The Sorcerer's Apprentice
In the north of England, there once lived a great sorcerer. He spoke all languages and knew all the secrets of the universe. He possessed a massive book bound in black calfskin with iron clasps and iron corners. This book was chained to a table firmly nailed to the floor, and when the sorcerer wished to read it, he would unlock it with an iron key. Only he could read this book, for it contained the secrets of the spirit realm.This learned sorcerer had an apprentice—a rather foolish lad. He served his great master but dared not even glance at the enormous black book. He wasn’t even allowed into the sorcerer’s chambers.
But one day, when the master was away, the apprentice couldn’t resist and sneaked into his chambers. There, he saw the strange objects the sorcerer used to turn copper into gold and lead into silver.
There was a mirror that reflected everything happening in the world; there was also a magical shell—when the sorcerer held it to his ear, he could hear whatever he wished. However, the apprentice struggled in vain with the crucibles—he couldn’t manage to turn copper into gold or lead into silver. He stared into the wondrous mirror, but all he saw were drifting clouds and swirling smoke, nothing more. And in the shell, there was only a muffled noise, like the distant sound of waves crashing against an unknown shore.
"Nothing works for me," thought the apprentice, "because I don’t know the spells written in the book. And it’s locked."
He turned around—and what a miracle! The book was unlocked—the master had forgotten to remove the key from the lock before leaving. The apprentice rushed to the book and opened it. The words inside were written in black and red ink. The young man could barely make anything out, but still, tracing a line with his finger, he read it aloud syllable by syllable.
Suddenly, the room plunged into darkness, and the entire house shook. Thunderous roars echoed through the chambers, and a terrifying apparition appeared before the youth. Its eyes burned like two lanterns, and flames erupted from its mouth. It was the demon Beelzebub, obedient to the sorcerer: the youth had accidentally summoned him with the spell.
"Command me!" roared the demon, like the roar of a furnace ablaze with fire.
The youth froze in place, trembling, his hair standing on end.
"Command me, or I’ll strangle you!" But the youth couldn’t respond. Then the demon seized him by the throat and, scorching him with its fiery breath, roared again:
"Command me!"
"Water that flower over there!" the youth desperately shouted the first thing that came to mind, pointing at a geranium in a pot on the floor.
The evil spirit vanished at once but returned instantly with a barrel of water on its back and poured all the water onto the flower. Then it disappeared again and returned with another barrel. And so it went, vanishing and reappearing, pouring water onto the geranium over and over until the room was ankle-deep in water.
"Enough, enough!" the youth gasped, pleading. But the demon didn’t listen. It kept hauling water—after all, the sorcerer’s apprentice didn’t know how to banish spirits.
The water kept rising—soon the youth was knee-deep, then waist-deep, but Beelzebub continued hauling full barrels and watering the geranium. Before long, the water reached the youth’s armpits, and he climbed onto the table; then it rose to the windows, crashed against the panes, and churned around him until he was neck-deep. In vain he screamed at the top of his lungs—the evil spirit wouldn’t stop…
Indeed, it would have kept hauling water, watering the geranium, and surely flooded all of Yorkshire, but fortunately, the sorcerer remembered he had forgotten to lock his book and returned home. And at the very moment when the water was bubbling up to the poor apprentice’s chin, the sorcerer burst into his chambers, uttered a spell, and banished Beelzebub back to his fiery abode.
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