The Return of a Strange Ranger
3rd Ymiden 720
CHAPTER ONE
In Ymiden the arc before, a weird storm had rolled in over Fensalir. Afterwards, some people had turned into stormtouched with animalistic traits. One of them was the ex Ydalir ranger Nathon, a patient Ashling had tried to heal in vain. He had disappeared in Saun 719 and she hadn’t found him again until the end of Vhalar that arc. He had been hanging out with a group of wilderness stormtouched. They called him “Owl” as he had Eagleowl traits.
Those stormtouched people had made a winter camp in the Old Ruins. Ashling had been in a search team looking for missing stormtouched children. The stormtouched had saved the search team from attacking wolves. But, some of them hadn’t been too friendly. Some had wanted to kill the search team to ensure that the hideout would stay unknown. Owl had calmed the situation down, vouching for Ashling. But, after the abductions of many of their kind the stormtouched trusted nobody. They had refused to send the children in their group back to Fensalir. Ashling and her team had returned emptyhanded. But, they had told the healers in Fensalir where to send provisions for the winter.
After that ... Ashling had travelled to Raelia. There, she had met her betrothed, Tristan, and her life had changed. She had not come back to Fensalir until the later part of Ashan this arc. They had taken part in a tournament of plants and potions ... and Ashling had also spent time working as a healer. Now, when Tristan was in Raelia and no extra wasteful luxury was needed, she lived in her frugal cottage.
She had moved on with life.
It had been several seasons ...
WOOF!
Ashling woke up, torn from her sleep, dazed and confused. Her dog Silver was barking like a good Melrathi sheepdog should when somebody knocks at the door in the middle of the night. At first, she didn’t understand that somebody was visiting her after midnight. She told the dog to be silent, thinking it was only the animal imagining things.
Silver ignored it and continued barking and growling. He approached the door on stiff legs, the fur on his neck rising like the pelt on an angry wolf. His barking was deeper and darker than Ashling had ever heard it before. Silver was only of medium size and had a nice temperament. But, right now he sounded like a big dog bent on killing an enemy.
Then she heard somebody knock hard on the door several times like in response to the barking. Silver became even more enraged. Ashling’s attempts to calm down the animal were fruitless. Silver’s cute face was no longer cute. His lips curled up, the teeth showing and his ears pricked hard forward. The dog’s message was clear. Danger was incoming! He was going to attack!
Stumbling up from her bed Ashling realized that she had forgotten where she had put the bow. She hardly ever used it. Her chance to find the weapon it in the dark cottage was so small that she didn’t waste any time on trying. A new hard bang on the door made the visitor’s message clear too. They weren’t knocking on the door. They were kicking at it and they were set on stepping in.
A shout followed. “Ashling! Let me in! “
Silver barked like obsessed. But, Ashling had recognized that voice. She hadn’t heard it since late in Vhalar the previous arc. It had been three seasons since she had spoken with him in the Old Ruins. The next moment she felt Kyrie confirm it.
It was Nathon.
She had believed that her troublesome ex-patient had moved to the wilderness for good. What he was doing here, now, was impossible to guess at. But, at least she knew who was out there. She let out the breath she hadn’t been aware that she was holding. The stormtouched could be difficult but she felt that she had no reason to fear him.
“Nathon!” she shouted. “I’m on my way! Stop kicking!”
The kicking on the door stopped but the dog didn’t care. Silver was already riled up. He continued barking and snarling. Ashling realized that she must put a leash on him to keep him from attacking their visitor the moment she would open the door.
“I have to tie the dog!” she shouted. “Wait a bit ...”
“I’ll kill the mongrel if he tries to bite me!” came the answer from the other side of the door. “For Myrkvior’s sake, can you hurry up? I’m losing more blood for every trill you waste! At this pace, I’ll be dead before you reach the door!”
This was a forceful reminder of the temperament and personality of Nathon Eagleowl. It made Ashling feel tempted to leave him to bleed to death outside her locked door. Not that she believed him. His loud shouting and vigorous kicking told her that the risk for him dying within a few trills was only hogwash. It sounded like he might need a needed a healer though. In that case, it might make sense that he was seeking her out. As he was more or less blind in daylight and preferred to operate in the dark of night it also might make sense that he was turning up after midnight.
It might...or might not.
Any way.
She couldn’t turn down a wounded person looking for a healer.
Ashling found the leash she almost never used on Silver. She didn’t like to use it, but the other option was that the dog would attack her troublesome patient. And she didn’t rule it out that Nathon would attack back. So, she tied Silver to one leg of the sturdy bed. The darkness in the cottage made these simple activities complicated. But, despite the inconvenience, she didn’t light a candle or a lantern. The eyes of the man outside the door were over-sensitive to light. It would be a bad start to blind him.
She walked over to the door. “I’m going to open now, Nathon. “
“On time!”
“Move back a bit. I don’t want to hit you with the door.”
Her eyes were adapting a bit and she could see in darkness but not particularly well. Ashling put the key in the lock and turned it three times. It was a procedure she had adopted after her visit in Namdalen Hold in the winter. Somehow, their overdone way of locking doors had made a lasting impression on her.
“For Myrkvior’s sake, what are you doing?” said Nathon as she completed the third turning of the key and pushed the door ajar. The next moment he tore up the door and stepped in like an owl swooping down on their target. Ashling could see that she had been wise to abstain from light. Nathon’s unprotected big red Eagleowl eyes shone like lanterns in the darkness.
Ashling elected to ignore his comment. She wouldn't waste time on meaningless arguments. Her way of locking and unlocking doors was not a priority. Instead, she focused on healing. She was so not going to leave it to the stormtouched man to take command. A healer had to take lead, especially when their patients weren’t easy to deal with. But first, she turned to the barking dog. “Sit! And shut up!” Her tone was such that Silver sat down and replaced the barking with a low and menacing growl.
Ashling turned to Nathon again. “A bleeding? Where? Sit down at the table and show me the wound!”
She made a gesture toward the table and chairs. The storm touched pulled out a chair. The abrupt way he sat (or dropped) down on it told Ashling that Nathon was way weaker than he wanted to show. She concluded that his word about losing blood could be true even if it wasn’t as acute as he had claimed. But, she didn’t want to assume anything. She was going to examine the injury and find out how bad it was and what she would need to do.
Ashling waited but nothing more happened. Nathon sat on the chair next to the wall beside the window. He didn’t lean on the back of the chair nor on the wall beside him. But, all energy seemed to have left him now when he had arrived in the cottage and Ashling was taking over. A bad sign. Nathon wasn’t one to let others take control this easy. She had expected more trouble and more arguing.
“Nathon? Tell me! Show me. At once! ”
“Chest. Neck. Arms. Back.” A shaky laugh-like sound came over his lips as he said this but she knew that it wasn’t a laugh.
Silver growled louder.
The sound of that laugh (not a laugh) made her shudder. With a sinking feeling in her chest, she stepped closer. Whatever had happened to Nathon, he could tell her the story later. Right now she wanted to get down to the healing without any delays. “I will need light when I work,” she told him. “Do you still have the dark glasses I got made for you last summer?”
“In the cloak pocket. The inner one.”
He made no attempt to pull them out. After a brief hesitation, Ashling put her hand inside the cloak and found the assistive. “I’m going to put them over your eyes, so I can light my lanterns. You will still be able to see.”
“Just ... do it ... do whatever you need to do. I have to stay alive, despite it all...”
Ashling put the dark glasses in place and the big red eyes weren’t visible anymore. Instead, in the darkness, it looked like he had the big black eyes of an insect. She had seen the effect before, but it had only been a brief look. It had been in the glassmaker’s workshop, right before Nathon had walked out and disappeared. It had been a long time. Now, she felt a bit unnerved by the sight, but she kept a straight face. It wouldn’t do to seem unsure and so, undermine the patients trust in her.
She lit the lanterns.
Silver kept growling. An intruder was an intruder. The dog disliked the smell of this one and especially of their blood. It was strange and weird. It was unknown, not like the humans used to smell nor like the smell of birds. It was the smell of something else and in Silver's opinion, it was the smell of bad trouble. It didn't make it better that the complex bizarre smell also had a touch of ... cat!
Those stormtouched people had made a winter camp in the Old Ruins. Ashling had been in a search team looking for missing stormtouched children. The stormtouched had saved the search team from attacking wolves. But, some of them hadn’t been too friendly. Some had wanted to kill the search team to ensure that the hideout would stay unknown. Owl had calmed the situation down, vouching for Ashling. But, after the abductions of many of their kind the stormtouched trusted nobody. They had refused to send the children in their group back to Fensalir. Ashling and her team had returned emptyhanded. But, they had told the healers in Fensalir where to send provisions for the winter.
After that ... Ashling had travelled to Raelia. There, she had met her betrothed, Tristan, and her life had changed. She had not come back to Fensalir until the later part of Ashan this arc. They had taken part in a tournament of plants and potions ... and Ashling had also spent time working as a healer. Now, when Tristan was in Raelia and no extra wasteful luxury was needed, she lived in her frugal cottage.
She had moved on with life.
It had been several seasons ...
WOOF!
Ashling woke up, torn from her sleep, dazed and confused. Her dog Silver was barking like a good Melrathi sheepdog should when somebody knocks at the door in the middle of the night. At first, she didn’t understand that somebody was visiting her after midnight. She told the dog to be silent, thinking it was only the animal imagining things.
Silver ignored it and continued barking and growling. He approached the door on stiff legs, the fur on his neck rising like the pelt on an angry wolf. His barking was deeper and darker than Ashling had ever heard it before. Silver was only of medium size and had a nice temperament. But, right now he sounded like a big dog bent on killing an enemy.
Then she heard somebody knock hard on the door several times like in response to the barking. Silver became even more enraged. Ashling’s attempts to calm down the animal were fruitless. Silver’s cute face was no longer cute. His lips curled up, the teeth showing and his ears pricked hard forward. The dog’s message was clear. Danger was incoming! He was going to attack!
Stumbling up from her bed Ashling realized that she had forgotten where she had put the bow. She hardly ever used it. Her chance to find the weapon it in the dark cottage was so small that she didn’t waste any time on trying. A new hard bang on the door made the visitor’s message clear too. They weren’t knocking on the door. They were kicking at it and they were set on stepping in.
A shout followed. “Ashling! Let me in! “
Silver barked like obsessed. But, Ashling had recognized that voice. She hadn’t heard it since late in Vhalar the previous arc. It had been three seasons since she had spoken with him in the Old Ruins. The next moment she felt Kyrie confirm it.
Owl
It was Nathon.
She had believed that her troublesome ex-patient had moved to the wilderness for good. What he was doing here, now, was impossible to guess at. But, at least she knew who was out there. She let out the breath she hadn’t been aware that she was holding. The stormtouched could be difficult but she felt that she had no reason to fear him.
“Nathon!” she shouted. “I’m on my way! Stop kicking!”
The kicking on the door stopped but the dog didn’t care. Silver was already riled up. He continued barking and snarling. Ashling realized that she must put a leash on him to keep him from attacking their visitor the moment she would open the door.
“I have to tie the dog!” she shouted. “Wait a bit ...”
“I’ll kill the mongrel if he tries to bite me!” came the answer from the other side of the door. “For Myrkvior’s sake, can you hurry up? I’m losing more blood for every trill you waste! At this pace, I’ll be dead before you reach the door!”
This was a forceful reminder of the temperament and personality of Nathon Eagleowl. It made Ashling feel tempted to leave him to bleed to death outside her locked door. Not that she believed him. His loud shouting and vigorous kicking told her that the risk for him dying within a few trills was only hogwash. It sounded like he might need a needed a healer though. In that case, it might make sense that he was seeking her out. As he was more or less blind in daylight and preferred to operate in the dark of night it also might make sense that he was turning up after midnight.
It might...or might not.
Any way.
She couldn’t turn down a wounded person looking for a healer.
Ashling found the leash she almost never used on Silver. She didn’t like to use it, but the other option was that the dog would attack her troublesome patient. And she didn’t rule it out that Nathon would attack back. So, she tied Silver to one leg of the sturdy bed. The darkness in the cottage made these simple activities complicated. But, despite the inconvenience, she didn’t light a candle or a lantern. The eyes of the man outside the door were over-sensitive to light. It would be a bad start to blind him.
She walked over to the door. “I’m going to open now, Nathon. “
“On time!”
“Move back a bit. I don’t want to hit you with the door.”
Her eyes were adapting a bit and she could see in darkness but not particularly well. Ashling put the key in the lock and turned it three times. It was a procedure she had adopted after her visit in Namdalen Hold in the winter. Somehow, their overdone way of locking doors had made a lasting impression on her.
“For Myrkvior’s sake, what are you doing?” said Nathon as she completed the third turning of the key and pushed the door ajar. The next moment he tore up the door and stepped in like an owl swooping down on their target. Ashling could see that she had been wise to abstain from light. Nathon’s unprotected big red Eagleowl eyes shone like lanterns in the darkness.
Ashling elected to ignore his comment. She wouldn't waste time on meaningless arguments. Her way of locking and unlocking doors was not a priority. Instead, she focused on healing. She was so not going to leave it to the stormtouched man to take command. A healer had to take lead, especially when their patients weren’t easy to deal with. But first, she turned to the barking dog. “Sit! And shut up!” Her tone was such that Silver sat down and replaced the barking with a low and menacing growl.
Ashling turned to Nathon again. “A bleeding? Where? Sit down at the table and show me the wound!”
She made a gesture toward the table and chairs. The storm touched pulled out a chair. The abrupt way he sat (or dropped) down on it told Ashling that Nathon was way weaker than he wanted to show. She concluded that his word about losing blood could be true even if it wasn’t as acute as he had claimed. But, she didn’t want to assume anything. She was going to examine the injury and find out how bad it was and what she would need to do.
Ashling waited but nothing more happened. Nathon sat on the chair next to the wall beside the window. He didn’t lean on the back of the chair nor on the wall beside him. But, all energy seemed to have left him now when he had arrived in the cottage and Ashling was taking over. A bad sign. Nathon wasn’t one to let others take control this easy. She had expected more trouble and more arguing.
“Nathon? Tell me! Show me. At once! ”
“Chest. Neck. Arms. Back.” A shaky laugh-like sound came over his lips as he said this but she knew that it wasn’t a laugh.
Silver growled louder.
The sound of that laugh (not a laugh) made her shudder. With a sinking feeling in her chest, she stepped closer. Whatever had happened to Nathon, he could tell her the story later. Right now she wanted to get down to the healing without any delays. “I will need light when I work,” she told him. “Do you still have the dark glasses I got made for you last summer?”
“In the cloak pocket. The inner one.”
He made no attempt to pull them out. After a brief hesitation, Ashling put her hand inside the cloak and found the assistive. “I’m going to put them over your eyes, so I can light my lanterns. You will still be able to see.”
“Just ... do it ... do whatever you need to do. I have to stay alive, despite it all...”
Ashling put the dark glasses in place and the big red eyes weren’t visible anymore. Instead, in the darkness, it looked like he had the big black eyes of an insect. She had seen the effect before, but it had only been a brief look. It had been in the glassmaker’s workshop, right before Nathon had walked out and disappeared. It had been a long time. Now, she felt a bit unnerved by the sight, but she kept a straight face. It wouldn’t do to seem unsure and so, undermine the patients trust in her.
She lit the lanterns.
Silver kept growling. An intruder was an intruder. The dog disliked the smell of this one and especially of their blood. It was strange and weird. It was unknown, not like the humans used to smell nor like the smell of birds. It was the smell of something else and in Silver's opinion, it was the smell of bad trouble. It didn't make it better that the complex bizarre smell also had a touch of ... cat!
