The Quest for an Apprentice - Part 1

The skies above the Rothmore estate stretched wide and cloudless, painted in a rich, uninterrupted blue. Sunlight poured down in golden sheets, casting warmth across the vibrant green grass and blooming gardens that surrounded the house. It was one of those rare, perfect mornings—still, serene, and brimming with quiet promise.

Reuben had risen early, as always. The scent of steeped herbs lingered in the air from his morning tea, and his hands were already ink-stained from preparing a small stack of printed flyers. On one side, a large “We’re Hiring” announcement, and on the other, the job description and instructions for applying. He’d even taken the extra steps of placing an ad in the local paper and updating his website with a dedicated page. The more avenues he covered, the more likely the right person would stumble upon the opportunity—or so he hoped.

But by midday, enthusiasm was lacking. A few patrons politely took a flyer on their way out. Most didn’t. No calls. No emails. Just the usual hum of the shop’s regulars and the creak of worn floorboards. Reuben tried not to let it discourage him, but he’d expected… more.

By nightfall, he locked the doors, dimmed the lights, and curled up in bed, feeling the weight of day one—a complete flop. Not a single lead. Not even a maybe.

But by the end of the week, something shifted.

Each morning, Reuben checked his inbox with a hesitant hopefulness, and slowly, a few inquiries began to trickle in. His heart lifted with each new subject line bearing the word apprenticeship. Some looked promising. Others? Not so much. He could tell at a glance which applicants had passion—and which were simply looking for a paycheck.

Still, it was enough to begin.

One morning, as he stepped into the front room to prepare the shop, he noticed a small pile of envelopes on the floor beneath the mail slot. He scooped them up and brought them back to his office, placing them neatly on his desk before beginning to sort through them.

The first letter was… unfortunate. Smudged, poorly written, and barely legible. He didn’t make it past the first paragraph before it went into the trash.

The second was clean and typed—on generic printer paper. It was technically competent, but hollow. No soul behind the words. It read like someone applying for any job, not someone hoping to be part of something sacred. He sighed and placed it aside.

The third envelope, however, gave him pause.

Made from dark, recycled paper and sealed with a gentle press rather than a sticker or wax, it had a certain quiet dignity to it. Reuben used his letter opener to slide it open, carefully unfolding the parchment inside. The letter was handwritten in ink, the strokes deliberate, elegant, and wise.

As he read, something stirred in him.

The writer spoke of reverence for nature, of a desire to learn not just how, but why. Her words were thoughtful, brimming with curiosity and care. Even her choice of parchment spoke volumes—sustainable, simple, yet beautiful.

At the bottom, it was simply signed: Giselle.

Her name lingered in his mind like a melody. Reuben sat back in his chair, eyes still on the letter. It was the first one that felt right. The kind of letter that didn’t just ask for a job—it offered a partnership.

He scanned to the bottom and found both an email and a phone number. Without hesitation, he composed a reply, formally inviting her to meet for an interview at her convenience. After hitting send, he leaned back and crossed his arms, still stunned by how deeply a simple letter had moved him.

Maybe, he thought, this is what I was waiting for all along.

The day carried on, and business picked up. More customers came through the doors, more flyers disappeared from the front table. Compared to the first day, the week had been a complete success. Spirits lifted, Reuben locked up after the final customer, then returned to his office to finish the day’s paperwork after locking up the shop.

When he checked his inbox one last time, he found a new message waiting.

Giselle had replied.

Her tone was gracious and sincere, thanking him warmly for the opportunity and confirming that she was available to meet the next afternoon around three. Reuben couldn’t help but smile. Her words were just as graceful in the digital realm as they had been on paper.

He shut the laptop, let out a contented sigh, and made his way to bed. For the first time in days, he felt like something new was beginning to bloom.

Tomorrow, he thought, will be a very good day.