School the following day was the same for Arthur. Every school day was the same. He was laughed at relentlessly again, yelled at by Mrs Fairweather, chased by Billy and was made, as punishment for sneaking out of detention the previous day, to write one thousand lines about why children should always wear muzzles.

If that wasn't bad enough, Arthur saw that strange man standing outside again. This time, however, he was not alone. He was with another, a figure covered in a hooded cloak, their face hidden. And more oddly, making Arthur squint, it appeared that the individual was floating.

'I think I need to have my sight checked,' Arthur had said, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.

Once school was over and Arthur was back home without any incident, he gave out a huge sigh of relief, plonked down on his bed and waited for his next sitter to arrive.

Though not related, Arthur had always called the man Great Uncle. He was once a colleague of his parents, now retired, and had been in his life like Mr Scarlett since he could remember.

Arthur didn't have to wait long, for he soon heard the loudest and most obnoxious noise he had ever come across, it sounding like someone had lit a firework up an elephant's trunk and then placing the entire animal inside a room full of giant honking geese.

Arthur bolted from his bed, ran down the stairs and peered out of the front window, finding, as always, his great uncle trying desperately to get out of his car. And it wasn't because his vehicle was tiny or that he was so old that he was having such trouble, which both were true. It was the suit-of-armor that the man always wore. Seriously, he wore it everywhere. He wore it to go shopping, to go for walks and to even go on holiday.

For an hour Arthur just watched and winced. He would have gone out to help but his great uncle was a proud man and had scolded him once for trying to assist.

Finally, the old man raised his armored hands in success but after placing a foot wrong, he tumbled to the ground with a huge clunk. After another hour, he was back on his feet and acting as if nothing had happened.

Now waiting outside his front door, Arthur was greeted with a smile.

'Sorry for keeping you,' his great uncle stammered through his huge and wild mustache, wobbling as if he was going to fall over again. 'I was just testing out the driver's seat in my car before I thought I saw a very rare coin lying on the ground. But after getting a closer look, it was just a bit of flattened rabbit droppings.'

'No worries,' Arthur replied, smirking at the fib. 'And it's always good to see you.'

'Likewise, my dear boy. How was school?'

'It was good,' Arthur lied this time and his great uncle could tell.

'You have greater things in store for you that school will not help you with. To be honest, school isn't that important. It's for losers. Looooosers. And you're a winner, Arthur.'

Arthur frowned. 'That's arguable.'

'Arguable? Poppy-tosh. It's in your destiny.'

'My destiny? What do you mean by that?'

His great uncle waved his question away. 'Let me repeat what I said. School is for losers.'

'I don't think you should be saying that to me, Great Uncle. School is very important. My parents wouldn't be too happy with you if they heard you say that. Anyway, how can you, of all people, think school is for losers? Surely you went to university to become an archaeologist, like my parents?'

'My dear boy, archaeology is essentially just digging in soil. It's not really rocket science, is it? You dig, you find something, you dig again and you find something else? Simple. Simmmmple. Now, be a good lad and get my helmet from my trunk. I need to go sit down for a bit. Testing out my car's suspension really made my legs tired.'

'I thought you were testing out the driver's seat.'

The old man glared down at Arthur. 'I was doing both. Now, helmet please.'

While Arthur walked to the car, he looked back at his great uncle, who was now patting the heads of the gnomes. For some odd reason, the old man always did that. And when he was finished greeting the stone creatures, he started inside. But before he even took two steps, he tripped and dived through the doorway with a loud frightful crash.

'Are you okay, Great Uncle?' Arthur bellowed.

'I'm fine,' his great uncle croaked in pain. 'Just get my helmet.'

Arthur was quick to get what was asked, the metal head covering incredibly heavy, and went back indoors to see his great uncle rolling on the carpet towards the kitchen. Once he made it and eventually got back to his feet again, the old man took his helmet, sat down at the kitchen table and said dizzily, 'Once my legs feel better, let's make you some pancakes for dinner, shall we.'

Though he knew what to expect, it still tasting amazing, Arthur nodded eagerly. After many more bangs and crashes later, he was staring at a bowl of his great uncle's famous Pancake Stew.

'Sorry that didn't work out again,' said the old man. 'I don't know why it keeps turning out the way it does.'

'Maybe you should follow the instructions,' Arthur mumbled, thinking this was one of the many things school taught you.

'What was that, my dear boy?'

'I said, don't worry, Great Uncle. It's delicious as always.' Speaking truthfully, Arthur took a spoonful of the slop, gulped it down and beamed with delight.

'Glad to hear. Now be quick with it. I want to get to sparring before the light fades.'

Every time his great uncle came over, he always wanted to teach Arthur how to wield a sword. And when Arthur had finished his Pancake Stew, he found himself in the backyard facing the old man, the two holding large wooden spoons at each other.

With a thud, his great uncle slammed down the visor of his helmet he was now wearing and said, 'Come at me.'

'If you say so,' Arthur replied before raising his wooden spoon and lunging. But before he was able to strike, his great uncle swatted away the spoon with his.

'You'll have to do better than that.'

Sparring with his great uncle was like day and night. It was as if something came over the old man. Gone was the clumsiness and the staggering and in their place came agility and swiftness.

'Why do you always want to do this with me?' Arthur asked.

'Because knowing how to fight with a sword is incomparable.'

Arthur scrunched up his face. 'When am I ever going to fight with a sword. You do know we're not in the middle ages anymore, right?'

His great uncle raised his visor. 'Do you think I'm losing my mind, Arthur?'

Though he had wondered many times, Arthur replied, 'Not at all.'

'Hmmm.' His great uncle frowned, knowing full well Arthur wasn't telling the whole truth, before suddenly, he lunged himself.

But Arthur was ready and blocked the attack.

'Well done.' His great uncle smiled brightly. 'You're improving quite nicely. Maybe in a year's time, we can do away with these spoons and use real swords.'

Arthur went wide-eyed at the thought, not in the least looking forward to that. But the image of the strange man quickly pushed that dread away. Being that the man had a sword himself, could his great uncle know who he was. Maybe they were sparring partners too.

'Great Uncle, can I ask you a question?' he said.

'Of course.'

'It's about a strange man that I've seen twice now, once yesterday and again today.'

'A strange man?'

'Yes, he was wearing a badge with the word Deputy on it.'

Just then the old man threw off his helmet with a look of concern that Arthur had never seen plastered on his face before. 'Are you sure?'

'Positive,' Arthur replied. 'Do you know him?

'The Shadow comes,' the old man then just mumbled to himself.

Arthur crossed his brows. 'The Shadow? What's the Shadow? What are you talking about?'

'I must leave.' Without another word, the old man trudged across the backyard and back inside with Arthur right behind.

'What's wrong?' Arthur asked, as he then watched his great uncle walk out the front door before slamming it shut, his muffled voice following.

'Be on guard. The Shadow comes. Tell your friends and I'll muster reinforcements.'

Others? Reinforcements? What on earth was he talking about, wondered Arthur? And who was he talking to? Nobody was outside.

'This does it,' Arthur then said. 'My mind is now made up. He's definitely lost his. I'll have to tell my parents when they come back.'

Soon, the old man's car blared a loud goodbye.