Apprentices care.

Jarrod ground the herbs carefully; knowing that if he pressed too hard with the pestle he could crack the rock.

The faint, hacking cough tore at his already frayed nerves and goaded him to move faster. Setting the mortar aside, he searched for the sage and in his haste dropped it on the floor.

Another cough, louder this time, broke Jarrod’s fragile control and he fell to his knees as tears cascaded down his face.

‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.’ Jarrod cried silently.

‘Do no apologize boy, try again and continue to try until you succeed. Failure fertilizes success. You learn from each mistake.’ His Master’s words echoed in his head and gave him new strength.

Ignoring the tears he grabbed the sage and pushed himself to his feet. Shredding the herb as he had been seen Master do so many times he mixed it, those from the mortar and jar of Storm Water into the silver bowl.

He picked up the willow spoon and stowed it in his pocket before taking up the metal vessel and focusing his energy into it until it began to boil.

As soon as it had changed from clear to purple Jarrod cut off the energy and ran to his Masters private rooms.

Kneeling at his Master’s bedside Jarrod carefully fed him the mixture, careful to make sure it was only the liquid.

“You did not strain it.” His Master commented hoarsely but Jarrod saw the sparkle in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Master. I was worried it might cool. You always drink remedies hot.” Jarrod replied quietly.

“You are a terrible liar boy” Jarrod sighed in relief as his Master settled into sleep.

So long as his Master recovered he did not care if he was caught in a lie.