The first bout of dizziness had snapped him out of his awe. But by then he was too far away from home, with nothing but the sea under him and skies above. But then again the skies were always above him even if the seas were not.
Aenar tried to call out to Cannibal, to turn back home. But he was not accustomed to speaking so high in the air, with the wind lashing against his face as harshly as It did. Most of the time he choked on that air, and other times he simply could not open his mouth.
Lands soon replaced the seas below but Cannibal did not stop. Days had turned to nights and nights back to days by that point. But Cannibal did not stop, not even when the dragon passed over civilization. They were surely in Essos by now.
Hunger clawed at his belly and bouts of dizziness attacked him at every opportunity it got. It was becoming hard to keep hold of that spike or horn or whatever it was he'd been clinging on to for who knows how long. His mind was mush at this point, barely able to comprehend a thought.
The world began to darken when Aenar felt as if Cannibal was descending. But it wasn't night that was falling. No, he was losing consciousness. His grip slackened and he felt himself fall, the wind against his back as the earth pulled him down.
Something stopped his fall, something hard and cold that held him with an odd gentleness. It lowered him gently onto the ground and before darkness took his vision fully, shapes hovered over him.
Aenar woke on cold stone and something soft and warm over his eyes. Gingerly he picked It up, his muscles and bones aching from even the slightest of movement. He was inside a mud house from the looks of it once his eyes had adjusted. He pushed himself to sit, almost crying out for the pain in his back and shoulders. Standing up would not be a wise thing to do.
"Is anyone here?" Aenar called out. Someone had to bring him inside, and it certainly was not Cannibal.
"Hello?" he shouted again.
He heard nothing and saw no shadows moving outside those doorless entryways. Where even was he that had mud-built houses, to begin with? He had studied a portion of the works of Old Valyrian Scribes that reside now in the library of Dragonstone in detail, enough to make a Maester jealous.
Hours went by but nobody came. The pain in his body had subsided enough that he'd risk standing now.
Still standing was a challenge, his whole body protesting every big and small move. But he did stand and he did begin to move.
It was dark outside, the moon being the only source of light. Aenar saw nothing or no one near, just open desert and mud houses.
He moved from house to house but found nobody there. The further he went the more solid the houses looked. Stone houses but broken and ruined. The whole place was a ruin.
There was movement and Aenor jumped, holding back his cry of pain.
"Hello?" he called out.
Debris shifted and something sharp scratched against the stone ruins that were probably houses. Something shifted in the shadows of these ruins, large figures with crimson eyes. Slowly they stepped out and Aenar let out a scream of terror.
Humans, but not humans. They looked as if someone had done some sorcery on them, some cruel experiment that had gone bad. Men and women with disfigurations so drastic that they looked like their ancestors mated with animals. Horned things, frothing at the mouth and twitching with every move they made.
One of them snarled and Aenar fell back in his attempt to run away. He covered his face with his arm when he saw those things charge, and immediately was assaulted by a wave of heat. He moved his arm and saw acidic green fire burning inches from him. It reminded him of wildfire.
Up in the night sky, Cannibal snarled and roared, unleashing torrents of flame down on these creatures. Aenar scampered to his feet and took shelter far from the flames, behind rock formations that were buildings once upon a time. Cannibal circled where Aenar hid, firing torrents of flames down on the ground. Stone melted, creatures screamed and hissed as they burned and the smell of burned flesh became heavy in the air. Aenar curled into a ball and covered his ears. He couldn't stand to hear it, he couldn't stand to hear those creatures die.
It went on well into the morning. Aenar had gagged and threw up whatever he had in his belly from the stench. It was mostly water, but there was some black sludge-like thing that he did not recognize.
Then Cannibal flew away and when Aenar watched the direction the dragon flew, he saw smoke and mist, and beyond it red skies that thundered and rumbled. The smoke seemed to shroud the place like a cloak.
Aenar stood and stumbled after Cannibal, walking over scorched earth and cracking burned bones in the process. Cannibal rested on the edge of a cliff and Aenar skidded to a stop beside it. The fall was long and he could hear the water below boiling.
Smoke and Mist.
Boiling Sea.
Red clouds and thunder and rumble.
"You did not bring me to Valyria!" the young Targaryen shouted.
The dragon turned its head towards Aenar and barred its teeth.
Aenar snarled right back.
"You do not get to threaten me after you brought me to fucking Valyria! Why? You've never been here, why the fuck did you want to come here and that too with me?!"
If the dragon could reply, it would probably still ignore the boy. Cannibal turned away from the boy and stared at the smoking isle that was once the epitome of Valyrian power. It roared then… and something roared back.
A shiver ran down Aenar's spine. Something was still there. Something alive. Aenar did not wish to come across something that possibly either survived or was born into the destruction of the Doom.
He turned to the dragon but the beast had gone to sleep.
Aenar also felt a wave of exhaustion hit him.
He passed out right on the spot.
When he woke again, Aenar found himself staring into a pair of brown eyes.
His trial of getting up too fast induced a headbutt into the owner of those two brown eyes. Aenar hissed, cursing in Valyrian as he rubbed his head.
Voices around him spoke in a voice he did not quite recognize, neither the voices nor the language. And when he saw who they were, he was ready to flee.
He'd only read about these people, who sacked town after town and grew their oiled braids.
Dothraki.
And they did not look too pleased.
Aenar had never been tied up and dragged by a horse before. Yet here he was, his body being dragged over harsh and hot dry earth while ropes bound him to the horse of possibly the leader.
Aenar did not speak their language, and it turned out that they did not speak his language either. But he was mentally developed enough to know that these savages were about to do something savage with him.
They met with a man who was not a Dothraki. They conversed before the rope that bound him was handed over to the man.
"So rare to find someone of impeachable characteristics so close to Oros" the man commented, gripping Aenar's face. He forced the boy to open his mouth and dragged a finger over his teeth. The man was counting his teeth! Aenar bit down on the finger.
The man slapped him across the face.
"Do you know who I am?!" Aenar sneered.
"A prostitute soon enough. Is there anything more I should know?" the man asked.
"I am a Targaryen! I am the son of Lord Aerion Targaryen of Dragonstone!" Aenar screamed.
"Are you now?" the man laughed. "Well, then he'll pay a heavy sum for you! Till then, you're my property."
Aenar fought the restraints but was slapped across the face again. He fell over and quickly swept the man off his feet with a quick sweep of his leg. The man fell back and Aenar quickly stood back up. He stood over the man, a foot pressing down on his balls.
"Tell them to cut my restraints" Aenar sneered, motioning to the Dothraki who watched with little interest, pushing his foot harder into the man's ball.
The man said something in the Dothraki language, but instead of cutting him free they grabbed him and threw him off of the man. The man stood, fuming and seething. He rushed to attack but stopped mid-way when a dark shadow fell over them.
Aenar could feel the gentle beats of its wings against his skin. The dragon landed behind him, lowering its head and snarling. The Dothraki ran to their horses and the man stumbled back.
"Cut me loose!" Aenar demanded.
The man rushed forward, cutting the ropes that bound him before falling when Aenar kicked him in the balls.
"For hitting me" the boy seethed. His eyes then fell on the retreating Dothraki. They had ridden quite a bit away.
But not far enough.
"Burn them!" Aenar roared and Cannibal roared a stream of fire right at the Dothraki. Men and horses all burned to ashes, the ground charred and cracked.
Aenar turned to the slaver, who was gripping his feet and bawling apologies.
"Name," Aenar demanded.
"Qirzzah, my Lord" the man whimpered.
"Stand!"
The man quickly shot to his feet.
"You come from Lys?"
"Volantis, my Lord. I buy slaves from the Dothraki and sell them to brothels" The man had his head lowered.
Aenar turned to the dragon, who had appeared from nowhere. It was not there when he woke and was captured by the Dothraki.
"Run and he will burn you too" Aenar warned, before focusing completely on the beast. "Where were you? You just left me!"
The dragon scoffed, as if saying 'But I saved you'.
Aenar sneered.
"Did you move into Valyria?" he asked.
The dragon made no gesture that could be an answer.
"You brought me here, to show Valyria?"
Again the dragon was unresponsive.
"You brought me here to take me into Valyria…"
The dragon huffed. That was answer enough.
"You, Qirzzah," do you have a weapon" Aenar questioned.
The man shook his head but pointed to his men who carried swords.
"Give it" Aenar held his hand out. The man looked unsure but the man glared at him and the man was happy to hand it over.
Aenar strapped the sword to his belt and turned to the dragon.
"I will go to Valyria with you, but if you fly me away things get dangerous."
The dragon lowered its head. A welcome to climb him.
A relief. At least this beast won't leave him in Valyria.
Maybe.
Aenar turned back to Qirzzah.
"You will give me the majority of your food and all your water" he demanded.
"My Lord—"
"Now!"
The man flinched, comical considering he was being ordered around by a nine-year-old. He could always have this man buy him a ride back to Dragonstone, but he was certain Cannibal would not allow it.
Food and water handed, Aenar dug into them with gusto, finishing them surprisingly fast.
"You will bring me more at the cliff near Oros where you can look over the sight of Valyria. That will be my resting ground. And bring a tent as well. If you don't I will fly to Volantis and I will not stop burning the place down until they hand you over."
Aenar didn't wait for a reply and climbed the dragon and grasped the spike of its back close when the dragon took flight.