The Tale of an Apprentice Baker and a Soap Bubble(João Lopes) Duskwind is a fine month of the four of the elven calendar. It should have been called Autumn a long, long time ago but since then, many things happened and many names changed as well. In any case, this time of the year is a cold one, especially in the northern lands of Atherun. Any time soon, a mantle of snow will fall over the rolling plains of Asttead and turn the green grasslands icy white; so, as one might guess, it'll get even more chilly.

Well, cold days getting colder call for a frequent stay at home, preferably by the lit fireplace. Such was the occasion of our dear sorceress of starlight silver hair and pale skin, and her young apprentice Marcus, who she loved very much. He was cold but sated, since both him and his mother – the Pale Lady – had not so long ago had each a bowl of a rich and delectable soup, with meats and various vegetables.

The night was a peaceful one then. It should have been around nine pm and none of them were expecting any visitors, since the arch-wizard of Asttead – Marcus' father, and the Pale Lady's husband – was out on the weekly town meeting with the mayor, and was due to arrive rather late that night... Because of this the three gentle knocks at the Pale Lady's wooden cottage door sounded of surprise to her and little Marcus. Who could it be at this hour? The Pale Lady got up from her seat to open the door.

“Hello sweetheart...” said the woman at the door.

“Mum... It's been so long...” said the Pale lady, hugging her.

“It has indeed, dear... How have you been? Is little Marcus there with you? He must have grown up so much since I was last here...”

“Oh, he has... we've all been living quite well. We have everything we need, fortunately.” said the Pale Lady. “Oh, please! Come inside and have a seat with us. I'll get some warm drinks meanwhile.”

And so did the woman, putting her leather cloak on the hanger by the entrance and heading towards the living room to sit on the couch by the fire. Marcus was also sitting there, next to her, quietly and shyly looking at her sideways. This woman didn’t look at all like his mother; she had grizzled, red-golden hair, tanned skin, long pointed ears and big green eyes, which white part was darker than the iris and of the same colour. While keeping some distance from him, she looked at the boy with the sweetest smile he'd ever seen from a stranger.

“Excuse me, lady...? Who are you?” asked Marcus.

“Ah, you were too small to remember... Well, my dear, I'm your mother's mother – your grandmother.”

“But-... How can that be? You have pointy ears and dark eyes, lady. Me and Mum are not elves like you.”

“Oh, no. Your Mum isn't my real daughter. I adopted her when she was a few years older than you, decades ago.”

“Oh...”

Meanwhile, the Pale Lady had taken a peek from the kitchen to the living room.

“Mum, would you have some milk with honey? I also have mint tea if you prefer... Oh! And the biscuits! I completely forgot we're out!”

“No worries, sweetheart. I can make do without eating biscuits, although a warm drink would be nice.” said the Pale Lady's mother. “What about you, Marcus? Would you prefer a warm cup of honeyed milk or tea?”

“Honeyed milk...” he muttered.

What an odd visit that was. Who would have guessed that his dear mother had been raised by an elven lady? Little Marcus remembered how some of the older elf kids in his school, down in Asttead, sometimes picked on him for being human; so, he remained a bit suspicious about this visitor. 'Oh, but she's such a nice lady!' he thought. He couldn't help but to stay silent in her company while his mother prepared the beverages. Many questions filled his mind then, particularly those with “how”s and “why”s about the elven lady. One of those regarded her young appearance, and he felt so curious about it that keeping that awkward silence got to be unbearable.

“Can I ask you something, lady?”

“Of course, Marcus dear.”

“If you're my mother's mother, then how come you look as young as her...?”

“Ah, well... I'm not as young as her actually. We elves have a relatively longer lifespan than most humans. It depends on our emotional balance.”

“What does that mean?”

“It more or less means that, so far as we are happy and satisfied, we can live for many years. Much longer than humans usually do.”

“Oh! So, you can live forever if you're happy, right?”

“It's not that simple, dear. We must all die eventually; it's part of our nature. Besides, as we grow older than a century, we start to forget lots of important things, as well as lose our sight and other senses. At a determined point in life, dying comes as naturally as a dead leaf falls from a tree. Many of us consider it a release and accept it with open arms... Ah, forgive me... This is no talk for a boy your age.”

“But it's so impressive! How old are you? Are you over a hundred years old??” Marcus' voice was full of interest and enthusiasm, as well as clear enough to be heard by his mother, who had just arrived at the living room with a tray and three mugs of warm, honeyed milk.

“Marcus! You don't ask your elders about their age! That's quite impolite!” scolded the Pale Lady.

“Don't mind that, sweetheart. He's just curious.”

And the Pale Lady rolled her eyes with a smirk, just before she laid the tray on the coffee table and gave her mother a mug of warm honeyed milk. She and her son Marcus took the other two.

“Do you remember your grandmother, dear? She visited us once.”

“Sorry, I don't...” muttered the boy. “But she's been very nice with me.”

“Aw, thank you Marcus... But I'm not surprised you don't recognize me. After all, you were just two years old when I last came here to Asttead.”

“Then it's only fair we make an introduction.” suggested the Pale Lady. “Marcus, this is your adoptive grandmother – Merlawen.”

“Merla is fine too, if you fancy nicknames.” said Merla. “Of course, if you would call me granny or grandma, I'd be more than pleased... There's no need to rush it though.”

“How did you meet my Mum, miss Merl- Granny?”

Merlawen smiled widely. It felt so good to be welcomed by her adoptive grandson as his grandmother; that and to see how interested he was in listening to her. A nice trait about the boy that was; listeners are quite valuable people.

“That was many years ago, back when I lived with my brother on an archipelago of islands, in the Pearl Ocean. We lived in different isles then; he owned and managed several vineyards on one and I used to sell enchantments on another.”

“You're an enchantress?? Mum also enchants lots of things but never lets me do it...”

“You're far too young to grab an enchanting needle by yourself, Marcus. You can make painful burns on your skin if you're not careful.”

“Your Mum's right, dear. Those are very dangerous indeed, in inexperienced hands.” said Merla. “Ah, but you must already know quite a bit about magic... If I know your mother, and I do, then it'd be a tad too tempting for her to teach you about this noble art at an early age.”

“I'm already her apprentice!” said Marcus, proudly. “Ever since she gave me my first wand, when I turned four.”

“You're right, it was too tempting.” admitted the Pale Lady. “I couldn't manage to sit idle as I watched him levitate his food with magic.”

“Oh? At the age of four?” asked Merla. “Magic runs deep in your family's veins indeed...”

“Obviously, I don't have to use a wand anymore.” continued Marcus, proudly. “I'm already too advanced for that!”

“My, he's such a sweet little thing!” said Merla, chuckling. “He must be made of honey.”

Quite a big sip Marcus took at his honeyed milk. He really disliked being treated like a baby, and so he skulked a bit while trying to hide his blushing embarrassment by looking down to the bottom of his mug.

“Hmm... Would it cheer you up if I told you a story, Marcus?” asked his grandmother Merla.

“What kind of story...?” he muttered.

“It's about my childhood... One that, regretfully, I have yet to tell your mother. How could I have not told it before? It's one of my most precious memories...”

“A new story? You've gotten me quite interested Mum, and Marcus as well it seems.”

The boy had his eyes wide open and sat on the couch, very closely to his mother, before he asked the most essential question of all.

“Can you tell us the story, grandma?”

“Right away, dear! But first, before I tell you when that was, we shall play a guessing game. First, you must take a guess... at how old I really am!”

The Pale Lady chuckled and Marcus, who still held his mug of honeyed milk, took another big sip at it.

“How about... fifty?” he asked.

“Oh, I'm flattered...” said Merla. “It goes a tad up it does.”

“Sixty?”

“Closer, but no. Keep trying.”

“Seventy??”

“Almost there.”

“Eighty.”

“Tss... That was so close. How about a year younger?”

“Seventy nine!”

“Bullseye!” said Merla. “Now, the story happened when I was eleven years old. That was... hmm... Sixty eight years ago! Back then I used to live in the city of Tzaru, down south in Asrrian – the country of my people. I didn't always live there, since I have my origins in Mizurin, another city that I came back to when I was older. Anyway, we lived quite well then. My mother was a baker and owned a few bakeries around the country; she made the best strawberry muffins in the world... I remember those times when my brother and I sneaked into the bakery at night (which was on the ground floor of our house by the way) and borrowed a few for a snack...”

“You used to bake strawberry muffins sometimes back when I started living with you, remember? Was that the same recipe?” asked the Pale Lady.

“Yes but... Oh, they were not quite the same. She had a way of doing them that, well... It belonged just to her.”

“What about your father, Granny? What did he do?”

“He was a professor in Tzaru College; he taught advanced classes of spirit magic.”

“So he was a Sorcerer?”

“Oh yes, and a very powerful one! He didn't show it though, since he always stuck his pointy nose in the middle of all those dusty books he read all the time.” said Merla. “I liked him a lot you see, but... at first, I didn't get to be his apprentice. He took in my brother instead, even though I was the one who would have really liked to learn about magic.”

“Why did he take in your brother then?”

“That was because of my mother's intervention... She was a bit narrow-minded sometimes. Why, she forced me to learn about the bakery business just because I was a girl! In her mind, women were much better suited to be bakers than sorcerers! For what reason? She always said it was because women had a more delicate touch in baking pastries... But what was even worse was that my brother had a slight intolerance to magic, and casting spells really bothered him.”

“How so? And what's that about ‘magic intolerance’?”

“It's like an allergy. Some people have it since birth and the effects depend on whether or not they are elves. In my brother's case, he got a few headaches and sore ears whenever he felt spells being cast. My father kept telling him that he'd get used to it but I think both of them didn't believe much in that.”

“But what would have happened if he were human?”

“He'd have headaches, probably; but not the sore ears.”

“Why?”

“The big difference is that we elves can feel magic with the tip of our ears. That's why they're so long. It's like a sixth sense. Humans don't have it so well developed so they can't feel magic as well as we do.”

“So, what happened in the story?” asked the Pale Lady.

“Ah yes. I was digressing. Well, life was like that; every day I woke up roughly at seven am past a quarter to help my mother and the other bakers make dough and bake some bread. My brother however got out of bed much earlier on the first day of the week to get in a carriage with my father and spend the rest of it in Tzaru college. Oh, how I hated to knead bread first thing in the morning; it was such a dull and mindless task. One day I got so tired of it that I escaped the bakery. I sneaked out when the other bakers thought I was going to talk with my mother, who was at the counter.”

“I did that once!” said Marcus.

“Yes, and Dad caught you right away, thankfully. You shouldn't skip school, you know.” said the Pale Lady.

“Well, yes... I know.” muttered Marcus. “But what about you, Granny? Were you caught by your Dad too?”

“No, at least not yet, and not by him. Still, it's true that I got caught at first, by my brother. He sat on the carriage back seats while I hid behind him, inside the trunk. My father was talking with the driver, on the front seat next to him, so he never noticed I was there.”

“What happened when your brother spotted you?” asked Marcus.

“He blackmailed me. Well... he chuckled first, then he blackmailed me. He said he'd stay quiet about me if I'd later on sneaked out of the bakery with some sweets for him. So typical... That little deal earned me his silence, as well as his protection. I wanted to get inside the college library to learn about spells and told him I wanted to go there; he agreed but asked me for even more smuggled sweets from the bakery in return, ha-ha... So, we made a plan: he'd tell me of a secret passage, next to the college stables, that would lead to the dormitories, where he and the other boys slept for the week. We would meet there and then he'd guide me to the library, where I could stay until another carriage went back into the city to buy supplies for the college.”

“The rest of the ride on the carriage went by without much trouble. It was a tad uncomfortable though...”

“The next step was getting inside the college from the stables. I got terribly bored while I waited for the driver to stop talking to the janitor, not to mention how my cramps began getting worse from that horrible position inside the carriage's trunk.”

“And they didn't find you?” asked Marcus.

“Oh, I was very sneaky in my youth. I just didn't make it to a burglar because I don't think that's at all an honest living.” said Merla, taking a big sip at her honeyed milk. “I was impossible to catch back then, except perhaps on a few occasions... but I'll get to that later.”

“The stables were only a small wooden building next to the huge castle that is the college of Tzaru. Luckily for me though, a massive oak forest surrounds the whole college and sneaking through it to get to the secret passage was child’s play. All I had to do was follow the high towers of the College and get away from the stables as fast as possible. In a matter of minutes I had already spotted that missing brick in the tower wall. There was an opening behind it with a hidden lever, just like my brother had told me. It opened the door to the secret passage.”

“What were the passages for anyway?” asked Marcus.

“Quick escape. Not everyone knew about them, including some of the professors, but the boys who slept there have used it many times, for other uses that included leaving the dormitories at late hours...”

“Oh... And what was it like inside?”

“Dark. Very, very dark. I even had to resort to that one spell I knew well. That of casting a small floating flame to lighten my path. Fortunately though, it was quite straightforward, so there was no chance of getting lost in there.”

“But it must have been scary...” muttered the boy.

“It was! It was such a filthy place, full of dust and rodents I think. I was very scared back then. Mice really gave me the creeps... and now that I come to think of it, they still do, quite much.”

“Where did Tolenil found you, Mum?” asked the Pale Lady.

“Ah, well... You know him. He played me a scare just as I had pulled the lever to open the brick door. I shrieked at him quite loudly, I did. Enough for him to regret that stupid joke and cover my mouth with his hands. But I couldn't get mad at him then; if I did, then who'd help me sneak inside the library?”

“He sounds like a nasty person, your brother, Granny.”

“Oh, not at all. Tolenil is a very good hearted man. He's just... a tad too playful at times.” said Merla. “Anyway, he kept his word and helped me get in there. What I didn't know, was that he was leading me towards the forbidden floor of the library.”

“Ooh! You mean to say it was forbidden because of the dark and evil magic?”

“No no no. Knowledge of forbidden magic is kept always outside the range of most people, including professors. Its research is most often considered state secret. I would have hoped they didn't do it at all... The dark arts are very nasty indeed; very inappropriate to be told about to a boy your age.” said Merla. “What I meant to say was that the floor was exclusively for honorary professors and powerful wizards, since it held knowledge of very, very powerful spells. My brother however... he had a nice idea of the college layout, and all its secret paths. He knew all the levers, all the hidden doors, and all the secret rooms the professors hid from the students. And of course, he also knew that staying out of them was also a very good thing to do, especially because of the risk of getting caught by a thief trap, or by an honorary professor himself!”

“What was that part of the library like?” asked the Pale Lady.

“It was also very dark, and cold too. This was on purpose though, because it helped preserve the books. There was also an opening to the lower floor of the library. There, anyone could take a look at the books in the tall bookcases and the place was much better lit. From the wooden handrail in the forbidden floor I could see lots of older people studying on the tables below. There were also no stairs to that floor of the library; after all, it was not meant to be accessed easily.”

“What other things were there, on the forbidden floor?” asked the Pale Lady.

“Many things. Most were books; some hadn't yet a year while others had thousands! Both had great things written on; the kind that no one wants to fall in the wrong hands. Then there were the magical artefacts...”

“You mean like- like... wands and staves and-...” said Marcus.

“Yes, it had all of those things, but the best of all of them were enchantments.”

“Enchantments! That was exactly what I was going to say!”

“Must have been of the kind that the teachers didn't like little girls and boys playing with.” jested the Pale Lady.

“The very kind! In my case it was a polished pink granite sphere I found on a lower shelf, by the opening to the lower floor. I could sense a very powerful enchantment there with the tip of my ears... Oh, and it looked so appealing! It had a wonderful white glow and an irresistible shine. I just had to touch it and see what it felt like on my fingers, regardless of whatever enchantment that was. What happened next, well... It sure gave me a lesson.”

“After I felt the cold and polished surface of the enchantment, it began getting slippery and soapy. I withdrew my hands to clean them but as soon as I did so, a little soap bubble spawned from the sphere and glued itself to the tip of my finger!”

“What kind of bubble was that?” asked Marcus.

“Like those you make on a bath, only much bigger and scarier. Every time I moved away my finger from the enchantment, the bubble got bigger and bigger! What if I popped it? The floor would be all dirty with that pink soapy substance, not to mention that everyone on the lower floor would hear me up there. There was no other way, I had to walk back to the sphere to see if the bubble got smaller...” said Merla. “And that worked very poorly by the way.”

“How so?” asked the Pale Lady, finishing her mug of honeyed milk after.

“The bubbles growing size was irreversible. Instead of making it smaller, I managed to push my hand into it and get it stuck in there. And I do mean stuck because, if I had pulled it back, it'd just get the bubble even bigger.”

“Of course, it goes without saying that with every minute past, I grew even more scared, not just because I was stuck but also because the more I struggled, the more I found myself inside that damnable bubble.”

“Finally, when there was nothing left of me outside that, I felt my weight drop... I was as light as a feather! It didn't take long for me to take off in that soap bubble and start floating around the library. Worse still was that I was also quite afraid of heights... Oh, how I panicked when the bubble flew over the opening to the lower floor... The fear of having a long, deadly fall was constant, not to mention that I was dreadfully exposed to the people studying down there, and could be caught at any moment.”

“And were you?” asked Marcus.

“Not really... oddly enough. I still ask myself today, how couldn't they have seen me. The bubble sparkled with all the light that came from below. It wasn't much but it still lit up the soapy substance quite well.”

“Wow Mum... You seem to escape every time when sneaking around... When were you caught anyway?” asked the Pale Lady.

“Wait wait! I'll get to that right away!” said Merla. “Just as I had crossed the opening inside my bubble, I began hovering over the stair cases to the other side of the room, where a stone wall stood. But before I could get there a spell pulled me down to one of the corridors and a centenarian elven wrinkled face stared at me quite angrily. He was an honorary professor of Enchanting, whose enragement was far greater than the surprise of seeing me there.”

“Ooh... What did he say?” asked Marcus.

“He first popped the bubble with a spell, and then asked about the name of my dormitory. I had no idea about what he wanted and kept saying that I didn't belong there... Oh, how I cried when he refused to believe me! When he saw he couldn't get anything out of me he hurt my wrist by grabbing it quite violently, and then dragged me out of the library against my will...” said Merla, sighing. “It was horrible...”

“My salvation only came when he came to exit the forbidden floor through one of the professors' secret passages. Someone opened the secret lever before we did and a stone brick panel slid open a door. There came another professor, only this time, he was quite familiar. I remember his words exactly... ‘Merlawen??’ he said. The other professor let go of my hand, surprised to see his colleague, and so I ran towards my father to hug him tightly. ‘Out baking butter biscuits, are we?’ he said, gently stroking the back of my hair.”

“Wow! You were so lucky!” said Marcus. “And what about the other professor?”

“Ah well, he was still my father's superior so he gave him a lecture about the various reasons one should never let kids into that section of the library and how the bubble trap enchantment (which was his invention by the way) was a brilliant idea. In short, he left me and my father a warning, and then left, along with his grumpy mood. After that, well... Father walked with me to his office and we both had a long, long talk about Tolenil's apprenticeship and mine. He even gave him a signed excuse from class to join our conversation after lunch, and we all came to the conclusion I was so anxious to get.”

“When we returned home, by the end of the week, I already had my own wand, as well as knowledge of a few spells all apprentice Sorcerers must know. Mother wasn't too happy about that but after yet another long conversation, we finally set things right. She finally let me become father's apprentice! As for Tolenil... At first, he agreed to become Mother's apprentice, although later on he turned out to be a much better businessman than a baker, and took over the bakery's management while Mother dedicated herself to creating new recipes for pastries and such.”

“And so ends my short story about my youth. How I miss those first days as my father's apprentice...”

Merlawen's childhood story had turned out quite well it seemed. After she finished telling it to her dear family, she blinked and waggled her pointy ears while stirring a bit of honey at the bottom of her mug, and then, she yawned. A warm beverage at night generally tends to make one drowsy, and even though Marcus or the Pale Lady were no exception, they still listened attentively to her the whole time. Marcus perhaps, was the most vulnerable to the mug of honeyed milk and couldn't manage to stay awake the next few minutes after Merlawen's story ended. Of course, the Pale Lady was more than pleased to have her young boy rest his head on her lap and gently stroke his short dark hair, but he couldn't stay there for long. After all, beds do have a use.

Besides, it'd just take a few minutes to tuck the boy in his comfortable bedclothes, and come back to remember the old days with her mother, wouldn't it?

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