"Dreamwalker?" Igon looked at his cousin with a puzzled expression. Daenerys, meanwhile—the most notorious underachiever in the family—was completely bewildered by the word.
Dreamwalker? You can walk in dreams? Dragon dreams? A dragon dreaming or dreams about dragons?
"Mm." Sebastian rubbed his temples. Igon was still too young—currently learning High Valyrian and Ancient Valyrian—and hadn't yet reached the more arcane studies. As for Daenerys... her cleverness was entirely wasted on academics. Asking her to deal with maester-level material was more torturous than asking her to die.
So, he'd just have to take on the burden of tutoring the kids himself.
Sebastian cleared his throat and was about to speak when Daenerys gently pinched his ear. The boy flinched as he met her seemingly sweet gaze.
"Cousin, I suggest you think very carefully about how you explain this," she said with a sugary smile.
Sebastian immediately raised both hands in surrender and obediently began explaining: "A Dreamwalker is a rare magical gift once found among the Dragonlords of Old Valyria. Like Grandfather's blood magic, it flows in the veins of certain families. Unlike blood sorcery, which is eerie and terrifying, or the more extreme magical talents of other Valyrian houses, this gift is a prophetic one—rare, but precise. It's said that House Targaryen survived the Doom and preserved their dragons thanks to the dragon dream prophecies of their Dreamwalker, Daenys. However, our own family has never produced a Dreamwalker. It seems the talent is unique to House Targaryen."
Daenerys mulled it over, then her eyes lit up. "So that means you can see the future, Igon?"
Igon shook his head. He'd just absorbed his cousin's explanation and was starting to understand his situation better. Though still a child, he was precocious—even Draezell had praised young Igon for his early maturity, comparing him favorably.
He recalled his dreams—so vivid yet blurred at the edges, scattered images that yielded no useful information.
The only clear and meaningful part was the strange speech he'd uttered, seemingly under the guidance of that towering, silver dragon.
Maybe he was just too young—no experience, no knowledge—unable to interpret what he'd seen. Compared to Grandfather's mastery of magic, he was still far too weak.
Grandfather? Wait, that silver dragon...
A terrifying thought crossed Igon's mind. What if the silver dragon was actually Grandfather's dream form?
It sounded absurd, but somehow... it made perfect sense.
Snapping back to the present, Igon opened his eyes to find his sister and cousin watching him with expressions that mixed curiosity and mischief.
"Wait, wait—what are you two planning?" Igon asked, alarm bells ringing in his head.
"Igon, do me a favor, will you?" Sebastian said with a sly grin, pulling out a little notebook. "There's nothing about Dreamwalkers in Grandfather's notes, so… Igon, could you try dreaming for us?"
Daenerys nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! You scared us half to death earlier—you owe your big sister and cousin a favor. Come on, just take a nap."
Igon was speechless.
Still, he did feel drowsy. The earlier nap had come suddenly, and now sleepiness was washing over him again.
Well, kids do need their sleep.
"Alright." Igon obediently lay back down.
"Wait," he said just as Daenerys and Sebastian were watching him expectantly. He wrapped the blanket tightly around himself, grinning wickedly. "I can't sleep unless I get your allowances. Then I can dream."
Daenerys narrowed her eyes—but what could she do? This was her dear little brother.
She had no choice but to spoil him.
"Fine, be a good boy. You can have my whole allowance this year," she said with a mischievous smile. After all, there wasn't really anything to spend money on at Dragon's Nest. Food came from the kitchens, baths had hot springs and warm water, and they didn't need to buy clothes.
Honestly, the two of them shared everything anyway. Even if she gave her allowance to Igon, his stash was always open to her.
Sebastian also nodded generously. He didn't lack for gold. His mother, Serena, had never lived off the family's stipend—one of her parties could rake in more gold dragons than an entire trade expedition.
Igon, fully satisfied, closed his eyes.
Kids really do sleep well. Moments after shutting his eyes, Igon had drifted off into dreamland.
---
Draezell suddenly furrowed his brow and set down the steaming drink he had just picked up. He could sense it—his adorable little grandson had once again entered the state of Dragon Dream.
Something wasn't right. Even back in the day, Daenys herself had never been able to enter a Dragon Dream at will—it only happened when the circumstances allowed it. That was also why Draezell had once taught Helaena how to manage her own unpredictable dreams.
Never in the history of House Targaryen had anyone been able to consciously enter the Dragon Dream.
Something was definitely off.
Rey noticed his older brother's frown and asked curiously, "What is it?"
"Why did little Igon enter the Dragon Dream of his own accord?" Draezell thought about it. Perhaps Igon's bloodline was unusually pure? Whatever the reason, the fact that Igon could control his Dragon Dream was already something precious.
Being able to enter the Dragon Dream at will meant he could also exit it at will—and maybe even choose when to dream.
That held immeasurable value for the stability of one's mind.
"Voluntarily?" Rey's interest was piqued. There were certain secrets only the brothers knew—like the fact that Draezell's blood magic could affect relatives who shared his bloodline. Igon's sudden drowsiness earlier had been caused by Draezell "borrowing" his dreaming ability through blood magic.
It defied reason, but it allowed them to make full use of the child's magical gift.
"Never mind. Let the kids handle their own matters," Draezell suddenly chuckled.
He might've said that, but the deep purple of his eyes grew even darker.
Rey let out a speechless sigh.
He knew his elder brother far too well—and he knew exactly what Draezell was doing.
"Big brother, whatever you see, be sure to share it with me," Rey said with a grin he couldn't suppress.
"I will," Draezell replied, closing his eyes.
---
Igon once again felt that strange sensation of falling. It was as if he were sinking—slowly descending into an endless ocean.
He didn't know how long it took, but eventually, he felt his feet touch what seemed like an island.
Cautiously, the boy opened his eyes. The towering, sky-piercing silver dragon was still there, watching him. Its gaze was cold, yet somehow infused with a warmth and kindness that calmed Igon to his core.
And then—visions began to flash before his eyes.