2 Chapter 2 : Friends and Teacher

--===Rooms for novices, Citadel===---

[Citadel map: Take the 4th turn on the right]

SIGH

After walking through the confusing halls of the Citadel, I finally made it back to the dorms, where kids my age were settling in.

Most of them are like me, novices just starting their life at the Citadel.

I have a few friends from the orphanage—Gendrey, Hotpie, Smallfoot, and Smelly Brandon gathered around me. I couldn't help but notice the peculiar names common among smallfolk in Westeros, each one sounding more ridiculous than the last.

""" Kerith."""

AGH

Smallfoot rushed over and jumped into my arms for a hug, asking, "Kerith, what are you doing up in the books till so late?"

I smiled at Smallfoot, who despite being the same age, was notably smaller, a classic case of low birth weight. "Just exploring the Citadel halls," I replied.

SNORT

Brandon, the 9-year-old, snorted and whined out, "I can't believe you navigate this maze."

Raising an eyebrow, I confidently responded, "I'm just that good."

I noticed Brandon turning his face, but Smallfoot's eyes sparkled with admiration.

Remembering a tip from psychology books—emphasize your advantages—I subtly basked in the moment. 

[Human behaviour tip: Highlight yourself in any group without looking like a fool, then you're a leader.]

As I said, this is a medieval equivalent of psychology. So, I have no idea about the accuracy of some tips. It is half and half for me.

Soon, I spotted new faces—Aegon, Walder, Brenden, and another Brandon. Dressed a bit better than us, it didn't take long to figure out they were sent here from minor noble houses and landed Knights.

Of them all, Walder is the most special. Being a bastard of a great lord. However, after observing him for a few days and nights, I can see that he didn't have a good environment while growing up. 

The nightmares every day with him shouting and saying sorry are enough to suggest to me, that not all bastards are lucky like Gendrey Storm. So, I updated his profile. 

[AI Profile: Walder 

A Frey bastard who grew up in the Twins. Insecure and prone to emotions. Lack of familial intimacy and warmth.]

I make these profiles on everyone I meet, using every minute detail, I could find. Who knows which info may help me in the future?

[AI Profile: Novice Aegon

A third son of a landed knight from Dragonstone.]

The mix of backgrounds in our little group made me realize how diverse the Citadel truly was. 

--===Courtyard of citadel===--

The gravel under our running feet made the symphonic crunches, like a instrument. Gods, I missed the music.

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

Even though Hotpie didn't like the idea, I convinced our group to run around the Citadel's courtyard and garden. I told them it's good for our health and they ran with that knowledge in mind. 

The orphanage group had followed me since we were babies and did what I said without much fuss, trusting me wholeheartedly based on the fact we had seen each other all our lives.

So, they were not the problem. The problem was me.

For me, Running was a bit challenging because I didn't like physical activity in the past life. But now, I knew it was necessary. So, I pushed myself. Though, I noticed something exciting. It is how easy it was to run as a child—I had so much energy.

CRUNCH CRUNCH

While we ran, I saw that the Bastard group, including Aegon, Walder, Brenden, and the other Brandon, were keeping up effortlessly. 

Curious, I asked Brenden, "How the fuck are you in such good shape?"

His reply is even more simple," We were trained by the master-at-arms at our respective homes but we weren't considered talented, so we were thrown here."

Well, that is sad and cruel. So, normal Westeros talk.

This got me thinking about the idea of talent. It is a real thing, no matter the world. While everyone can reach the same heights, some reach it faster. So fast, that it crushes any motivation in their peers.

I shook my head to clear away such thoughts and focused on the conversation.

Aegon, sounding angry and envious, as he shared, "My trueborn brother, who is the same age, had already started sword training in Dragonstone."

It was a benefit of being a scion of the landed knight.

I couldn't help but ask, "Are you not allowed to train in sword?"

Walder was the one who answered bitterly, "We were allowed, but just not as good as the other bastards and not as lucky as trueborn. So were sent here. Less mouths to feed it seems."

I stopped on track and faced him with confidence and said, "Talent only makes a better result. With enough effort, you will surpass them easily."

I thought from the logical side of my mind that it was a good chance to emphasize loyalty. But, I felt it was fine considering that both my heart and mind agreed on helping the 8-year-old. So, a decision supported by both my emotions and logic. Nice.

SNORT

Though Walder got angry at that and retorted, "Says the most talented one here. Do you think we are blind? I say you going through an entire Bookshelf, while I struggle to read a single book."

Seeing him almost on the verge of crying, I just hugged him tightly, His dripping with tears wetting my clothes as he murmured, "He told me I wasn't worth the food fed."

While I was lucky, and my fellow orphans faced no outright discrimination, the Bastard group faced the cruel world. A world that judged them based on their birth. Even worse is that the inequalities they faced, were from their families.

PAT 

RUB 

PAT

We stood there in the corner consoling him.

I asked Walder, "So, do you like to be a knight?"

"It's impossible, I am not talented in it."

"Do you like to be a Knight?"

"We can't afford someone to teach us."

"Do you like to be a knight?"

"YES"

"Good, then study well."

The gang looked at me like I was a dumb idiot, while Walder bluntly expressed- "That's stupid."

"OW, OW, Stop pinching my cheeks," I viciously pinched his cheeks disregarding his words, "Kerith, How can studying help me lift the sword?"

I took a break from pinching his cheeks and said, "Only Acolytes can go into Oldtown. As for instruction for the sword, leave that to me. So, what do you want to forge a link in? I will help you with that."

"Gold."

Economics- an interesting choice, perhaps he was affected by the Frey's taxing the traders for the crossing of Twins.

"I will help you with that."

I soon saw others envious of Walder because I am a genius known to most of them. That it is a matter of time before a Maester knows and recruits me as a student. I will see about that in the future but now, I need to take care of the pre-pubertal kids.

"If you guys want any help, just ask me."

The cacophony of noises from them reminded me of the days in medical school when I tutored my classmates.

--===Maester office wing===--

SCRIBBLE SCRIBBLE

You know when I was thinking about the Maesters noticing me, I wasn't expecting this guy to be one.

In a way, this guy is the most famous Maester in the citadel now. Even though no one knows him outside these dusty walls. 

Maester Holster Bracken is a 38-year-old who is renowned for attaining maester status at the age of 26.

Just from the fact History Brandon only managed his single link at 22, to know how much of a genius this guy is.

He is a researcher in Healing thinking of curing Shivers due to the loss of his family.

He could be considered a Visionary and that makes him the worst person that could have approached me.

Let me point out again, he is a visionary.

He clashes with the Archmaester council every other moon about removing the oaths and freely teaching everyone including women. Saying that more educated can leap the world forward.

Unfortunately, that means -Citadel losing most of its power.

So, He was awarded with the enmity of the majority of the traditionalists who derive their influence from the Citadel and its long-standing customs.

All in all, he is a nightmare to the Archmaester council, a noble Maester who is a genius in studies, with an unacceptable view that is quite logical.

In Maester Hoster Bracken's room, I found myself seated on the chair while surrounded by towering bookshelves filled with ancient tomes, research parchments scattered on a large wooden table, and a faint scent of aged leather and ink lingering in the air. Broken quills lay strewn across the table, evidence of countless hours spent in diligent study and research.

In this organized chaos, he spoke to me about his observations regarding me, "Kerith, the first time I saw you was in the Behaviour section, surrounded by a Book pile bigger than you across the table. What do you think I thought about you then?"

I just sat silently, not knowing the answer. But, I wasn't exactly hiding myself, since it was impossible as the books can't be taken to rooms by a Novice. So, I made the best of the situation by uploading the database, near the bookshelves.

He continued by answering, "Stupid Brat."

My brows twitch at his blunt answer.

"It is not easy to understand the Man's behaviour when one's view on the world is not yet formed."

As he spoke, his eyes, sharp and perceptive, seemed to dissect the very essence of my being. 

"But you aroused my curiosity, especially when I saw this parchment."

I took the parchment and saw it was the name list written by me about all the novices residing in the dorms. It was a chore that everyone refused but I took it as it would give me an excuse to roam around the corridors to explore.

One look at it and another parchment written by other novices revealed to me where I messed up.

My writing is smooth and understandable.

Though not as neat as an adult it can be seen that the writing has no mistakes. This is a remarkable feat according to the current standards, if I think about it, this feat is a good one even among modern kids.

He nodded at my realization and continued his observations on me, "It aroused my curiosity and I soon followed your progress."

The casual admission of him spying on me made me feel vexed and as he said, "I saw you as a leader among the novices and most importantly saw you following the tips in the behaviour studies, calling the acolytes-Brothers to increase familiarity, and always showing confidence."

He stood up and walked towards the window, seeing the courtyard from the first floor as he said, "The thing that made me give this letter is a simple reason. You had drive in your footsteps which seemed to inspire your friends."

Though the inspiring part is deliberate by me, I saw him look towards me regarding my decision on his unspoken offer for an apprenticeship.

I considered the advantages and disadvantages. The disadvantage is obvious that I will be pressured by the Traditional faction, which is most of the citadel.

But realised that backing down from this opportunity meant refusing any relationship with the only guy I found close to modern thinking. 

The most important reason was that I wanted to leave the citadel without taking my oaths while carrying the chains. It is the fuck you to the citadel tradition. So, I gave a nod like a good boy and declared, "I accept your offer. "

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[AI Profile: Hoster Bracken.

A visionary Maester who strives to push the healing level of the world. He is a former noble and was the regent Bracken for 2 decades and didn't try to usurp his nephew's territory. But, the occasional baths with him, show that he had 25% body tissue covered with scars and is castrated. -No lust for power in the past. Less chance in future, since he is unable to have a family.

My parchment list made some rounds in the Maester circles. Hoster was not the first one to find out. But, he was the first one to investigate and approach me. -Quite assertive and sharp.

Spends 14 hours a day in researching the various diseases and herbs- Driven researcher.]

So, I let go of my worries and tried my best to learn. While surprised by my learning capability, he wasn't shaken. According to him, one of the old Archmaesters is a Photographic memory holder. 

Under Maester Hoster Bracken's guidance, my days became a whirlwind of learning. I delved into various subjects with his support, each aimed at mastery, with a significant focus on Healing.

Diseases, herbs, and procedures filled my days, demanding my attention and dedication like every other person.

However, despite the opportunity to grasp the intricacies of Healing, a feeling of suffocation crept in. The Citadel, with its ancient walls and established traditions, contrasted starkly with my past life experiences—a life where monthly trips and the bustling metropolis were the norm.

As I grew more familiar with Maester Bracken, I decided to broach the topic of becoming an acolyte. 

I yearned for a bit of freedom, a chance to explore beyond the Citadel's confined spaces. I couldn't ignore the pangs of jealousy from my friends who, unlike me, hadn't experienced the vibrancy of the world beyond these walls.

Besides, establishing a genius reputation is good.

Approaching Maester Bracken, I asked about the possibility of becoming an acolyte.

In response, he explained, "Becoming an acolyte involves navigating a web of politics within the Citadel. It's not merely about knowledge and skills but about influence and alliances. The maesters, especially the old guard, can be resistant to change. Convincing them to accept a young acolyte of 7 years old like you is hard."

"But, not impossible right."

He sighed and explained, "Yes, there are precedents in the past. Of talents like you who never forget something. There was one person in the past who attained maester oaths by 10 name days. If I remember right, it was during the Andal invasions. So, acolyte is simpler. Though, I advise against it. You better proceed steadily".

I can understand his logic, he is well-meaning as any genius is looked at with wariness and fear by medieval societies, much less in Westeros where living examples of magic fly over the sky.

"I am sorry teacher, but I would like to do it. I understand your meaning, but I want to leave my name in history."

So, it would be the first achievement in the history book about me.- Youngest acolyte.

He wearily laughed at that and said, "I hope you won't regret it in the future."

Even if I knew he might be right, I can't help it. I want fame, wealth and power. Especially in a world where without them, I can be easily killed. Unlike my teacher, I have a whole life ahead of me.

A potential family in the future in this world scares me. So, I racked my brain and thought up a solution, "Teacher, will it help if I dedicate something to Citadel?"

He gave a hum and replied, "As much as they are against breaking tradition, if it profits them, they will do break the tradition into pieces even more religiously than me. So, you are telling me you have something like that?"

His question has a sceptic tone. Well, he will not doubt me, after today.

I asked him while pointing at the broken quills on the table, "What do you think of auto-filled Quills?"

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