A Fool's Goddess - Chapter Five
Of course, I was really quite happy for the company. Being in a new city was always a bit nerve-wracking, so having Chen with me would help boost my confidence. I’d need it too, since the last thing I wanted was to make a bad first impression with a new master.
Chen pointed out a few landmarks and notable businesses as we walked, including the bar he planned to have us drink at. As pushing the carts had made conversation impossible earlier, it was nice to now receive a proper introduction to Dostyn. The city wasn’t really all that different from Unoph, but as I was pretty much unfamiliar with my former home, everything felt rather fresh and exciting. If things didn’t work out, I wouldn’t mind spending the rest of the day wandering Dostyn’s streets.
Once we were at the sculptor’s workshop, I could see why the blacksmith wasn’t aware of its existence. Its front was incredibly plain and unassuming. Only a small placard on the door bearing “Malka’s Studio” gave any indication the building held a business. The window’s blinds were drawn and I couldn’t hear anything close to chiseling. My gut told me the owner wasn’t in, but it couldn’t hurt to check.
Knock, knock, knock. I rapped my knuckles with a steady rhythm.
Surprisingly, I could hear the sound of someone moving around inside. I looked at Chen, and he gave me a thumbs up. I took a deep breath and steeled myself to meet my potential new master.
All that preparation evaporated the moment the door opened.
A tall woman appeared in the threshold, and she was barely covered by a loose, sleeveless tunic. It technically preserved her modesty, but her ample breasts were practically spilling out and the cloth was only long enough to cover half her thighs. She threatened to expose even more as she then leaned on the door’s frame. Her body was supple and curvaceous, and the layer of dust coating her did little to depreciate her allure.
She was, in a word, voluptuous.
Somehow, I managed to look her in the eye to attempt a proper greeting. She appeared to be at least a decade older than me, but that only confirmed the air of experience and authority she was radiating. Notably, her eyes had deep, dark circles under them, and her brown hair was tied in a purely functional bun.
What held my attention, however, was her expression. She was watching me, unamused yet unsurprised. My face burned red as I realized how I had been obviously staring at her.
“Can I help you?” she asked. Her flat tone suggested she wanted to do anything but.
“U-um, yes,” I stuttered as I fumbled in search of my letter of introduction. “Uh… m-my name is, erm, Lior and I’m an a-aspiring sculptor looking for an apprenticeship. I was told I-I should come here and speak with the master.”
My hands held out the letter, but the woman didn’t even bother looking at it. Her eyes continued to stare at me, and I couldn’t help but feel exposed.
“Uh, um… might you be, um, Miss Malka?” I inquired.
“Master Malka,” she corrected.
“S-sorry… I meant no disrespect.”
To my relief, Master Malka didn’t press the matter and instead nodded her head at Chen. “Who’s he?”
“Oh, um, that’s my friend, Chen. He helped me find your workshop. He works for a nearby freighting company, and it was his employer that wrote this letter of introduction.”
I held out the letter again. She finally looked at it, paused for a moment, then grabbed the letter. Without reading it, she slipped it down the front of her tunic.
“Ah. Well, come in.”
Master Malka then turned and headed into her workshop. After exchanging looks with Chen, we followed her, closing the door behind us.
She led us into what appeared to be the living room of her residence. It seemed she also had a workshop/home combination like my previous master, but Master Malka’s felt like someone actually lived here. Where Master Idan had kept things minimalistic, this home was furnished with cushioned chairs and a small table, clearly displaying an ability to entertain guests. But despite that, our host showed little intent of being hospitable.
“Wannabe,” addressed Master Malka. Assuming she meant me, I straightened up. “Go to the kitchen and brew some tea. Leaves are in the jar near the kettle.”
In what I would say was a reasonable response to being a guest who was ordered to make tea, I looked at her with bewilderment. “I… um, y-you want me to make it?”
She then turned to Chen. “Wannabe’s friend, you can have a seat there. I’ll be back in a bit.”
As if no further explanation was needed, Master Malka then stepped out of the room. I then heard the rhythmic thudding of someone climbing stairs. I stood there for a moment, then glanced at Chen. He shrugged in reply.
Dumbstruck, I went into the kitchen and did as I was told.
I managed to brew a pot of tea and set it up with three cups before Master Malka returned. As I had no idea when she’d be back, I sat at the table with Chen to wait. I leaned over and whispered to him.
“I can’t believe this situation.”
“I know. I’ve worked for Boss Gili for a while, but I never knew she was friends with such a knockout,” he said a little too enthusiastically.
“No, I mean how she told me to make tea while she disappeared. What kind of business is she running? I need a master, but I’m not sure I’d want to learn from someone who makes their guests set things up while she goes off to do Gods-know-what. I mean, it’s already been fifteen minutes. Is she taking a bath or something?”
“Well, if you’re not okay with it, I’ll gladly call her ‘Master’.”
“Chen.”
“Gods, she goes by Master Malka. That’s actually begging you to call her ‘Mama’.”
“Chen.”
“My friend, if she runs out of clay, let me know. I’ll be putty in her hands.”
“Chen!”
Before I could get him to stop his salacious remarks, Master Malka walked back into the room. Unbelievably, she appeared to have actually taken a bath. She had cleansed herself of the dust from earlier and her hair was now wet and hanging down to her shoulders. She was wearing a fresh tunic, but now it was properly tied and almost covered her sufficiently. I also noticed she had put on a pair of pants, but that just made me wonder why she didn’t have any earlier.
Still forgoing explanation, she sat herself down at the table and poured herself a cup of tea. She took a sip, paused, then took another. A moment later, she uttered a single word.
“Decent.”
Where before I had believed this meeting was another blessing from Tornara, it now felt like a test of my faith. Swallowing my apprehension, I told myself to hold my judgment until I learned more about this baffling woman.
“Thank you, Master Malka,” I said through a forced smile. “So, if I may, I’d like to ask about being apprenticed to your workshop.”
“Yes, the letter said as much.”
“Oh, you read it already?”
“Did it while I bathed.”
The fact that she didn’t have any problem stating why she had kept her guests waiting didn’t even surprise me. “Um, so are you looking for an apprentice?”
“I am.”
I waited for her to say more. She didn’t.
Even if Master Malka was eerily cold where Master Idan nearly boiled, she was proving just as difficult to hold a conversation with. I was beginning to wonder if having a bizarre personality was required to become a master sculptor. Though at this rate, I’d be driven crazy enough to meet the stipulation by the time I could open my own workshop.
“Well, w-would you consider taking me as your apprentice?”
“Dunno. All I’ve heard is that you helped deliver some cargo. Not much of a reason to think you’re worth it.” Master Malka propped her elbow on the table and rested her head on her hand.
“A-ah, fair enough.” Of course, recommended or not, I hadn’t given her any reason to think I knew which end of a chisel to hold. “Well, if you would lend me some materials, I’ll gladly demonstrate my abilities and show my worth.”
“Nah.”
Something told me today was going to be a day I would never forget.
“I… I’m sorry?”
“Not gonna let you waste my stuff.”
“B-but how can I showcase my skills without anything to work with?”
“Not my problem. You should have thought of that.”
“Well, d-do you have some other test I can try then?”
“Nope,” she replied with woeful indifference.
I weighed my options. I could walk out and leave this behind, but I would still be a sculptor without a workshop, and one with very little coin. On the other hand, I couldn’t think of how to impress Master Malka. If she didn’t have another test and wouldn’t lend me any materials, I couldn’t prove my worth. I didn’t have any stone or clay on me, only my tools, leaving me without-
Wait. I did have something. My eyes darted to my bag as my heart rose with elation.
I still had the figure of Tornara I had sculpted back in Unoph’s inn.
Hopefully it hadn’t broke at some point. It was a bit brittle since I had let it air dry instead of putting it through a furnace, but it should still suffice in demonstrating my detail work. If nothing else, it would show I wasn’t all bluster. I still wasn’t sure I’d want to apprentice myself here, but the thought of being turned away simply because I couldn’t prove my skills felt even more distasteful.
“Um, would something I’ve made beforehand work as proof?” I asked Master Malka.
“Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Perfect, one moment then.”
I rifled through my bag and dug out the small statue. I was glad to see it had survived my travels unscathed. I placed the figure on the table.
On top of a small block stood Tornara, her hands in front of her as though she was singing, sharing a melody from the heavens with her beloved followers. I had sculpted her in her usual attire, making sure to define every crease on the dress and every link on her pendant’s chain. But I was most proud of her face. Capturing Tornara’s expression in art was my ongoing goal, but I felt I had outdone myself this time.
Master Malka held out her free hand, so I passed the figure over to her. She straightened her back and took the statuette in her hands, turning it this way and that as she inspected it. Her previous apathy fell away and I could see her take on an unexpected professionalism. Although the master’s expression was as cold as before, her hands moved carefully and she gently ran her fingers along the figure to feel the details. There was respect in her assessment, even though it was the work of an unproven amateur.
When Master Malka finally put the figure back down, I was eager her verdict. She continued to look at the statue while she took a drink of her tea. Seconds ticked by, and I could feel a bead of sweat run down my neck.
“She’s pretty,” she said at last.
“Right?” Chen happily piped in.
I shot a glare at Chen before turning back to Master Malka. “Thank you. May I ask what you think of my craftsmanship?”
She looked the figure over again, then grunted.
“Not great. But passable.”
“Oh. What could I have done better?”
“For starters, the whole thing isn’t terribly stable. Having the block underneath is a good beginner’s technique, but it’s still structurally weak in the legs. Consider changing things, like having her dress go down further, to allow you to put more material there and strengthen it. You also let it air dry, though I’d hope you at least know putting it through a kiln would have helped. Another is your work on the hair. I’d guess you took a pick and drew out the texturing, but not only does that take too long, but it doesn’t look as natural. I’d recommend wetting the area and gently dragging a stiff brush along it instead. It’s both easier and looks better. There’s also the matter of how you chose to express the dress’ material. You did that ‘wet cloth drapery’ technique the northerners love so much, which is fine, but you weren’t consistent. The shoulders of her dress shouldn’t be so fluffed and airy if you’re going to use that style. I’d assume you used a reference and then imposed the style upon it, which leaves it looking mismatched.”
My jaw dropped. Not at what she told me, but how much. I wouldn’t have thought Master Malka had that many words in her. She, however, sipped on her tea again as if everything was normal.
“Wow… “ was all I managed.
“Where’s your old master?”
I snapped out of my stupor. Despite looking like she was about to fall asleep, Master Malka was quite sharp. I had made the effort to stay quiet about my previous master in the hopes of appearing to be another aspiring artist, but it would seem my own work betrayed me.
Oh well, it was probably easier to keep things honest. There was no need for me to go into the finer details, though, so I could just give her the short version of my recent history.
“Unoph,” I answered.
“What happened?”
“We had an unresolvable difference of opinion on what it meant to create art and I ended up leaving his workshop.”
“Last warning,” she said with surprising sternness. “Tell me the whole truth.”
“S-sorry.” I guess I should have expected she’d know there was more to it than a single sentence. “My old master was very strict on what was and was not permissible in sculpting. I was okay with it at first, but I was deeply impassioned by an event in my life and tried to express it in my creations, which was against my old master’s rules. He tried to discipline me, but I wouldn’t stop. So I… got kicked out when he tired of trying to correct me.”
I grimaced as I realized just how bad that sounded when asking someone to take you under their wing. But before the silence could rattle my resolve, Chen interjected.
“But don’t worry, Lior’s a good guy!” he said. “I think his old master was just an asshole who didn’t want to give up any control. Lior’s just got a lot of passion, so I know he didn’t piss off his master out of spite.”
Master Malka’s eyes leered at Chen. “Didn’t ask you.” She then turned that icy stare back on me. “What inspired you?”
I was afraid of that question. There was no escaping it, but I could at least see about circumventing the subsequent discussion by gauging her response now. Worst case scenario, I could just end things here.
“Before I answer that, I need to ask: how superstitious are you?”
She raised an eyebrow. “Not at all.”
It somehow felt like a lie, but there was no way for me to verify that. I would have to hope she had been honest enough.
“Alright then.”
With a deep breath, I then told Master Malka the same story I shared with Chen this morning. This time, I pulled out Tornara’s painting midway through so she could see the Goddess for herself. Beyond resting her head on her arm again, Master Malka’s expression remained impassive throughout my tale. If she was worried about curses or heretic Goddesses, she was fantastic at hiding it.
“I see,” she said once I had finished.
“I know my affinity for her seems odd but, in a word… I love her. I just can’t help but want to share her likeness through my art. If you find that impermissible, I understand. I feel you’ve helped me enough by assessing my work, so I won’t impose on you further if you’re not comfortable with my mentality.”
“Nah.”
“No?”
“Don’t care what drives you.”
“You don’t?”
“Every artist has their motivation.”
“And that motivation is okay, even if it got me expelled from my old workshop?”
“You need to care about your work to do it right. Making pots and such is one thing, but you can’t create anything worth shit if your heart isn’t in it. I think it was best for you to leave your old master, since it sounds like he was more of a businessman than an artist. You’re the sort that gets completely obsessed with something, so stifling your expressions was just asking for trouble. He was going to teach you how to make money and be successful, not how to be a decent sculptor. Creating whatever you want probably won’t make you any money, but if that’s not why you want to do it, then you were wasting your time there. Your work shows me a solid grasp of the basics and some regional specialties, but it all feels mismatched. It’s like your hands do things by the book for some areas and to your own preference in others, like you’re trying to show me what you see in your mind, but you can’t, so you use these ‘one size fits all’ techniques to fill in the blanks. It’s pitiful.”
Once again, Master Malka ended up saying far more than I thought she was capable of. I wasn’t as thrown for a loop this time, however, so I managed to recover quickly and inquire further.
“So, you don’t think I was being taught correctly?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you mean?”
“Masters are meant to guide apprentices to their goals, not set them on a path to follow.”
“Yeah, I agree,” said Chen. “If everyone kept doing things the same way, everything would get really boring. It’s because people have their own ideas of how to express things that new art can take form. There’s nothing beautiful about a bowl that’s made the same way as a hundred others, but if you paint the bowl like a sunset you saw, it’s suddenly more interesting!”
Master Malka and I looked at him. I pleaded with my eyes to Chen, begging him to not annoy the master. She continued to stare at him, her cool expression unchanging as she seemed to digest his words.
“Huh. Well put,” she nodded.
He smiled a little too widely at the praise.
“But yeah,” continued Master Malka, “I don’t think you were a good match with your old master. You need a studio, not a workshop.”
“I guess I didn’t understand the difference between the two,” I admitted. “May I ask you a question, Master Malka?”
“Sure.”
“Why are you looking for an apprentice?”
She held up a pair of fingers. “Two reasons. I want an assistant to handle the boring jobs. And I want an apprentice to share my vision with.”
“Your vision?”
“Yeah. Follow me.”
Master Malka stood up from the table and went through the doorway she had come from earlier. I eagerly followed, with Chen right behind me. We went down a hallway, passing through another door, and entered what I would assume was the studio proper.
It was a wide, open room, with sculpting tools and supplies scattered across various tables and workbenches. As expected, it was coated with dust, and small pebbles littered the ground. The smell of freshly broken stone filled the air despite an open window allowing a pleasant breeze to enter the studio.
Most intriguing, however, was a series of statues that lined the walls. They were horrific, disgusting visuals of impossible entities. One appeared to be a man ripping himself open to reveal a leafless tree inside. Another was a decaying dog with no limbs that stood solely on its disproportionately large, exposed ribs. A third was a woman whose left arm had been ripped from her shoulder and violently rammed back into her abdomen, yet she smiled hungrily. There must have been at least two dozen figures like these, varying in both size and material.
But despite their grotesque displays, they were expertly created with unreal detail. The dogs ribs showed bits of flesh clinging to the bones while the innards of the man would have seemed soft to the touch if it weren’t for the grey, stony texture beneath.
I could scarcely believe they were created with the same sorts of tools I used. What sort of skills had Master Malka honed in this studio? Surrounded by such monstrous displays, I couldn’t help but feel captivated, awed as I gazed upon the wonders of someone who had truly dedicated themselves to the art of sculpture.
“These are incredible,” I muttered as I approached her works. “This is completely unlike anything I saw at Master Idan’s workshop. They feel so terrifying… so alive…”
“Thanks,” said Master Malka. She had never pointed out the sculptures, but she must have expected that anyone would have been drawn to them. She followed next to me as I inspected each piece.
“Could I ask what inspires these?”
“Nightmares. Can’t sleep most of the time, so I carve out what’s keeping me awake. Makes it easy to sleep after that.”
“Aren’t you… worried about scaring people with art like this?”
“Nope. Some people like them, enough that they’ll pay to own them. I don’t care if some other jackasses aren’t comfortable with it.”
I was beyond envious. Both in her confidence and in her success. My earlier misgivings about her quirks were immediately discarded and forgotten. I now craved to learn from her and study these magnificent techniques she had mastered.
I have to become her apprentice.
“So this is your vision?” I asked.
“Not quite. This is just my expression.”
“What’s your vision, then?”
“To show the immaterial,” she said. “I want people to see what isn’t really there. What I see at night isn’t real, but once I carve it, it feels like I forced it into reality. Mundane things don’t interest me; I only want to create what can’t exist.”
My excitement was mounting, leaving my heart drumming in my chest. It took everything I had to maintain my composure. Everything Master Malka said resonated with me and left my soul aching to hear more about her and her studio.
“Doesn’t that make business difficult?”
“Sometimes, but I don’t care. This is what’s important to me.”
A sharp opposition to the ideology of Master Idan, a raw defiance of his business-oriented views.
This studio was everything I could have dreamed of and more.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I was already impressed by Master Malka and her work, but hearing her values pushed me over the edge. She understood my fixation. She knew too well the painful yearning of having a particular conviction that demanded to be shared with the world, regardless of that world’s reception. Even if my obsession was a beautiful Goddess and hers a plethora of nightmares, I could feel that the difference wouldn’t matter.
The hunger was the same.
She was right. I needed a different sort of master, and I decided that master had to be her. Without warning, I fell to my knees and prostrated before her. Even as my back ached from the efforts, I pushed through the pain to show Master Malka my determination.
“Please, Master Malka,” I begged, “allow me to become your apprentice! After seeing your art and hearing your vision, I know what I need to do with my own sculpting. I can’t imagine apprenticing anywhere else now. Please, let me join your studio!”
I kept myself face down in the dust. My pulse throbbed in my ears as I awaited her response. Come what may, this truly was a day I would always remember. Even if she rejected me, I had learned more in this meeting than I had in a year with my previous master.
Finally, Master Malka spoke.
“Stand up.”
I did as she ordered and hurried to my feet. Her face was still a mask of indifference.
“Glad you’re interested. Let’s talk more.” With that, she turned around and headed back into the hallway.
I took a second to dust myself off and speak to Chen. Curiously, he wasn’t in the room. I was sure he followed us in, but I didn’t pay him any attention after I saw the statues. Perhaps he had to step away to use the restroom or something. I kept an eye out for him as I hurried after Master Malka.
I found Chen sitting back at the table. He seemed a bit pale, but was otherwise his usual cheerful self. The master and I sat ourselves down to join him.
“There you are. I didn’t see you leave the studio,” I said to my friend.
“Y-yeah,” he replied. “No offense to the artist, but those figures aren’t really my style. I felt a bit… queasy, and needed to sit down.”
“Weakling,” said Master Malka.
“It’s not my fault they look so… fleshy!”
“Wannabe.” She shifted the conversation back to me. “Before we go any further, you ought to know everything I’d have you do as an apprentice.”
“Please tell me. I have no problem fetching materials, cleaning the shop, or doing other tasks like that.”
“Oh. Well, that’s half of what I was going to say.”
I almost smirked at my anticipation of her requests. “What else would you have me do?”
“Like I said, my apprentice would do the boring work. I still get requests, but I turn a lot of them down. That’s where you come in. You’ll handle the simple jobs that aren’t worth my time so I can focus on my art.”
“That seems fair. I do have a lot of practice making pottery and popular sculptures, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Hmph. Good point.” She began to lean on her arm again. “Anyways, I’ll teach you what I know in the meantime and you’re otherwise free to use your time as you see fit. You can carve your Goddess until your heart’s content as long as you do your work.”
“That sounds wonderful! I’ll gladly agree to that!”
“Really? Even though we haven’t discussed your compensation?”
My smile froze, then fell away. That’s right, Master Malka hadn’t said anything about room, board, or payment. Living with Master Idan was part of his arrangement, but it was foolish to assume everything would be the same. I winced at my own hastiness.
“Right… I hate to ask, but what sort of wages can I expect?”
“Not offering any.”
My heart plummeted through the floor.
Of course a situation like this was too good to be true. A master who didn’t accept all the work that came to her but would let me carve whatever I wanted in my down time, why didn’t I consider there would be strings attached? My enthusiasm quickly drained and I began to reconsider what I had felt was the obvious choice. The freedom her studio offered was desirable, but I certainly wouldn’t be able to sculpt on an empty stomach.
Then, I heard a strange sound, a repeating murmur that was halfway between a cough and a bird song. I looked to Chen, thinking he was playing some sort of ill-timed joke, but he seemed equally confused. Turning back to Master Malka, she had lifted her head up again, but was now holding her hand over her mouth, as if to suppress something.
She was laughing.
“Sorry. Couldn’t resist,” she snickered.
I grunted. “Well, I can’t blame you. Work without compensation does sound like a joke.”
“Rest assured, I’ll pay you. You just keep flinging yourself into things without any foresight, so I couldn’t help myself.”
I let out a relieved sigh and nearly slumped in my chair. It would seem my wish could come true, it just had to pass through the gauntlet of Master Malka’s humor. But she had a point; that was the third time I had imposed on her without considering the full situation.
At this rate, she was going to teach me more than just sculpting.
“Thank you. And I’m sorry I keep leaping before I look.”
“You’re young, it’s fine,” she dismissed. “As for a home, I think your friend already has some space open, so you can sleep there.”
“What?!” exclaimed Chen. “Who told you that?!”
“Your boss.” Like an ostentatious actress, Master Malka reached into her cleavage and pulled out my letter of introduction. She handed it to Chen, who all-too-eagerly took hold of it. “Said if I took on Wannabe, he could stay in the home she’s been renting out to you.”
Chen quickly scanned the letter, and I could see the moment he read what the master had quoted. “W-well, yes, she did say she was going to board other crew members there, but I…” He looked down before finishing in a small voice. “… I liked having it to myself.”
“Too bad.”
“You know, I’ve been meaning to ask about how you know Boss Gili! You’re awfully complicit with each other!”
“She’s my wife,” Master Malka said with a small, sweet smile.
You could practically hear the sound of Chen’s dreams shattering.
“O… oh…”
“Well, I very much appreciate the offer,” I said to get the conversation back on track.
“I’ll take the cost of rent out of your wages, so keep that in mind,” the master continued.
“That’s fair. I should be able to handle the rest, and I’m assuming Chen can show me where it’s located.”
“Right.”
“So when could I start my apprenticeship?”
“Hmm…” She closed her eyes for a moment. “Tomorrow. I need the rest of the day to prepare, and so do you.”
“That sounds good. Should I show up in the morning?”
“Sure. Anytime is fine, unless I’m actually sleeping.”
“Understandable. Then allow me to ask again.”
I got up from the table and faced Master Malka. There wasn’t a call to be as dramatic as I was earlier, but I still wanted to show her the proper respect she deserved. I bowed at the waist and kept my hands to my side as I made my request once more.
“Master Malka, would you please accept me as your apprentice?”
She likewise wasted no time on theatrics.
“Sure. Welcome aboard.”
She offered her hand and I shook it. With that, I finally let my exhilaration out and pumped my fists. Chen stood up and gave me a congratulatory pat on the shoulder, despite the loss of his solitary living arrangements. Master Malka for her part smiled softly, though she remained seated.
I couldn’t believe my luck. A new friend, a new master, and a new studio. My very life had been reborn from the grueling confinement I was tolerating only a week ago. Despite my lack of religious tendencies, even I had to agree that the blessings of Gods were wonderful. My love for Tornara soared to new heights and my drive to share that love was burning within me, leaving my hands itchy for a chisel or some clay. I had to let her know how thankful I was for this incredible opportunity.
In a word, I felt favored. Favored by my Goddess, Tornara.
Chen and I left the studio shortly afterwards. As we went down the street, our conversations got livelier and livelier, and soon we were loudly exchanging jokes again. He was mainly focused on Master Malka’s allure and the subsequent heartbreak of knowing she’d never want anything to do with him. Likewise, I recalled the embarrassment of how I froze up at the prospect of not getting paid or how dramatic I had been upon seeing my new master’s art. I couldn’t help but cringe at my own silliness.
I followed my friend to what was now our shared home. It was much farther into the city than the studio or the freighting company, at least a half hour walk from either. When we got there, I could see why Chen wanted to keep it to himself. It wasn’t very spacious, and each of the three bedrooms had four beds and little else. The kitchen and living room were joined together and there was just one bathroom. It definitely seemed like it was constructed with the desire of giving laborers cheap, if cramped, living quarters.
I eased Chen’s concerns about privacy by explaining I’d be spending as much time at Master Malka’s studio as possible. Other than that, he actually seemed excited about living together. I knew he and I had hit it off pretty well, so the thought of sharing a home didn’t feel disagreeable. In fact, he decided that we’d accelerate our plans and go out drinking tonight to celebrate. As full of mirth as I was, I agreed to such a good idea.
The problem was that I would end up not remembering most of that night. I had completely underestimated the effects of alcohol. The last thing I can recall is ordering a third pint of ale with Chen cheering me on. After that, I woke up embracing my new home’s toilet. My head was a burning core of agony and my whole body felt as if it was wracked with the prelude of death.
Unbelievably, Chen seemed unaffected. I could have sworn he was already a pint ahead of me when I blacked out, but he appeared well-rested if anything. He happily lifted me up and hummed to himself as he gave me his homemade hangover cure of cinnamon tea and orange juice. It almost helped.
Unwilling to be a complete disappointment, I shuffled over to Master Malka’s studio as soon as I was able, which happened to be past midday. She was once again scantily clad when she answered the door, and she immediately called me out for drinking. I admitted what had happened, to which she smiled. She offered to take things slow today, to just let me familiarize myself with the studio and do some cleaning. Relieved, I thanked her for such consideration.
She then proceeded to vigorously chisel away at a marble block while she explained all of my duties.
I pledged to never drink again.
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