Let me tell you about Rhaenar Targaryen.
It was a fine morning in Oldtown, though I didn't know the time.
Archmaester Morrowind had bid me to transcribe a copy of his first work, 'The Treatise of Amphibious Warfare: A Rhoynar Tale'. It was a fascinating and timeless read even with the lengthy word count and dry prose.
I had been up all night transcribing in a quiet corner of the Library. My candlelight would be a distant star looking down from the top floor. I could never return to a scroll once I'd started, even if I only left for a brief trip to the privy. I always had to transcribe all in one sitting.
I just finished up, massaging the splintering pain behind my eyes, when my dear friend Theodore, a fellow student of the Citadel, bid me good morn.
"You look how I feel," joked Theodore. "What's the matter, Brien?"
He was a whimsical leaf in the wind with orange hair and freckles, but his talent was undeniable. They say he could have earned the gold chain before his sixth name day, and nothing I've seen has led me to believe otherwise.
I looked at him for a moment and tried my best to summon the energy, to no avail.
"I need to eat. I can feel myself wasting away."
Theodore rolled his eyes. "You should have thought of that before the Archmaester's awoke. We have been summoned."
Startled, I replied, "Now? Archmaester Hobard takes at least till midday to get dressed, what with his creaking bones."
Theodore chuckled. "Careful. That old coot's ears are sharp as owls."
We arrived at the Archmaester council chamber to the sound of philosophical chatter.
It was a dusty room with small windows. We scholars weren't an extravagant lot. However, the brown oak table made for adequate discussion, and the impressive chandelier above hadn't seen a single cobweb in decades.
"Ah," Archmaester Hobard was so old that his neck resembled a tortoise's, though I've only seen them in sketches. "Brien, Theodore… So kind of you to join us."
Archmaester Morrowind raised a bushy eyebrow. "I trust you have not exhausted yourself?"
"Of course not, Archmaester," I replied, withholding a yawn. "Your early work is always 'rivering'."
It wasn't my best jest, but Theodore had to look away when he smiled regardless. Ever so quick on the uptake he was.
I changed the subject. "What summons us here?"
Archmaester Mellos held a parchment of paper. "The King has sent word of something remarkable. Are you familiar with his recent grandson?"
Theodore and I scratched our heads.
"You know us, Archmaester," said Theodore. "We hardly even know what day it is."
Archmaester Hobard piped up. Judging by his croaky voice, he didn't have time for his morning honey-ginger concoction. "You two spend too much time with your nose in the books! You can't become great Maesters if you don't care for yourselves."
We both bowed like the respectful students we were. "Yes, Archmaester."
Archmaester Mellos continued. "I'm surprised even you two aren't familiar. What with how he's the first Targaryen to hatch a dragon on the night he was born. Rhaenar the Ready, the King's minstrels speak of him."
"Ready to what? Burn cities to the ground?" Archmaester Hobard asked. I had noticed that the older Maesters had an axe to grind with Dragons. The wiser they became, the more fearful they were that those beasts would make them obsolete.
"To contribute to the realm," Archmaester Mellos corrected him, "Or so the King believes. He's called on the Citadel to send tutors to the capital for this Rhaenar, and we shall do as our King commands. You two will accompany me."
I raised a brow, "Questions."
"Go ahead."
"How old is the child?"
"Just past his first name day," replied Archmaester Mellos, "The King has assured us of his complete confidence that the boy will benefit from our teachings, regardless of age."
"Why us?" asked Theodore.
Archmaester Mellos could see the apprehension on our faces, "You don't want to leave the Citadel?"
"It's just… completing our chains…"
"You can complete your studies in Kings Landing."
"Why us?" asked Theodore again.
"The King asked me to bring along our brightest and most inquisitive young students. Don't take it as a personal favor."
My head swelled with doubt. The Citadel had become my sanctuary over the years. To leave it behind would be like cutting off a limb, "And if we don't want to go?"
Archmaester Morrowind liked the sound of me staying, "Nobody's forcing you, Brien."
"The youth these days!" Archmaester Hobard ranted, "Offered the opportunity to stay at the Red Keep during the prime of your lives, and you want to stay here in the cobwebs!"
Archmaester Mellos remained serious, as if his mission had already started, "Of course, whether you stay or go is your decision. Don't take too long to ponder your future. We leave on the morrow."
And just like that, my life changed forever.
I tried to talk myself into staying, I really did. Every fiber of me wanted to remain at the Citadel. Yet, a spark in my heart could not be extinguished, a golden ray kept telling me to go, no matter what. I had to follow and see where it led me.
It had rained earlier that morning on the day I first met Rhaenar Targaryen. An arch of seven-fold light bridged itself over Kings Landing as the sun peered through the small cracks in the clouds.
To our surprise, King Jaehaerys himself greeted us in the courtyard.
A young boy, barely reaching the King's knees, stood beside him, surveying our faces with eyes of amethyst. Their regal hue seemed to shift with each change in light, revealing a mysterious vulnerability.
A depth far out of reach
I was captivated immediately, but I must admit he looked awfully girlish. Later, when I saw him and Rhaenyra side by side, I could hardly tell the two apart. They had the same silver hair and angelic facial features.
"Welcome, friends of the Citadel!" As he descended the steps, the King said, "You must be weary from your journey. Come, we'll talk once you're rested and shown to your rooms."
But the three of us would not dare leave when Rhaenar still looked at us. It was like being at the mercy of a benevolent beast.
Then, after what felt like forever, the boy smiled with a welcoming hand, "Rhaena!" he introduced himself.
He didn't quite have his 'R' sound pronounced, but the intelligence we inferred from hearing a single word had quelled our doubts, and suddenly I felt like getting to know this exciting boy.
I shook his small hand and introduced myself, "I'm Brien."
Then, in my best attempt at a child's voice, I said, "I heard you're a great artist!"
Rhaenar's laughter was infectious, and we all found ourselves joining in. It was a taste of the many laughs we would share in the coming years.
After we calmed down and wiped the tears from our eyes, Theodore looked around at the magnificence of the Red Keep and said,
"I think this is going to be a lot of fun, don't you?"
-Brien Flowers, 96 AC.