Chapter 4 : Exams
SCRIBBLE SCRIBBLE
With a determined look, Maester Bracken got the conditions penned down on a parchment. It was a relief to see it in writing, acting as a safety net for my venture. The Archmaester council, not looking too thrilled, begrudgingly signed it.
I couldn't help but feel lucky with my decision to accept Bracken's offer back then. Unlike how we take it for granted, in The Citadel, a maester can easily steal the achievements of his students.
But the Teacher didn't do that. Instead makes this possible. This was it—the Citadel backing my endeavour.
But it wasn't just about that; the parchment held a clause that protected my name. According to the contract, they couldn't tarnish my reputation or spoil the quill's name in the market.
As Bracken explained to the Archmaester council one more time, "Any attempt to discredit or harm the name of our protégé's invention would cause the shares reverting to him. And believe me, he has the option to split them between the Iron Bank and himself."
It was a smart move, making sure my interests wouldn't be spoiled. If they tried anything tricky, I had the power to take back what was rightfully mine. They distributed the copies to me, the Citadel, and the Iron Bank.
The wheels of Westeros publicity services were in motion, filled by the profits. And I was ready to ride it like a knight.
-----Acolyte test--------
A week passed since the council, and things got interesting.
SCRIBBLE SCRIBBLE
I sat down with a parchment and some cheating prompts from AI.
They wanted me to answer questions. So, I did it to the best of my ability.
First up, I had to write up an essay of my thoughts on Aegon the Conqueror. It was a breeze. I didn't even need the AI prompts.
I just laid out all of his achievements, from uniting the Seven Kingdoms to flying on dragons. It was like reciting the highlights of a hero's journey from a Marvel movie.
As I wrapped up my thoughts, I dropped an unbiased opinion—the Faith Militant uprising was bound to happen, eventually.
It's like predicting the sunrise.
With their Valyrian heritage and complicated marriages, it was a recipe for an uprising from the most powerful power in Westeros at the time.
Who was the founder of House Stark?
· {Answer: Bran the Breaker is the legendary founder of House Stark.}
Who knew I was about to write the Builder, but it was the breaker. History has documented thousands of men named Brandon from the Starks' family. Much less the rest of the non-stark Brandon.
Now I am really curious about the most famous one. Brandon-The Builder.
What is the ancient Valyrian steel sword of House Targaryen?
· {Answer: Blackfyre is the Valyrian steel sword associated with House Targaryen. Though they are the only house to have a second sword, Dark sister.}Which event is known as the Field of Fire?
· {Answer: The Field of Fire was a major battle during Aegon's Conquest, where House Targaryen used dragons to defeat the combined forces of the Reach.}Name the legendary hero who defeated the Night's King.
· {Answer: The legendary hero who defeated the Night's King was Brandon the Breaker, though controversial to it in Essos, Azor is the name.}
5. Which house is known for its words, "Fire and Blood"?
· {Answer: House Targaryen is known for the words "Fire and Blood."}Identify the ruling house of the Reach.
· {Answer: House Gardener was the ruling house of the Reach. Now House Tyrell rules the place on the authority of the King.}What was the fate of the House Gardener?
· {Answer: House Gardener faced extinction during Aegon's Conquest. Their women were all married into House Tyrell. Even the progeny from these unions were also married back into the house to strengthen the claims. An excellent decision to stop the claim from spreading but fatal in not allowing an alliance opportunity for decades, causing the weak rule.
· Sure there were marriages to the Heir and others but not of the secondary branches, as required to hold the Reach.}
Though most of the questionnaire was about the conquest—lucky me—the full 7 links would require answering questions on all periods and commenting on various decisions of the kings of Westeros.
It is like they have no choice but to study for the other links; I mean, how does one answer about the economic implications of a historic decision without studying economics?
Having aced the Westeros History Quiz with full marks, I whistled my way to the Healing test site.
Citing the Citadel's permission, I went inside the opening doors.
KREAK KREAK
I became somewhat famous in Oldtown, especially after I sent many Re-quills as gifts to Hightowers and the Faith in the last month. However, The Hightowers paid for their new orders, especially the custom ones.
The High Septon at the Faith, however, requested his custom order in five detailed parchments.
Wealth is raining on me. Hell, yeah.
Controversy has always been a companion in my recent decisions, and the decision to pursue the silver link in healing was no exception.
The idea took root during a trip to the city with my teacher, Maester Bracken.
----====Memories===---
As we weaved through the bustling streets of the city, I couldn't help but be excited about crowd life. Because the silent walls and books of Citadel are making me go fucking mad.
It is that or the ear-aching forge. So, I enjoyed this chance.
Our purpose for the visit is officially the Routine health checkups of nobles.
That and a bit of "Requill" as gifts to guide the intricate web of relationships, particularly with the heads of the guards and the esteemed sections of the Faith.
Our first stop was the residence of a Landed knight who heads the city guard, a customary visit from Silver-chained Maester, visits which become a tradition over the years.
Nobles, like anyone else, valued their health, and Maester Bracken was famous for his skill, surname and passion for healing. A recent past.
CLAP CLAP
"Come dear, this is one of the most honourable men I have met in my life. He protected his house and their territory for 2 decades and raised the current Lord Bracken to be a competent lord. He didn't even hesitate to end his regentship."
The landed knight, Floent Lilian, told his newlywed wife, Miana Lilian.
I saw the Westerosi culture in which the 45-year-old widow married a second time, to a 13-year-old girl.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Ser Hoster."
The teacher chuckled at her greeting and said, "I am no ser anymore. I am a maester now."
Floent shouted out, "Prepare the food for my friend. I heard you have been busy in the citadel."
He got a nod as a reply and an introduction to me. "This is little Kerith. My student, the owner and mind behind the Requill."
I handed over a golden quill that had the Lilian sigil inscribed while said, "I had it made for you personally."
His smile widened to comical proportion as he bellowed, "Thank you, child. You can consider me your uncle from on."
My young age is a benefit, especially when giving compliments and gifts. People believe children's words as truth as long as it feels logical.
He invited us inside his manor while he explained to the teacher, "There is a swelling on my back that is painful to touch. It is like a water bubble turned solid."
-
-
-
-
-
I felt literal awe as consultations unfolded. The teacher provided medical advice, occasionally offering herbal remedies to the patients.
Yet, it was the financial transactions that left a lasting impression on me—a golden dragon for a mere consultation, a hundred dragons for what I deemed "minor surgeries."
The contrast to modern medical practices hit me like lightning.
In our world, the medical fees were significantly lower compared to the ones demanded here. A single gold dragon could sustain a smallfolk family comfortably for a year, and yet, the nobles willingly parted with their wealth for a competent maester's expertise.
As we left the medical quarters, Maester Bracken winked at me with amusement. "I paid for your research, not the citadel,"
It was a revelation that shifted my perspective on the sheer importance of healing within Westeros.
Apparently, if you are famous or skilled enough, the King or Magisters of Essos can even invite you. Each showering with wealth on treatment.
However, it wasn't the money that interested me the most; it was the power of connections forged through the art of healing.
In a society where power and interests often paved the way, I realized the relationships formed in saving lives were rather strong. Of course, that is only if the said healer is not replaceable. Here, the teacher was one.
According to him, only the archmaester and a few others were better than him.
The Captain of the Guard and the septons might have demanded bribes for others, but when one's life hung in the balance, as Maester Bracken put it, "pure friendship is the way to live."
With this newfound understanding, I made a bold decision.
--===Present===--
After some discussions here and there, I was granted access to the test room.
The atmosphere was different when compared to the History test. It is filled with shouts of pain and the smell of blood and gore.
If I hadn't been a healer before, I doubted my ability to pass through the test room.
Test was multifaceted—I had to diagnose the patient, choose the right medicine from a myriad of plants piled in a heap, and then meticulously document my decisions in response to a staggering 777 questions.
7, a sacred and significant figure for the Faith, seemed to echo every part of this examination.
Patients awaiting treatment were not small folks. Rather, they were local guards and septons in training who couldn't afford the Maesters.
But they are willing and capable of paying a sum of 10 silver stags for this cheaper healing experience. Any healing is better than none. It was a fee just above the import cost of the herbs required for the treatment, adding a mere 7 silvers to cover the cost.
~_~
The faith was really strong in the examiner.
As I approached the patients, I noted their diverse conditions. Some had injuries sustained during their duties, like a guard with sword cuts.
While others seemed to grapple with ailments prevalent in their line of work. Lung infections in Smiths and miners.
Each case required a careful examination and an accurate diagnosis.
I prepared to assess the first patient, using my hands. Yep, only my hands. But, thankfully, the sheer amount of data collected by AI from my senses helped it slowly give accurate results.
AI.
[TING]
Assesses the patient presenting symptoms of a lingering fever. Check their temperature, breathing, and other vital signs.
The patient's condition shows elevated temperature at 101.5°F, rapid and shallow breathing, and an elevated pulse. Symptoms consistent with fever and dehydration.]
Well, it is accurate in temperature. Soon, the rest will come in time. But, it is impressive that the slightest temperature change felt on my palm can be processed into this data.
I love you, AI.
Nodding, I reached for the Moonbloom, known for its antipyretic properties. "We'll start with Moonbloom to bring down your fever," I informed the patient, carefully measuring out the dosage.
Hopefully, he understood this simple info.
Trust me when I say this: the people in Westeros are dumb, dumber, and dumber. Or they can be smart, smarter and fucking scary smart.
AI, monitor the patient's response to the treatment.
[TING
Task accepted.]
Just our vision can see enough signs to establish any rejection, ranging from type of breathing to muscle twitches. Normally, people might overlook them, but my AI will notice it.
So, moving on to the next case, a guard with a laceration from a recent skirmish sought treatment.
ARGH
I opted for silverroot to promote wound healing, carefully preparing a poultice to be applied directly to the affected area. The guard winced slightly as the herbal remedy took effect; the silver root proving its efficacy.
AI assesses the guard's wound. Check for signs of infection, inflammation, and healing progress. I instructed the AI while inspecting the wound closely.
[Wound appears clean with no signs of infection. The wound shows no signs of infection and inflammation has reduced, showing satisfactory healing progress.]
Satisfied with the assessment, I continued with the treatment, providing detailed instructions for the guard's care.
The questions that followed assessed not only the effectiveness of the treatment but also my understanding of the underlying principles of healing. So, I delved into the intricacies of each case, providing detailed responses that showcased not just my knowledge, but a comprehensive grasp of the healing arts.
The patients, despite their initial doubts, smiled after noticing the effectiveness of the treatment. The 10 silver stags they had paid seemed a small price for the relief and assurance they gained.
Still, I offhandedly noticed that the Septon stationed there is receiving donations from the sick.
To my irritation, I definitively saw a gold dragon donated. Fucking hell, God is the biggest economy no matter the world.
Leaving the test room, I chuckled to myself, thinking about how my second enormous accomplishment would probably end up in the history books- Youngest Healer Acolyte in the 8000 year history of Citadel.
I am sure my about-to-be peers, the Acolytes, are pointing at me and said to each other, "Hey, there's that guy who made the Re-quill and aced the Healing test."
----------------------------