A/N: Jared and Madeline Sandeye are my OCs from the Redwall's Legacy forum. Fernleaf belongs to my fellow user Fernleaf.
Hot…scorching, blazing, plaguing, and intolerable hot, the hottest day recollected in Mossflower Forest or in any day since then.
The woods seemed to wither and fall before the cruel unrelenting heat beating down. Those unfortunate enough to be traveling around from north, south, east, or west found no mercy from this terrible weather. Indeed, even the shade could not keep its cool comfort for long, as the sunlight impaled through the dark at the most inconvenient times, and thus no dreamy frost of winter dared to exist in the presence of this summer drought.
Through Mossflower laboriously stumbled two squirrels. Jared and Madeline Sandeye, the foreigners from the Eastern Islands, rightly felt like the only victims of the sweltering heat of the strange area. Either they are...or they soon would be. Their current location: some miles from the River Moss and far more from any civilization. The woodland depressed their desperate wishes for nourishment and refreshment and refused their needs for healing. If they sought no help, found no safety, divine or otherwise, death would soon come to claim them.
Nothing in their bodies spared them from the afternoon fire, failing at every attempt to draw new energy to their limbs and nerves. Jared's sense of taste had withdrawn completely from him – how long ago? The other four senses undoubtedly were soon to follow. Madeline, on the verge of a fever, her body temperature rising, found no strength to stand or push up and collapsed in a heap on the dirt. Jared wrapped his arms around her broken body, hoisting her up onto his back, draped over the shoulders like a pillow.
"Don't worry, Maddie, we'll find someplace." His voice was dry and soft, down near to the volume of a whisper. "Just hold on. Your brother will find a place, that's a promise. Come on, stay with me."
Be that as it may, even he couldn't root into the courage to prove the authenticity of these words as they accompanied his voice. With Madeline upon his back, Jared wound around the timberland. Left, right, left again, right again. How many turns? How long spent doing it? Time slowed down around the siblings, space drifted away beyond their reach, and reality shattered in front of their eyes.
"It's okay, Maddie," Jared assured her more than himself. "Everything's going to be all right. I'll find a place. Drink as much as your lovely heart desires, the water chilly as ice and fresh as the first snows of winter. Don't leave me."
"Jared…" Madeline's voice sounded devoid of sound itself. "Put me down on the ground, please. I need to lie down on something."
Glad to oblige, Jared removed Madeline from his shoulders. Taking her in arms, he laid the squirrelmaid down on a wet bed of leaves under a towering aged oak tree. Jared sat down cross-legged and put the young precious girl's head in his lap.
Madeline began to cry, and she gripped Jared's trousers tightly. "Stay here, brother. I don't want to be alone in this wilderness."
"Neither do I, sister. Neither do I." The squirrel curled the maid's paws in his own and felt tears starting to streak down his own face. A certain unexpected desperation came to him. His voice suddenly burst aloud, borne by a newfound – albeit limited – strength. Screaming, crying, pleading…praying.
"Help! Somebody help us! Somebeast…anybeast! Please! If anyone can hear us, come here! My sister…she can't hold on any longer! We both can't hold on anymore! Somebeast! Please…!"
He choked on the final word and spoke no more. Peppering Madeline's tear-stained and innocent face with delicate loving kisses, the male squirrel finally surrendered and lay down.
Some few feet away, there sat a stone doorstep on a humble hut of wood and straw with a stone chimney…the last things his cocoa eyes witnessed before closing shut.
Then, a miracle.
It rushed towards them, the first sound heard for a time long since unacknowledged, a sound of salvation. Jared's ears twitched inquisitively and eyes pulled open, looking straight into those of…a ferret. Normal-sized, light brown in fur, and a black mask marking covering his face; it wore a khaki shirt and breeches under a gray hooded cloak.
A hard muteness overcame the squirrel. He wanted to scream, but nothing came. No matter. Vermin or not, this ferret wanted to help. Jared painfully scrambled to his feet and bent down to pick up his stricken sister. She scarcely drew breath. Immediately, Jared's desperation developed into shock. To his incredible surprise, the ferret spoke aloud.
"Into my hut in that clearing! Run!"
Jared sprinted, and reaching the door, the ferret pulled out a key and unlocked it, then helped the squirrel pair inside.
"Put her there." He indicated a feather bed near a curtained window, and Jared obeyed without question, lying Madeline flat on the sheets and pillows. The ferret scrambled around his hut, gathering a mortar and pestle, water, and various herbs and spices.
"You…" Jared made his dumbfound skepticism apparent. "You are vermin. Why are you helping us?"
"It is my code, the vow I made," The ferret explained, pulling up a chair beside the bed. "Please stand back and permit me to tend to your sister. Help yourself to that jug I placed on the table."
Before Jared could stop himself, he topped off two glasses of water for himself and Madeline. He drank desperately, feeling the nerve- and bone-chilling yet heavenly liquid drench his parched throat, the sense of taste returned at last. New life entered his body, however small and simple it was. All the same, it was salvation, and nothing less.
The ferret collected his herbs and spices in the mortar and pestle and mashed them in an urgent hurry. "Had plenty to drink? Bring the other glass here and that clean towel. Grab the matchbox, light one of the matches, and I'll tell you when to drop it in the mixture."
Less than a quarter of a minute passed, and the ferret motioned for Jared to assist. The former soaked the towel in the water and placed it lightly upon Madeline's scorched forehead. Jared lit a match and tossed it into the ground plants. An energetic lively scent arose from them, and the ferret held the mortar and pestle before Madeline's face. Both held their bated breaths.
Suddenly Madeline gasped and stirred in the bed. She opened her eyes, taking one gander at the smoking medicine first, and then at her brother and the ferret.
"Thank you…"
"Thank you," Jared repeated.
The ferret gestured again, and Madeline drank. Both she and Jared took advantage of a minute to process their surroundings. They cared not that their savior was a ferret, as out of the heartbreaking sympathetic greatness of his angelic heart, he had granted them their lives again.
They both met eyes with him, the ferret smiling cordially. "My name is Fernleaf, and I don't believe I've seen you two around the Forest before." He refilled their cups and returned them. Finding another small towel, he passed it to Jared to care for his head. "How long have you two been traveling?" Fernleaf pressed two fingers to Madeline's temples to check her temperature.
"We've lost track," Madeline confessed, not recoiling at the mysterious ferret's touch. "Must've been since this morning, though we just don't know anymore. My name is Madeline Sandeye, and my older brother is Jared Sandeye."
"I am so sorry for your trauma, Jared and Madeline," Fernleaf confessed sincerely, shaking paws. He doused the burning herbal brew, tossing away the match and grinding the plants down more to make into a small drink. "Please make yourselves at home, there's plenty more water to go around. Rest and cool down."
Madeline scooted over nearer to the window and Jared sat down next to her, his back resting on the head of the bed. The maid laid her head on her brother's shoulder, held close in his loving arms. They left the wet towels on their foreheads, inclined ever so slightly to keep them in place.
Fernleaf the ferret continued to care for their every need: selfless, compassionate, and always happy to help. His sole objective was to return these squirrels' lives to them again. At one point, he left the house to fetch water from the River. The guests did not oppose, promising to keep the house clean in his absence, something he found irresistibly humorous. Medications and powder formulas for herbal drinks were left available to treat their fevers.
The siblings' internal temperatures returned to normal at an astonishingly rapid rate over the following hour. They considered their unexpected recovery something miraculous, all credit due to the work of the ferret. While Madeline rested, Jared busied his attention with various books on herblore and healing around the house, no doubt written by the ferret's own paws. These textbooks deeply intrigued Jared, occupied for quite a time at the table. He barely heard Fernleaf returning, hefting two full buckets of water.
"I see what you found!" Fernleaf acknowledged. "I don't deny writing those. Are you a healer?"
"Not me, personally." Jared marked his place in the last book with a small leaf and closed it. "But our mother was a gardener, and my sister picked up on the trade. She'll love reading these."
Fernleaf set the buckets down on the floor and sat down in the chair with a tired sigh. "I have a full dozen of those books. Read what you like, just be sure to return them to the shelf when finished."
Jared handed a cup of the new water to the ferret. "You hauled those by yourself? How did you find the strength?"
"There's a lot you don't know about me, Jared," Fernleaf explained in between sips. "I hold secrets, not unlike you and your sister, most I'd rather forget."
Jared raised no further questions and sat down cross-legged. "How can my sister and I thank you for everything you've done?"
Fernleaf patted the young Sandeye on the shoulder in assurance. "You'll never need to thank me. I only sought to bring your lives back and prevent death from stealing them away. Thus, it is my vow, my promise, my creed as a healer. My work brings me great pride and joy; never would I ask for anything else."
After a little while, Fernleaf stood up again, planning to cook dinner; and although lacking experience in such craft, Jared expressed his desire to help. From their collaborative efforts emerged a brilliant stew of beans, lentils, potatoes, and a wide variety of herbs, mild spices, and vegetables. Madeline soon awoke from her slumber, and the three of them shared a happy and thankful supper together. The two siblings perused and immersed themselves in Fernleaf's healing tomes, and Madeline was instantly fascinated. During Jared's turn on the bed, Madeline and Fernleaf passed the late afternoon into the evening discussing the gardening trade.
For as long as they lived, neither Sandeye denied it. The mysterious ferret named Fernleaf was a living miracle.
"See that place there?"
Over the horizon, standing tall and straight like a giant of red architecture stood a monastery. Fernleaf pointed to it, and the squirrels watched.
"That place is called Redwall Abbey. There is no other like it. Mere words cannot describe exactly what it is. I can tell you that there are nobeasts in the world other than me who understand the healer's art than they, and the workers at the legendary fire mountain called Salamandastron. Go there, they will give shelter. It has been less than a day since you fell on my doorstep, and mortality and life are yours again. The time is now to find your new home."
He placed his paws on their shoulders, smiling kindly. "Worry not, Jared and Madeline Sandeye. I'll always be here should you need me again. At my hut, you are welcome anytime. Go now to Redwall Abbey, and do not falter."
Goodbyes were said, wishes of goodwill and peace exchanged, and the Sandeyes left, their spirits high and their movement unstoppable. The ferret himself looked on fondly until out of sight and then went back inside his house, where he quickly undressed and reclined in bed.
He stood upon the steps of Redwall Abbey. Darkness spread itself around him, the skies, every inch of the ground, and even the air fell into its clutches. Utter horror and dismay struck across Fernleaf's face, fatal cold stabbing his nerves. Nevertheless, he stood still, firmly rooted in the ground.
Before the veil of black and dark purple before his eyes, a massive sharp claw stretched out from the abyss, reaching out towards Redwall in its threat to seize it. A wordless soundless scream erupted from Fernleaf's mouth; the claw's pure evil took no notice of him, forcing its way to Redwall and nearly scratching the front Gate. Fernleaf forcibly shut his eyes, prepared fully for the end.
Then, behind and within the void, the Sun rose, of pure blinding shining gold and endless white, dispelling the darkness. Fernleaf's eyes thrust open and he turned and gazed up. The shadows fled in all directions; the claw writhed and shook in inexplicable pain and faded away, forever banished. In the core of the Sun stood the faceless figure of a male squirrel, both recognized and unrecognized by Fernleaf.
It was at that moment that the wind whispered in his ears.
"Tinarandel…Look to the Dawn."