65 lines
5.9 KiB
Plaintext
65 lines
5.9 KiB
Plaintext
It was pleasant for a summer night, not too chilly, not suffocating in that way summer nights tend to be.
|
|
Northumbria tends to be a grim old place, so this warmth was rather odd. Odd, but most certainly appreciated.
|
|
The only thing I needed to do after that abysmal, grueling day was to settle down into bed.
|
|
I brushed my teeth, I donned my *tunic of sound sleep*, and let the covers rustle as I wormed my way in.
|
|
A brief pause, then, after all that time, I finally mananged to drift off...
|
|
|
|
A rapping on my window, and in all it's tried and tested glory, it came from outside, with my bedroom being on the second floor.
|
|
Bloody hell, I'm awake, with some spectre doing God-knows-what.
|
|
|
|
I burrowed my way out, and trudged to the aformentioned window. A figure was beckoning me out. A vague one, too.
|
|
Oh whatever, a night walk would do me good, I thought. I paced downstairs, donned my nightgown and slippers, remembered the front door key,
|
|
and fumbled with that infernal contraption they named "the front door lock".
|
|
Upon opening the door, I managed to see the figure a little more clearly:
|
|
Horns, hooves, and what appeared to be a beard.
|
|
Oh thank the heavens, this was most likely a dream.
|
|
|
|
The figure moved away, I began my persuit, an arduous one at that. It seemed to almost glide across the uneven terrain, hopping along each little hill and hillock.
|
|
Of course, I was yet to master this technique, and had to make do with awkwardly stumbling over tuffets, rocks, and sheep dung. I swear I heard the bastard
|
|
chuckle over this. Why don't you try walking the ordinary way, then? See how you feel about being dragged out of the warmest, softest bed in
|
|
the county to wherever in these barren hills you're taking me.
|
|
I still felt I had to trudge on, I didn't have anything better to do, this was a dream after all, and the alternative was waking up in
|
|
the middle of the night, bleary-eyed and with the abillity to drain Ullswater, only to then dream about Ms MacDonald chewing me out for my
|
|
maths homework, *yet again*.
|
|
|
|
Crunch, crack, creak. I settled into a nice rhythm, felt nice to almost hike again. Looks like I was being lead towards Hadrian's wall.
|
|
Figures. A greco-roman character, and a roman wall. I saw that old sycamore tree. He was standing under it. Honestly, looking back,
|
|
it was beautiful, even picturesque, dare I say.
|
|
The tree shrouded in shadow, the stars twinkling, it was like something you'd see some artist spend weeks on.
|
|
I made my last few steps forward, and was greeted with "Evening, Richard". Blighter knew my name. "Well, it's a little past evening, isn't it?"
|
|
He smiled, "Come closer, it's been a while since I had a nice chat with a mortal." I obliged, seemed like a pleasant-enough figure.
|
|
|
|
"Well, why drag me all the way out here, in the middle of the night?"
|
|
"The view, a lot of people take their surroundings for granted." He stretched. "Maybe it's also because I feel like you're good for something."
|
|
My face furrowed, "Good for what?" "Let's not get into that right now. How about we talk about your day instead?" He plopped down beneath the tree,
|
|
while I let out a grown, groan a la teenager, "Awful, simply awful." "I'm grinding away at the same bloody computer for hours on end, entering in rows upon
|
|
rows of crap into a spreadsheet when I know for a fact a computer could do my occupation far better, far more efficiently, and yet our IT department refuses
|
|
to take the crayons out of their ears in order to salvage me from that hellhole."
|
|
"Sounds rough." I didn't know if that was smarminess, or understanding, hard to tell in the low light. "Hopefully you appreciated a bit of a night walk to clear
|
|
your head?" "Honestly, yes." This grin, where did it come from? It clearly wasn't mine. He must have dropped it. "Have you ever thought about leaving?"
|
|
"Heavens no, I'd starve!" I replied, giving the grin back to it's rightful owner. "Then... why exactly are you living *here?*"
|
|
I struggled for a response, a glancing blow on my worldview.
|
|
He continued, however, "think about it, plenty of ariable farmland, a nice easy way of getting food, and you're caged in a cubicle for a tax return
|
|
agency slowly letting your mind rot."
|
|
"It's my grandfather's place." Well, that came out meeker than I expected, not entirely on subject, too. "I understand where you're going with this,
|
|
but that's a risk, and I don't like risks."
|
|
"Well, why not?", he smiled, positively begging for an answer. I defended, "I don't like the prospect of sitting in a cardboard box in Newcastle
|
|
for the rest of my life while politicians call my misfortune a 'lifestyle choice'." Success, or so I believed. He lunged for that point with presicion,
|
|
"Couldn't you start by using some of the money from your occupation? Surely you can simply test the waters before committing, right?" Critical hit. I reeled.
|
|
"Yes. I could."
|
|
|
|
I realised I was arguing with a being about 2000 years more experienced with me. Great going, Rich, really showing you'd be as quick-witted as those protagonists
|
|
in those silly stories you read. I sighed. "Alright, you have my attention, you mentioned about being 'good for something', what were you talking about?"
|
|
"Well, we can start with the farm, first. I'll come back after you get everything sorted, and explain a little more."
|
|
A vague-speaking mentor character, how trite. Still, I could do with something else to do when I'm not working.
|
|
"Alright, where should I start?" I asked.
|
|
"R. Emley's. They've got some amazing supplies. They're south, near Walsby Green"
|
|
"I make no promises, but since my day off's tomorrow, I could pay a visit."
|
|
He held out his hand, "See you tomorrow night, then?" "I'll shake on that," and so I did.
|
|
He said he had nothing more to say, so, I trudged back to my house, slowly realising that I may have just made a pact with a Faerie god.
|
|
|
|
Regardless, I fumbled around with the Cursed Apperatus, flung my slippers and dressing gown off, and crashed in the manner of a mighty felled redwood in the direction
|
|
of my bed.
|
|
|
|
Tomorrow was going to be interesting.
|