The Story of The Gnome’s Apprentice

They say, "you shouldn’t seek approval”,

and sure ,  it makes sense ... in a robotically logical way.

After all, that would be ego-based right?

. . and fueled by insecurities?

But what we fail others in the most, is when we don’t see the projection of our denials, and how our denials are

always,

always,

always...

— ironic.

At least that’s the way it’s told in ~

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

☙ The Story of The Gnome’s Apprentice

☙ ONCE UPON A TIME…

Once upon a time in a forgotten nook of old Willow’s acre, there lived a fairly stern gnome with the biggest ears you have ever seen.

“ Malohoff ” was his name, and he was a skilled and well-respected artist and sculptor.

But this story isn’t about Malohoff so much as the small frail boy that scuttled around his side ~his apprentice.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

No one knew exactly when the boy had become a part of the town — it was a town of Gnomes and little human boys aren’t much appreciated by Gnomes, especially human boys without names.

“Apprentice” they called him, and Malohoff seemed to get a strange delight hearing the boy called to as apprentice. He had raised the meek and sad pathetic creature, this human-pet since the boy barely began to speak.

And he didn’t speak much.

“GET DOWN FROM THERE!” — Malohoff snorted.

~as the boy reached up in the cupboard to get a silver bowl for his master to wash his hands in (Obviously jealous of the boy's height even though the boy was barely 6 years old, they matched in stature — if not the boy an inch-or-so taller).

“ I’m sor- ..” -the boy barely muttered when stompingly was rebuttled-

“-AND DON’T APOLOGISE! You humans always apologising for everything. Pathetic! Pathetic! ”

-said Malohoff, frothing at the mouth.

The boy ran off to cry under his master’s bed.

It was the only place he could run to or even knew to go to, and where he himself slept all his life nestled between a few spare tools and old-long-forgotten rags barely large enough to blow his nose in.

Malohoff snarled a few muddled remarks but let the boy cry.

In an hour or so it would be time to cure some of the clay sculptures of golems for the town ordinance, and the boy would carry the most of it.

Besides...

“Mr. Yeowlingstew will keep him company.”

. . . Malohoff chuckled . . .

〰〰〰〰〰〰

The faint sound of sniffling led to silence,

and Malohoff’s apprentice droned the shadows of the walls face-down, and back to his master’s side.

“ What do you think of this work? ” —He said, furrowing something ghastly out of his giant gnome ears so he could hear better.

The boy rose his chin and gleamed a smile for his master

-”It’s beautiful, the best there ever was!” -said the boy.

Malohoff bellowed with laughter,

“ HAHAHA See, you do serve a purpose now, and be glad you do. You’re not completely worthless. Now go get the cart we have to bri...”

Malohoff cut short of breath and gasped -pulling from the stock of golems a small delicate, and beautiful sculpture of a clay baby bird!

“ WHATISTHIIIIISSS!?!?”

—the frail bird’s wings snapped between his clenching fist and shattered pieces rolled out from the creases of his knuckles.

“Garbage! Just GARBAGE! What have I told you about wasting supplies! No food for you for a WEEK! You should learn to APPRECIATE!”

The boy’s soul withered down to nearly nothing in that moment.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

He had worked all week making it for his master,

whom, although had never shown love — he had loved very much...

Now a Gnome isn’t always so cold-hearted as Malohoff,

and Willow’s Acre wasn’t the most gleeful of towns,

but the boy had felt a pain in his heart so deeply that day that it could be felt all throughout the village,

and that very night, for the first time in his life, Malohoff felt a ping of an emotion that could be quite possibly what the humans term 

- as “shame”.

〰〰〰〰〰〰

“ Apprentice! ”

(howled a customer)

The boy staggered in through the back door, covered in dirt.

“What is this HORRID ‘thing’ you’ve concocted sent to me?”

-as he slammed a finely painted figurine of a green winged dragon onto the counter.

“ …It’s a present sir,

I made it for your son’s birthday today. Does he like it? ”

“NO!”

His son did in fact like it — and the whole family was in fact amazed — until they read “-from sir Malohoff’s apprentice” on the small birthday card attached to it.

“ This is SWAMPGOOK! FODDERWATER!

"It’s amazing you’re even still alive, don’t you appreciate Malohoff -no- the WHOLE VILLAGE looking after you? ... I’m going to tell Malohoff to lessen your meals apprentice...

"You’re getting lazy. Be glad for my critique!" -the shop patron grinned pompously,

"You’ll get better one day -but not if you keep this kind of hobblewagon work up...

‘ Dragons! ’ My word!...

... BE MORE PRACTICAL!”

The boy flinched as the door slammed and then his eyes lowered to the broken remnants of green dragon scales and wings covering the shop counter.

He knew he had to clean it up.

He knew he had hours to clean it up before Malohoff got back.

But as the Sun and sky turned over into nightfall and moonlight peered through the windows of the shop...

...and as the boy's master made his way into the dark dreary room and brought his lantern up-high to get his bearings of the shop’s keep~

a shivering dirty boy stood lifeless behind the counter ... staring at a mess of sorts in front of him that would surely come to be...

- another night without dinner.

_______________________________________

(to be continued…)

By Shaun Thomas Villafana on February 13, 2019.