A/N Long time no see, hehe. Yeah sorry, school just got a bit crazy. I mean who's idea was it to have three huge projects at the same time, just a few weeks before test week? Well not mine.
Something like me: To be honest I was like: How am I going to write a storm. Oh wait if I knock her out I won't have to! Yay let's knock her out!
namvd: I just love torturing OC's... Hehe, well Uhm, enjoy! Oh and add a few years and you have it.
Scbastv: Wow that's exactly right. Weird. Are you sure you don't know me? As for the sea wolves thing that's exactly what I thought. Things'll be explained a bit more in this chapter. Enjoy.
DISCLAIMER! I DON'T OWN RA!
Chapter 2.
May.
If staying here was bad, then this is hell. With two crews on an island made for one. It's too crowded. And skandians get bored. When they get bored, they find something to do. Usually it's drinking. And when skandians are drunk, bad things happen. Mostly fights over who won when they're gambling. Not that Slagor would break up the fights. No that man is the worst of all, he doesn't fight, but he just stands there and watches. Erak usually breaks up the fights. I've grown to hate Slagor. He has little real respect, and I doubt if anyone is loyal to him. To him it's all about the money.
With two crews the work doubled. Twice as much to cook for, twice as much dishes after a meal. twice as much to clean. Have I mentioned I hate cleaning.
The three of us agreed to keep Evanlyns secret. It would be bad if anyone knows. Will and her don't know what a vallasvow is, and I don't want to scare them with the truth. I know Will's has another plan to escape, but I think it's useless due to the miles and miles of ocean around us. Tonight we try, and frankly I'm a bit affraid to go back on a boat. At least this one is smaller, though I'm not sure if that's good.
Will wakes me up, and I know it's time to go. I nod and get up. I carefully open the door and see if anyone's there. No one. I open the door further and walk outside, making sure I stay in the shadows. Will and Evanlyn follow. I sneak ahead when Will gives Evanlyn instructions. I easily make my way to the small boat. I make sure we can leave as soon as the others are here and wait.
After, what seems like, an eternity. Will and Evanlyn are here. We get in the boat and Will pushes it into the sea. After a while in silence I notice my feet are getting wet. I look down and see water inside the boat. Appearantly Evanlyn saw too.
"Will there's water in the boat!" She says. Great, scream that'll blow our cover.
"Start bailing, quickly!" I tell her. I do the same, but soon notice it's not really useful.
"Will it's no use." I tell him, panic rising. I stand up on the edge of the boat to escape the water.
"May, get back in the boat." Will says. "You're going to capsize the boat." I close my eyes and feel the natural rush of shifting. Will had turned around and is rowing back to the shore. I'm turning my head in every direction, desperatly searching for a way out. About three metres in front of the shore, the boat sinks. I'm trying to swim, but as a fox that isn't easy. Two arms wrap around me and lift me up a little. I stop moving and look up to see it's Will. He gives me a half hearted smile and I lower my head. I let panic take over me. He puts me down once we're ashore.
"Trying to kill ourselves, are we?" A loud voice says. I look up and see Erak standing there. "Jarl Erak …" Will begins, then stops. There is nothing to say. Erak is turning a small object over in his hands. He tosses it to Will.
"Maybe you forgot this?" he says, his voice ominous. "It's what we simple sailors call a bung. It stops water coming into the boat. Usually it's a good idea to make sure it's in place." a massive hand grabs the front of Will's shirt and he is hauled off his feet, his face centimetres from Erak's angry features.
"Don't ever take me for a fool, boy!" the Skandian snarles at him. "You try anything like this again and I'll flog the skin off you!" He turns to include Evanlyn in the threat. "Both of you!" I can practically see the gears turning in Eraks head.
"Weren't there three of you?" He asked. "Where is the other girl." He demands. He only now notices the small fox half in the shadows. aka, me.
"Impossible." Erak mutters. I close my eyes and shift again, slowly rising to my feet.
"Please don't kill me." I say in a very quiet voice.
"Kill you? Why would I kill you. You have a gift only those of royal blood have. Only some of the Jarls have it. We're not called sea wolves for nothing." Within a few seconds, a giant white wolf is where Erak stood. I shift back and tilt my head to the side.
'I had no idea Jarl Erak.' I say. As a fox I can communicate with other animals. Comes in pretty handy sometimes.
'I had a suspicion about you lass, but I wasn't sure. Now, you must tell me. Are you from royal blood. If so, I hope for your sake you're not Auraluen.' He growls back.
'Royal blood? Not that I know of. Mother used to mutter some things about the queen of Mourne and family betrayal, but I never took her seriously. I am from Clonmel. Not Auraluen.' I tell him.
'Good. I believe you don't know much of shapeshifters, do you?' He asks. I let my head hang and mumble a 'no'. We both shift back and I shuffle a little with my feet.
"Let's go inside, there's much to say. You two can come too." Erak says.
Once inside the four of us sit at a table with some warm drinks.
"I think you have a lot of questions. Shoot." Erak says.
"Okay, first why am I a fox and you a wolf. My father and brother were wolves, but I never really knew why. Mother said it had something to do with personalities ot emotions." I say to him.
"That's half true. There are two sorts of shapeshifters. Those who have one form that depends of where you're from. And those who have multiple forms, and can call upon them using different emotions and thoughts. I believe you're from the second category. A fox in the first category must be of aslavan heritage. I doubt your parents were from there." He says with a small smile. "I'm not sure if you have it, but what you might have is a rare gift. Only a few can change into multiple forms. I know you didn't have any proper training, I can see it clearly. You're not exactly careful when you shift. You panicked and changed." I nod and look at my feet.
"My parents died before they could finish my training. I only learned to control it most of the time, only when I panic I can't really control it." I explain.
"I noticed. When we're back in Skandia, I'll find you someone who knows more. He can train you." Erak says with a nod.
"What about Evanlyn and Will?" I ask him, fearing the answer.
"They're still brought here as slaves, and so are you. You'll just be a house slave with training." Erak says, his voice stern. I nod again, and look at Will and Evanlyn.
"Now get some sleep." Erak commands. And that's exactly what we do.
3rd person in Auraluen.
The grey-clad rider hunches miserably inside his cloak as he rides slowly through the misting rain that sweeps across the fields. The hooves of his two horses, one a saddle horse and the other serving as a lightly laden pack horse, clop wetly in the puddles that had gathered in the undulations of the road.
Behind him as he reaches a crest, the towers and spires of Castle Araluen soar into the grey sky. But Halt doesn't look back at it. His eyes sre cast upon the road ahead.
He heard the two riders following him long before they caught up. Abelard's ears twitch at the sound of the drumming hoof beats and Halt knows his small horse has recognised the other two as Ranger horses. Still he doesn't look back. He knows who the two riders will be. And he knows why they are coming. He feels a small shaft of disappointment. He had hoped that, in the confusion and sorrow over his banishment, Crowley would have forgotten the one small item that Halt would now have to surrender.
Sighing and accepting the inevitable, he touches Abelard's reins lightly. The highly trained Ranger horse responds instantly, coming to a halt. Behind them, the pack horse does the same. The hoof beats grow closer and he's staring dully ahead, as Crowley and Gilan reined in beside him.
The four horses nicker gently in greeting to each other. The three men are a little more reserved. There is an unpleasant silence between them, finally broken by Crowley.
"Well, Halt, you got away early. We had to ride hard to catch up to you," he says, striving for a false heartiness that conceals his misery at the way events have turned out. Halt glances incuriously at the two other horses.
"I can see that," he replies calmly. He tries to ignore the anguish on Gilan's young face. He knows that his former apprentice would be suffering deeply because of his inexplicable actions and the loss of his own apprentice. He hardens his heart to shut the young Ranger's sorrow out.
Now Crowley loses his heartiness as well. His face grows serious and troubled.
"Halt, there is one thing you may have forgotten. I'm sorry to have to insist but …" He hesitates. Halt tries to play the scene out to the bitter end, assuming a puzzled expression.
"I have forty-eight hours to leave the Kingdom," he replies. "The time started from dawn this morning. I'll make it clear of the border by then. There's no need for you to escort me."
Crowley shakes his head. Out of the corner of his eye, Halt sees Gilan drop his gaze to the road. This is simply causing pain to all of them. He knows what Crowley has come for. He reaches inside his cloak to the silver chain around his throat.
"I had rather hoped you might forget," he says, trying to make his voice light. But there is a catch in his throat that belies the effort. Sadly, Crowley shakes his head.
"You know you can't keep the Oakleaf, Halt. As a person under banishment, you're automatically expelled from the Corps as well." Halt nods. He feels the sting of tears behind his eyes when he passes the small silver amulet to the Ranger Commandant. His vision blurs as he sees it coiled in Crowley's palm. Such a small piece of bright metal, and yet it means so much to him. He has worn the Oakleaf, with the intense pride that all Rangers feel, for the greater part of his life. And now, it's no longer his.
"I'm sorry, Halt," Crowley says miserably. Halt lifts one shoulder in a shrug.
"It's a small matter," he says. Again, a silence falls between them. Crowley's eyes look into his, trying to penetrate the veil that Halt holds in place there. A veil of uncaring, unfeeling acceptance of the situation. It's a shame, but it is a superbly maintained one. Finally the Commandant leans towards him in the saddle, gripping Halt's forearm tightly.
"Why, Halt? Why did you do it?" he asks fiercely. Again, that infuriating shrug of the shoulders.
"too much brandy spirit. You know I could never hold my liquor, Crowley." He actually manages a smile at that. It feels ghastly on his face, like a death's head grin. Crowley releases his arm and sits back, shaking his head in disappointment.
"Godspeed, Halt," he finally sats, in a voice that breaks with emotion. Then, with an uncharacteristically rough jerk of his reins, Crowley wheels his horse's head and gallops away, back along the road to Castle Araluen.
Halt watches him go, the mottled Ranger cloak soon almost lost in the misting rain. Then he turns to his former apprentice. He smiles sadly, and this time the smile and the sadness are genuine.
"Goodbye, Gilan. I'm glad you came to farewell me." the younger Ranger shakes his head defiantly.
"I'm not here to farewell you," he says roughly. "I'm coming with you." Halt raises one eyebrow. It is an expression so familiar to Gilan that it tears at his heart to see it.
"Into banishment?" Halt asked the younger man and again Gilan shakes his head.
"I know what you're up to," he replied. He jerks his head at the pack horse standing patiently behind Abelard. "You have Tug with you. You're going after Will, aren't you?"
For a moment, Halt is tempted to deny it. But the days of pretence are getting too much for him. He knows it'll be a relief, just this once, to admit his reasons.
"I have to, Gilan," he says quietly. "I promised him. And this was the only way I could be released from service."
"By getting yourself banished?" Gilan's voice rises in an incredulous note. "Did it occur to you that Duncan could have had you executed?"
Halt shrugs. But this time, it isn't a mocking gesture. This time it's simply a gesture of resignation.
"I didn't think he would. I had to take the chance." Gilan shakes his head sadly.
"Well, banished or not," he says, "I'm coming with you."
Halt looks away then. He takes a deep breath, lets it out. He is tempted, he had to admit. He's heading for a long, hard, dangerous road where Gilan's company would be welcome and his sword might as well be useful. But there is another call upon Gilan's service and Halt, already burdened by the knowledge that he has betrayed his own duty, couldn't allow the younger man to do the same.
"Gilan, you can't," he says simply. Gilan draws breath to reply and he holds up a hand to stop him. "Look, I asked for a release so that I could go after Will," halt says, "and they told me I was needed here." He pauses and Gilan nods his understanding.
"Well, I judge that need to be less. But it's my judgement only and I could be wrong. This situation with Foldar is dangerous, very dangerous. And it needs to be nipped in the bud. He needs to be stalked and tracked down and ambushed. And frankly, I can't think of a Ranger more suited to that job than you."
"Other than yourself," Gilan counters and Halt acknowledges the fact with a slight inclination of his head. It isn't ego talking. It's an honest assessment of the truth.
"That may be true," he says. "But it bears out my point. If we both go missing, Crowley will have to find someone else to do the job."
"I don't care," Gilan replies stubbornly, twisting the reins in his hand into a tight knot, then releasing them again. Halt smiles gently at him.
"I do, Gilan. I know how it feels to break the faith like this. It's a deep, bitter hurt, believe me. And I won't allow you to inflict it on yourself."
"But Halt," Gilan says miserably and the grizzled, smaller man could see that tears aren't far from his eyes, "I was responsible for leaving Will and May. I deserted them in Celtica! If I had stayed with them, they'd never have been captured by the Skandians!" Halt shakes his head. His voice is gentler now as he consols the young man.
"You can't blame yourself for that," he tells him. "What you did at the time was right. Blame me, rather, for recruiting a boy with the honour and courage to act as he did. And for training him so that there would never be any doubt that he would act that way."
He pauses, to see if his words are having any effect. Gilan is wavering, he knows. Halt adds the final touch.
"Don't you see, Gilan, it's because I know that you are here that I can desert my post like this. Because I know you can cover for me. But if you refuse to do so, I can't go myself." And at that, Gilan's shoulders slump in submission. His eyes fall once more and he muttered throatily, "All right, Halt. But find her. Find him and bring her back, banished or not."
Halt smiles at him and leant across to grip his shoulder. He ignores the fact he's only speaking of her, which can only mean May. Halt knows how much Gilan feels for her.
"It's only a year," he says. "We'll be back before you know it. Goodbye, Gilan."
"Godspeed, Halt," the Ranger says in a breaking voice. "When you find May… Tell her I..." Halt cuts Gilan off by raising a hand.
"I will Gilan, I will." Gilan's vision is obscured by tears and he hears the dull clopping of hooves on the wet road as Abelard and Tug pace out towards the coast.
The wind is in Halt's face when he rides on his way and it drives the light rain against him. It forms into small drops on his weather-beaten features, drops that roll down his cheeks.
Strangely, some of them taste like salt.
A/N There you have it. Some explaination about shape shifters and stuff. In exactly one week I will be 17! Woohoo An age you can't do anything with! Seriously it's 16 or 18, but nothing happens when you're 17.
See you next time!