The day passes uneventfully with Burgin occasionally requesting tools, water, or his mug filled with some foul smelling liquid that Ozlo knew to be off limits.

"Boy, towel." Croaked Burgin.

Ozlo looked lazily at the towel, then at Burgin, and then back at the towel before the words seemed to register in his head. "Yes Burgin-"

Burgin snapped out. "I told you to cut that shit out... Just give me the damn towel, I could have already gotten up and grabbed it by now."

Quick to comply, for fear of punishment, Ozlo rushed out over to the rack to grab a towel for his master "Yes..."

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

With a deep, tired sigh, Burgin leaned back in his chair and said. "Alright son, go upstairs, I'm out of apprentices due to the damn war, so you have the pick of beds."

Before his mind could drift off thinking about the war, Ozlo pulled himself up and started heading towards the stairs "Yes B... Yes."

"That's a good lad. Maybe you aren't as slow as they said you were." Burgin went back to wiping his brow after that short statement.

Ozlo trudges up the stairs to find a few simple beds, complete with a simple wooden locker at the base of each. The room itself isn't particularly special, wood, simple, a bit drafty and fairly dusty. "I wonder how long it's been since Burgins apprentices left..." Ozlo thought to himself.

After a long day of standing around handing Burgin items, Ozlo fell straight into a restful slumber. "I hope every day is this easy." Ozlo thought to himself before drifting off.