Rexque Futurus, Rex Hic (A Merlin Fanfic)

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The day was crisp and the sky promised rain. This was not unusual for late December. The lack of snow was a bit unusual, however. It had been a week since the last snowfall, but the absence of it was nothing to be concerned about. If it had been snowing, he would not have ventured out to the town and if had not ventured out to the town, his electricity bill would have been a week or so more late.

For being relatively early in the morning, the sky was quite clear. The clouds made the morning lighter than it should have been however the dawn was blocked out by the heaviness of them. Perhaps they were a promise of snow too? He certainly felt that it should have been cold enough for snow in the night. He had made sure to rug up in warm attire for the morning walk, if he had not it would have been a sure invitation for pneumonia... but it was not like he has never experienced pneumonia. If the worst came to the worst and he did catch it, a few herbs would do the trick to clear it up and the course of a few hours.

A blue lorry truck passed him along the road, standing out amongst the grey landscape and heavy fog. It had delivered last minute stock in preparation for the following day. It had arrived in the town early before the last-minute shoppers had arisen from their beds. That was a smart move for the shop owners, getting stock in before the day started, at this time of the year, people could act extremely crazy in the mall.

He did not really bother with shops. He came into the town when he needed to - taking a three kilometre walk to and from his house to the town centre. Sometimes he would debate about whether at his age, it was really alright to walk such long distances. He supposed he could take the bus but then decided it was too rowdy or he could have bought a house in the town but he had lived in the outskirts for most of his life. He felt it would be disloyal to move houses now.

The walk was a content one when he did choose to venture from his house. Despite the horrendous distance and aching he felt in his legs, he did enjoy the scenery. Glastonbury Tor was a place like no other. The solemn way the hill stood was something that always crossed his mind. The hill was cold, frigid. It had formed centuries ago and had not changed from its state. He had waited a while for it to change, but a couple of centuries after it had formed, he had stopped believing that it was going to dramatically break apart - that one day there would just be rock and rubble and amongst that rock and rubble...

It was never going to happen. Geography, science, in this day and age there was an explanation, a prediction, for everything. Long gone were the beliefs of events happening as part of grander schemes. Long gone was the time where science was thought to be sorcery. Long gone was the time where science was called magic.

Contrary to his reasoning of heading in to town so early, the streets were buzzing with people. That was what the power of today did. People talking, hyper children running around. The town was always the loudest on Christmas Eve. He understood the reasoning for the excitement but did not care too much for the holiday. He had celebrated hundreds of Christmases, he had simply observed hundreds more. The excitement for him was over when it came to yearly observations - actually, there was not much that he got excited about in his old age. The thing that made him feel closest to the emotion of excitement was when the bread or milk went down a cent or two.

The paved streets of Glastonbury were decorated with festive attributes to the holiday. A tree in the centre of the town stood, amongst its branches dangled tinsel and baubles. The tree looked rather sad - it had not faired well in the midnights of fog. It was wilting and the star on the top looked as though it was about to topple over. All the banners across the streets were damp too, they hung soggily from window to window connecting the tall bricked houses. He did not pay much regard to any of the decorations. It was a nice, happy gesture however seeing it again and again every year for hundreds of years made the consideration of the holiday wear off.