The Apprentice

The window curtains fluttered in the cold night's breeze, the candle flames flickering as the breeze moved through the shabby old house. The cold gripped the two people inside with harsh fingers, sinking through their skin, muscles, and tendons. The cold made a home in their coursing blood, wrapping around their bones like a blanket.

A hand landed loudly on the loose papers that threatened to blow through the home, a string of curse words slipping from his lips as he stretched in the opposite direction to grab the tarot cards that were making an equally dangerous threat.

"Keep it down!" A voice called from the other room. It was a low voice, hoarse and scratchy. The voice was met with a quick, meek apology from the hand, and the house fell silent again.

The wind died down and the hand relaxed, falling to the thigh of the man it was attached to. It was a full moon, and the man's master refused to close the windows on a full moon, no matter how cold or windy the night.

It was surely bad for his master's health. Especially at his age.

The apprentice, young and full of life, minded the cold more than his master. He came from far warmer lands, but at home, magic was considered a curse from the underworlds.

Magic would never be considered a beautiful gift from the overworlds. Not at home, at least.

Here, in this cold and wet land, magic wasn't considered much of anything. It had been essentially forgotten by those who lived here. Except, of course, by the old witch in the other room who, by the sound of rushing water, had just begun to draw a bath.

Water magic? Moon magic? Water cleansed by a full moon? Water and moon magic? Did he have crystals? Herbs? Was he scrying?

The apprentice had long ago given up trying to figure out whatever his master did every night, but he quite enjoyed guessing. He resigned himself to the fact that he would never know if his master did not wish it. But he found he didn't mind.

He turned his attention to the tarot cards in front of him. The six of swords and the Tower laid out in front of him. The deck called to him, begging him to draw more cards. See the situation more clearly. Moving. Disruption. Change.

He didn't want clarity. He wanted to ignore it.

So he did. He tucked the two cards back into the deck, banishing the image of the boat, its passengers, and the collapsing tower from his mind. The cards shared no new information. He knew that change was here. He knew this was the point of no return.

But so far, today had been dreadfully monotonous. As every day prior had been.

Every morning, he would wake to the sun filtering through the windows, bathing his face in the warm golden glow. The witch would be asleep, not to stir until the sun set and the moon rose. The apprentice would clean, garden, sweat, and if it was a particularly bad day, cry.

He would draw some cards, ignore their messages. He would cast a protection circle for a spell, do it wrong, uncast it. He would linger outside the witch's door, desperate for help. Desperate to learn.

He would leave.

His master hadn't taught him a lick of magic in the last year. The apprentice was beginning to think he wasn't learning any magic at all. His master, who groaned with every step and hurt with every breath, would wave him away and draw a bath instead. He would soak in the water until he was pruny, then return to bed.

The apprentice wondered what the point of living like that was. His master may as well be dead.

It was only until his master would sink into the bath and turn off the water that the apprentice would learn. He would sneak into the witch's room, steal a book from the shelf, and quickly copy a spell from the pages. Then, he would sneak back, return the book to its place, and spend the night learning the new spell.

His protection circle this morning worked. His spell, however...

Tonight, the apprentice forced the six of swords. Forced the Tower. Change was here.

The witch's bathwater never turned off. The apprentice waited. And waited. And waited. He waited until he felt the water pool around his feet.

Then, he smiled. Stood. Opened the bathroom door. Found the witch in the bath, head lolled, chest still.

Heart stopped.

It seemed the apprentice had learned some new magic after all.