Transcience

One morning, Rhaenar entered my chambers.

"Wake up, Brien Flowers."

I stirred from a deep slumber, unable to recall the pleasant dream that had left me groggy.

"Eh?" I rubbed my eyes and focused on Rhaenar's flawless face, illuminated by the flickering candlelight. "What time is it?"

"Time to get dressed."

"Ugh…"

Without hesitation, I obeyed my Prince's command.

Since the event known as 'Rhaenar's Flight,' he had undergone a transformation of sorts.

I noticed his change immediately upon his return to the Red Keep. His nostrils flared, and his pupils dilated with a newfound ecstasy.

Rhaenar's appetite increased at an alarming rate.

Before, Rhaenar ate with the frugality of those Green men, the sacred order entrusted with stewarding the Isle of Faces in the Riverlands.

Now, Rhaenar's gluttony rivalled even that of Cannibal, the fiercest of known, untamed Dragons.

"Where's Theodore?" I asked.

"Let him sleep," Rhaenar said, "I think only you will appreciate this."

"Oh? Now I'm curious."

"Be silent."

Rhaenar and I walked through the Red Keep, our footsteps echoing in the empty halls. The stillness of the morning was reminiscent of the calm before the storm.

As the royal court was always bustling with activity, the peacefulness of the early hours was a welcome respite.

These impromptu wake-ups at ungodly hours became common after Rhaenar's Flight.

Many of the courtiers — nobles, many of whom ladies and maidens — followed Rhaenar throughout his day.

Whenever Rhaenar walked in the gardens, sang in the Great Hall to hear his voice echo, visited the Dragonpit, and so on, a group of minor nobles followed him like loyal dogs.

They kept a respectful distance and never imposed, but were always eager to witness the exciting events surrounding Rhaenar.

Rhaenar enjoyed causing mischief when most people were asleep, so he operated most in the late hours.

This time was known as the Hour of the Wolf, but it might as well have been called the Hour of Rhaenar.

He would wake up Theodore and me in the middle of the night to avoid any stragglers who might follow us and disrupt our philosophical discussions and intellectual pursuits.

Only this time, it was just me.

Rhaenar led me to the Godswood, his long hair shined in the moonlight.

An easel was already prepared, a fresh canvas some distance away from the Weirwood.

I knew immediately what was happening. Rhaenar often invited us to keep him company while he painted.

He preferred a quiet environment without the usual daytime distractions of countless onlookers.

I sighed, "You could have let me grab some reading material."

"Shh," he hushed, "It's almost time."

Rhaenar tugged on my arm and motioned for me to crouch down with him.

We were standing before the Heart tree, which towered above us and reached towards the clear, silver sky.

Its branches stretched out like fingers, and its blood-red leaves reflected the moonlight in shades of red and gray.

Though the sun was itching to pierce the horizon and bring forth the day, it had not yet risen.

Suddenly, two butterflies appeared seemingly out of nowhere, their flight paths interlinking and crisscrossing around the trunk of the Weirwood tree.

"Here they are," Rhaenar whispered excitedly. "Look!"

The butterflies danced and twirled around the tree trunk, spiralling downward until they emerged from the tree's shadow.

As they descended, I saw that one had blue wings while the other had red wings. The ice-cold wings of the blue butterfly seemed to dance with its red-flamed companion.

"They come each full moon," Rhaenar whispered. "Flapping their dance. Have you ever seen such butterflies?"

I searched my mind's library, and at first, the words gave no linkage.

"No…" I said.

But then the words, sentences, paragraphs… stories of varied authors… both fictitious and 'accounting' to their extents… linked together with metaphorical threads.

Ice and Fire. Summer and Winter. A Spring that was Promised.

No, that wasn't right…

I muttered my thoughts aloud, "A Prince that was Promised?"

Where did I hear that before?

"Shh!" Rhaenar said, flicking away with his paintbrush, "You don't want to spook them!"

As the red and blue butterflies completed their twirl around the Weirwood tree, their fluttering dance led them to meet at the bottom with a gentle touch.

They landed softly on the ground as the sun broke through the horizon, revealing the colorful sky.

As the morning sun rose, its light illuminated the red leaves of the Weirwood tree while the butterflies slowly vanished like stardust in the blue sky.

Until no more stars were left~

"What in hells was that?" I said.

Rhaenar remained analytical "Beats me. I was hoping you'd have some insight on the matter."

"As far as I'm concerned, it's a new discovery," I replied.

I had read many texts in the Citadel about supposed lizards with translucent camouflage abilities, but I never believed it extended to insects disappearing into the mist.

"You saw them too, right? As clear as you and me?" Rhaenar asked, seeking confirmation.

"Yes," I answered, slightly confused.

"I brought Theodore here last full moon, and he swore he saw no red or blue butterflies," Rhaenar said.

"What?!" I exclaimed. My mind raced. "Wait, you showed this to Theodore first??"

Rhaenar rolled his eyes and flashed a cheeky smile.

"Don't worry. It was a coincidence and a happy one at that."

I arched a brow and asked, "How so?"

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Rhaenar's painting was almost complete.

"I believe that those butterflies were something otherworldly since you and I could see them but Theodore could not," Rhaenar said.

I found his simple explanation amusing and responded, "That makes sense, but it still doesn't explain how they vanished."

Rhaenar shook his head and said, "Some things are better left unsaid. Whether the universe was orchestrated by a divine creator or random chaos, I think they would rather keep their artistic intention hidden."

Suddenly, a dragon's screech pierced the sky, and Sundance appeared with his magnificent golden wings.

After Rhaenar's Flight, Sundance rarely slept in the Dragonpit.

"Please take the painting back to my chambers," Rhaenar said as he climbed onto Sundance. "And keep an eye on the skies, Brien Flowers. Today, we break our flight speed record."

With those words, Rhaenar and Sundance took off, the powerful jump shaking the Red Keep. As they flew, Sundance roared and breathed fire, creating billows of smoke above King's Landing, wafting out like puffs of sand.

As they soared through the air, Sundance's wings brushed the dust off the rooftops, flying low and fast.

Rhaenar always made sure his flights were a spectacle for the masses. If you were walking through Fleabottom early in the morning when Rhaenar took off, you would hear the cheers of children who woke up early just to witness the show.

Then, while breathing fire, they soared upwards and looped around before descending back down. When they finished, a smoky 'R' rose into the sky.

I shook my head, "Ever the theatrical.."

On that day, Rhaenar took an especially long dragon ride. It wasn't until the sun had set over King's Landing that Rhaenar returned to hear some grim news.

Alicent Hightower was waiting for him in the lower courtyard, calling out his name as he landed, "Rhaenar!"

She hugged him tightly, her body shaking with sobs. Rhaenar's eyes widened in surprise as he placed a gentle hand on her back, confused, "What's happened?"

"Your GrandGrace, he..." Her lips quivered.

Rhaenar used his thumbs to wipe the tears from her eyes and cupped her cheeks in his hands, "It's okay. Just tell me what happened."

Alicent's voice was trembling, "We were reading Septon Barth's 'Unnatural Histories', when he..."

Without wasting a moment, Rhaenar sprinted through the Red Keep as Alicent's sentence hung unfinished.

I followed closely behind, and when we arrived at the King's Chambers, it was packed to the brim with family and courtiers.

Rhaenar stood sobbing at the bed, embraced by his loved ones, with his sister holding onto his waist.

And so it was, in the year 103 AC, that the great King Jaehaerys passed away at the age of nine-and-sixty, after ruling for 55 years.

His reign had brought about social stability, the construction of roads, a reformed justice system, and the start of the Targaryen dynasty's golden age.

It was Prince Rhaenar who had the honor of lighting the old King's pyre, commanding Sundance to spit flames that swirled green and blue.

He bid farewell to the man who had been both his GrandGrace and his king without a single tear.

The funeral of the old King and the coronation of Viserys brought together the entire realm, similar to the Great Council.

Viserys later celebrated his ascension during the tourney of 104 AC in Maidenpool.

He inherited a united realm, a treasury overflowing with gold, and a family of dragon riders, soon to be more than any in Targaryen history.

Prince Daemon returned from the Vale and joined his brother's Small Council.

However, this marked the beginning of his disputes with Ser Otto Hightower, who remained Hand of the King after Jaehaerys' death.

After becoming a dragon rider, Rhaenar was no longer able to be controlled by King Viserys.

Princess Rhaenyra took on family responsibilities, such as serving as King Viserys' cup bearer, while her twin brother Rhaenar did not.

Due to her close relationship with the King and her captivating beauty, she was given the nickname 'The Realm's Delight.'

It's not surprising, then, that rumours circulated about Rhaenar's wild behavior, in contrast to his sister's conformed political involvement. Queen Aemma jokingly dubbed Rhaenar 'The Realm's Devil' shortly after.

In the future, different scholars may have varying opinions on whether Queen Aemma had the power of Dragon dreams, based on the evidence presented.

However, as a primary source who was present during the events and closely involved with Rhaenar, his family, and his mother, I had never heard of Aemma possessing such a rare ability.

Besides, history is written by the victor.

One man's devil is another's delight.

-Brien Flowers, 104 AC.