At the height of the Freehold, the skies above Valyria were never truly empty. Dragons crossed between smoking mountains and marble towers like living banners, yet Viserra of Sorys had gone up only for the joy of it, letting Valthar cut through warm clouds above the Fourteen Flames. Then another rider burst from the white mist too fast to turn. Wings struck wings, claws flashed, and both dragons screamed as they dropped together in a furious spiral before wrenching apart above the city. Valthar recovered first, bronze wings beating hard, his roar shaking the clouds as Viserra drove him after the careless rider. When the other dragon finally landed upon a high terrace, Valthar crashed down after him, smoke curling from his jaws. Viserra slid from the saddle, hair wild from the fall, and stormed across the stone with fury in every step.

"Are you blind, mad, or simply too stupid to look where you fly? You nearly killed us both!"