Marek - Chapter 4

The old man came just as dusk was about to fall. He knocked on the shop door a sharp three times and Marek rushed through from the storeroom to let him in.

It had been a nervous few hours since his father had left. Marek had rushed the rest of the chores and then sat in the store room, which was ever so slightly warmer and ate a small meal of slightly stale bread and sweaty cheese he had found in one of the kitchen cupboards, plus an apple from the tree in their garden

The old man, or Morgen, as his father had called him had changed his clothes again, back to the ones he had worn earlier when he had bought the book. “Hello Marek, might I come in?” He asked.

“Hi. Yeah, sure. Alright?” Marek answered, still slightly in shock. “My father said you were coming round again. I wasn’t sure why though.” He added, feeling a rush of apprehension, as he wondered indeed what this wizard wanted with him.

The old man chuckled and walked carefully in, depositing his muddy boots on the doormat and hanging his cloak on the back of the door.

“I’m, err… I’m sorry about earlier.” Marek stammered. “My dad, I mean, I shouldn’t have lied about what you said to me, I didn’t mean to.”

The old man was strolling around the small square shop floor, apparently engulfed in the many shelves of books. “…didn’t have the chance for a good look earlier. Yes, yes…” He mumbled away to himself.

Suddenly, he turned to face Marek, who was standing, nervously watching. “Did you feel bad about that Marek?” He asked, looking serious.

“Yeah, I did actually.”

“I see.” He said, tilting his head upwards slightly and looking down the angle of his nose at Marek.

“I did yeah.” Marek repeated. “Like embarrassed and silly.” He trailed off and turned away to lock the door.

“I see. Right, well, is there somewhere we could perhaps sit down?”

“Err…” Marek said, apprehensive now, thinking about the stuffy, cramped, little living room upstairs. “There’s a couple of chairs in the store room.” He said, his cheery mood returned. “It’s a bit warmer in there as well.”

         “How about outside? It is such a lovely time of evening. I do so love this time of evening.”

“Er… yeah, sure. There’s a bit of a low stone wall to sit on.” Marek pointed through the hallway to the back door.

“Ah. Yes let’s, shall we?” The old man replied, apparently in surprised delight.

They went out through the back door and into their small stone courtyard, no more than three or four yards wide, which covered nearly half of their garden, but with a low and slightly crumbly stone wall in a circle in the middle, with a very messy herb garden at it’s centre.

         “Ah, I do so love an untidy herb garden. Does your mother ever use them in her cookery, or anything? They are so good for you, you know.”

“I think so, yeah.” Marek said, thinking back to one Christmas a few years ago when they had had some lamb and his mother had made mint sauce.

Well then Marek.” The old man said, once they were seated alongside one another. “I guess you have been wondering why your father said I would be coming to talk to you tonight, or indeed why I wanted to talk to you at all.”

“Well, yeah.” Marek replied, and then seeing the old man beginning to speak, quickly added “But first, what should I call you sir?”

The old man chuckled, “You can call me the name I gave your father to call me. My first name is Morgen. My full name, well, that’s rather a different story I’m afraid and now’s not yet the right time for it.”

“OK.” Marek replied, cheerfully. “Morgen, do you mind if I ask you some questions, about what sort of wizard you are?”

“You’re not interested in my reasons for being here tonight then?” Morgen asked, a quizzical tone in his quiet voice. “I had, I must admit, been expecting to find you, how shall I say, hopping on the spot to find out.”

“I just thought you’d say how I shouldn’t tell lies; especially about a wizard and that I can’t become one and stuff. But I want to know what kind of magic you can do.” He added, head snapping up, eyes alert with interest.

“All in good time, Marek, all in good time.”

Marek moaned, scuffing his shoes at some crumbling stone on the ground.

“I needed to talk to you about your desire to become a wizard, desire, as you well know, your father is very intent on deflating. However, from our talk earlier I understand that his attempts have not yet worked and, more to the point, your wishes have indeed strengthened over time. Something I have to tell you is quite rare in boys your age.

“Really, how come?”

“Well, you’re what, 15 years of age now?”

“Yeah, that’s right, I’m nearly 16 though.” Marek added stubbornly.

“You see, Marek, the reason your cousin Harold was allowed to the festival and you were not is simply because he has other things on his mind now, for a boy of 15”

“Like what?” Marek interrupted, genuinely wondering.

“Like girls, like a job, money and so forth. So that in your elder’s eyes he is much less likely to be tempted in any way by the, so called, questionable practices on show today. Whereas you show little, if any interest, apparently that is, in your cousins interests, only burying yourself in books and dreaming of magic and sorcery.”

“I like girls.” Marek mumbled, down into his chest. “Just never had a girlfriend is all. Anyway, what’s wrong with that?” He asked, now feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Nothing is wrong with it dear boy. It just shows you are genuinely, and unfalteringly, interested in becoming a wizard.”

“I am. Honest I am.”

“I see. And how long, might I ask, have you been so intrigued by this idea of becoming a wizard?”

Marek shrugged, non-committedly.

“And what is it that particularly draws you to sorcery?”

Marek thought for a moment and then shrugged again. “I dunno.”

There was a pause while Morgen watched Marek gently scuffing at a small stone on the floor.

“Tell me Marek, do you remember when you first had the wish to be a wizard?” Marek frowned. “Was there a particular incident, of some sorts, that had an affect on you?”

Marek ‘ummed’, still frowning.

“Was it perhaps something you read that prompted you?”

Marek kicked the stone he had been scuffing at across the paving stones. “I dunno Morgen.” He said, frowning down at his shoes. “Sorry.”

“Not to worry dear boy, not to worry. Merely curious that is all.” Morgen said, palms outstretched.

“But why do you want to know?”

“Well, merely that a deep interest, obsession even, is a frequent and even a reliable sign of a deep instinctive magickal ability.” Morgen paused. “And that how long someone is, shall we say, interested in the art of sorcery is again often a good indictor as to, not only how much they want but also how far they contain the ability, to pursue the study of magick as well as to what extent they may actually contain some semblance of natural ability. And that is to say nothing of the amount and magnitude of resistance one may experience and what prevailing, despite this, can help to illustrate in an individual.”

There was another pause while Marek found himself a new stone to scuff at.

“These questions are, if you like, a test, to see how much you want and, subsequently, would be willing to work for… it.”

Marek kicked this stone over to join the first one. “But I do want it. I have done, for like ever.” There was a pause.

“And I’ve tried things.” He burst out, suddenly feeling a rush of excitement. Morgen’s wrinkled face, focussed on the young bookkeeper, split into a knowing smile. “Once I tried to gather frog’s spawn, and toad’s, to keep them in a jar and watch them grow. I saved up all my pocket money to buy a big jar, I did, because I got told that you could get juice from toads, and things, and if you drunk it, it could make you do stuff. But my Dad got cross and said I couldn’t because it was wizard like so he chucked them all back in the stream, back there.” Marek pointed behind them, beyond the rear of the garden. “And also, I found this snake once, it was about this big.” He pulled his fingers apart, tongue sticking out of his mouth, trying to show its size.

“Yes, yes, that’s very good Marek. But I am talking about real magic, not simple studying nature and the potions, remedies and tonics one can procure from it. Although it is a very respectable profession and I would be very surprised if you had not done many little experiments to try and discover as much as you can about the natural world. It is, after all, something very close to all aspects of sorcery, and something that I think all great witches and wizard have done as a child.

“Really?” Marek exclaimed, mouth hanging ajar. “You really think I could be a great witch or wizard?”

“Well.” Morgen said with a chuckle. “I think it’s a bit early to be saying that and, besides, you couldn’t be a witch because they are female, you would be a wizard… maybe.” Morgen added. “Anyway, we are getting very ahead of ourselves. The question I need to ask you, Marek, is do you think you have what it takes? Are you able to go the distance, as it were?”

Marek paused, looking at Morgen, confusion etched in his expression. “What do you mean?”

“Well, what I mean is, that, as you will no doubt know, magick and all its official practitioners have just been re-instated as officially legal again.” Morgen said this with an air of pride and self-satisfaction and Marek nodded eagerly, not daring to hope. “To become a sorceror, under an official tutor, in other words to become an Apprenti of a witch or wizard, is once again a viable profession. So, as I just mentioned, to find someone with all the correct desires, abilities and aptitudes to work, and at a good time in their life is… well it is certainly not common, not in this day and age anyway. In other words Marek, we wizards are recruiting.

“What I’m saying is if I took you under my wing, or cloak.” He added smiling. “And considered training you as a wizard.” Marek’s eyes widened into saucers. “Would you be able to work hard enough and not fail me, or worse still give up on me?”

“Yeah! No way… oh yeah. I mean… Wow. That would be great. Honestly, I’d do it, I would.” Marek was on his feet now, jigging up and down like he was trying to stop himself from jumping.

“Very well then.” Morgen said, a touch of finality in his voice. “I will take you under consideration for my Apprenti.”

Marek stared at him, wordlessly. Sheer glee shimmering throughout his body. But, surprisingly, the first thought that jolted him back down was his father. “Does my father know about this?”

“Yes, Marek, he does.”

“He does?”

“Yes, it seems he has consented to the fact that you are of nearly an adult age and, therefore will be searching for a trade of your own soon and must be trusted to make your own choices. And don’t forget Marek that he really cannot actually prevent you fulfilling your ambitions, once you turn sixteen that is. For, as I have just explained, to opt for sorcery as one’s trade is once again back on the cards.” Morgen beamed, widely.

“Wow.” Marek exclaimed. “He said… Wow.”

Morgen chuckled again in his low, calm way. “But remember, I am only considering you for adoption into the world of sorcery. Nothing is yet certain. You shall have to prove yourself a tad more I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, of course. So, so what happens now?” Marek asked, ready to jump at any chance to prove himself.

“Well dear boy, I am going to return to the Wild Boar where I have board for the next few days of the festival and get some sleep.” He paused, standing up, creaking and looked at Marek. “And I suggest you do the same. From what your father tells me you’re watching the shop all day tomorrow, while your family’s at the festival.”

“I’m not tired. Not at all. I could do anything right now.”

“No. You shall go to bed and you shall sleep soundly, your parents shall be home shortly I don’t doubt, but shall not wake you.” It was said more as a statement than a request and Marek bit his tongue, hard, and nodded his head once.

“Good. Now I’m afraid I shall be busy for the next few days with the festival, but in three days time, on the last day of Hoben, I will see if your Father will let you attend…” He paused. “Actually, maybe you should ask him.” He smiled.

“Me, ask my father if I can go to the festival with you. No way. No chance. He’ll say no.”

“My dear boy, one of the first lessons in sorcery is the art of questioning. A very delicate art, and, if the questions you have been asking me are anything to go by, a lesson I think you sorely need.”

Marek looked puzzled but nodded none the less.

Morgen smiled again. “Think about it, and practice.” He emphasised the last word strongly. “And until the last day of the festival read every book you can on magick and sorcery, every book you can find, particularly the ones in this lovely shop of yours.”

“I have. I’ve read them all.”

“Well then my dear boy read them again.” And with that the wizard was gone.

Author's Note

This is a novel I'm currently working through. I'm most of the way through writing it but have only really edited these few chapters.
I really need as much constructive criticism as possible, so if you're able please give some feedback. Things in particular are the overall story, the plot so far and what you think of the characters. Does it feel right?
Any feedback much appreciated.
Thanks:-)