(Note: These next three posts, I'm going to try something new. My plan is to offer up a serialized story complete with illustrations. This experiment will last three posts. Whether you like it or not, tell me. And if you hate this, please bear with me. )
“The Sprites won’t leave me alone,” said Dirk.
“And why should they?” responded Dover, “You’re their hero.”
“I was just fulfilling the task at hand,” Dirk said, “liberating the Sprites from whatever lives of servitude they were living under the imps was solely used as a diversionary tactic. If there was a dragon, I probably would have set that free instead.”
Dover stood up from behind his oaken desk. “Your intentions, whether benevolent or not, are beside the point. You saved an entire race of pan-dimensional beings.”
With five short steps, Dover stood behind Dirk and placed a hand on the young man’s leather coated shoulder. “It would be rude for the Sprites to act in any other fashion.”
Dirk’s sunglasses masked his rolling eyes, but the annoyed sigh was more than audible. “Fine. I get it. Gratitude. But aren’t they breaking some sort of dimensional treaty by following me around everywhere?”
Dover groaned wearily as he took a seat in the chair next to Dirk. “They are following all the rules of extra-dimensional travel. Trust me.”
“Fine,” Dirk’s grasp tightened on his backpack. “Before I leave, any info on my next mission?”
Dover reached across his desk and grabbed a leather-bound folder. “This is the dossier for your next mission. All the information you need is in here.”
The Minuteman insignia on the cover of the dossier caught Dirk’s eye as Dover handed the folder over. “Can’t you just give me an oral synopsis?”
“I can see my predilection towards discussing mission specifics has spoiled you,” Dover stroked his silver moustache, “Unfortunately, I must conclude this conference quickly. There is a very important meeting I must not be late for. Furthermore, this mission requires extra knowledge of your date and surroundings than what I would be able to tell you if we followed the pattern of our previous mission briefings.”
With the backpack unzipped, Dirk slid the dossier into the bag thoughtlessly. “I’ll read it later. Can you give me the basics before I go home?”
“The mission takes place in an era known as the Forest of Solitude,” said Dover, “now if you will excuse me, I must prepare for my meeting.”
“Since when is Father Time worried about being late?” said Dirk, who tried to hide a mischievous smirk.
“Never you mind,” said Dover, who had twisted himself in a most uncomfortable position in order to look Dirk in the eye.
With the grin disappearing into his usual grim façade, Dirk left with a courteous farewell right before a glowing-white sprite blinked into existence on Dr. Dover’s shoulder.
The sprite spoke to Dover. Had anyone else been in the room, all they would have heard was a melodic choir of chimes and bells.
“And that’s why I gave him the dossier,” said Dover as he stood up. “Now, would you care for some tea?”
The sprite chimed cheerfully.
***
Grassy Knoll
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