The apprentice comes across a rusted iron gate, more a landmark than a guard against thick woods. The gate is held closed but not locked, the cold metal screeching as they push past. The path winds forward before turning away, disappearing behind thick trees. Leaves crunch under their feet.
The paper list of ingredients crinkles futher under anxious fingers. The magic user the apprentice stands as a student under instructed them to come here. But the warnings still fly through their head like bats in a warm night.
They come to a stop, looking up to where the trail ends. An old home, strangely well kept in the middle of the lost wood, looms before them. Windows all with their curtains pulled, leaving no sight of life to the outside.
The apprentice gathers themself, taking one final pause before walking up to the home. The wood steps of a front porch creek under their feet. They raise a hand, and with a last gathering of resolve, knock upon the door.
There is silence. They stand waiting, looking down before their eyes go to trail around their settings. The slide of a lock snaps them back to attention. The door opens a crack before opening enough to let the hazy light of afternoon in.
The apprentice steps back, eyes widening as they lay upon the one before them.
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