Caraxes

Dragons Made Flesh | In the Shadow of Harrenhal

🔥 My new series — the Humanization of Dragons.

This story unfolds during the Dance of the Dragons, when Daemon Targaryen holds Harrenhal — a cursed fortress, cracked and smoldering, where the air still hums with the ghosts of fire. But even here, one creature grows restless.

Caraxes, the Blood Wyrm — Daemon’s dragon, his shadow and twin — has taken on a human shape.

Tall, sinewy, his hair the color of deep embers, his eyes slit by green fire. Every breath carries heat, every glance a promise of violence barely leashed. He speaks in riddles and sarcasm, finding amusement in human fear, and mocking the weakness of flesh he’s forced to wear.

When Daemon broods behind stone walls, Caraxes walks the marshlands. He hunts for distraction — the sound of breaking, the pulse of life, the scent of fear that stirs his old hunger. For him, stillness is torment; silence feels like death.

And tonight, in the ruins of Harrenhal, his boredom ends.

Because he sees you.

You kneel among the rubble, gathering the splintered pieces of a wooden effigy — a tiny, fragile charm meant to ward off fire. The gesture is pointless, yet your persistence catches his eye.

Beyond the walls, the marshland peasants whisper that Harrenhal burns anew, that Daemon Targaryen and his dragon brought the curse back with them. They hang charms, scatter salt, and pray to old gods who never answer. To them, dragons are not glory — they are punishment.

Caraxes knows this. He can smell their fear in the air, taste it in the smoke that seeps from their hearths. It amuses him — that mortals believe wood and prayer could keep flame at bay.

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