The next day Freak had awoken with the sun shining brightly on his face. He had been up before Master, and so had made his way to the kitchen. The kitchen was still clean from the day before, but he wondered if like Petunia, Master would demand he clean it again. He found a pile of wood in the courtyard, and had stacked it in the fire place. He had no idea how to light a fire, but had he thought it might be a good idea to start small and build it up. So he had piled the smallest branches in the middle, but then had no idea.
Freak sighed. He hadn't wanted to ask Master for anything, asking was never a good idea, but he did want a fire going. So when Master had stumbled down for breakfast Freak had handed over the sandwich he had made before Master could even yell. He waited silently until Master was finished before gathering his courage. "Master, I don't know how to light a fire in the fireplace. Could you show me how?"
Manannan had grunted and stood, "If I must lessen your absolute ignorance, then so be it."
"Thank you Master, you are truly kind."
"Fate has favoured you. Few orphaned youths can know of such fortune. You are lucky to be here, to serve me."
"I am very lucky."
"Indeed!" With that Manannan had pointed at the fire place, at Freaks small pile of branches. "I see you have at least started with the smallest pieces. There is a flint and stone in the draws which you can strike to light the tinder. For now, I will do it for you." And he had then gestured to the fireplace and the branches had burst in flames. Despite having read the man was a wizard, despite having seen the candles light themselves, despite everything, Freak was still amazed at the clear use of magic. "Now get to work! I want the hallways swept, the banisters polished and remember to feed the chickens!"
"Yes, Master. Thank you Master."
Freak hadn't known he had to feed the chickens. He felt bad that the poor things had gone hungry yesterday, as he couldn't see the wizard feeding them. Before he left the kitchen, he carefully stacked some of the larger wood pieces around the fire so it didn't go out.
Outside, behind the chook hut, was a large wooden box filled with feed. Freak made multiple trips spreading 10 large handfuls in the pen, one for each of the chickens who immediately descended. He found a latch on the side of the hut, which opened to expose small nest boxes. He removed the 3 eggs inside.
Over the new fire, he had boiled a pot of water and boiled the eggs, which he had with toast and then grilled ham. It was almost like being back Before, but this time he ate it all himself, with no Dudley winning and stealing his food, no disapproving Petunia, grossly purple Vernon muttering at the paper.
After breakfast he cleaned, washing the plates and wiping down everything. Then he checked the fire, and added more wood. He found the flints, and practiced striking them. It was fascinating to watch the sparks form. Confident he could, if needed, light a new fire, he was happier to go do his other chores, with the possibility the fire might die out.
So he swept the hallways, and then washed them down with a rag, even if he hadn't been asked to. He found some beeswax in the wash room, and used it to polish the banisters.
By then it was lunch, which again he had by himself. Now, with the fire burning, he made a simple stew which could cook slowly until dinner, and he could give some to Master.
With time now, he went back to the journal. It was somewhat comforting to Freak that someone else had bee here before, while at the same time he worried about the fact that it showed he was very much replaceable.
Things had been looking up for Rowan, money in hand from the silverware. But unfortunately, on one of his trips into town he had then been robbed by the same bandits he had sold to in the first place, and had been heartbroken and badly beaten. While recovering Rowan found a secret trapdoor in the study, but had been unable to open the door. Manannan had caught Rowan talking to Francis and turned the poor delivery man into a snail and after that all the deliveries were all made by an old woman, who refused to talk to him. Rowans next plan of escape had involved trying to rob the bandits (possibly by poisoning them) back, but had been unable to find there headquarters. His last entry talked about using the money to buy a ticket with the visiting sailors (pirates, he had qualified), for a fare on their ship away from here (it seemed that there was no longer any daydreams about the shop keepers daughter). It was his last entry. Freak could only hope he had made it.