Chapitre 20: Chapter 20 Argument
No sooner had Valarissa given the order than the two dragons sprang into action. With a roar that echoed through the cave, they pounced on the bulls. Their fiery breath engulfed the beasts, turning them into sizzling heaps of charred meat. The smell of burnt flesh filled the air as the dragons feasted, momentarily forgetting about Valarissa.
Leaving the dragons to their meal, Valarissa ventured deeper into the cave, her torch flickering precariously in the damp air. She heard a rustle, then a shift in the shadows, and turned towards a new opening. There, nestled amidst the rocks, she saw another dragon. This one was unlike Silverwing or Vermonthon. It was a hulking beast, its scales a muddy brown, its features twisted and grotesque. Valarissa's heart skipped a beat. She recognized it instantly – Sheepstealer.
The dragon was notorious for its love of sheep, its clumsy attempts at dragonriding, and its general lack of grace. Valarissa knew it was no threat to humans unless provoked, preferring mutton to any other meal. She saw the remnants of burned sheep scattered around the cave, confirming her suspicions.
Sheepstealer barely spared Valarissa a glance before settling back down, seemingly uninterested in her. However, Valarissa, still musing over the unnatural way the other dragons reacted to the bulls, decided to test a theory. Without much thought, she conjured a large, dead goat a short distance away.
But things didn't go as planned. Unlike the other dragons, Sheepstealer was wild and unpredictable. It didn't wait for Valarissa's permission. Before she could blink, the massive beast lunged, its fiery breath engulfing the goat in a flash. With a voracious appetite, it started tearing into the charred flesh like a famished ghost.
Valarissa, realizing her mistake, froze in panic. But before the Sheepstealer flames could consume her to death , a sudden force slammed into her, pushing her out of the way. She tumbled sideways, disoriented, only to see another figures locked on her into a struggle on the ground.
Valarissa sputtered, her lungs rebelling after the impact of the shove and the suddenness of it all. Coughing, she managed to take a deep breath and calm her racing heart. When her vision cleared, she saw a pair of piercing purple eyes staring at her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
"Uncle?" she managed, her voice barely a whisper. "Shouldn't you be with your...mistress?" she added, her voice regaining some of its usual sass as she tried to mask the tremor in her legs.
Her uncle, a tall, imposing figure. "A small 'thank you' would be a good start, wouldn't it, niece? I dragged you out of the jaws of that beast before your recklessness got you killed." Deamon stated,
"And I'm sure my brother wouldn't be pleased if he found out you were poking a dragon's nest and above all I brought you here"
"Thank you!" Valarissa blurted out, her voice still catching from the shock. But then, curiosity replaced her fear as she narrowed her eyes. "So, how long have you been following me, Uncle?"
Daemon's lips curled into a sly grin. "Let's just say, I haven't missed the sight of a fearless niece petting full-grown dragons and conjuring giant bulls for their dinner." He tilted his head, his gaze playful yet searching. "Care to share how you managed that, little Val?"
Valarissa met his gaze, her heart pounding a wild rhythm against her ribs. "You want to know my secrets, don't you?"
Daemon chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Of course I do, niece. But knowing your temperament, I doubt I'll get the full truth. So, no need to explain." He straightened up, his eyes flickering towards the still-feasting Sheepstealer.
"Looking at it, you're not after the biggest dragons, and a baby wouldn't be worth your long journey from Kingslanding," Deamon sighed, figuring things out. "So, spill it, which dragon are you here for? I thought you were eyeing Vermonthon but now it seem I was wrong" He raised an eyebrow, curious.
" Your wrong uncle I'm here for the largest Dragon, Cannabil," Valarissa declared, her voice firm.
The playful grin Deamon always wore vanished like smoke. "Do you understand what you're saying? Who filled your head with that crazy notion?" His voice boomed, anger crackling in the air.
"No need to fret, uncle," Valarissa said, her chin held high. "No one put me up to it. This is my choice, and I'm sticking to it. Please, don't try to change my mind."
"Whoa, hold on there!" Deamon exclaimed, his playful demeanor gone. "That dragon isn't just fierce, it's downright deadly. It even feasts on its own kind and eggs! No one's ever tamed it, not even for a glimpse. Anyone who dared got swallowed whole. It's pure, untamed chaos, and I won't let you waltz into its den! If I'd known you were after that beast, I'd never have brought you here." His voice was laced with concern, the anger tempered by fear for her safety.
Valarissa, however, met his gaze with a defiant glint in her eyes. "Funny, you sound just like Father now," she remarked, pushing herself to her feet despite his disapproving glare. "But I'm not a fragile doll to be sheltered away. I made my choice, and I won't let anyone, even you, deter me."
The tone had shifted. It was no longer a playful banter between uncle and niece.
"Fine," Deamon growled, his voice hard as flint. "You can choose what you wish to do but know this: so can I. And my choice is to get you back to my brother, even if I have to carry you kicking and screaming. Valarissa," he emphasized her name, "don't test my patience. I wouldn't want to hurt you if I don't have to, but I will stop you." His calm expression held a steely resolve, a promise of force tempered with reluctance.
Valarissa met his gaze, her own chin jutting out in defiance. "You can't cage me, uncle," she spat. "Today or tomorrow, this needs to be done. I have to try, and nothing, not even you, will stand in my way." Her voice was laced with conviction, a fire burning in her eyes that mirrored the determination in her voice.
She didn't know why, but she felt an unwavering pull towards Cannabil, an intuition as sharp as a dragon's claw urging her forward. And her past, had taught her one thing above all: never ignore the intuition from one's soul.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone