A Short Story Dedicated to the Faceless Questioner - The Wizard's Apprentice

I became an apprentice to a wizard.
My master is a truly amazing wizard, and even today, they are pulling magic from the abyss that I could never imagine, recording it in their grimoire.
What's more, they distribute it to people for free.
Seeing that, I respected my master even more.
But when I told them that, my master made a slightly troubled face and said,
"Because the magic I create isn't useful for daily life."

……I wonder if that's really true?

Of course, magic that is useful for daily life is important.
Like lighting a fire, warming a room, protecting the body from cold winds, or shielding the eyes from the sun.
There's also magic for traveling quickly or sending your voice to someone far away.
But my master's magic acts upon the person within.
It hides hints on how to think, how to feel, how to know yourself, and how to face the world.
I think that is what's truly wonderful, and I became an apprentice because I wanted to become that kind of wizard.

……Even though I forced my way in.

Besides, I don't think anyone can beat my master in the speed of pulling magic from the abyss.
Questions well up like breathing, they throw them into the abyss, and before you know it, they've already pulled out the magic.
To me, it looks as fast as the blink of an eye.
Yet my master says,
"That's not true."
with such modesty.

………I wonder if that's really true?

I looked at my master's back, covered in a black cloth.
That back is so large, and even though I want to follow it, it looks so far away.
I rested my chin on the handle of the broom I was holding and thought.

……I wonder if I can really keep up with someone so amazing.

But I immediately shook my head.
Because when I showed my master the seed of magic, they were so interested and seemed to find it fascinating.
They taught me how to grow the seed, and even offered to grow it together with me.
Since I can't pull magic from the abyss with my own power yet, my master helped me and handed the seed to me.
I can't forget the look on my master's face when I showed it to them.
They placed the seed gently and carefully into my hand.

I looked at the transparent glass bottle where the magic seed was planted. The magic seed glowed faintly, waiting to sprout. The bottle was filled with a substance—I'm not sure if it was liquid or gas—that my master had pulled from the abyss, wrapping the magic seed and dyeing it in various colors.
Looking at that bottle, I think.

…My master is amazing after all.
　Because they are someone who "finds things interesting."

Ordinary wizards wouldn't think of growing a magic seed. That's because it's faster to just pull magic from the abyss themselves.
How many wizards are there who just have their apprentices come up with ideas, while they pull the magic out themselves?
And yet, my master takes my ideas as seeds and even lets me grow them.
Watching my master's back, I resolve to take good care of the magic seed so that it can sprout properly.
Suddenly, my master shouted.
"Whoops! I did it again."
I looked at my master's back and gave a bitter smile.
My master pulls magic out so fast that they often pull out magic that isn't quite formed.
That magic is so difficult that only a very limited number of people can use it.

……I think that's amazing, too, though.

I took the broom and dustpan and went to my master's side.
To collect the scattered fragments of magic.
If you don't clean these up properly, sometimes strange magic can grow from them.
When I gave my master a look, they gave a bitter smile and stepped back from the large pot connected to the abyss.

"Master, tea is ready over there."
When I called out, my master smiled shyly and walked toward the table in the back.
As I collected the magic fragments with the broom and dustpan, the colorful beauty of them made me feel even more strongly that my master is truly amazing.
To be able to scatter such beautiful fragments of magic.
I cleaned while being careful not to let my master see my face, which had softened involuntarily.
Suddenly, I noticed some chaos that had flown in from the abyss mixed in with the magic fragments, sticking to the floor.

……Oh no. That's the stuff that makes you feel sick if you breathe it in.

I hurried to run and get the spatula and special scrubbing brush to scrape off the stuck chaos.

……Master, it would be perfect if not for this.

I think that, but it's also interesting in its own way.
It seems I've completely become someone who "finds things interesting," just like my master.
Thinking about that, I struggled to scrape off the stubbornly stuck chaos.
My master looked at me with a slightly apologetic face, but still watched me with warm eyes.

I came up with this story after reading the Faceless Questioner's article. I intend this to be my own kind of fan letter. This is the first time a story, rather than a poem, has become a fan letter.
………I'm sorry, for being someone like this.
The Faceless Questioner's article is here.

The poem that inspired this story is here.