In his dreams the river was still a flame, and demons danced upon the waters with fiery whips in their hands, while men blackened and burned beneath the lash.

Mother, have mercy, Davos prayed. Save me, gentle mother, save us all. My luck is gone, and my sons.

He was weeping freely now, salt tears streaming down his cheeks.

The fire took it all.

The fire.

Perhaps it was only wind blowing against the rock or the sound of the sea on the shore.

But for instant Davos seaworth heard her answer.

You called the fire, she whispered.

Her voice is faint as the sound of waves in a seashell, sad and soft.

You burned us.

Burned us.

Burned us.

No, this episode isn't mistitled.

That's just another Davos quote that we like as a parallel to Summer Hall.

It even refers to Davos' luck running out,

the same of which could be said for Agon

the Fortunin, also known as Agon the Unliflety, also known as Egg. At this point, he could be called

Egan the Unfortunate. This could be how the ghost of Highheart feels, for example, or Jenny of

Old Stones if she survived. It's also a reminder of the salt and smoke associated with these

well-known and oft-overlapping prophecies. The prince that was promised and Azor Ahai, both of which

carry significant links to our topic today. We won't cover those theories in their entirety, though.

Our main focus is, of course, the aftermath of Summer Hall. Why didn't it work? Who tried to capitalize on the instability?

...