Chapter Text
Paul McCartney was a young man that lived to the north of his home city, Liverpool. He was twenty five years old and the proud owner of a fine farm. He had lambs, rams, cows, horses, pigs, and planted plenty of vegetables. There was a problem with the vegetables though, a batch of them were stolen every week. It was always carrots, cabbages, radishes, aubergines, peppers, and cucumbers. Half of Paul’s supply of them disappeared in the middle of the night, and had he more money he would have a camera installed.
Paul didn’t live alone. He had Linda Eastman, his stable hand, and Ringo, his shepherd. All three of them were very close friends for years now. There was also Brian Epstein, Paul’s accountant who visited often.
Overall, Paul’s life was pretty good. His father and brother lived back in Liverpool but they wrote and called to each other all the time. He wasn’t married but he had Martha his sheepdog to make him happy, with no time for a wife.
He had always considered himself lucky to have found his farm. The land around Liverpool wasn’t fertile, but his farm was extremely successful and bore great results, it was almost unnatural.
On a cold English afternoon farmer Paul was wandering the forest around his property. It was something he often did, just walk around the trees and the little animals and think about life. He thought about his crops, his animals, farmer things. But that day he was feeling particularly tired after having to chase three chickens around all morning. Lula, Lulu, and Luli they were called. Horrible, terrible chickens.
So Paul decided to take a nap underneath a large oak and next to a small stream. He covered himself with his cape like coat and curled his legs to keep warm. Paul closed his eyes and soon he was asleep.
He woke up with a start, a roar of thunder awakening him. Paul opened his eyes and found that night had fallen and the skies had opened. The young man cursed and quickly got to his feet, sliding in the mud. He adjusted his coat and started to run in what he believed was the direction of his home.
But it soon became apparent, after encountering unfamiliar trees and boulders, that he had been wrong. Paul got to a small clearing and desperately looked around for the familiar path he had walked through earlier.
But it was not to be found. Paul groaned and tried to see through the rain and darkness. He went still as the howls of wolves reached his ears.
Scared, Paul ran from the clearing through a slightly bare way. He felt more than heard those wolves chasing him, the forest trembling behind him. He reached another clearing before he actually saw one, a large black wolf with a snarling snout.
Paul froze as two others appeared behind the leader, mouths salivating as they gazed at him. He took a small step backwards and that was it.
Paul frantically ran as the wolves jumped at him, struggling not to fall in the mud and uneven forest floor. He jumped over bushes and rocks, stumbled into a couple of animals, and turned in too many directions. He would never find his way back home.
It was then that Paul’s foot was snagged by a large fallen branch and caused him to trip. He started rolling down the side of a hill, scratching his face and gaining multiple bruises. His body fell and the moment he reached the bottom of the hill, he hit his head in a large boulder.
Paul knew no more.
The next time farmer Paul woke up it was in a soft surface. He felt...surprisingly good. His body wasn’t sore at all, he felt well rested and healthy. He opened his eyes and blinked a few times. Looking around slightly, he found that he was in a bed with many colourful pillows and blankets all over. “Where the hell…”
“Hello.” Came a cheerful voice.
Paul jumped and looked around madly.
A man appeared and sat to the side of the bed, holding a steaming bowl of soup.
Paul stared. The man was dressed in what had to be described as robes, a psychedelic outfit with a cloak and a hood. There was also a pointy blue hat on top of his head, decorated in what appeared to be shifting constellations. A long earring was hanging from his left ear and his wrists were covered in a million bracelets, along with his neck. They all had weird symbols on them. The man’s bare skin showed that he was covered in tattoos, weird symbols as well. He was sporting a pair of granny glasses, which appeared to change colour every few seconds.
The odd man smiled awkwardly and offered the bowl, “Vegetable soup?”
Paul took it without thinking. He blew on it, “Where am I?”
The man adjusted his hat, “Where you were, the forest.”
Paul frowned, “You live here?”
He nodded, “Yes.” He said with no other explanation.
Paul took a few spoonfuls of the soup, having to admit that it was quite good. He looked at the man, “Who are you?”
“I am John.” The man said with a small bow and a wave.
Paul smiled at the wave, “I’m Paul.”
John hummed, “I know. You’re the farmer.”
The hand holding the spoon froze, “How did you know?”
John chuckled, “I’m not a total hermit, despite what George says.” He smiled, “You plant good vegetables.”
Paul looked down at the soup, “You’re the thief!?” He asked, outraged.
John played with his rings, looking unconcerned. “In a way, it’s George who does the actual taking.”
Paul didn’t care about this George. “Why I outta call the cops on ya!”
John frowned at him from behind the glasses, which had turned blue. “Why are you so upset? You grow for yourself and you grow too much.” He shrugged, “Besides, I give you the weather for such good crops.”
Paul put the soup away, “What does that mean?”
“Well, why do you think it’s so beautiful out here despite the city always being so cloudy and stormy? Why is the land fertile?” John raised his hands, “I’ve put a spell on the place.”
Paul shook his head, “What the hell-”
John interrupted, “Technically it was my aunt who put the spell, but I maintain it.” He raised his eyebrows, “You owe me.”
Paul shifted away, “Spells? Are you on something?”
John frowned, “Of course not.” He stood up, “Eat your soup.”
He left the room and went into the living room just as his familiar, Yoko, entered the house. John grinned, “Hello, mother!”
Yoko had been collecting herbs, the kinds John had a hard time finding. She put down her satchell and bowed to John as he did the same.
“Are you tired?” Asked John.
Yoko nodded, “Very. The wolves came out again.”
“I know.” John said. He grasped her sleeve excitedly, “Look what I found!” He practically dragged her into his bedroom like a little kid dragging their parents to the Christmas tree. Not that John knew much about ‘Christmas,’ it was a winter solstice to him.
He opened the door to a sleeping Paul and ran towards him quietly. He pointed at him and grinned at Yoko.
The familiar gasped, “What is that?” She sounded horrified.
John rolled his eyes, “That’s a human, mother. He’d Paul, the farmer.”
Yoko glared at him, “Why is he here?”
John shrugged, “The wolves were chasing him, I was out looking for herbs and I found him.” Looking for herbs in the rain was most beneficial.
“This is not safe.”
John groaned, “Come on, I’ve not seen a human in decades, mother.” He blinked many times, “Let me be excited.” It was true. The only people John knew apart from George and Yoko were Mick and David, wizards from London and owners of a wizard pub, Bob their owl, Elton the traveling wizard, and his familiar Bernie. The last time he had seen a human was when his aunt had taken him from his mother.
Yoko sighed but turned away in surrender. “Be careful.” She warned and shuddered as her body transformed into that of a black cat. She went into her bedroom to sleep for hours.
John waved her away and turned back to Paul, clapping his hands in excitement. A human...fascinating.
The next time Paul woke up he felt strong enough to stand up. He was alone, that crazy John nowhere to be seen. The room he was in was large and colourful. It had many carpets and bookshelves. There was a table covered in vials and old looking books, along with many paintings hanging round hazardly. There was an empty bird cage near a window, the forest glowing outside.
The farmer went out the door cautiously, finding what looked like a lab of sorts. There were many cauldrons laying around and Paul laughed. Was this John an actual ‘witch?’ What did he do, mix shampoo together? He went beyond the lab through a doorway and found the living room, there were many little couches and cushions to sit on. Paul walked beyond past a row of tall marble pillars and gasped at the sight of three large chandeliers hanging from a glass ceiling. They lead to the main entrance, a large oaken door. But also to a raised...altar?
Paul’s curiosity got the better of him and he went up the flight of stairs. There was a large wooden table covered in a red cloth. There were many thick books covering the surface along with candles, goblets, and...daggers. Paul looked down and gasped. The floor was beautiful. Drawings of runes and scenes of what could have been a fairytale covered the floor and make it lively.
“You like it?” Came John’s voice, “I painted it myself.” He appeared next to Paul.
Paul jumped at the surprise. He looked at John, “It’s beautiful. What are they?”
John was happy to explain, “History. Our history. Snippets of magic.” He started to point them out, “The birth of the constellations, the creation of Earth, the rise of the dragons, Merlin and the Once and Future King, the age of hiding...life.” John looked at Paul, “Here I have access to all that my ancestors have learned, their wisdom runs through me. Their magic, too.”
Paul stared at the man, “You really are a wizard, aren’t you?”
John gave a single nod, “Yes, Paul. I wouldn’t lie.”
Paul smiled then, “Thanks for saving me, then. Don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t.”
John shrugged and walked away from the altar, “Don’t worry about it, those wolves give me and George plenty of trouble.”
Paul followed, again with this George. “So you don’t live alone?”
John shook his head, heading away from the altar and the bedroom into another doorway that lead to what appeared to be a simple kitchen. He poured some water into a pot from an ornate vase and ran a hand over it, instantly there was steam coming out. “Tea?”
Paul sat down at the table, “Please.” He was amazed at how quickly the water had boiled.
John started looking for his tea bags. “George is my owl, he’s away with his mate right now. And Yoko is my familiar.” He smiled as he found the tea.
Paul frowned, “Familiar?”
John gave him his tea. “Familiars are a witch’s companions, their soulmates in a way. They choose us and once they do, we are bound forever. Most of the times they take the shape of an animal, but they can also become humanoid. Yoko helps me with my magic, and with other things.” He smiled, “She’s my friend.”
Paul put down his tea and sighed, “This is surreal.”
John laughed slightly, “For me too, I’ve not seen a human in decades.”
“You must go out sometime.” Said Paul.
John laughed more, “Of course not! Why would I want to leave the forest?”
Paul looked at the man, “How long have you been here?”
John thought for a moment and did the math, “Twenty-two years?”
Paul gasped, “Just you and those two?”
John nodded, “Yes. And my aunty, but she died when I was seventeen.” He shrugged sadly, “Iron poisoning, y’know how it is.”
Paul didn’t actually know but he didn’t want to drag up any sad memories.
John suddenly leaned close, “Your friends must be worried.” He knew about the horse girl and the man with the sheep.
Paul blinked, he had completely forgotten about them! “Oh, yes. Do you have a phone?”
John frowned, “Excuse me?”
Paul made a gesture with his hand, “Telephone?”
The man just frowned more, “Teleport?”
Paul gaped, “No, but can you do that?”
John huffed, “ No. I’m no good at it.”
“Oh.” Paul said.
The wizard stood up and adjusted his hat, “I can take you back to the farm though.”
Paul followed him, “Ta.”
John grabbed a tall wooden staff as they reached the entrance. He looked at Paul, “Never know what you might find.” He said as if the human would understand.
They went out the door, there were lots of exotic flowers planted outside along a nice stone path. On the other side of the path were two horses grazing.
John pointed at the white one, “That’s Cynthia.” And the red brown one, “And Julia.”
Paul had no problem mounting Julia, as the horse was docile. He followed John’s horse as they headed out into the forest.
“Careful Julia doesn’t step on any red mushrooms, the faeries won’t like that.” John warned.
Paul gasped, “Faeries?”
John turned his head to look at him, “Yeah, they have a strong presence in this forest. They help me with the difficult spells and rituals.”
The farmer shook his head, “This is insane. What else is real? Vampires? Werewolves?”
John laughed, “Werewolves have not been seen in decades, maybe more. And I’m sure there must be vampires around somewhere, but they’re mostly legend. Same with mermaids, but selkies are very real.” There was a colony up in Ireland, they sold magic algaes to John for low prices. George took care of the transactions.
“You mentioned dragons earlier.” Paul said.
John’s eyes turned sad, “Our friends were hunted to extinction long ago…”
“Oh.” Was the only thing Paul could say. “Sorry.”
John shrugged, “It’s alright, we’ve still got their wisdom.”
The rest of the ride was filled with idle chatter. Paul mentioned his dad and brother, talked about his chickens and horses. John listened more than talked, fascinated by this human’s life.
Finally the farm appeared and the forest was left behind. Noticing the sun was low in the sky, Paul spoke, “Would you like to stay for dinner?”
The wizard was quiet for a moment but then John grinned, “Why not?”
The door opened before John and Paul could dismount and Linda came running out.
“Paul!” She shouted, “Where have you been!? We’ve been worried sick, I was about to call the police-“
Ringo appeared from behind her, “We thought you’d gotten lost in the forest.”
Paul dismounted, “I did.” He nodded at his companion, “John saved me.”
Lin and Ringo stared at the strange man. Paul couldn’t blame them, the cloaked and heavily tattooed, jewelry covered wizard with a pointy hat was quite the sight.
Linda floundered for a moment, “He did? Oh...I’m Linda Eastman.” She offered a hand.
John didn’t take it, he only bowed.
The shepherd stepped forward, “Richie Starkey, call me Ringo.”
John bowed to him as well. “John...Stanley.” That was his mum’s and his aunt’s last name, though John never had need for it.
Paul clapped his shoulder, “He’s dining with us.”
His friends seemed confused but invited them in anyways. John made sure to hang his hat, cloak, and staff in the entrance. It was good manners.
Now that the hat was off, Paul could see John’s hair. It was a light brown, almost red. It seemed to shine as he shook it.
“So,” started Linda, “Where did you find Paul, John?”
They were seated around the dining table, John close to Paul. He was unaccustomed to so many humans being around him and staring at him funny.
The wizard ate his vegetable rolls, “He fell in a ditch near my cabin.” He explained. “I was out collecting herbs.” He smiled knowingly, “It’s moonshine parsley season.”
Ringo tilted his head, “I’ve never heard of such a plant.” And he was proud to know many herbs and spices.
John giggled, “They’re hard to find. Good for healing potions though, Paul needed a few drops after his fall.”
Linda stared at him. “Potions?” She asked.
Paul let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, y’know. Ointments.”
John hummed, “Well, no-“
Ringo interrupted with a laugh, “I know what you mean, my aunt used to work in an apothecary and I’d name the bottles all sorts of things!” He smiled at the man, “Where do you work, John?”
John frowned, “...in the forest? I’m a-“
Paul clapped his hands, “Dessert! Who wants dessert? John, help me get it, would ya?” He helped the wizard stand up.
John’s thigh high boots were silent as they walked to the kitchen, but his jewelry jingled as they moved. The moment the door closed behind them John ripped his arm from Paul’s grasp.
The wizard glared, “What’s the matter with you? You interrupted me.” Paul had been pretty polite before, why be rude now?
Paul ran his hands over his face, “I know, I’m sorry.”
John sighed, “Why?”
“If you say you’re a, a wizard,” He whispered, “They’ll think you’re crazy.”
John scoffed, “I can prove it.” And he blew into his palm.
Paul jumped as a red flame appeared on the man’s palm.
But John wasn’t finished. He started to whistle a soft tune and a little bird appeared in the fire, it was made of flame and it danced to the song.
Paul was amazed, “It’s beautiful.”
John blew on his hand once more and the bird disappeared. “It’s magic, nothing to be afraid of.” Paul had to know that, right?
The farmer put his hand on John’s, surprised to find it cool and not hot. “I’m not afraid, John. But us humans, we’re not used to this stuff.”
John huffed but nodded his understanding. “Okay, I’m an apothecary then.”
Paul smiled, “Thank you.”
John was leaving. Dinner was over and he had to get home. He and Paul were outside next to the horses, John was adjusting his hat.
“Again, thanks for bringing me home.” Said Paul as John cleaned his glasses.
“Couldn’t leave you there to become wolf food, could I?” John remarked. He looked at Paul, suddenly shy. “Here.” He said and took off one of his bracelets. It was green and made of soft cord. He offered it to the farmer, “This should keep the wolves off you if you...ever want to visit, that is.”
Paul took it with a smile, “I’d love to, but will you be alright?”
John laughed, “Those fiends know better than to come after me by now.” He climbed on Cynthia and shook his staff, causing a bright glow to appear at the top to light his way. “Julian knows the way.” He said.
Paul waved his away, waiting until the wizard’s form was completely gone from view before he returned to the house. What a day this had been, what a perfectly odd and beautiful day.