Unbridled

            The Master was hard at work. I took a peek through the door to see what had him entranced. Surely he wouldn't notice, it would just be for a moment. I saw him standing there, powerful and serene, the blue pointed cap on his head towering like a steeple. His hands were stretched outward, commanding a kaleidoscope of pink, green, blue and yellow light, floating and swirling like flowers through the air. He made a gesture, and it all disappeared with a flourish. I closed the door.

I had been working for the Master for over a year now, and I wasn't even close to learning to do the miracles he performed on a regular basis. Instead, I did his housework. I swept the floor, I fetched water, I scrubbed the goblets and tubes he put his potions into as if I were some kitchen boy. But I kept it up. I knew that it was an apprentice's job to do his master's menial tasks for him. I would learn to use his magic someday.

I picked up my buckets again. This was my fifth load today. I had to bring water from the river just outside the warren to the cauldron in the main hall. The Master burst through the study doors just as I was leaving. He startled me, and I spilled.

"I'm sorry, sir." I said meekly. He looked me up and down suspiciously.

"Have you been watching me work again?" He asked.

"Yes, sir." I said. "Shouldn't I be doing that?"

The Master huffed, unappreciative of my logic. "There is an appropriate time for such things. Be patient, Boy. Now, I have an important errand to run. Clean up that mess, then you shall be free to do as you please."

"Yes, sir." I repeated. I watched as he climbed the stairs in the front of the hall and disappeared out the small door at the top.

The Master was truly a good man. It's simply that a long life dedicated to his work had made him gruff and irritable. He always had something or other to do, and now was probably not the best season of his life for him to look after a boy. Having so much business wore on him, and I sometimes thought myself burdensome. Lessons were vague and rudimentary, and I knew that if I could only prove myself to him, he'd take me more seriously.

As I returned with the mop, I looked toward the study. I knew what was in there: The tall pointed cap. I peeked through the door again, and there it was, sitting on its pedestal, patiently, as I had seen it a hundred times before. This time, I took the opportunity. The prettier the flower, the farther from the path, the Master always said. But he also said that opportunity is not a lengthy visitor, and should be welcomed when it invites itself. So I leaned the mop against the wall and entered the study. I approached that pedestal with confidence, ready to prove myself as a worthy apprentice.

I could feel the power of the cap as I held it in my hands. This wasn't the first time I had worn it, but it was the first time the Master wasn't there to place it on my head. This was the first time I had realized just how comfortable it was. It fit nicely between my ears, gripping my head firmly yet flexibly. Now, what to do with it?

I remembered another thing that the Master had told me: Magic was to be used only for knowledge and service. So, I'd do something serviceable. I'd invent a new way to fetch water—a way that won't involve going up and down the hall stairs over and over, and that wouldn't spill. I stepped into the hall. How to do it? I eyed the mop.

"Mop!" I commanded, pointing at it theatrically. "Stand up!"

And it did. It tottered on its brush as if held by an invisible hand.