but what the Dragon sprayed was still black flame, magically strengthened fire oil.
Shadow fire, but not a true Dragon. The thing had no mind. It only knew how to breathe fire.
“What is happening?” Soldiers in one of Oldtown’s barracks looked at one another, feeling only that great, surging call.
The city walls had already been submerged and broken apart, and the barracks could not escape either.
“Get into small boats. Get into small boats,” one soldier suggested.
“What small boats are left?”
These soldiers were only new recruits brought here for training. None of them had expected to encounter such uncanny things.
The waters of the Honeywine swelled violently, as did the water in Oldtown’s sewers and canals. Oldtown was, after all, a port city.
The tide and the downpour had brought a water crisis, followed by collapsing buildings and the rampage of the Kraken.
Oldtown’s city hall seemed to rise abruptly, followed by a chaotic crash of shattering and collapse. Glass, stone walls, and pillars fell and broke apart. The magnificent city hall was destroyed in an instant.
Human screams echoed through Oldtown. Most of the barracks were beside city hall.
“Run!”
Countless tentacles unfurled from drainage outlets and from the cresting tide like bloodstained man-eating flowers, sweeping up everything around them.
The Kraken either devoured them or flung away their crushed flesh and blood.
Whether by design or by chance, the seawater had not yet reached the Citadel at the farthest upstream edge.
The Honeywine wound through the heart of the ancient city.
But now it was not the river’s power at work. It was the sea roaring like Doom itself.
“Roar.”
Great beasts appeared where sea and sky met, but the stone Dragon and the Sphinx seemed confined to only a small part of the battlefield.
groupArtist
1k+
PinkSnakeverified
photo_library20 albums
visibility47.1K views
View Profile arrow_forward
Comments (0)