Quoted By:
'My good man, I am trying to offer this village help; whatever happened at the old mill can happen again.' By making an honest offer of assistance, you hope you can win him over. Honesty might be the longest path, as the old chaplain used to say, but it is the path that will lead to the greatest destination.
The man narrows his eyes for a bit before finally responding to your offer of help. <span class="mu-i"> 'Alright, it ain't my neck that's at risk. Let me tell ya something that I have just remembered.' </span> Remembered? Or just conveniently forgotten? You quietly ask yourself. <span class="mu-i"> 'Bout five years ago, a group of o' pilgrims came through here, among them a group of them women monks. What are they called again?' </span> He asks himself while scratching his nose: A large, flat thing that looks like it belongs on a cow, then on a human. <span class="mu-i"> 'They are called nuns.' </span> You inform him. <span class="mu-i"> 'Yeah, yeah, anyway, one of them 'eard the stories and decided to take a look. Dunno what happened, 'cept that she put something on the door, which made the killing stop. But by that point, no one wanted to mill anymore.' </span>
The old farmer looks mildly uncomfortable when he stops the tale; perhaps it reminds him of a sorrowful time in his youth. <span class="mu-i"> 'I was friends with one of the miller's sons when the mill was operational.' </span> The old man begins to have a look of nostalgia and melancholy. <span class="mu-i"> 'But when his father died, he moved away with his mother to find work in the cities; I don't know where he went or where he ended up. If I could, I would pay to tear the damn thing down.' </span> with his chin resting on his hands, which in turn rests on the wooden end of his pitchfork. <span class="mu-i"> 'I you would please 'cuse me, yer lordship. You have brought back some unpleasant memories.' </span> He then solemnly walks off into the fields, where a young boy waves at him to come over.
The mill stands at the summit of the hill, a looming reminder of the past. The young boy's innocent gesture brings a moment of solace to his troubled mind as he joins him in the fields. But not for someone like you, who has never been to this town or this mill. The old building has had its milling sails and frames removed; rather, they were never maintained, the sails are gone, and the frames upon which they used to hang lie scattered and broken in the vicinity. The fields surrounding it are empty—no crops, no livestock, nothing.
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