The Apprentice

by

B.M.B Johnson

Eberra pounded frantically on the door. She knew it was early, but she had nowhere else to go.

Against the Harvest Moon crept thick, dangerous-looking clouds. A spear of lightning charged the ground, briefly alighting Formantary Keep and the adjoining city walls. Another bolt, no doubt sent by the extremely displeased God of Weather, Aldenon, found victim of an aged Tonstruery Tree. The wood split apart with an explosion of fire, but burned only until it was extinguished by the coming rains.

"Anybody home? Please..." The young girl wiped the tears from her face, and knocked once again.

This time, the latched popped and the door opened a crack. "Eberra?" The door opened further to expose an elderly Mrs. Erma Jame. "Child, what brings you this..."

"I've left Grumen. I just couldn't take him anymore."

At this, Mrs. Jame smiled. "I see the morning air has quickened your good sense."

Mrs. Jame brought Eberra into her hearth, and went to get her some tea, but by the time she returned, the poor young girl was asleep on the soft Mord-skin sofa.

When the Sun arose, Mrs. Jame quietly slipped out into the morning air, and followed the path to Eberra and Grumen`s cabin. She pushed open the door, and stepped lightly over the mess.

Grumen was in the kitchen -- if this messy, garbage-strewn hovel could be called such -- attempting to prepare his own breakfast. As best as Mrs. Jame could decipher, his meal was a hogdepodge including, of all things, shredded parchment, horseshoe tacks and some brownish liquid serving as a base. Grumen paused, dropped a spoon in this brew, and brought it up to his lips slowly as if waiting for someone to stop him.

"I know you're not that stupid."

Grumen jumped and turned. "Jame," he said. He seemed disappointed to see her. "Do you think I know how to take care of myself?"

"Whimpering fool. Even a dog knows not to eat parchment and tacks."

"I'm all by myself here, Erma. Do you think she cares if I live or die?"

"Maybe you'll just rot away, if we're lucky. That's the best for both of you. You and Eberra have been dependent upon each other for far too long as it is. And you, dogfool, for longer than you're worth. I blame myself fo spoiling you when you were young. But you were so darn helpless when you showed up on my doorstep, I always assumed you'd up and die if I didn't do every little thing for you. Now I see you use your pathetic nature just to get attention."

"Is that why you're here? To belittle me?"

"No, just to tell you, from now on you're on your own. Eberra won't be coming back. I'll see to that. And I'll also see that you don't drag anyone else into this filthy lair of yours."

Grumen stood with his mouth agape. He was angry, Erma could tell that by the way he was fiddling with the spoon in his hand. He was rolling it over and over in his bear-like paw, bending it more on every turn until both ends were touching. Although, Gruman was basically still a baby - Trolls took forever to mature, it seemed -- he had the power of a draught horse, and the commen sense of a drunken badger. Erma knew when to stop pushing.

"Good morning to you, Grumen," she said politely, and then slipped out the front door. Behind her, she heard first the spoon hit the door. This was followed by what sounded to be the pot and it's entire contents.

When Erma Jame returned to her own home, Eberra was still sleeping soundly.

"Poor girl," she thought. "Probably hasn't had a good night's sleep in years." How Grumen had entranced a human girl, she had no idea. As far as Trolls went, also, Grumen was not exactly the most handsome. He was massive and brownish green, with a nose as big as Ebbera's forearm.

It was mid-evening when Eberra finally arose to the sweet smells of Erma Jame's Sagrido stew. It was a specialty of hers, consisting of a collection of calming herbs. It was usually a meal Erma made when she was about to settle something in her mind.

Eberra came to the table. "Morning," she said.

"Good evening, you should say. You've slept the day plus a half, dear."

Eberra appeared shocked at first, and then resigned. "I just want you to know I'll be going back to Grumen, soon. I was wrong to have left him. He won't last..."

"No, dear. I've already attended to that. I have a friend with a sewing shop who's in need of an apprentice. She'll feed you, board you, and best of all give you something more to do than take care of that troll."

"But Grumen is so set in his ways..."

"I always wondered if you found fulfillment in that sedentary life of yours, girl," Mrs. Jame said in a soft, caring voice, "but I think what's best for you--both of you--is to split conveniences. Grow as adults on separate accounts. And to be truthful, dear, you're much too old to be so insensible."

Eberra was sullen and quiet throughout supper, but her appetite suffered none for the scolding, and neither did her sleep, which she partook once again barely an hour later.

"I don't know which of them's worse," Mrs. Jame said to herself, as she made her way to her room by the small brightness of her candle. "Pitch it to the grave, Erma," she told herself. "You've made your own choices in life. But damn if I'll not try to make things right." She knew full well that she was probably butting in where she didn't belong. Insensible as those two were, they were still adults in the eyes of the law, and had a right to make their own choices -- no matter how horrible and stupid they might be. Though Eberra didn't exactly seem to be fighting her on his matter -- though it could be that she just wasn't a fighter at all, and could be pushed to do pretty much anything.

She watched Eberra sleep for a little while, as she sat down and did some knitting. The girl was fairly plain, far from beautiful, and a large side more attractive that Grumen to be sure. She was however, delicate and diminutive, and when she slept she made a slight mewling sound, as if she were being chased through the woods in her dreams.

She stopped rocking. In the distance she heard the clanking of metal on metal, followed by deep gutteral swearing of some large beast, followed then by the scream of a woman, and then deep gutteral laughter.

Erma resumed her rocking and knitting and grimaged. "Sounds like Grumen made it through the day all right, without starving to death. She thought of calling on the Captain of Arms to deal with Grumen once and for all. The only reason he had found protection in their society was because of her.

If anyone had questioned a brutish troll in the neighborhood, the Captain would simply smile and say "That's Erma's boy. He's a right bastard, but it's all in a bit of good fun."

Erma smiled. She knew that she had probably used the Captain's attraction towards her to her advantage more than what was right. Although he would never lay a finger on her with Grumen around, as that would certainly escalate the issue to the danger point by both parties.

Yes, she thought. Maybe she would call on him at that.

****

Mrs. Cobbrah was a large, boisterous woman, but jolly and personable. She had pink skin, dimpled cheeks, and thick blonde hair which she always kept braided in pigtails. She was smiling and welcoming to both of them, and greeting them with open arms. Eberra, however, had reservations.

"I can appreciate your desperation, Erma, " Mrs. Cobbrah said, pulling Mrs. Jame aside. "But this girl of yours seems a little frail for the job."

"Too frail to sew? I never heard of such an idea."

"She may well be fit enough of body. It's the frailty of mind which concerns me." She spun her finger in a circle around her ear as she said this, but it ended up getting entangled in on of her pigtails. "For much of the precise detail work, one needs to possess a healthy concentration. At first glance, your Eberra seems as flighty as a small bird."

"She has good reason to act as such. She and her husband are traveling separate paths."

"That I can appreciatee that, but..."

"She was married to my nephew, Grumen."

Mrs. Cobbrah paused. "Oh my," she said. "I see." Her eyes suddenly went cross-eyed.

"You know how Grumen can be."

"I only met him on one occasion, but I can sympathize with her mental condition. That...," she struggled too long for the correct word, "Person," she said, finally, "... no offense to your upbringing of him -- can diminish anyone's personality after some period of time."

They both looked over to Eberra, who appeared very bored. She picked up a spool, rolled it around on the table, and then put it back where she found it.

"What do you suppose finally gave her the courage to leave."

"To his fortune, there were no marks on her, as it would have meant his certain death by my hand. Why she turned up on my porch two mornings ago, however, I can't say. Their marriage, in a horrible sense, was perfect."

"Perfect?! He's a loud, brash, bombastic, irresponsible--and I use this word in the most general of terms--thing, who has no more use in this world than a scrap of clothing on one of the King's

concubines." Mrs. Cobbrah lowered her voice, at the insistence of Mrs. Jame. "How could one, especially someone as diminutive as Eberra, be a perfect mate for such a beast?"

"Perfect, only in the sense that the young woman is as subservient and submissive as Grumen is demanding.

"When Grumen first brought Eberra before me, to getrereceive my blessing, I thought the young woman must be mad. I spoke with her in private and quickly discovered her lack of passion. She

told me there was something unfulfilled in her life--some great important cause,-- but she never knew what it was. She assumed Grumen was a sign of some sort. If don't know if it was her plan to

rehabilitate him-- it but that surely didn't work.

"At the time, I was only too happy to hand Grumen over to her, to be rid of him.--a choice I now regret."

Mrs. Cobbrah nodded, and walked over to Eberra. "So, have you much sewin' experience, then?

"None, that I know of. I would darn my husband's clothes when they took to getting a holes, if that's of any use."

Mrs. Cobbrah laughed monstrously, and Eberra shrunk a little at the sound. "None at all, but I can teach you, girl. That's what I'm best at."

"I'll leave her with your capable hands, Mrs. Cobbrah," Erma

said. She turned to leave, and Eberra shrunk a little more.

"You stand right there, Erma," Mrs. Jame thought she heard Mrs. Cobbrah

exclaim, almost hysterically,. Howefwever, but when she turned, the

woman wasn't there. Suddenly, the door slammed and locked behind

her. Mrs. Jame swiveled on her heel to find Mrs. Cobbrah

directly behind her, closing

the curtains of her shop, and dampening the light.

"What's biting at you?" she asked, wondering what could make

a woman of her stature move with such uncommon quickness.

"It's that old wizard, Craeg'dyph. Blasted old fool,

sniffing around my business, and stirring up all kinds of tricks

and nonsense. That cantankerous pop-gasser has no life of his

own to meddle with, that he's got to be fiddlin' with someone

else's."

The door handle began to rattle.

"Shush, all of you," Mrs. Cobbrah insisted, "or his pox will

be upon ye, too!"

A rap upon the window. I know you're in there, Cobbrah. Do

you think I have no sense at all?"

Mrs. Jame began to move, but Mrs. Cobbrah stopped her

swiftly. "Shush, I tell you. He'll soon grow bored, and go

away."

Another rap upon the window, and then a disappointed, shallow

voice acknowledged. ,, "Some other time, then."

"At last," Mrs. Cobbrah said, breathing normally again.

"Has he a vendetta against you, dear?"

"You would think someone placed upon me a minor curse. Alas,

like a buzzing insect about the face, I think he annoys all of us

shopkeeps with equality."

"Well, ...perhaps this isn't quite the environment for

Eberra."

The young girl's eyes brightened.

"Nonsense. He's merely a nuisance, that one, not of some

mortal threat. She'll have less to fear in my my care than a

vegetable on the King's dinner plate in my care..."

Cobbrah peered out the window, and opened the door with great

haste. "Jhoschit. Here. Hurry."

The constable appeared in the doorway, and was quickly pulled

inside the shop.

"What's all the excitement?"

"Craeg-dyph's wandering about again."

"Oh.m ,, I II see."

Cobbrah pulled the man aside. " WWhat do you mean, you see,

fool.So, R you need to round up your men and hunt him down. Q Quickly!"

"Has he done something terrible, then?"

"Not yet, but who can tell of what that devil's capable. All

I'm asking is to keep him away from my shop. I'd hate to have to

tell the committee you weren't doing your job."

Jhoschit laughed. "The committee. Bunch of mindless, busy-

bodies, more like it."

"Might I remind you, it's these mindless, busy-bodies who pay

your wages."

The committee to which Mrs. Cobbrah belongedwawas an outn out= t-spoken member,

was a medley of shopkeeps, bent upon the elimination of vagrants,

and other nuisances from the nearness of their businesses. They

paid the small constabulary one percent of their revenue, to, to keep

more carefully at their eir common in interests--an amount most of the

officers considered a pittance.

"Extended wages," Jhoschit saidccorrected, crossly. "But I'll

look into the matter, as I've no other duties."

Cobbrah gritted her teeth, and put the man out the door,

locking it behind him.

"Not very accommodating, was he?" Mrs. Jame asked plainly.

"Not really, no."

"So, I gather, then, this person is more than a mere

nuisance?"

"NO. I meant what I said before. You must understand that a

nuisance to a shop can be a devastating financial burden. He's

been wandering about the middle of town for about two years now,

and we're all suffering for it.??

"Why are you all jabbergogging in the dark," inquired a

strangely familiar, male voice.

Cobbrah shrieked, and pulled Mrs. Jame behind herself.

The old man stood at the back of the shop, a curious smile

upon his face. He looked not unlike any other gentleman, except

for a sagging black hat, which he graciously straightened into a

point.

"How did you get in here, you black-bellied demon? Have you

no mind to notice when a shop is _closed__."

"Madam, it doesn't appearss to meat all as though your shop is very opened

n

indeed..closed. It's difficult to disguise this fact when here you are

with two patrons."

He mumbled something else under his breath, and pressed his

hands together, miming a bird, and suddenly the room was ablaze

with light. It seemed to originate from nowhere, merely existing

for the sake of existence.

Eberra gasped, and placed her hand to her mouth.

"The young one is amazed."

"No," Cobbrah quietly corrected. "She's merely horrified by

your ungodly appearance. You'll impress no one here with your

mediocre tricks, Charlatan. Now exit my shop." She grabbed a

broom, and charged with it, giving the impression of a Knight on

a joust.

"But I have a serious inquiry," he stammered. "My best frock

is in need of mending."

"Cast a mending spell on it, then. OUT!" She pushed the

aged wizard through her back entranceway, and slammed the door.

"Mischievous old mendicant," she said.

Mrs. Cobbrah opened her curtains once again, and the Sun

dispelled the artificial light, and everything again seemed as it

once was.

"It's getting so one can't run a respectable business

anymore."

"That should be on your epitaph." The voice seemed to

originate from a small, glowing orb floating above one of

Cobbrah's sewing machines. "But I'm not one to make threats"

Mrs. Cobbrah picked up a bag of fabric scraps, dumped itsthe contents pf of fabric

scrpsraps to the floor, and attempted to capture the thing the way a

small child might a torch fly. The orb, however, was much too

quick.

"Is that him?" Mrs. Jame asked, eyes-wide.

The orb taunted the shopkeep by flying close to her notion

baskets, and playfully tipping them over.

"That will be quite enough of that, sinful wraith."

Mrs. Cobbrah removed her largest stretching bar from the

wall, and began to swing wildly, apparently indifferent to the

damaged she caused. "Devil. Why can't you leave us alone?!"

With one strike, she dislodged two spool-rods, sending rows of

spun -thread flying in every direction. Another wild swing let

cascade her carefully drawn patterns, which onceshe had bbeneeen n placed

neatly in a wooden box on her desk. The last hit none but air.

The orb dodged the blow gracefully, and exasperatingly enough,

followed the movement of the arc, and boldly landed at the very

end of her stick.

"As a hostess, madam," the orb scolded, "you're behaving most

ungraciously."

Exerting a loud grunt, Cobbrah slammed the rod upon the

sewing machine, dislodging the transmuted wizard, and sentencingsending

him to rolling under a table.

"He must be a very powerful magician," Mrs. Jame said. "Do

you think this is wise?"

Cobbrah wasn't listening "Where did he go," she worried.

"Now I'll never get him out."

"I think I see it," Eberra said, bending down. Excitedly,

the young girl popped back up, holding the orb between her

fingers. "Here it is!"

However, before Mrs. Cobbrah could warn her h her, "Careful, dear.

He's most untrustworthy," did Eberra screamedasdf

with anguish: "It bit me!"

The orb fell to the ground, and rolled away again. After a

moment, the room began to fill with a loud, hollow laugher,

followed by thick, yellow smoke.

"Harmless is he?" Erma charged, cross-eyed. "He bit my

niece, and now he's trying to kill us with sulfur gas."

The room was quickly was full of the acrid air. With only minor

difficulty, however, the two older women emerged from the small

sewing shop, no worse than they were a moment before.

After a fit of coughing, Erma asked, eyes-wide, "Where's

Eberra?!"

Both women ran back into the shop, to find the smoke, and the

young girl, gon emissing from the room.

"I'll get the constable," Mrs. Cobbrah said.

****

Eberra appeared in an unlit alleyway, rats scuttled about garbage

carelessly strewn, and an odor arose to her nostrils which

suggested this passage was recently a sewage tunnel. All was

silent and she was alone, but still Eberra had the feeling this

was not the the caseof

being watched.

A flash of light, an explosion of dust, and the wizard

Craeg-dyph wa s ss suddenly y before her.

"I've been searching for you a long time, my lady," he said,

more serious than she had seen him before. "Although, I must

admit, I was hoping to find you in a male form."

She had been smiling, perhaps only defensively, but it now

faded. "Why on earth would you be searching for me? I've done

nothing to you."

"On the contrary, girl. You _are_ me."

Craeg'dyph went on to reveal an unbelievable tale. One in

which he and an adventurous band traveled into the mountains, and

were trapped in a cave-in while battling the fierce dragonObgre, Ohmold.

All lives were lost, including, in a certain sense, his own.

"But how can you be here before me now," Eberra inquired

cautiously. "Surely, you're no ghost."

"No. Well... To phrase it in a way you might comprehend

could very well be impossible. The ways of the spiritual realm

aren`t easy for one who`s not hh ready to hear. Suffice it to say,

our greater selves need to continue onward, even if it sometimes

means sacrificing an older part of ourselves. When I was trapped

in that rubble, my old life ceased to exist. It was only

recently, whenthat something jarred my spirit and allowed me to

escape, and project elsewhere. I needed to find you, and let you

know of what wondrous things you are capable. Let me teach you,

and the world shall be ours again."

Eberra thought for a moment. If this wizard wasn't crazy,

and somehow this were the truth, then she really had no choice.

A destiny was hers for the claiming, and she would be foolish to

turn the offer away.

She also had nothing to lose. Eberra knew it wasn't her

destiny to repair clothing. She searched her feelings, and could

find no quarrel with the wizard's story. His words felt true. A

shiver ran down her spine as she realized she quite possibly

could have been looking for him all of her life as well.

Ever since she was a girl, something seemed to be missing

from her life. Her childhood was happy, her parents of good

stock, but a piece of her was always cloudedmissing. She once even

believed she had found this missing part of herself in Grumen.

Nothing, however, could have been farther from the truth. She

had grown to hate Grumen over the years, for wasting so much of

her life, and herself but now she realized she couldn't blame him for her own poor choice.

This wizard, however, gave her pause. If she chose to accept

his offer, would she only be rushing foolishly into another life-

consuming trap. She searched herself again, and found the answer

she was looking for.

"I will," she said, bluntly, and smiled.

The wizard nodded, smiling back. "Okay, then. Then LlLlet's be on our

way." He raised his arms, and suddenly a glowing, ornate door

appeared on the dirty alleyway wall.

At once frightened by the prospect of inheriting a legacy,

and also filled with excited wonder, Eberra pulled on the knob,

and stepped inside.

****

Nearly a month later, Grumen emerged from his mess to see his

former wife standing at the door, holding a mop, a bucket, and

various other cleaning utensils.

"At last," he said, with angry relief. "I was beginning to

wonder if you'd just let me die here."

"Oh, I'm not here to clean anything." Eberra seemed pressed

for time. "I just came over to drop off a few things." She

handed him the mop, bucket and other implements. Then she pulled

a small statue from her cloak.

"This is Grenda. She'll become animate in the mornings.

Keep her in the sunlight to charge her magic. Be careful,

though, not to yell when she's awake, or she may kill you. It's

an experimental spell. Very temperamental. Tiptoe, speak

softly, Grumen. Treat her gently.

"Oh, and one more thing." She removed a small ring-box from

her cloak. "Save this for when you're truly ready."

He stood there, mouth agape, as lifeless as a pine board.

"Goodbye Grumen. I wish you well."

Eberra lifted her hands, and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

"W-wait," Grumen cried, and slumped against the door frame.

THE END