…Scooping the last load of hay from the ground and tossing it onto the heap in his kart, Patrick wiped the glistening film of sweat from his forehead against the back of his hand. He rested his elbow against his rake and watched as life went on around him.
Across the street, Mrs. Eleanor’s flower shop was bustling with busy servants on their daily errands to purchase fresh flowers for their masters. A few doors down, the Herald’s blacksmith, run by two brothers well known for their unparalleled workmanship. At the end of the street, was the finest Bakery in all of England, run by Thomas Farriner, who’s cakes were eagerly requested by Kings and Queens all over the world on their royal visits to England. This was Patrick’s next port of call.
Patrick dumped the rake into his kart, and jerked it towards a narrow alleyway between his parent’s house and his own. At the age of 16, Patrick had been one of the lucky few to avoid having to work in the coal mines. He was kept busy helping his parents run their family business. They ran a fire business, providing fire to businesses that required it every day.
Patrick side stepped into the alley, hiding in the shadows, tied up by a length of rope that wrapped around it’s snout, neck and attached it to a hook on the wall was a small Tepig, a pokemon resembling a small piglet. It flinched in fear as he approached, backing itself closer to the wall. Patrick unhooked the rope and lead Tepig towards the kart, manoeuvred the kart of straw down the lane way towards the bakery.
As Patrick opened the door of the bakery, he was greeted by a jingling bell and with the fresh familiar scent of raw dough, ready to be put into the oven. He tugged at the rope, dragging a reluctant Tepig through the door and gently loosened the rope around it’s snout, allowing it to snort some embers into the big oven while Thomas, the baker tossed handfuls of the straw in to keep the fire’s burning.
As an extra bonus for helping him out, Thomas would always give Patrick an iced cupcake before he would leave, and as Patrick kept an eye on the fire in the oven, Thomas toddled upstairs to fetch Patrick a cupcake.
As Patrick waited patiently, he heard the bells above the door jingle, peeking around the doorway and into the shop front, he saw a young gentleman. From his clothing, Patrick could tell that he was most likely the servant of a wealthy family.
"Hello there, young man, I am here to collect a package for a Mister Rodger Fairfeather" the man requested politely, taking off his top hat as he spoke to Patrick.
"Um, I’m afraid I do not work here, but If you could wait a moment or two, Thomas will be right with you." Patrick replied, wiping the soot from his hands in his trousers as he approached the man. A loud squeal behind him followed by a crash, startled both men and they both darted to the back room. Tepig cowered in the corner, trembling. Thomas was climbing to his feet, after tripping over Tepig. The Kart and the remaining straw was alight in the middle of the room, and all the linen surrounding it was beginning to catch fire.
The servant that had entered the shop, ran to the streets screaming for the assistance of the fire brigade. But it was too late, the walls of the wooden shop were beginning to catch fire now too. Patrick bundled Tepig into his arms and followed Thomas out through a back door into an alleyway. Thomas ran left….in a panic. Patrick could see that the fire was spreading onto the buildings closest to the shop and spreading fast. At the end of the alleyway was Time Tower, as he looked at the tower, his ears filled with an eery sound of bells, as if they were calling him to the tower. Time Tower was one of the tallest landmarks in London, with it’s four giant clock faces, visible too all, from anywhere in the city.
Patrick darted for the doorway, he had never been inside before, only servicemen had access to the tower to fix the clocks when they would malfunction. The door was locked. He kicked and kicked and with a sickening creak the wooden door fell from its hinges.
As he stepped through the arched doorway, he felt an immediate calm fall over him, and even more noticeably, Tepig had stopped trembling in his arms. Climbing the spiral staircase to the roof, he could hear the cries for help outside, yet it was almost as if everything was happening in slow motion. Just as his foot hit the wooden floorboards at the top of the stairs. His whole body was pulled forward, into a bright light. A soothing sound of ringing bells flooded his ears, as a shower of white light washed over his eyes. He could feel the ground falling away from his feet. He clutched Tepig closer to his chest. His warmth, a small comfort.
His feet hit solid ground, for a moment he saw a flash of a strange Pokemon, and then he lost conciousness.