#apprentice keziah

“Good morning,” I say. I pull the fur up to my chin, feeling like I’m doing something indecent just by lying there. He nods, sets the chicken down outside, and crosses the room to the fireplace.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” I say, climbing out of the pile of furs and trying unsuccessfully to neaten them.

Muriel looks at me out of the corner of his eyes, brows furrowed. He’s cracked the eggs and they are sizzling in a pan over the fire.

“You remember?”

“Remember what?”

“Last night.” I feel the heat rush into my cheeks. Did something happen last night? I feel the wound on my forehead. It’s scabbed over and starting to itch. I knocked on his door. He let me stay. Then...he slept over there and I slept over here. I would remember if something happened. Muriel frowns at my silence. There’s dark circles under his eyes.

“Ah, I’m sorry. You didn’t sleep well because I took your bed.”

“No, that’s not what I…” He shakes his head. When the eggs are finished, he slides them onto a plate and sets it on the table. He moves to leave the hut, when he stops and turns back to me.

“You need someone to look at your head. I know someone who can help.” He grimaces, as if thinking of this person was unpleasant. “Eat your breakfast so we can go,” he said, going out the door.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” He freezes with his hand on the doorframe.

“I’m not hungry.”

“I really appreciate the breakfast, but…” Why was I so insistent? Why did I want him to eat with me?

“I can’t eat three eggs. I don’t want them to go to waste.” Clucking sounded from outside. “The chickens worked hard on these.”

Muriel turns around to look at me, frowning.

“Here.” I pick up the tarnished fork sitting next to the plate and cut one of the eggs sloppily in half. The yolk is runny and spills over the plate. I scooch an egg and a half to the far side of the plate and the rest towards myself.

Slowly, Muriel steps into the room towards the table. He picks up another fork and a bowl from a shelf on the wall, the whole time never taking his eyes from me. As if I will strike him if he looks away. He sits down across from me, forking up his share of the eggs and dropping them into the bowl.

Neither of us say anything as we eat. I glance around the room, trying to come up with a topic of conversation, but the room is so sparse it’s hard to come up with anything. There’s a little wooden figurine sitting in an alcove in the far wall. A bear, maybe? The paint job looks old and rubbed off in places.

“That’s nice. Did you make it?”

“No.” I think he’s going to leave it at that when he continues. “A...friend made it for me.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Do they live around here?”

His eyes darken. “No.”

“Oh.” We finish our breakfast in silence.

As soon as I step out into the sunlight, my head begins to ache. I groan and put my hand to my cut. All of the numbing agent from the night before has worn off. When I lift my head, I see Muriel looking over his shoulder at me. In his eyes I see...concern? Maybe? But the look is gone quickly.

“...name,” he mumbles

“Huh?”

“What’s your name?”

What’s my name? What is my name? Panic washes over me. How do I not know my own name? Did my injury cause me to forget? What was I doing before I woke up in the forest? My eyes dart around, and they land on a scrubby plant.

“It’s Sage!” I burst out. “Like the plant!”

Muriel takes a step back, surprised at my outburst. Then he nods and starts walking.

I look at his back as we walk, paying little attention to the forest around me. Did I really just make up a name for myself? And couldn’t I have picked something cooler? Well, too late to change it now. After several minutes alone with my swirling thoughts, I need to break the silence.

“So, who are we going to see?”

“An idiot,” grumbles Muriel. “He’s a doctor. He helped Inanna when she was hurt, once.” The black wolf whines at the sound of her name, pushing her snout into Muriel’s hand. He scratches behind her ears, and for a moment I think I see him smile. But the moment is gone so quickly I can’t be sure.

When we reach the edge of the forest, Muriel pulls his hood up. Inanna is nowhere to be seen.

“This way,” he mumbles. Fields slowly give way to houses, and then a town.

“What is this place?” I ask.

“Vesuvia,” he said. A bell chimes in my mind. I’ve heard that name before.

At the edge of town where the dirt path ends and the cobblestones begin, Muriel stops. He looks uncomfortable.

“Are you alright?” His eyes dart to me, then back to the city.

“I don’t like coming here,” he said.

“Oh.” Immediately I feel the need to alleviate his discomfort. But what can I do? I’ve never been here before...that I can remember. I glance down at his hand. My first instinct is to take it, but I smush the thought down. We only just met. That would be weird. Muriel shakes himself and keeps moving.

With each road we take, the city seems to get busier. Townhouses become businesses and market stalls, a handful of people walking in the street turn into bustling crowds. I try to keep my eyes locked on Muriel’s back. It shouldn’t be this hard, I think to myself. It’s not like he’s hard to find. But as the crowd shuffles around us, he seems to get further away. At a break in the crowd, I dart forward, grabbing onto the back of his cloak. He starts, turning around to look at me.

“Sorry,” I gasp, bending my head to hide my burning cheeks. “I was worried I would lose you in the crowd.”

After a moment he nods. “Don’t let go,” he says.

After a while, Muriel stops in front of a little shop. The sign on the door shows a mortar and pestle with a snake wrapped around it.

“Should be next door…” Muriel mumbles.

The building to the right of the little shop has a sign too, a raven with a syringe in it’s talons.

We stop in front of the door. I realize I’m still holding on to Muriel’s cloak. The door in front of us pops open, and a tall, red haired man with an eyepatch appears in the doorway.

“Oh, um, hello. I was just about to close up shop for a bit but...what can I do for the two of you? Eugh, that is quite a doozy of a head wound if I do say so myself. I assume that’s why you’re here. Come in, come!”

The space is spacious, but cluttered. Knickknacks litter the counter and shelves. Compasses, seashells, carvings and things I don’t recognize. One shelf is covered in just jars of black blobs. Books fill the rest of the space, shoved wherever they will fit. A raven lifts its head sleepily from a little nest on the very top of a shelf close to the ceiling. He caws at us and rustles his feathers.

“Thank you, Malak,” says the doctor dismissively. “Have a seat.” The man gestures to a little side room with a flourish. Inside is a little cot, a chair, and more shelves full of stuff.

I sit gingerly on the cot, and realize I still have yet to let go of Muriel’s cloak.

“Sorry,” I say, dropping it like a hot coal. Muriel shakes his head. He looks peeved, but not at me. He’s staring at the red haired man as he bustles around the room.

“So, how’d you end up getting such a shiner?” The doctor sits in front of me and rests a pair of glasses on the tip of his nose, brushing the hair off my forehead to examine it. When he touches me, I feel Muriel tense beside me.

“I don’t remember,” I say honestly.

“Whew, amnesia? Been there. How far back do you remember?” He’s holding my wrist now, glancing up at a clock on a shelf.

“I don’t remember anything before waking up in the forest.”

“Nothing?” said the doctor. His eye widens in surprise. “That is serious.” He thinks for a moment. “Well, I’m afraid there isn’t much I can do about that, but we can do something about that head wound. Though I pride myself in my stitch work, I’m afraid we’re going to need some more help for this one.” He grins at Muriel and winks - blinks? at him. “Wouldn’t want to mess up the face of your pretty lady.” The doctor begins rifling through the shelves for something.

Muriel sputters. “She’s not...can’t you just heal the wound with your...powers?”

The doctor stops and looks at Muriel.

“Er...ah, no, I’m afraid not. Not anymore.” He looks at the ground, but then smiles. “But! With a little magic-ing, in combination with this-” He holds up a jar of black blobs. “You should be good as new! Er, at least your head wound will be.”

“Julie?” A woman’s voice sounds from upstairs. “I’ve been waiting for-” A pretty woman enters the room. When she sees us, her eyes light up. “Oh, hello! I didn’t hear you come in.”

The doctor grins and presses a kiss to the back of the woman’s hand. “Always arriving just when I need you, as ever.” The woman gazes up at him fondly.