The little lump among the waves struggled to stay above. It was choking, begging for dry land as the ship passed away.

Salt. Salt. Salt.

The stinging substance wouldn't go, wouldn't stop as it threw him around like a rag doll. He was pulled under the waves by a brutal hand. He swore he hit the bottom once. He squeezed his eyes shut, the cold clinging to him like an icy prison as he fought for his life against it.

He wanted to live, damnit, he had been through too much. Rain pounded on the water's surface.

He couldn't breath, salt tortured him without mercy. He couldn't cry, he hardly could think as he was tossed about and shoved under the waves.

His vision was a blur, his lungs begged for air as he quietly thought

'I'm gonna die free.' It was a bitter-sweet remark lingering as he lost consciousness, his eyes shutting as he sunk.

His next memory was violent stomach aches, throwing up and the foul taste that stayed as he wallowed in his own exhaustion.

He woke up in a forest, his head aching as he rolled over, throwing up salt water and coughing and hacking until his throat was raw and his body felt weak. How was he here? Where was here? He looked around, praying not to be back in Skandia. The irony, escaping only to wash up where he was trying to get away from. He stood, shaking as he stumbled and tried to gain his balance. Suddenly, pain seemed all too evident as his salt-water soaked clothes clung to his skin viciously. Minor cuts and scratches irritated as he walked. It was jerked and hardly anything passable as he pushed his body to continue. His mouth taste like salt. His eyes burned from the crust it left while he slept. He felt pity for himself, confused and dazed as he walked through the what felt like miles but were only yards.

He leaned on trees every minute or so, taking deep breaths and calming down before continuing. It felt like weights on his body, every movements needing more effort than ever. He collapsed on the forest floor, he felt like the trees where mocking him. He felt crazy as his burning back rubbing on the dirt floor. He let out a yell, what he would like to imagine as a roar but only came out as a hoarse, shrill squeak.

He stumbled up, walking as best he could manage. He knew he could be anywhere, he spoke the common tongue and he hoped that'd get him by.

Everything hurt. All everything ever did was hurt. He was free and all he could do was stumble through a forest in pain and praying to whatever god would listen for water. Freshwater.

He soon felt eyes on him, he didn't know how. It was a slight change in atmosphere, a slight feeling hitting him. He tripped over himself, hitting the dirt with a thud, his body screaming for him to rest. Sleep again, please. He was so scared of not waking. His fear were ignored, his body relaxing against the ground seemingly against his will as his sore eyes shut, sleep invading him, hwis pride wounded.

And now he was here, sweeping a porch in a little opening in the forest. He was moved around a great deal before settling in the fief Gilan was appointed to. He had no clue the ranger had that happen after a great deal of observation when he was first found.

Gilan was confident in his decision of apprentice, even though there was quite a few they were iffy. Gabriel hardly wanted to talk about his old life, his scars a long time in the making and would take more to heal. Gilan saw something in the lanky boy and he wasn't completely certain what. Gilan was watching him, acting as if he was scanning over reports as he sat in the grass. He knew one of the boy's more greater weaknesses was his crippling awkwardness around people and how he was basically a stuttering mess when first talking to Gilan, the fact Araluen was a second language to him didn't help and a thick Galician accent often made him become muddled.

Gabriel soon finished, he had already done a monument of chores, getting water, cleaning the cabin and doing dishes. It wasn't anything big or new, it made him hope it wouldn't be this entirely for years. He saw this as a final option, he was lucky to even be taken in but to be offered something that wasn't farmwork was amazing. His lack of literacy capability was an issue and farmwork was even more similar to his old life. Gilan still had him take lessons with the other kids to help him read and write, he was rather adamant to have Gabriel succeed. Gilan saw an unwavering determination in him to not submit to anyone as he had done before. He had no clue how long he had been in servitude, nor did he wish to start that conversation at the moment when the boy was still rather sensitive about the subject. Anyone who asked would be met with silence, the kids in the castle would ask, some to mock and others out of curiosity only to have him pretend he never heard them. Whether intentional or not, Gilan found it amusing.

Gabriel soon walked up to Gilan, his jet black hair swooping in his face which he lazily pushed away. His skin was pale, his nose and cheeks dusted with freckles, his eyes a bright green. He watched Gilan for a moment when he walked up.

"I finished the porch" he said softly, Gilan looked up at him.

"I saw, hm, sit down." Gilan hummed, smiling at him. Gabriel took a place in the grass, softly pulling up a few of the blades as Gilan spoke.

"What do you know about Araluen?" He asked simply

"I know about the king, the fief system and the Barons" Gabriel answer, curious as to where this was going.

"And the rangers?"

"They, uhm serve the king..and one pre fief, and..The other kids said they might deal in black magic" he said sheepishly, sounding silly. Gilan grinned, expecting no less.

"Ah, yes, there might be illusion to it, not exactly magic." Gabriel looked up at him as he continued "The Ranger Corps were founded..a little over a century and a half ago, it was founded as a special intelligence force for Araluen and a rather guard secret." He explained, unsurprised by his baffled but intrigued expression. "We specialize in a variety of skills, stealith, archery, knife work among other things"

Gabriel nodded "What do they- we do exactly?"

"Well, we normal police the fiefs and handle small ordeals and when something big comes along, we're a rather nasty force to handle. We answer to the king and king alone, out ranking even the barons but we aren't ones to flaunt it do to the fact we must work closely with them." Gilan was pleased to see Gabriel staring intently as he listened, seeming to note the information.

Gabriel nodded and Gilan stood rather suddenly, turning to the cabin.

"Let's go inside and eat, yeah?" He made his way into the cabin, Gabriel stood, following. Gilan realized the former slave was rather tall, coming to Gilan's eyes, it was something he noticed before but it was more obvious now. He shrugged it off, heading inside and having a simple lunch with him.

He finished off his coffee over an empty plate, Gabriel starting to clean up. Gilan wondered if he ever had coffee, he assumed not as he poured a cup for him, asking him to come back and sit. He slide the cup over to the confused apprentice, gesturing for him to drink. Gabriel hesitated, raking a sip.

A few sips later and it was gone.

A/N Here it is, I hope you enjoyed it but allow me to address a few a things.

To those who pointed out my constant misspelling of Gilan's name, I realized and cringed because I had already published chapter one and two. Thank you to those who pointed it out, along with my frick ups with the lore, They've been fixed to my knowledge.

Gabriel is Galician but I don't trust my French or Google Translate enough to put it in the story, I might later but at the moment, I'm not sure.

Last thing, chapter two will be out rather soon, along with something else