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"Once you've chosen a subject, I will assign a maester from that field as your mentor, and you will serve as their apprentice," the maester explained.
"When you feel that you've gained sufficient knowledge, you may take the maester's examination. Passing the exam and forging the corresponding chain link will earn you the title of maester."
"The Citadel will no longer charge tuition fees, and you will receive a monthly stipend instead. The exact amount will depend on the number of chain links you've forged; the more links, the higher the stipend."
As they continued walking, the maester went on to outline various rules of the Citadel—such as prohibitions against drinking and fighting—violations of which would result in expulsion.
Before long, they arrived at the spacious administrative hall, where the registration process began.
Gavin patted the pouch containing his gold dragons, feeling a pang of reluctance. Nevertheless, he steeled himself and handed over the bulk of his savings to the maester.
Over the years, Ser Edmund had occasionally given Gavin pocket money. Through selling salt and earning wages as a guard, Gavin had managed to save 30 gold dragons—a significant amount.
In Westeros, 2 silver stags could sustain a family of three for an entire month, and a single gold dragon was worth 10 silver stags.
The administrative maester, feeling the additional gold dragons in his hand, broke into a smile and warmly said, "My name is Myche, but you can call me Maester Myche. There are plenty of vacant dormitories right now. I'll bring the registry shortly so you can choose one for yourself. Once you've decided, I'll handle the arrangements.
Additionally, apprentices must request permission before leaving the Citadel. If you ever need to go out, just come to me."
Pausing, Myche asked, "Have you decided which subject you want to study? Or would you like my recommendation? I'm quite familiar with the maesters in each field."
Gavin furrowed his brow, deliberating for a moment before replying, "Maester Myche, I'd like to study medicine under Maester Qyburn, as well as delve into magical studies." He seized the opportunity to voice his request.
"A good choice," Myche said approvingly. "Maester Qyburn is highly accomplished in medicine. As for magical studies, I would recommend Maester Marwyn. While most maesters in the Citadel dismiss the existence of magic, Maester Marwyn is undeniably the foremost expert in that field."
He paused and said, "However, since apprentices can only choose one subject in their first year, I suggest starting with Maester Qyburn. He has also dabbled in magical studies, and many here believe he is destined to forge a Valyrian steel link sooner or later. This way, you can gain more knowledge in one go." Myche's smile was both kind and persuasive.
"Thank you for the recommendation, Maester Myche. I'll take your advice and study medicine under Maester Qyburn," Gavin said without hesitation.
Myche shrugged. "Very well. I'll make the arrangements. If you need any help in the future, feel free to come to me."
Gavin quickly expressed his gratitude. After receiving his apprentice robe, he picked up his belongings and headed toward the dormitory he had chosen.
In the dormitory, after finishing tidying up his room, Gavin lay on the bed, silently contemplating his plans. The Citadel provided food and lodging, but he knew he would need to think about earning money.
Directly selling his technology would be a short-sighted choice, like killing the goose that lays the golden eggs. Starting a business was out of the question, as he lacked both the initial capital and the strength to protect it.
After some thought, Gavin settled on the idea of participating in the upcoming tournament. Every year, House Tyrell held a tournament in the Reach. Of course, the prize money was not as high as the one Robert Baratheon hosted in the storyline, but the first place prize for jousting was 5,000 gold dragons.
To enter, however, one needed to be a knight, which Gavin, being a bastard, could not qualify for. The group combat and archery competitions offered a first-place prize of 2,000 gold dragons each, and these didn't require any specific status, so Gavin could participate in both.
The tournament would be held in seven months, so he had time to prepare. If needed, he could use some energy points to master archery, which would guarantee him 4,000 gold dragons.
Gavin estimated his current abilities. His physical condition was already better than most young knights in their prime, given that he was only 14 years old, and there was still much room for growth.
As for his swordsmanship, Gavin confidently believed he was one of the best in Westeros, his skills were hard-earned and not without reason.
The next day, after receiving his payment, Maester Myche made all the necessary arrangements, and Gavin officially became Maester Qyburn's apprentice.
Five months later, in the Citadel, in a dimly lit room, Gavin was fully focused as he treated the wound of a veteran who had lost his arm. The old soldier gritted his teeth, enduring the pain as beads of sweat fell from his face like rain.
Gavin's gaze was steady and focused, his hands deftly maneuvering the surgical tools with precision. He expertly used tweezers to remove the blackened, necrotic flesh, each movement swift and decisive, showing no hesitation or error.
Maester Qyburn stood beside him, his eyes intently following every move Gavin made. A look of admiration and surprise slowly appeared on his face, and he nodded in approval, saying, "Gavin, your performance has been improving significantly. At your current level, you could craft a silver chain link in medicine."
Without pausing in his work, Gavin humbly replied, "It's all thanks to your teachings, Maester. I still have much to learn." He smiled earnestly as he spoke.
Once the surgery was complete, Gavin carefully bandaged the veteran's wound. Maester Qyburn stepped forward to inspect the work and, satisfied, said, "Well done. You did a great job. Clean up, and come with me to check on the other patients."
As they walked out of the room, the sunlight poured over them. Maester Qyburn continued to impart more knowledge and techniques to Gavin. Gavin listened intently, occasionally offering questions or insights based on his previous life's knowledge.
Maester Qyburn was increasingly impressed by Gavin's thoughtfulness and reasoning skills, his face beaming with pride.
Days passed, and Gavin, with the guidance of Maester Qyburn and the assistance of his panel, made rapid progress.
Over time, Maester Qyburn began to see Gavin not merely as an apprentice but as a peer with whom he could engage in academic research.
Gavin's ideas often opened Maester Qyburn's mind, solving many problems that had long troubled him. Eventually, Maester Qyburn entertained the idea of involving this exceptional apprentice in his private research.
However, these studies were not permitted by the Citadel, and he dared not invite Gavin hastily. Yet, as he struggled with his work, Maester Qyburn reluctantly found himself testing Gavin multiple times, driven by the need for a breakthrough.
Gavin, sensing the tests, also expressed his views on medicine many times, and he showed a clear understanding and support for Qyburn's speculative experiments that combined magic and medicine, particularly those involving human experimentation. He never expressed any resistance, even offering several suggestions for improvement.
In Qyburn's study, Gavin and the maester were deep in discussion about medical knowledge.
Qyburn frequently complained about the lack of accuracy in human anatomy diagrams, and he had repeatedly petitioned the Citadel to restart relevant research on the human body. However, every time, his requests had been denied by the Citadel.
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[Chapter End's]
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