Young Prince, offspring of Prince Baelon and Princess Alyssa, was a bizarre child, to say the least.
Even his birth was unique, as was the dragon that hatched in his cradle. It was said that dragons chose their riders, not the other way around. And it was clear that Prince Zalarys was the chosen one of Murghagon, that filthy plague.
That worried not just the King but also other, wiser members of the royal family, as well as the lords.
No one could go near Murghagon. It was a ferocious and deadly beast, and the loathsome smoke that escaped its nostrils was a poison capable of killing any man. However, Prince Zalarys, who was born and spent most of his days beside the dragon when its poison was still weak, managed to adapt to it before it grew strong.
The Maesters who observed the boy believed it was because the smoke that left the egg was small in dose and weak in potency, and that was the exact reason the Prince survived.
The Prince himself regained energy and vigour after he fully adapted to the venom, to the point he was no longer bothered by it, much like ordinary smoke from a fire.
The Prince eventually grew to be a strong and healthy boy. He wasn't as much of a troublemaker as his older brother Daemon, nor was he as gentle and soft-spoken as Viserys.
He was a bit of a unique case. He could be a mischievous and bright child one moment, then bored and lifeless the next. It felt like he was always chasing new challenges and thrills, and the moment he overcame them, he grew bored and lethargic, doing nothing but yawning and thinking about what to do next.
That wasn't a bad trait, for the prince was eager to learn and improve. However, the subjects he fancied weren't favored by the King, nor by his parents. He was fascinated by his dragon's venom and took a keen interest in the study of poisons, which made the family uneasy.
The maester responsible for teaching the young prince the arts of poison and encouraging his curiosity was punished. Yet he pleaded before the King, claiming he had also instructed the boy in the healing arts, and that understanding poison was necessary to become an adept healer. That argument spared his life and brought some solace to the old king's weary heart.
I thank the gods the boy isn't drawn to the dark arts and necromancy, like those maesters so obsessed with knowledge that they cross the line and find themselves exiled or worse, executed.
I don't think the young Prince resembles anyone in the family in terms of personality. Perhaps Princess Viserra? Both of them have a problematic attitude and are free-spirited, but while the Princess is vain and narcissistic, Prince Zalarys is more rebellious and cold-blooded.
The Seven know I wish nothing but good for both of them. But regardless of what I want, it is clear the King is displeased with their attitudes. There are also rumours that Zalarys and his aunt, Princess Viserra, dislike each other as well.
Most of those rumors originated from the fact that Princess Viserra had named his dragon. Murgho in Astapori Valyrian means death, and Hīghagon in High Valyrian means scream. The dragon's name thus translates to The Screaming Death.
Servants in the Red Keep whispered that Princess Viserra had chosen that name because she was terrified of the beast and its insidious screeching, which resembled the screams of a thousand tortured souls.
As the prince grew older, he didn't like that at all, believing his dragon to be the most beautiful of them all. Of course, that wasn't true. It was merely childish favoritism, an unwillingness to hear others speak ill of his mount.
On the other hand, Prince Aemon has passed away, as has his lady wife, Jocelyn, joining the other children of King Jaehaerys who were taken too soon. The poor souls didn't even live to see their sixteenth nameday.
Many tragedies and much sorrow have befallen our good Queen and King. They have grown greatly disheartened and lonesome because of it. Yet, at least some good news has arrived. Princess Rhaenys has been wed to Lord Corlys. This new union shall strengthen the family, bringing a measure of comfort, and at the very least, a fleeting smile, to their weary faces.
Ah, I am getting carried away... Where was I... Right. Prince Zalarys.
Seven years have passed since the birth of Zalarys and he is growing into a fine boy. But now another problem arises. He doesn't wish to be trained by a knight, telling his father Baelon that they are too rigid and inflexible.
What an amusing thing to hear from a boy. But both his parents knew the boy liked hunting far more than knightly armours and banners, sneaking into the woods every chance he got. It is dangerous, and there were times he nearly lost his life. By the Seven's grace, the Kingsguard found him and brought him back before something irreparable was done.
Feeling helpless, Prince Baelon had no choice but to hire a Hunters to train the boy. He would learn to hunt one way or another, which is why I don't entirely understand the Prince's obsession. But perhaps I expect too much from a child. He is still too young. Of course he would want one thing today and another tomorrow.
In two days, different specialists will arrive. They are the best of the best when it comes to hunting. The Prince will choose whoever he likes as his mentor.
Haha... I think good Prince Baelon has played a prank. For once training begins, the boy cannot go back.
The future looks promising after so many tragedies...
By Grand Maester Elysar.]
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It was early in the morning, birds were chirping outside and the sun looked out over the horizon, bathing the land in the warmth of its light.
At the same time, a young boy no older than seven was sleeping lazily in his bed, lying in an unnatural and bizarre pose. Instead of laying his head on the pillow at the head of the bed horizontally, he was sleeping vertically, his head hanging off the edge and saliva drooling from his mouth.
What the boy didn't know was the fact that he wasn't alone in his chambers. Standing before the bed was a middle-aged man with short hair and purple eyes, his arms crossed and expression exhausted.
"Did you bring it?" He asked the servant who was carrying a rather peculiar object.
"Yes, my Prince." She spoke politely, her tone reserved and humble.
Baelon nodded with a sigh, grabbing what she held and glancing at his son. Then, raising what was a bucket, yes, a bucket, he splashed all the water upon the child.
The servant's eyes went wide in shock as she covered her mouth, and as for the boy... he opened his eyes and yawned groggily, his eyes remaining half-lidded, still unmoving and staring at the floor.
What a way to wake a prince, huh? He thought, glancing at the window and the clouds floating peacefully. It matters not how long, nor does it matter how deep. I shall sleep, as it is the destiny given by the gods...
He smiled to himself and continued sleeping.
"Zalarys!" Baelon yelled, grabbing his leg with a furious look and dragging him out of the bed.
"Father, no! Don't you dare take my sanctuary of serenity! The gods will curse you for such a blasphemous deed!" Zalarys tried kicking him with his free leg and began crawling back into bed.
"Stop talking nonsense and get up!" Baelon's eye twitched in irritation as he pulled him back, while Zalarys clung to the sheets and mattress, his fingers digging into the fabric.
However, he suddenly paused and looked back, circling his index finger near his temple while grinning.
"Heh… and what will you do if I don't?"
"Do you want to be hung from your window again?" Baelon released him, straightened, and spoke coldly.
In less than a second, Zalarys was at his feet, patting the bed smooth before stretching, then glancing at his father with determination.
"What's our destination?"
I know… I folded under zero pressure. But I'm not a coward nor am I scared of being hanged! I got already used to it. he thought bleakly and shuddered in disgust. It's just that the birds keep shitting directly on my head…
Baelon let out an exhausted sigh, shaking his head. "Get dressed. Your mentors have arrived. You will choose whoever you like."
Zalarys blinked, crossed his arms, and nodded to himself with his eyes closed, smiling in satisfaction. "Not bad, Father, not bad. If I were a girl, I might even-"
"Shut up!" Baelon smacked him on the head, causing the boy to grimace in pain, but Baelon quickly paused, furrowing his brow in thought as he weighed the possibilities in his mind, and after a few seconds he asked, his expression darkening. "Let me guess… Daemon taught you that?"
Now that's a very uncomfortable question you're asking, father. I might be a little spiteful and an asshole but I refuse to sell my brother like some damned cunt.
Thinking like this, Zalarys was left with no choice.
"It definitely wasn't Daemon, father. He might be speaking like a retard-"
"Language!"
"He might be speaking like an imbecile-"
"Zalarys..."
"Fine, he might be speaking like someone whose head is in a rather pitiful situation, but he will never say something like that. He's too prideful for that."
"Then who taught you that?" Baelon asked with a curious smile, amused by his son's sarcasm.
"I don't know, it was just some boy with Viserra." Zalarys shrugged nonchalantly, appearing uninterested in the topic as he slid his legs into his trousers and grabbed his boots.
Baelon's smile faded at that. A thoughtful look appeared on his face and he let out a tired sigh. "Fine, forget it. Let's get going."
"Of course, I'm delighted to meet my new mentors. I bet one of my balls they'll be great."
"Boy with Viserra again?"
"On god."