2024 Story Collection

The Wizard Starweaver & His Apprentice III

"This is my workshop," he explains, gesturing to the small cottage nestled into the cliff side. "It could also be considered my home if I slept there."

He leads the way up these large, old stone steps that almost blend into the landscape from certain angles. Around them, the land is covered in lush grass and wildflower patches.

"You sleep elsewhere?" she asks, distracted by the beautiful scenery.

She spins in a circle, arms outstretched, taking in the warm summer sun. The trees above her were at least ten times taller than the pines she grew up around in the forests that separated her mother's orchard from the town. The bases of them almost the size of the small cottage. Some of them had scars of where fire had taken a bit of them. They looked strong and imposing, but also old and wise as if by sitting beneath them and listening when the wind blew, she might hear the secrets of their lives.

The sunlight shone in beams that illuminated patches of vibrant wildflowers and small patches of grass. It felt like the world of the stories her mother told her when she was a child. A place of mystery and adventure. A place older than things she could comprehend.

"I don't sleep at all," he finally replied.

Her head snaps back to the tall man. The more he said, the more confused she became. This world he lived in was so different from anything she'd known.

Did immortals need sleep? Food? Were they bound by the same mortal feelings she was? Had been. She's an immortal now, too.

"Immortals still need sleep and food," he says, reading her mind. "I just don't sleep. It is a side effect of seeing too many wars and not enough smiles."

She followed the tall wizard up to the cottage, mind overflowing with thoughts.

"Did you read my mind?" she asks.

"I didn't mean to," he says. "But for some reason, because our magic is so similar, like two sides of a coin, sometimes I just hear your thoughts. Especially if they are directed at me."

She nods, more confused than ever, but she knew overtime she would come to understand magic and just what he meant.

When they get to the door, the wizard stops and turns to her. She looks back up to him, his long hair black, his skin pale and his eyes grey in the shade of the trees. He looked like what she'd imagine the moon might look like as a person.

"I use a cleaning spell to keep the dust and dirt out," the wizard explains as he opens the door to the cottage.

She looks into the crowded space. It didn't match his simple, clean clothes, but somehow fit him perfectly.

She followed him into the cluttered space and looked around.

It was filled with papers, books, herbs, stones and more. The walls were all lined with shelves, aside from a few widows. They were stuffed with books. The wall opposite her in the corner. The shelves were filled with herbs, jars, vials, powders, stones and some plants. From the ceiling hang more died herbs. All around the space were stacks of books, huge geodes and crates of raw ores.

She walks farther in and almost trips over a bag of agate.

She reaches down and picks up a piece. It was a combination of everything from creams, tans, yellows, to bright reds and browns. They were layered like ripples in a lake. She'd read about this type before. It was called crazy lace agate, and it was even more beautiful than the drawings in the book.

She set the stone back down and looked around again. The sun was beginning to set now, so the room was becoming dark. She saw clearer in the dark but based on the wizards squinting, his eyes did not share the same sensitivity.

Candles all throughout the room lit with the flick of his wrist and the warm light showed some beautiful gemstones that were being used for paperweights for some loose papers on the large desk in the center of the room. She walked a bit closer and realized the pages were of spells, drawings, and notes. The handwriting was uniform and neat, which surprised her.

She watches as he pulls an old journal out of a shelf and flips through it, looking for something.

"Why don't you use a tidy spell?" she asks.

He doesn't look up, but does crack a small smile.

"I thrive in chaos of my own creation," he says, not looking up from the journal in his hands.

He seems to find what he'd looking for and grins, letting slip a bit of the madman everyone claimed he was.

"What is that?" she asks, not being able to hold back her curiosity.

He looks up at her in surprise.

"It's a finder spell," he says. "It helps those who have lost something, find it again. A lady from the mortal realm lost her wedding ring on a trip to a doctor when her daughter was sick last month."

"Why are you helping her?" she asked.

"I enjoy helping people sometimes," he says. "Especially with little things they have given up hope on. The look on people's faces when you help them with something they thought gone, is priceless."

His smiles, and she sees the truth in his words. It makes her smile too.

"Can I help?" she asks.

"Tomorrow," he says. "Tonight, get some rest. You'll need it."

She just nods.

He sets the journal down atop a large stack of papers and walks to a small hallway.

"Let me show you to your room."

She follows him into a room. It had a bed against the wall, a wardrobe, a small window and a large wooden desk with all sorts of cubbies, drawers and dividers.

"It's beautiful," she said breathless. It truly was. The engraving on the wood, the vibrant green of the walls, and the crocheted quilt on the bed. It was more than she could've ever imagined.

"I'm glad it's to your liking. Your bags are by the wardrobe," he says, pointing to the space. Then he turns and points across the hall. "That is the washroom, and at the end of the hall is my room. Don't go in there or you might just get your head bitten off by my abnormally large companion, Eli."

"Eli?" she asks but gets ignored.

"If you need anything, just call out to me in the sun or moonlight." He goes to leave, but then suddenly turns back. "Oh, and call me by my first name, Abel."

To be continued...

April 8, 2024