In the last of the evening twilight, Zephaniah picked his way up the rocky slope to the House. Funny! he thought, how everyone says ‘the House’ like it was capitalized. Maybe it was.
As he approached the front door, it swung wide. A ginger cat was waiting for him just inside the doorway. It stood up and stretched, and thrrpped at him to follow. Zephaniah smiled.
As they made their way down the hallway, now lit by sconces along the walls, Zephaniah noticed many closed doors, each a different color. Then they came to his purple door, with his name on it. The cat gave an imperative mmrroww for him to open the door, and then entered the room first as if it was his.
A fire crackled on the hearth, warming the room with both light and heat. An oil lamp gave a soft glow on a table. And sitting in the armchair by the fire was an old man, with a neatly trimmed gray beard and a white cassock belted with a long knotted rope. The cat leaped into his lap and began to purr.
“Pull up a stool, my son. We have much to discuss. First of all, my name is Brother Thomas. I am to be your tutor for the next few years. You will also meet Brother Ass tomorrow.”
Zephaniah laughed.
“Yes, that’s his nickname, bestowed out of fondness and deep appreciation for his particular gifts. Every student here has passed through his loving hands.” Brother Thomas paused, placing his hands in front of him and closing his eyes, as if in prayer. After a few moments, he opened his eyes and smiled. “Lastly, I want to introduce you to your soon-to-be best friend. Aloysius?” Brother Thomas spoke to the room at large.
“Hello, Brother Thomas. Hello, Zephaniah.” A strange voice, like a rushing wind, swept through the room. “Do not be alarmed, young sir. I am the spirit of this room. I am invisible, so as not to alarm you too much. We shall become acquainted over the next months, and I hope that you will soon trust me.” The cat jumped down and rubbed himself against the chair.
“Aloysius will guide you through daily life. He will keep your schedule, guide you in your many tasks, and answer questions you might have. In fact, you might have a few right now. Ask him.” Brother Thomas swept his hand in introduction.
Zephaniah sat for a moment. Then he spoke slowly, “Why am I here?”
“Ah. The usual first question,” Aloysius sighed, like an autumn wind ruffling Zephaniah’s hair. “You have been called to the first stage of apprenticeship to the Medicant Order of Priests, but the people call us the poor Wizards. It takes a certain kind of person to receive this call.” Aloysius stopped with a soft sigh.
The cat came over to Zephaniah and rubbed against his legs, still purring.
Brother Thomas said, “You must have curiosity, endurance and ingenuity for living a life on the road, the capacity for both learning and the arts of self-defense, and above all, charity for the people you encounter. That is most important. From what I have heard of you, you will do well on all counts.”
He stood up, and Zephaniah did too. It seemed necessary. Brother Thomas bowed to Zephaniah. “It is late. We will save more for the morning when you are rested. You will have a chance to meet other apprentices, and Brother Ass, who will enlighten you further. Good night, Zephaniah.”
Zephaniah answered, “Good night," His head was full of many questions, but it seemed he would have to wait to get answers. How he would be able to sleep, he did not know.
Before he could do anything, a warm woolen nightshirt appeared and floated over to the bed. “Early to bed, young master.”
Zephaniah’s eyebrows rose. at the appearance of the nightshirt. Where had it come from?
“The cupboard in the corner,” Aloysius answered.
“Thanks,” said Zephaniah. He decided to ignore the fact that Aloysius knew what he was thinking. The cat, still rubbing against his legs, gave a chirp, leaped onto the bed, and curled up at the foot. Zephaniah scrambled out of his clothes and into the clean nightshirt. “By the way, does the cat have a name?”
“He does. He is called Killian..”
Zephaniah climbed into the bed. “Thank you. Good night, Aloysius. Good night, Killian,” he said.
Aloysius said not a word, but turned off the oil lamp and tamped the fire to glowing coals. Zephaniah fell asleep to the sound of a breeze blowing gently through treetops.
It’s interesting, I don’t know how to share. Thank you.