As gromit emerged into the sunshine, he knew that today was finally it. After 7 long years on his own, he felt that the time had come to rejoin the rest of the world. Shading his eyes against the bright sunlight, he gazed down at a small village, its stonewalled buildings providing a striking contrast for the greenery and countryside surrounding it. Wondering how much the rest of the world had changed in his absence, he slowly made his way down what was left of a path, nature having reclaimed most of it in the time since he had last used it. As he approached the outskirts he recalled what kind of a person he had been when he had left, a young impatient man who would act before thinking. Now he was older, wiser, calmer and much more powerful…

shame...you never finished your freelancer fanfic!

Within the walls of a large ornate building sat a man, eyes closed, mind focussed. He was sat on nothing but a cushion, legs crossed, hands on his knees. He wore a red robe, and within reach of his right hand was a long staff, a crystal embedded in the end. Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, his face contorted with anger and frustration. As he clenched his fists, a vase on a shelf nearby exploded into fragments. Footsteps. A younger looking man slowly and apprehensively opened the door and peered inside, “Master Esquilax, are you alright?”
“Alright? Of course I’m alright, what could possibly be wrong?” replied the older one, his face now a picture of calm and serenity.
“Very well,” the younger acolyte left him, and he stood up to gaze out of the window…