I stood, frozen, as a scaly black lizard dragon thing crawled out of the shattered egg. It didn't seem to be immediately hostile as it scanned its surroundings, its long, almost serpentine neck, turning left and right, before settling onto me, its small eyes ablaze like twin coals. It was about the size of a cat, but damn was I scared shitless of it. Still, seeing as it wasn't attacking me – at the moment – I bent down to try and pet the little fella. Since, I had no idea how it would react to me, however, I did as I would when meeting a cat for the first time. Slowly, very slowly, I held out my left hand and stopped inches away from it, the distance enough for the little dragon to close by itself if it wanted to. It snaked forward and began sniffing my fingers.

Off the top of my head, I couldn't really figure out which dragon from Monster Hunter this guy was; that said, it's not like I actually memorized every single monster in that game. Though, to be fair, I did play it a lot, especially on weekends; it was a good way to destress. I guess I'd find out when it became an adult. For now, I could sort of tame it, maybe, bond with it so that it doesn't eat me when it gets big enough; of course, it'd be pretty cool if I could give it orders when it was old enough. Every nerd's wet dream usually involved riding a dragon and, goddamnit, I was no exception.

Mother!

Oh shit.

I looked down and locked eyes with the little black dragon, because I knew – for a fact – that the voice I heard inside my head came from the little guy. Creepy, but I guess that made things really convenient. This way, we could actually communicate. "Can you understand me?"

Yes, mother.

"Nice." I smiled, the little dragon then hopped up and climbed atop my robe, before settling around and nuzzling into my neck, like a cat.

Need food. Need blood. Need to hear screams!

"Oy, calm down. You'll get food. But you're gonna have to chill it with the other two, because you're not getting either of those things – yet. Okay?" I said. Hmm... the proclivity for violence was alarming, but it wasn't like the Targaryen Dragons were peace-loving iguanas either. So, this wasn't totally unexpected. I'll have to work on it, however, because I did not want my dragon going around burning random towns and eating innocent people, just because it felt like it. Nah, not gonna happen.

Okay, mother. But maybe blood and screams later?

My eyes narrowed. Hmm... maybe I could set the dragon-cat on the Wildlings soon? It's not like I'd feel particularly bad about going all fire and blood on them; they certainly didn't care or feel bad when they went around burning, looting, pillaging, and raping. So, why the fuck should I give a flying fuck about them? Besides, I wanted to see just what the little guy was capable of and I couldn't think of better test dummies than those savages. "Okay. Some blood and screams later."

Happiness

Huh, that was a weird thing to say. Hmm... Ah, I see. Our communication wasn't based on speech, but emotion and instinct, like a connection between our minds. My little dragon cat felt happy and so conveyed that emotion into my head, but since my brain could only interpret it in very limited ways, it just told me, instead, what my dragon cat felt, which was happiness. Interesting and fascinating. But I'd have to give him or her an actual name, aside from dragon-cat. "You going to need a name."

Elaborate, mother. What is the purpose of a name?

Huh, good question. Damn it, the little black lizard was making me think philosophical things. Best keep it simple. I was talking to an infant, after all. "A name is a set of sounds or symbols that I – or a few others – can use to refer to you, specifically. Do you understand?"

Understanding. But seems unnecessary. Already possess name.

"Oh? And what's your name, little one?"

I am Fatalis!

Oh motherfucking fuck, it just had to be the infinite fuel flamethrower on wings, did it?

The dragon cat roars and unleashes a jet of flame that definitely ignored a bunch of physical and chemical laws because no cat-sized creature should've been capable of releasing enough flames to cause the waters around us to hiss and boil, scorching the cave walls black. The weirdest thing, however, was I... actually didn't feel any heat at all, which was weird, because I was pretty sure I should've just gotten roasted back there. But I didn't get roasted. I wasn't burned. My clothes were perfectly fine. Huh... that's weird.

What's going on here?

My eyes narrowed. Can the Fatalis control what gets burned and what doesn't?

"Hey, offspring, how come I'm not burnt?"

Fire alive. Can choose what burns and what doesn't. Dead fire no choose. Burn everything. Living fire die quickly.

The words were a little jumbled, but I got the gist of it. It can control, somewhat, what does and doesn't get burned by its fire, but only up to a certain point. That was good to know. It certainly made me feel a lot more comfortable with having a fire-breathing nuke lizard on my shoulder that, once it reached adulthood, would make any Targaryen dragon look like a garden-variety gecko. Okay, so I was safe, for now.

"You still need a name," I said, my brows furrowing. The baby fatalis kept quiet, which hopefully meant it was listening and waiting for me to actually come up with an actual name for it. After all, it understood the concept of a name, but simply found it unnecessary. Fair enough. If my memory of the game was correct, then the Fatalis was a singular existence, a god among monsters. It had no need for a name or any other identity. It was rage and destruction incarnate, the end of nations. But the little guy on my shoulders was most definitely not the end of nations or the incarnation of rage and destruction; it was just a baby. "Nightfury. Yes, like Hiccup's dragon cat. You shall be known as Nightfury. That name okay with you?"

Unnecessary, but won't argue. Name is fine.

Eh, good enough. Ya know, I've been extremely lucky, thus far, that my little black dragon, Nightfury, has been incredibly cooperative. "Let's go look for some food."

Yes. Very hungry.

I walked out of the cave and realized that, right in front of me was a huge ocean, which was probably filled with a lot of fish, right? I made my way to the beach and away from the sharp rocks. And, even from where I stood, I could see a bunch of little shadows swimming under the water – fish. And there were a lot of them. And, if I recalled correctly, salmon was abundant in colder climates, right? There had to be a lot of them in there. They were very nutritious, too. And I bet they'd be good food for a growing dragon. Maybe. No idea. But, I was taking guesses here. "Do you eat fish?"

Swimming things in water look delicious. Will try.

And then, without prompting, Nightfury leapt from my shoulders and into the icy-cold waters. I doubt it bothered him – or her – seeing as Nightfury seemed to be made entirely of super magical dragon fire. I doubted, very much, that the cold bothered him or her. Damn, I gotta figure out if Nightfury was male or female – or neither. With nothing to do as my cute little nuclear lizard disappeared underwater, I sat down on a nearby rock and waited, keeping my eyes on the sea, even if I really had no idea where the fuck-

A large explosion in the distance broke the silence, coming from underneath the surface of the water, followed by a large, hissing cloud of steam. And then... about a hundred different kinds of fish began floating up the surface – very dead. I saw Nightfury then, as it surfaced, chomping down on all the dead fish, one by one. And then, I noticed something... a bit weird. Nightfury was growing... larger, by the fucking second. But that was impossible, right? It'd been the size of a cat a few moments ago and now it was the size of a... well... a cat, but a Maine Coon, specifically, which was about three times larger.

The little fatalis gobbled up all the fish and immediately burst out of the water, before flying right towards me, seawater sliding off its scaly form. Yep, three times bigger than before. That was ridiculous. I stood up from my stone seat and waited. Nightfury then divebombed me and nestled back over my shoulder, almost pushing me off balance. Heavier than before, but not by much, luckily. "You're not hungry anymore?"

Hunger gone. Food good. Many swimming things to eat. Tasty. Filling.

And we were basically surrounded by water, which was filled with them. Good to know. At least, I wouldn't have to worry about food for the foreseeable future, unless the waters around Bear Island somehow ran out of fish. Nightfury didn't eat that much anyway.

My next concern was Nightfury's possible reaction to seeing other humans. See, in Monster Hunter, the Fatalis was known specifically as the biggest human hater in the entire setting. Its whole existence was dedicated to its hatred of humanity, which led it against the Hunters in the first place. But, that hatred existed because of some piece of lore that I never really read about, something called the Dragon War, where humans apparently turned the Geneva Convention into a checklist, but against Dragons. The Fatalis got fed up and decided to burn everything and everyone to a crisp. Nightfury was a baby. There was no Dragon War here. But, still, my hesitation remained because, realistically, there was nothing I could do against the walking, breathing flamethrower on meth – with wings!

"Do you know what humans are?" I asked, just to get that out of the way.

No.

"Good to know." If Nightfury had no idea what a human even was, then I had no cause to be alarmed – at least, not as much as I probably should. But, to be fair, Nightfury didn't seem like the flighty, panicky type; in fact, as a fatalis, I was pretty sure it couldn't even feel fear. "We're going to a place that's called a village. There are a lot of humans there. Humans are like me. Do not eat or burn or kill them – not unless I say so. Are you okay with that, Nightfury?"

Humans like mother. No kill, eat, or burn – unless told by mother.

"That's a good dragon." I said, smiling. Now, I suppose, with not much else to do, I decided it was finally time to get back to the village. As I walked, my mind wandered. A dragon was essentially the biggest and baddest weapon in the entirety of the setting, except maybe the Others, but no one's really sure about their capabilities anyway. I had a dragon of my own – a baby, sure enough, but if Nightfury's little growth spurt from earlier was any indication, it'd probably take less than a month for it to reach full maturity. Scary to think about, honestly. This meant, however, that I would soon find myself with a rather sizable amount of leverage over everyone who did not have their own dragons. I could force lords and ladies to listen to me, merely through the possibility that I might command Nightfury to turn their little castle into a pile of sizzling hot rocks.

The only people who may or may not be able to stand against me were the Targaryens, depending on the year, which reminded me of the fact that I still needed to ask Lysa about who the current king was.

Nightfury began purring – not like a cat, but like a car engine when you turn it on the morning, after a cold night. But it wasn't loud, fortunately enough, just really deep and powerful.

And, when I stepped into the village, anyone who caught so much as a single glimpse of Nightfury ran back into their homes, screaming and crying – children and adults alike, men and women.

Hmm. Well, that's unexpected.