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The wings towered above you. Now that you could see the building more clearly, you wondered why someone made a winged tower if it couldn’t fly. Its door remained wide open, showing some vague movements inside. You progressed into the dark interior.
You’d never seen such a complex mechanism. When your eyes adjusted to the darkness you saw various wheels, all turning each other with sharp and perfectly interlocking wooden teeth. At the bottom, you found two large stones which were grinding against each other. Did they grind their grain using the wind? Such instruments must have cost a fortune.
It was only when you gazed down upon the floor that you realized found what you sought; a bucket of what you presumed was decently fresh water. You started cleaning.
The water reflected a spotless and mud-free face. Sporting short, unkempt brown hair and eyes of the same colour, you couldn’t help being quite satisfied with your work. The rest of your body had received the same treatment; your pants were now back to what you presumed was their original brown colour and you half-disintegrated shirt (no wonder you were so terribly cold out there) regained a tinge of what you assumed was its original white colour.
You were terribly wet though.
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Warming yourself near the smouldering remains of the farmhouse again, you wondered what had happened to you. Did you perish? Were you cursed? If so, who placed the curse upon you? And why? What was the purpose of bringing you to this nigh-desolate plain of storms? What did you do to deserve this?
Your thoughts fell silent for a moment. You couldn’t answer any of these questions, could you? You should probably adopt a more solvable line of inquiry. So…
…what happened to this farm?
Your ruminations were disturbed by a loud metallic <span class="mu-i">CLANG</span> coming from the wide house. Time to find out.
