An Evening to Spend With Friends

First and foremost, I want to apologise for being absent for so very long. University, work, depression and a blossomed, withered then ended relationship had me occupied elsewhere for some time. I will not be continuing my last post 'Under Watchful Eyes' and henceforth from now abandon it. What I had planned for the narrative has changed in light of the Spook's Revenge, the climactic end to the Wardstone Chronicles. So shook was I by the ending to the book that this story sprang to mind immediately. Yes, that means there are monumental spoilers so if you haven't read the last book then, well, do it now because it's great, but also so that you can fully enjoy this piece of crap story. CHEERS.

Cupping my hands under the quietly bubbling stream, I splashed a handful onto my face to soothe my reddened cheeks in the dying embers of the afternoon sun. I gasped at the sudden cool kiss of the water against my face, but I didn't smile even though it felt such sweet relief after a long day trekking the mountains. I hadn't smiled for a very long time. The wind swept noiselessly through the valley surrounding me, playing with the tussle of my hood so that it danced against my hair at the back of my neck. It would soon be sunset, and these mountain passes would, no doubt, hold host to wolves and other wild animals. So I shook the last clinging water droplets from my face and swung around to face the direction of Chipenden, twirling my staff in my fingers before setting off, clicking the recess for the hidden blade to hear that satisfying click that made me feel so safe.

I arrived in the old familiar Spook's garden not long afterwards, pumping my seasoned legs to stride across the fields and farmland I had come to know so well. As I took my seat on the bench where my dead master once taught me, I observed the sun's descent into the horizon as it bled a crimson red, painting streaks of orange and pink over the fells and landscape sprawled out before me. It was undeniably a beautiful evening. It was the kind of evening to spend with friends. There were precious few of them left now though – as the county Spook I was regarded either as a dangerous meddler with the dark to be avoided, or at best a convenient acquaintance to deal with a boggart or witch problem for a frightened local. Yes, it was an evening to enjoy the comfort of friends.

After a few minutes sitting there, my thoughts turned to Alice. She was always at the back of my mind, everything else was a distraction. I hated her so much… I loved her so much too. She was my everything, yet the only choice I had was to think of her as nothing. She was gone, she did not love me and she probably never did. She had her precious mage Lukrasta now – even though I had him at my mercy and could have finished him in a single swipe. I sighed as the wind whistled gently through the garden, blowing my hair aside from my face and kicking up odd leaves as I gazed across the horizon with a thousand-mile stare. I took a deep breath and recollected my thoughts – what would my master have said to me now? Perhaps he would have given me one of those rare comforting talks. From what I remember of his ways with Alice, however, he would have given me a tight-lipped disappointed sigh and reminded me of all his warnings about her. They had never seen eye to eye; I should never have cheated myself with believing things could be perfect for all three of us. Stretching, I stood up and turned towards the house, unravelling some crumbly county cheese from a pouch in my pocket. Dinner would have to wait; there was something more important I wanted to do first.

I stepped into the cold empty house and hurried to my bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. Hastily removing my cloak and jacket, I carefully untangled the heavy silver chain from my waist and placed it on the small bedside table, lighting a fresh candle in the waning evening light. I opened my drawers and scrabbled up my notes from beneath the cluttered assortment of objects rolling around amongst the parchment. Guiding it over to the warm glow of the candlelight, I delicately took a quill and inkpot from the drawer and began to re-read the note I had found just over a week ago, pinned by a pocket knife to one of the withy trees next to the Spook's bell for business:

To Master Thomas Ward,
I understand that your master, John Gregory, has died in the long fight against the dark and handed down his home and title of county Spook to you. I give my condolences to you – he was a good man. I can safely assume, therefore, that he has trained a young Spook just as capable and talented in his stead. I say this because I ask of your help, Master Ward. A shadow is growing in this land that could envelop not just the county but the world beyond it. As a defence, I am part of an order that was established 10 years ago and is solely dedicated to fighting the dark. We are rallying to widen the group given the threat posed by this shadow, and it is your name that was brought to the attention of our ranks by several members we have already gained. We have been tracking your apprenticeship since the day it began and we need your help – it could make all the difference. You must have a lot of questions but I assure you they can be answered. If you are interested, please meet me next Friday, on the 11th of this month. You will find me on the very spot where you first laid eyes on Alice Deane – she has quite a part to play in this. Good luck and best wishes,

Aerabella Grimhallow

I was very interested in this woman's offer but could I afford to go chasing petty groups at a time like this? The proposed Friday was 2 days from now, so I thought about it for a moment then nodded to myself, deciding there and then I would go. I had already annotated and pored over the note at least a hundred times but this time I did just one thing before returning it to the draw – I underlined 'Alice Deane' and stuffed the parchment back inside, slamming it shut and extinguishing the candle with a short, sharp blow.

Thanks for reading, feel free to comment.