Happy new year everyone! So I am hoping to write a lot more this year and in general get more things up with slightly regular timings. I have now finished school (even though my writing doesn't appear like I have) and I don't have the stress from the last year. I am hoping to get off to a good start, as one of my resolutions was to write everyday, so here I am… adding another chapter to this soon to be 3yr old fanfic…
I take a really long time to update…
(And I don't even know if this person will read this, but Brian (otherwise known as guest :D), Sudden Shock will get updated. Eventually. Now can I have a cookie? Please?)
Horace paused from scrubbing the pots in the nearest river to examine it. The thing must have been twice as old as he was, (and it wasn't as though he was a teen anymore) and looked to be twice that. He was forced to wonder what the witch's last slave had died of, if she even had one…
He finally managed to get it to a slightly better shape where he could almost make out the outline of his reflection before moving onto the next pot. How many pots could one person have?! This was, to be rather frank, bullshit. And the woman's house was tiny as well. Horace had no clue as to where the insane lady put everything. He theorised that she must use her magic to conjure up more pots for him to wash just to keep him working and busy.
As Horace paused for a moment to look at the rushing river he was seized by a memory of a long time ago. One that appeared to be in a different life. In this memory he was sitting on the bank of another river, similar to the one he was currently next to. The moment was more peaceful however. He had been doing nothing in particular, particularly pulling at the grass. Will had been beside him with three pots, all which had been scrubbed not that long earlier.
"Won't he get annoyed that you are taking this long?" he remembers asking, worried that his small friend would get in trouble for taking a moment to talk and relax.
"Nah. He only gives me small jobs now anyway. I mean, I do all of the major ones automatically pretty much as soon as I get up to get them out of the road. He told me to stay and talk to you today actually," Will had responded looking down the river in the opposite direction to where Horace was sitting.
Horace could see that no matter how hard Will was trying to hide it, he was worried about completing his apprenticeship. After all, having a whole fief for yourself to look after was a large responsibility, one that Horace had many times been thankful wasn't going to end up his. These moments in Redmont was practically all Will had ever really known. The missions had occurred but they had always returned to this same point, and now he wouldn't.
"I am able to come and visit, you know," he had responded, now ignoring this issue of what Halt was going to think now that it had been slightly resolved.
"I know. It… Just… Everything is going to change now. We won't always be able to just organise a time and have a friendly spar, or even just to sit here on the grass by a river. I actually have to do work." The last part had been said with a grin.
"What are you talking about. You are always complaining about the amount of chores that you are told to do and how you swear they aren't possible to complete in the time Halt gives you!"
"You know how I just complain because I can," Will had finished.
Horace had shaken his head and looked down at the clean pots beside the best friends. "You won't even allow me to help you in moments like this! I mean I could have done some."
Will had looked over and shrugged. He knew that Halt needed done to a certain standard and Horace wasn't used to that, not implying he was lazy. If they werent done in the same way as normal, Halt would start to wonder if he was slacking off, and that was not something Will needed this close to finishing.
Horace was drawn from his reminiscing by a sharp zap. He swore then picked up the next filthy pot to begin on. The witch had somehow managed to do something so that would happen everytime he stopped working for a long enough time. It was one of the reasons why he hadn't just left yet, that and the fact that if he got too far away then he suddenly found himself unable to walk.
With a loud sigh he just continued scrubbing, now understanding why Will had complained so often.
It is too hot.
Full stop.
1 fan. 35 degrees.
The heat wins.
Happy new year
Alyss Mainwaring