Impression

It turned out that Rhaenar's daily joy rides had a purpose beyond mere enjoyment.

He took those opportunities to visit every village, town, and port in the Crownlands.

After years of doing this, the people of the Crownlands grew accustomed to Prince Rhaenar's presence.

Instead of seeking shelter at the sight of Sundance, the children would eagerly run to their village center, hoping to interact with their Prince and touch the dragon.

If you were to ask around, the sentiment was more or less the same:

"That's our Prince," they would say. "He makes sure to visit us now and then."

The phrase "now and then" was an understatement.

It seemed that Rhaenar, tired of the constant watchful eyes in the Red Keep, had simply become friends with many of the people in the Crownlands. They treated him as a normal person to a reasonable degree, and Rhaenar greatly appreciated it.

All he had to do was fly for a few minutes on the back of a dragon to reach a quiet village, where the elders would invite him for supper or the children would happily invite him to play in the woods or fields.

So, as you can imagine, when the Prince flew around the Crownlands, inviting everyone to join him at the bay located some distance east of Rook's Rest, many were eager to participate.

"Pay attention!" the Prince declared in every town. "Following me is no easy path!"

And so, a date was set, and signs were placed along the roads to guide people to the designated meeting spot.

There was some debate about where the meeting point should be.

Initially, Rhaenar wanted it to be at The Whispers, the ancient castle of House Crabb that had been in ruins for nearly a thousand years. Rhaenar had a good relationship with House Crabb and thought it would be special to pay homage to the great Ser Clement Crabb.

However, he ultimately decided on a location on the Blackwater where Dragonstone could be seen.

With the permission of the Lords of House Brune, Staunton, and Brownhollow, a bay on the borders of their territories was chosen. This place would later be known as Manmaker Beach, for reasons that will become clear later on.

[LOCATION]

Positive reports quickly spread across the Crownlands as the population enthusiastically embraced a newfound sense of purpose.

Each individual felt a deep sense of personal value, as they were entrusted with a unique opportunity by the Prince.

Rhaenar's unwavering belief in their abilities and his genuine need for their support created a powerful bond.

It was clear to him that the Crownlands, his own birthplace, was the perfect source of exceptional individuals who could stand beside him and forge the future. It was a natural choice, given Rhaenar's deep connection to the region as well (or so was the narrative).

Population centers buzzed with excitement as people from villages across the region gathered and journeyed to Manmaker Beach. Everyone was eager to come together, share their stories, foster camaraderie, and forge connections.

It can be said that, in the annals of Seven Kingdoms history, the Crownlands witnessed an unprecedented era of profound connectivity.

A vibrant and inclusive culture began to emerge, fueled by a shared sense of pride in their homeland, their families, and their unwavering loyalty to their Prince. Homes, once closed off, now opened their doors to weary travelers, exemplifying acts of kindness and hospitality.

The prevailing ethos was one of mutual care and support, a collective understanding that through unity, transformative change and progress would inevitably follow.

And then the fated day arrived.

On a hill overlooking Manmaker Beach, Sari Sicai sat on the recently made wooden podium, sleepdust in his eyes. Pheonix stood straight and serious. Theodore and myself also stood there. Guarding the steps up to us were Sers Steffon and Lorent, their while cloaks flapping in the subtle breeze.

Before us stood a formidable crowd. Theodore had made estimations, suggesting that if the Crownlands were to exhaust all their resources and conscript every able-bodied individual between the ages of 14 and beyond, they could assemble an army of roughly 10,000 to 15,000 men.

During times of conflict, such as war, this was the customary practice. In dire circumstances, every capable individual was expected to bear arms and defend their homeland.

It is therefore understandable how alarming these estimates appeared. We weren't trying to scrape the barrel. We were essentially asking for volunteers.

Rhaenar urged people to devote their lives to pursuing a profession, but only if they possessed the ability to succeed. While he expressed a preference for those with trades, he did not discriminate against individuals without formal education. In fact, he welcomed them.

The underlying message was that anyone could carve their own path alongside Rhaenar in a true meritocracy. The rhetoric emphasized the importance of personal motivation and determination to succeed.

With no guarantees except the likelihood of encountering hardships, we anticipated that only the desperate and destitute would venture to Manmaker Beach.

However, we were astonished by the overwhelming number of individuals who eagerly embraced the opportunity presented by Prince Rhaenar.

"By the gods," I gasped over the murmuring voices, "There has to be 2,000 of them."

"1,881 to be exact," said Theodore.

"You can tell just from looking up here?" I asked.

"I counted them as they arrived, fool."

"Who cares how many there are" yawned Sari, "Most won't make the morrow."

"How can you tell?" said Theodore.

"I know a quitter when I see one. It's in their faces."

Phoenix stood resolute and disciplined. In the days leading up to this moment, he displayed a remarkable concentration. It was evident that he took the responsibility bestowed upon him by Prince Rhaenar with great earnestness.

This stood in stark contrast to Sari Sicai, who was the embodiment of a reckless warrior, always seeking new challenges and flaunting his confidence.

I had observed that Sari longed for the fighting pits. During the initial weeks of his arrival, Rhaenar showered him with luxuries and extravagances. However, it appeared that despite Sari's mistreatment by his previous master, he was no stranger to a lavish lifestyle.

On numerous occasions, his former master would take him out of the cage and lease Sari to elite gatherings as a prized attraction. After all, Sari was an undefeated prodigy in the fighting pits, and his exceptional physical appearance had developed early on.

However, nothing could compare to the exhilaration of battle. Rhaenar once explained to me the concept of being a 'junkie,' someone who constantly yearns for intense sensations, often seeking them through the use of external substances.

Sari Sicai shared this same trait, except his craving was for high-intensity, life-or-death situations.

Curious about Rhaenar's perspective on this, I asked him what he thought

"We refer to them as 'adrenaline junkies.' They may be crazy at times," said Rhaenar, "but they sure know how to liven up a party!"

All of this led me to feel a sense of sympathy for Sari Sicai. His constant boredom seemed unquenchable. No one could provide him with a challenge that satisfied his thirst for martial excellence.

It was evident from the sorrowful and weary look in his eyes that, in his pursuit of greatness, he was burdened by the weight of his own success.

Recognizing the significance of this phenomenon, I made a mental note to study it further, as it would undoubtedly emerge as a recurring theme among the people I would encounter in my journey.

We stood there, forming the inner circle around Prince Rhaenar on the podium. The 1,881 men of the Crownlands stood before us, a diverse and varied group. Among them were all extremes, old men with silver locks, young children as little as eight years old.

Some individuals appeared ambiguously gendered, womanly curves sloppily hidden under cloaks, though I must clarify that such matters are not my usual area of expertise, as my Rhaenarian colleagues would be quick to so childishly point out. I digress—

The designated time was sunrise on the day of the new moon.

A few moments had passed, and Pheonix stood there, glaring at the crowd. Just as the murmurs were starting to grow louder, and anticipation was building up, a horrifying screech pierced the air.

The sound felt ominously close, as if the fearsome creature was right behind us, ready to pounce. Everyone, myself included, looked around in confusion. Only Pheonix and Sari remained steadfast.

Then, someone pointed and exclaimed, "Look!" We all turned our gaze to the sky. At first, we saw nothing, but soon a small black speck appeared against the backdrop of the sun.

It grew larger and larger, until a shadow cast over the podium, stirring up gusts of wind that lifted sand and blades of grass.

Finally, with a resounding yet gracefully executed thud, Prince Rhaenar landed, dismounting from Sundance. "Good morning!" he greeted us. "Congratulations to everyone who made it!"

But as Prince Rhaenar joined us atop the podium, wearing a smile and surveying the impressive turnout, Pheonix was unimpressed.

"Late," Pheonix stated firmly.

"Hmm?" Rhaenar replied, slightly taken aback. "Oh, my apologies. Can you blame me for making a grand entrance?"

"Fifty push-ups," Pheonix demanded.

The crowd of volunteers looked at each other, unsure if they had heard correctly. A foreign-looking man with olive skin was addressing the Prince in such a manner.

"Seriously?!" Rhaenar exclaimed. "But I was—"

Pheonix interrupted him, "One hundred."

Sari let out a sigh and rose from his seat. He was the only one that bothered bringing a chair up on the podium. "Hurry up! We're all waiting for you!"

It was difficult to discern Sari's intentions that day. I couldn't determine if he simply wanted to expedite the proceedings or if he was assisting Pheonix in setting the tone.

Regardless, the onlookers were astonished. They were in awe of the grand entrance, with Sundance's golden scales shining brilliantly. And yet, Rhaenar was being punished for his tardiness.

I have to admit, Theodore and I got some form of satisfaction as we watched Rhaenar caught in a web of his own making.

Be careful what you wish for.

-Brien Flowers