The Apprentice

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The Apprentice’s Letter

Debby Legner

Dear Stinky,

How are things at the tannery? Bet it’s hot there this time of year. Things here haven’t been so hot. For six months now it’s been the same old routine: up at dawn and chop the wood (he must sell it - nobody uses that much wood), study, run errands or do laps around the village, more studying, weapon’s practice and calisthenics, then even more studying before bed. I asked the Wiz once why all the exercises. He said “Wimps don’t make good wizards.” You wouldn’t believe all the books I’ve had to read. Awful stuff too, like philosophy and history. And can you tell me what good is memorizing poetry? Most of it doesn’t even make sense. If I don’t get every line perfect, the nit-picker gives me a big lecture on discipline and precision. “You must be in control at all times. Nothing must break your concentration.” You’d think a powerful, rich and respected wizard would be able to do whatever he wants, right? I mean, that’s why I talked my folks into apprenticing me here. I figured: spend a few years learning spells and studying the moves and then I’d bet set for the good life. Wrong! This wizard stuff is hard. The master may be powerful but he lives like a hermit - no drinking, no women, nothing. He says it’s a matter of self-discipline. I think he’s just an old stick in the mud.

I did get to learn a spell for calling fire. It took me two weeks to get the hang of it though. Two weeks of uncooked food and cold baths. The Wiz said it would give me incentive. Actually, the cold baths weren’t such a bad thing. The other apprentice is a redheaded knockout named Peggy. Unfortunately, she really knocked me out the first time I made a pass. She’s the reason I burnt my hand. Today the old man decided to teach me this spell called fire fingers. It’s really neat. I can’t wait to show this blonde I met when I snuck out to the pub last week. Anyway, here I was practicing, and not doing too badly either, when Peggy steps up and blows in my ear. Next thing I know my hand is covered in flames and the Wiz is throwing water on me. He said it was a test and I failed. He wouldn’t even heal it up for me - said the pain would help me learn to concentrate better. He even said that unless I learned to ignore distractions, someday I’d really mess up a spell and kill myself and everyone around me. Right. So tell Peggy not to wear such short tunics if you don’t want me distracted. Maybe I’ll just quit and go work with you at the tannery. Gotta go, someone’s coming.

It’s the next day. Last night it was Peggy who came in to do a healing spell on my hand. I guess she isn’t so bad after all. I fell asleep right after so didn’t get this finished. Today started with lecture #1 again: the duty of wizards toward the community. “You’re given your powers so that you can do good in the world, fight evil and safeguard the people; not so you can be rich, lazy and impress the girls.” I’d heard it at least a hundred times. He was about half-way through when a call came from the temple. Two strangers had come in and they were badly hurt. What a mess. They had run into a mad spawn and were really torn up. We had just started cleaning them up when this monster came flying out of the woods right at us. I froze but the master never hesitated. He threw up shields around everyone then hit the thing with lightening from both hands. What a battle. The monster did some nasty damage but the master won. He was awesome. After the battle, though, he didn’t seem excited to have won. He just quietly went back to healing the strangers, even before he healed himself. I asked him why he wasn’t happy to have killed the monster. He said the mad spawn had once been a person like us and he was sad that he had to kill it rather than cure it by purification. I’ve been thinking about that all day. Maybe, if I work hard enough on this magic stuff, I’ll get good enough to heal mad spawn instead of having to kill them. Maybe, someday, I’ll be a great wizard like my master.

Your Pal,

Jar Head (Jarvis - the future wizard)