The Understudy of an Alchemist

1. FriendGirl, not GirlFriend

Something that I have never 'grown to ignore' as my mother would have said, was the seemingly cursed well directly in the village square. I just couldn't. One of the often-common mistakes that occurred to me was having my shyness being misinterpreted as maturity and patience. In reality, I had zero patience, and this number would often slip into the negative category whenever we needed water.

And all because of that stupid well.

Usually on a daily, and sometimes even more than that basis, I would have to endure my suddenly weak stick arms struggling to yank up the stupidly heavy bucket, and sometimes the bucket's handle could snap off, or even worse, the rope tearing. There had been one trip too many back home, awkwardly holding the bent metal handle, and cautiously asking my stern parents to, "Not be mad, but.......". Yet the thing that bothered me the most was that no one else seemed to be as irritated by this well as I was, not even Varian, who was always confused as my twin by strangers to the point that sometimes we even pretended that we were.

In fact, he seemed to find my frustration amusing, often clearing his schedule just to ensure that he could observe and mock me, as I struggled for at least half an hour with that stupid bucket, which was completely unfair, because I was the most mature one out of us two, so it was my job to laugh and make jiving comments. Or, at least that's how I wanted it to be.

So that was why my emotions were running dangerously high as I struggled with the rope, confused how my attempts to add more water to the bucket seemed to have failed, leaving the contents pitifully small. Varian stares at me intently, trying desperately to disguise his amusement as to not offend me. Too late. "Do you need some-"

"No."

I continue to wrestle angrily with the rope, burns already forming upon my knuckles and fingers at a rapid pace. "I clearly have this under control, go away." He moves past me, leans over the side of the well and peers into it, sceptic. "You realise that you've got a third of the amount we need?" "I know. It's just that this bucket has a mind of its own. It doesn't like me."

"Vi, it's an inanimate object. I'm fairly sure it doesn't have some petty grudge against you." "Starting to sound like a bucket supporter!" I waved my finger in a heavily exaggerated disciplining manner, at which he laughed at my display.

With a final grunting tug, the wooden bucket was successfully hoisted out of the grey and brown stone well, admittedly slightly damp, but out just the same. Holding it on the sides instead of the handle, I thrust it out towards him as if it were a baby. "Take the child!!"

Grinning, Varian reaches across taking the bucket from my hands, and begins to semi cradle it, however not too much to avoid the water spilling out. We continue this ridiculous charade all the way back to Varian's basement (or as he preferred to address it, 'his laboratory'), even going as far as to dub the bucket Rodrick.

As we walk down the stairs, I prick my ears for any signs of noise, before breathing a sigh of relief, Quirin, Varian's father, wasn't here. I'm secretly relieved that I didn't have to run into him, so he must still be busy working in the nearby field. Despite knowing him for nearly over ten years, I still was slightly afraid of him. He wasn't a mean spirited person, not at all, there was just something about his cold and distant nature that seemed to make me feel like he was mad at me. Or maybe it was just my consistent paranoia of being told off. I wasn't quite sure. Yet he was reserved enough to the point that over the course of a month, the maximum number of words he'd have said to me would mostly likely have been twenty-five.

I didn't think that he liked me that much.

Approaching the giant water tanker, Varian handed me the bucket, and began the climb up the previously placed ladder. Once reaching the top of the ladder, I carefully clambered up the first two rungs, still holding the bucket; and once gaining my balance completely, passed the bucket up to his extended arms.