Summoning the Scribe (276 AC)
The Childhood of Rhaegar Targaryen | leading to the Prince and the Scribe
That same year, apart from tourneys and his knighthood, Rhaegar continued to pore over ancient manuscripts, chasing answers to questions that haunted him. The prophecy, the visions, the Ghost’s riddles.
One afternoon in the Red Keep’s royal library, Rhaegar made a discovery that would change the course of his journey. He had been sifting through a bundle of old scrolls recently brought from the archives at Dragonstone. These scrolls were part of the lost collection of his great-grandfather and Rhaegar hoped they might contain clues left.
Most were mundane records or Valyrian poems he already knew. But one scroll, yellowed and bound with a faded blue ribbon, caught his attention.
Its title in High Valyrian was nearly illegible, but he discerned the words for “Lys” and “account.”
Intrigued, Rhaegar carried the scroll to a sunlit table and unfurled it. Lines of spidery Valyrian text filled the page, but not in a style he recognized.
The phrasing had a rhythmic, almost lyrical quality, unlike the dry chronicles he was used to, as if the writer were recording prophecy in poetry.
It was archaic, with some words abbreviated or oddly spelled, and the imagery was rich with metaphor. Rhaegar was impressed by the writing, style, and cadence of this story.
Although archaic language made translation challenging, but Rhaegar discerned that this explorer-archivist claimed to have visited Asshai and even the fabled Five Forts of Yi Ti in search of knowledge.
In one verse, the writer spoke of standing at the edge of the Shadow Lands to learn “the song of darkness and dawn.”
Rhaegar had never encountered such vivid, poetic Valyrian, each line felt like part of a song or spell, hinting at secrets just out of reach.
What stunned Rhaegar most was a name that appeared several times in the scroll. “Arthur.” At first, he assumed it might refer to some Westerosi knight, but the context suggested otherwise.
Rhaegar soon realized that the author of these accounts was named Arthur.
Rhaegar searched tirelessly for additional scrolls penned by Arthur. He discovered two others, one on the culture of Old Valyria and another on the dragons they bred.
Enthralled, he requested additional works by Arthur from Essos and pored over them all night, until the first light of dawn.
Though he consulted countless works by other maesters and historians, including treatises on the shadowbinders of Asshai and the greenseers of the North, none matched Arthur’s clarity.
One scroll, written in archaic High Valyrian, baffled him; he kept returning to Arthur’s manuscripts, comparing linguistic words to make sense of the older text, but each attempt left him more frustrated.
At last, he summoned a lesser Maester named Callys.
“Your Highness,” the maester said, bowing low, “we have traced a living correspondent of this Arthur to Lys.”
Rhaegar felt a spark of excitement at the discovery. “Thank you, Maester”
That evening, Rhaegar hurried to his chambers and secluded himself. There he composed a letter, asking Arthur to help him decipher the ancient Valyrian texts.
Rhaegar sealed the letter with plain wax with no sigil, not wanting to draw official attention, and dispatched it through Varys’s secret network to ensure it reached Lys swiftly and discreetly.
Weeks passed with no word. Rhaegar’s princely duties nearly made him forget the letter, the tourney to attend, training squires, and the celebration of his long-awaited brother, Viserys.
Late one evening, just days after returning from Lannisport. Rhaegar was studying by lamplight when a raven arrived, bearing a letter from Lys.
He broke the seal at once, and Arthur agreed to his aid.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Rhaegar felt no sorrow for what lay ahead, only a conviction that the gods were leading him on the right path.
