Why did Samwell leave the Citadel?
Table of Contents
I. A Personal Essay by Samwell Tarly
Upon my arrival at the Citadel, my heart did flutter with exhilaration as though I had embarked on a grand new chapter in my life. There before me lay vast repositories of knowledge, each tome, each parchment a vessel of wisdom waiting to be unsealed. I was eager to immerse myself in the Citadel's teachings, to navigate the uncharted terrains of knowledge that the world had to offer. My purpose was clear - to learn, to discover, to prepare myself better to fight the ominous threat looming over the Seven Kingdoms. Yet, as days turned to weeks and weeks to months, I found myself wrestling with a growing sense of disquiet. There was a chasm, it seemed, between the Citadel's lofty ideals and the urgencies of the world outside its high walls.
II. Part 1: Unearthing Valuable Knowledge
One fateful night, propelled by desperation and a thirst for forbidden knowledge, I ventured into the restricted section of the Citadel’s library. With each book I secreted away, I felt both a sense of guilt and the thrill of transgression. It was in these stolen books, shared in the quiet company of Gilly, that we chanced upon a revelation of great import - the abundance of dragonglass on Dragonstone. The implications were tremendous, the potential for victory over the Night King now seemingly within grasp. Yet, this discovery was born of defiance, an act that flouted the Citadel's strictures. In that moment, I felt myself caught between duty and rebellion, an uneasy harmony resonating within me.
III. Part 2: Challenging the Establishment
A meeting with Jorah Mormont, a man grappled by the insidious clutches of greyscale, compelled me to challenge the Citadel's status quo once again. Ebrose had dismissed Jorah's condition as untreatable, a death sentence in the guise of a medical opinion. Yet, I remembered young Shireen Baratheon and her miraculous recovery. Could the same not be possible for Jorah? Against Ebrose's counsel, I decided to perform the procedure developed by Archmaester Pylos, a dangerous act that could have cost me my place in the Citadel, or worse, my life.
The bond I shared with Jorah's father, the late Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, anchored my resolve. To treat Jorah was to honour the legacy of his father, a man I held in high esteem. The night of the procedure was fraught with tension, the danger palpable as I made the first incision. Jorah's resilience, his silent consent amidst excruciating pain, was a testament to his will to survive. In undertaking this perilous treatment, I found myself standing on the precipice of transgression and discovery, a lone figure defying the constraints of the Citadel.
IV. Part 3: Facing Consequences and Frustration
The morning sun brought with it a dawn of new hope. Jorah was healed, a testimony to the might of audacious determination. But the light of success cast a long shadow. Ebrose, discerning the truth of Jorah's miraculous recovery, chastised me for my defiance, admonishing me for the potential catastrophe I might have brought upon the Citadel. I stood before him, half expecting a nod of approval, a word of commendation. Instead, I was given the task of copying old scrolls - an underwhelming reward for my feat of healing, an ironic penance for my transgression.
In the conclave of Archmaesters, I was but a voice among many, my pleas drowned in the sea of their skepticism. They scoffed at Bran Stark's warnings about the undead army, dismissing it as the fantasies of a misguided young man. It pained me to hear the laughter echo within those hallowed halls, a mockery of the dire truth I knew all too well. I tried to make them see, to comprehend the reality beyond the comforts of the Citadel. Yet, the walls of their disbelief were too thick, too impenetrable. The realization was bitter – the Citadel, a sanctuary of knowledge, seemed blind to the truths of the world it sought to understand.
V. Part 4: The Final Decision
In the quietude of our shared company, Gilly discovered a nugget of history buried within the records of High Septon Maynard - a revelation about Prince Rhaegar’s annulment and subsequent secret marriage. A fact that could ripple through the fabric of Westerosi history. Yet, my mind was elsewhere, consumed by the Citadel's inaction, their indifference to the undead threat. The realization was clear as a winter's day - I could no longer remain in the Citadel. I chose action over acquiescence, reality over seclusion.
With Gilly and Little Sam, I decided to abandon the Citadel's lofty towers. As I gathered the forbidden books, a token of my defiance, my father’s words echoed within me. I was sick of reading about the achievements of better men. It was time for my own story to unfold.
VI. Conclusion
As we departed from Oldtown, the Citadel, with all its wisdom and limitations, shrunk into the distance. The path I had chosen was fraught with uncertainties, the road ahead shrouded in the mists of the unknown. Yet, my heart was light, unburdened by the constraints of tradition, freed from the shackles of complacency. I left with more than just stolen books. I carried with me a renewed sense of purpose, an invigorated resolve to make a difference in the battles to come.
The journey from the Citadel taught me a valuable lesson – knowledge in itself holds little power. It is in the application, in the courageous act of using that knowledge, that true power resides. As I tread the path into an uncertain future, I do so armed with the wisdom of the Citadel and the conviction of a man who has chosen to be more than just a passive spectator in the annals of history.
