Apprenticeship

As the sunset slowly turned the sky into shades of purple, stretching shadows and casting a dim serenity inside the house, I carefully sealed the holes in the ceiling and walls. Stepping back, I observed my work with a sense of satisfaction. My hands, restless from not having engaged in such meaningful labour for a long time, rubbed together gently. The emptiness that had filled me for days was replaced, at least in part, by a sense of relief.

I bent down towards the wooden bucket in the corner of the room to clean my dirty hands, washing and drying them thoroughly. Then, I sat by the fireplace, warming myself as I watched the delicate dance of the flames. Lost in thought, I hardly noticed the passing of time, only realising it when I asked Siri, who informed me that evening had long since fallen and the clock had already struck seven. A sense of unease crept over me. Daneel and Arwa had not yet returned. The elderly couple's delay gnawed at my nerves. Had something happened to them? Or had they merely lost track of time? Just as these thoughts crowded my mind, the wooden door suddenly swung open, allowing the cool evening air to sweep in along with Arwa and Daneel.

Both looked exhausted yet content. They carried what could only be described as the spoils of their day's efforts. In Arwa's woven basket lay a goat leg, while Daneel bore two large baskets filled with stones and firewood. Without hesitation, I took the heavy baskets from Daneel's hands and placed them by the fireplace. Arwa nodded approvingly, her face radiating warmth—despite her years of experience as a healer, she still found joy in helping others.

"Alek, my dear, you've done a wonderful job!" she said, surveying the repaired walls with her eyes. "You needn't have worn yourself out so much, my child. We'll look after you, don't worry. The gods favour you; you're lucky. Today, I assisted in a villager's childbirth, and as a token of gratitude, they gifted me this fine goat leg. Daneel will prepare a dish so rich in flavour that once you taste it, you'll never forget it."

Her words were cheerful, her voice full of kindness, yet I still felt somewhat shy. I simply nodded in response. Arwa narrowed her eyes, eyeing me with playful suspicion.

"What's the matter with you? Has a bee stung your tongue?" she teased, raising an eyebrow. "It's just us here, my dear, no need to be bashful. Besides, this meal is being made especially for you. You're skin and bones! Eat well, regain your strength."

Her words made me smile; her sincerity was undeniable. "Alright, I'll do as you say. I'll try to be more talkative," I said with a grin.

By then, Daneel had already started preparing the meat in the kitchen. Arwa and I sat by the fire, settling into conversation.

"Arwa," I asked curiously, "which villager did you help deliver their child? You were gone quite a while—I was worried about you."

Arwa sighed, though her smile remained. "I helped a newlywed couple at the edge of the village bring their first child into the world. If a birth is not done properly, both mother and baby are at risk of dying. In capable hands, that risk lessens."

Then, patting her belly, she let out a hearty laugh. "Hahaha, huhuhu! I may be getting old, but I can still do my job. My late mother always said I inherited my grandmother's healing hands."

I heard her words, yet I didn't entirely believe in the idea of 'miraculous hands.' Most likely, Arwa's skill was simply the result of years of experience and knowledge. Still, I paused for a moment in thought. People my age in my old world would be in school, while here, they were getting married and having children. It was a stark contrast. The brevity of life here had profoundly shaped their way of living.

"You've certainly proven yourself to be an experienced healer," I said sincerely. "And to be honest, I wouldn't say you're that old—middle-aged at most. I wish I had as much medical knowledge and skill as you."

Arwa burst into laughter. "Hahaha, huhuhu! My dear, all you need is the desire to learn. Knowledge isn't easily shared, but I'm not like the others. I'm getting older; I need an apprentice. As you can see, what I know brings valuable rewards. If you become as skilled as I am, you too will benefit. Life will be a little easier for you. So, what do you say—would you like to be my apprentice?"

She looked at me with such enthusiasm that I couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I would like to be your apprentice and help people."

Who would turn down such an opportunity? In this world, as in my old one, healers were respected. The ability to save lives and aid others was something priceless.

"Alright, my dear," Arwa said, looking satisfied. "Starting tomorrow, I will teach you what I know. In fact, I would have started today, but I'm too tired—I need to rest."

Hearing this, I nodded in agreement and steered our conversation towards another topic. As we spent the night enjoying the elderly couple's cheerful chatter and the warm glow of the fire, I silently thanked the gods, wondering what the next day would bring.