Before that day, he was a Prince of no renown. He wasn't the first son, nor even the second. He was the third, and had nothing to call his own besides Murghagon.
However, after his first hunt, he gained the recognition he had sought. But he didn't want to be acknowledged by his family, lords or the Faith. He wanted only to prove himself before his master, the man he admired and looked up to most.
And he did, indeed.
But regardless of what his master thought of him, others didn't take it so kindly. There is a saying that every time a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.
It happened before, when Maegor reigned supreme over the realm. It happened again with Princess Rhaena, the Black Bride.
Some feared that my father would share their fate and inherit the madness that plagues our family.
The Septas were even more horrified. They had despised Maegor the Cruel, and the last thing they wished for was a second one.
But my father's Maester, Nickolas, managed to turn the tide. My father was quite lucky in this, since reputation in Westeros is as much a double-edged blade as the status of lordship itself.
Nickolas declared that my father was the chosen one of the Stranger. And that if Princess Maegelle was the beloved of the Mother Above, then my father was the cherished child of the Death God.
Of course, in Westeros, people consider the Stranger ominous, unknowable and dreadful. Even more so at that time, since a few years prior, when the Shivers swept through the realm, it was said that the Stranger had walked the earth, leading all to their ends.
However, the Stranger was still one of the seven faces of the Seven-Faced God. And as such, They must be feared and glorified alongside the rest.
And so my father became the Beloved Son of the Stranger. I think he found it amusing, considering he didn't truly believe in gods.
Or perhaps he did, in his own way. I believe he once mentioned that gods truly existed. However, in his view, the only one truly deific in nature was the Lord of Light, R'hllor, or perhaps the Many-Faced God. He even suggested that the two could be considered a single being, depending on how one interpreted it. Since the Lord of Light was also the God of Shadows, and no shadow can be born without light, and if the Lord of Light was also the God of Life, then by that same logic he was also the God of Death, since death cannot exist without life.
But regardless of what my father believed, one thing was clear. The Faith of the Seven wouldn't cause him trouble, and there would be no more rumours painting him as the Second Maegor the Cruel.
Maria Targaryen.]
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In the Maegor's Holdfast, in the chambers basking in the warm light of the sun, the young Prince opened his eyes, groaning in displeasure as he felt sharp pain all over his body.
He was still sleeping in a rather unnatural position, with his legs on the pillow and his head on the mattress.
Dragging himself upright, Zalarys cracked his sore neck out of habit, mostly mimicking his master, and looked down, noticing his finger had been put back in place and bandaged.
Hmm... I lost consciousness? That sounds right. I was exhausted. He yawned, scratching his belly as it protested with hunger, and began dressing.
After that, he looked at himself in the mirror, wearing a white shirt, black leather trousers and a coat, appearing rather casual for a prince.
Nodding to himself, he decided to find something to eat, but before he could leave his chambers he noticed something on the desk beside his bed.
Frowning, he turned back, picked up the paper and began reading.
[To Zalarys.
I'm surprised. Only four or five hunters have ever accomplished what you did that day at the such young age. Two bears, a deer, several birds, a boar and two men... It was a truly glorious hunt.
However, while I am pleasantly surprised and would like to spend more time with you, I have to leave. It has been a year and I believe I have taught you everything I know. All you need now is to remain diligent and keep training. You have the basics down. What matters is mastering them.
As for me... The hunt calls to me as well. I have been yearning for the fresh blood of prey all this time, locked inside the Red Keep. It felt suffocating... A hunter should hunt, that's what we are born for.
I'm thinking of going to Sothoryos. There are many mighty beasts and dangerous warriors there. In other words, many hunts await me, and I'm sure all of them will be glorious.
If you decide to travel one day, visit Volantis. There you will find other hunters, and if you need anything, you can ask them.
Never forget, you are the protégé of Eclipse. And one day, when you reach Volantis, the Elder will bestow a name upon you of your own.
There is a saying that nothing is more satisfying than seeing your student surpass you. And I am certain that in the near future, I will experience a joy never felt before.
We will meet again, my boy. And never forget, you are my only student.
My pride and joy.]
Zalarys remained motionless, staring at the paper with a complicated expression, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. He knew that his master would leave sooner or later, but not so soon.
However, he quickly composed himself, exhaling softly and putting the paper down, his hardened expression gradually softening, replaced by a wry smile.
"Don't worry, Master. I won't tarnish your name." He smiled warmly, carefully folding the paper and hiding it in his chambers.
If he was being honest, he felt sad that his master left. He wanted to spend more time with him and learn even more. However, after his first hunt, he had come to understand the ecstasy of slaying prey.
That's why he could relate to his master's passion and longing for it.
What a feeling it was when he watched every single one of them fall for his traps. It was addicting. He finally felt complete as a person, as if he had found his calling.
But Zalarys didn't dwell on it too much. He would miss his master, without shadow of doubt. And it wasn't like they would never see each other again. He would meet him either in Volantis, or if not there, then in Sothoryos.
That's why, even if he felt melancholic and a little lonely, he still needed to continue training and moving forward in order not to fail his master. The last thing he wanted was to see his disappointed face.
But where should I start… he thought, feeling a bit lost and hollow without Hihkran's guidance. It was clear that his mentor wished for him to walk his own path, however the road seemed dark, and he didn't know where it would lead him.
He sighed, shaking his head and walking out of his chambers, biting his nail as he thought about his next course of action.
I'm not exactly a great hunter, but I'm decent. Master told me to learn not just how to hunt beasts, but also people. That's why he trained me with many weapons and in horse riding too.
In other words… I have to ask the knights to train me. I may be decent when hunting animals, but I suck when it comes to fighting people, without playing dirty at the very least.
He nodded to himself, resigned that he would train under rigid and overly polite knights. But first…
His stomach growled, spitting profanities at him.
"I know… I have to grab something to eat." He yawned again, scratching the back of his head, and decided to call his maid, but then he froze.
"Fuck… Master told me to learn how to cook too…"
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95 AC.
"And the pie for my favourite aunt." Zalarys smiled, placing a plate with apple pie in front of Gael, who giggled softly behind her palm.
"It looks delicious." She smiled at him brightly and began eating, her cheeks puffing.
Gael had always been a timid child, shy and sweet, with not a trace of malice in her heart. She was quiet where her siblings were loud, gentle where others were sharp. Compared with the rest of them, she seemed almost an angel. Zalarys liked her well enough. She truly was his favourite aunt. When he had been little, she had been the only one willing to play with him, and the two had grown familiar with one another ever since.
"I hope it will taste as great as it looks." He sighed, turning around, but he paused abruptly, groaned, and walked back, making Gael blink in surprise, interested in what was wrong with him.
But she didn't need to wait for long. Soon he came back, carrying a coat in his hands, and exhaled, sticking his tongue out with a tired look as he approached Gael and placed it on her shoulders. Then he grabbed the hood and pulled it up, revealing that it was the head of a bear.
"Zalarys, what's this?" she asked, glancing at him timidly, feeling a bit uncertain.
"That, my dearest aunt, is a gift." Zalarys smiled, taking a seat beside her and leaning back in his chair.
"Hmm? That bear you..." She spoke, however Gael stuttered along the way, remembering how scary he looked back then.
"Not really. A year has passed since then. I've killed another one just for you." Zalarys laughed, waving his hand around. "I wasn't able to give you anything for your Nameday and didn't want to give you some trinket that I bought with coins given by my parents, so I just went into the Kingswood and killed another bear."
Gael blinked in pleasant surprise, her confusion fading away and giving way to a warm smile blooming on her face, brightening the mood. "Thank you, I like it a lot."
She giggled, covering her head with the bear's head once again while Zalarys nodded, resting his cheek in his palm. "Glad that's the case."
"By the way, Zalarys..." Gael spoke as she continued eating her pie.
"Hmm? What is it?" He raised an eyebrow.
"I think... you will have a betrothal soon, or be married right away." She whispered, smiling awkwardly at him.
"Huh? No way." Zalarys scoffed, rolling his eyes with an annoyed look. Married? It's too early for that. Who would my wife even be if that's the case? Hmm... Either some noble lady or someone in the family. Gael? Hell no, I won't allow that. But who then? Viserra? Pfthhh, that's even more ridiculous.
"Well, that's what Mother said... But don't be so disheartened. Perhaps she was just considering possible candidates ahead of time." Gael spoke kindly, trying to reassure him.
But Zalarys wasn't so reassured. Because In that moment he remembered how every marriage his grandparents had arranged had ended.
Oh no… Bloody hell. I'm really fucked this time, aren't I?
Looking up, Zalarys covered his face with both hands, throwing his head back gloomily. "Tell me… Where did this even come from?"
"Uhmm… Viserra did something again. I think that's what sparked this idea." Gael touched her chin thoughtfully as she answered. "I think it's not just you. Mother and father are discussing Viserra too, obviously… and Daemon as well. And I think…"
She gulped, her lips trembling as she paused.
"You too, huh?" Zalarys laughed, though no humour could be heard in his voice.
"Fuck..."