The Newcomer of Redwall
Book 1: The Stranger (or Heaven's End)

Simon Gilnom

Simon Gilnom had a strange set of eyes. It's not that they were a strange color (they were, a soft shade of brown that had slipped into an odd orange color during puberty), it was how Simon saw through them. He lay on his back in a valley ringed by trees, surrounded by grass that stood an inch above his shoulder, covering first one eye, then the other. An odd way of winking, someone walking by might have thought. His hand blocked sight from his left eye, and the blue sky above turned slightly green. His hands switched positions, now covering the right eye, and the sky's blue was added to and enhanced.

When he was a child, he would spend hours in his bed, soft music playing on his small CD/radio contraption, gazing up at the dripping white ceiling, covering each eye in turn and letting his mind wander. Questions, and their answers (sometimes) flooded into his mind, like 'Why does the paint drip like that? Did it dry that way? If so, the painters would have had to put down plastic or something to protect the furniture or floorboards....' or; 'Women, what is WRONG with them?' or even 'What was that guy saying in EOE that was so important it had to be ed-'

BOOM!

Simon was on his feet instantly, drawing his machete and holding it towards the direction of the sound. He was dismayed to find his fingertips trembling slightly, and he gripped the blade tighter.

(Coward)

"Shut up." He muttered from the corner of his mouth, eyes scanning the treeline for movement. The world silenced itself to him, his tunnel vision narrowing to individual points before he even knew his mistake.

(Fool)

"I said SHUT UP!" His eyes focused.... THERE. He charged forward, roaring, the blade raising above his head in one smooth motion, and he only had one second to wonder why the air in front of him was ripped like paper, frayed edges and all, before he charged full force into it.

(Slick, dumbass)

"SHUT UP!!!!"

Martin

Guh-plunk!

The sky above was clear, blue, with only four fluffy clouds in the whole visible expanse of it. Below, birds were reflected in the water as they passed overhead. A bee droned to itself, buzzing from flower to blooming flower, in no great hurry. Noontime had passed an hour ago, but to the young mouse, an hour was forever. He sighed heavily, tossing another rock into the abbey pond and watching the great carp surface to nibble at it.

Guh-plunk!

Martin laid back against the tree, turning his head and looking over at the sword of Redwall propped up next to him. He took the hilt of the blade in his paw, laid it out in his lap, and unsheathed it slowly. His fingertips trailed over the cool metal in silent wonder, his reflection flashing back at him, scarcely believing that it had been less than four seasons had passed since he had been captured and subsequently rescued. And it all come down to this: He was BOR- "Whatcha' doin', Martin?" "GAAAHHH!" The mouse fumbled at the sword's grip, scrabbling to his feet and baring the sword (still inside its sheath) at his attacker. Elmtail chuckled, dropping out of the tree. "You're a little jumpy today, Martin." Martin tried to catch his breath, putting the sword aside, glaring at his companion. "That was unfair, Elmtail." She giggled. "You look funny when you're thinking." She paused. "You look even funnier when you're scared. You didn't answer my question. What were you doing here all by yourself when we have to set up the tables for the feast tonight?" The mouse grumbled. "Feast, celebrate, feast again, that's all we DO!" He kicked up a small cloud of dirt. Elmtail tilted her head, reaching into her robes and withdrawing an apple, starting to bite at it. "So? It's better than the alternative. Would you like another Slagar to visit us?" Martin gave an involuntary shiver. "No! I still have nightmares. What if....what if something amazing and wonderful happened to us?" Elmtail settled against a tree, cocking an eyebrow. "Like?"

Martin frowned. "Like....I don't know, something huge, something that would change all of us forever." They both gazed over the water silently, Elmtail chewing her apple. She tossed the core at him. "C'mon, silly, we need to get to work." He grabbed the core from the air, looked at it, shrugged, and tossed it over his shoulder into the lake. The carp surfaced again, nibbled at the core, found it edible, and grabbed it, taking it to the bottom of the lake.

Matthias

"What do you think?"

Matthias blinked, glancing down at Cornflower. "Think? Of what?"

She smiled up at him, the love she held for him not diminishing in her increasing age. "How quiet and peaceful it is now."

Matthias smiled, standing up and stretching, offering his paw to his wife to help her up. He chuckled softly. "I'm actually quite fond of it, but I saw Martin today. The poor boy is going out of his mind with boredom."

Cornflower smiled, more of a smirk, taking her husband's paw and hoisting herself up, out from the comfortably soft grass under the shady tree. "Poor boy my footpaw. Stealing food from the kitchens, putting wet moss in our sandals, tainting our drinks with lemon juice. And that Cheek is doing nothing but encouraging him!"

The two started walking down the dirt road, heading south towards the Abbey. He feigned a hurt voice. "But.... You fell in love with a mouse like that."

She giggled. "Yes, I did." She sighed, the nearly painful nostalgia clearly evident in her voice. "But that was ages ago...." She looked up at her husband, a slightly pained look adorning her face. "We're getting so old, love."

He nodded. "I know, I hate it, too. But there's nothing we can do about it. Besides, as much as I enjoyed growing up the first time, I'd prefer not to. I might get a different ending."

She leaned against him gently as they walked, a warm, comfortable weight.

BOOM!

One moment, Matthias was feeling the pain of old age, the next, he was feeling the pain of a dislocated shoulder, but, more importantly, NOT feeling his wife on his arm. He saw her body, laying sprawled unconscious about five lengths ahead of him. He whirled, drawing his dagger (for coring apples, of course, never to be used in combat, for what combat was there?), and his jaw dropped.

There, floating in front of him, was a tear. Like a cut of a dull knife through existence itself, its edges frayed and flapping in the solar wind. He could see INTO the rip, saw a different world, a bastardization of his own, waters black, forests dead, the air was thick and brown. The cut silently started to fold in on itself, healing like a wound in existence's skin.

Matthias turned, remembering Cornflower. He raced for her, skidding over the loose dust to be at her side, shaking her, feeling over her body to check for injuries. "Cornflower?! CORNFLOWER!?!"

Auma

Auma had her arms crossed over her chest, frowning down at the two otters. "No." She said firmly. They looked up at her with the widest, most innocent eyes they could muster, and asked again, "Pllllleeeeeeaaaaaaaasssee?" They asked in simultaneous, whining voices. Auma glared at the two. "Why should I let you two attend the feast when you were trying to sneak out of the Abbey's walls?" They looked at each other, then up at Auma, the taller one, the sister, the eldest, Kayla, stepped forward and a bit in front of her brother. "There is nothing to be afraid of out there. I know. I have heard from Martin that his father and grandfather killed so many vermin that none dare come near the forest, much less the ABBEY. Anyway, we were just going to pick some berries before the feast." She stopped for a moment, and then tried another angle. "Haven't YOU ever been hungry before a feast?"

Auma smiled a bit, kneeling to put her paws on the ottermaid's shoulders. "Then we can go together." She glanced over at the worn out area of grass where the benches and tables were set up. "I haven't been to many of these feasts, but I DO know how hungry one can get thinking about all that food. We'll just have a few pawfuls and come right back." The otters looked at each other and smiled broadly, their eyes twinkling. Auma, always pleased at the happiness of the young ones, opened the north door, thinking to herself how she had felt like an older sister to the younger Abbeydwellers ever since the feast celebrating their return, when they had bunched up around her, the concept of another, younger female badger them. In fact, she-

"AUMA!!!"

She snapped from her thoughts, stepping in-between the noise and the young otters unconsciously before realizing how familiar the voice was. She looked to her left and saw Matthias staggering towards her.

"AUMA!!!"

She raced over to the mouse, gathering up the limp form of Cornflower in her arms. She gaped at the bleeding mice, trying to form words but finding that her vocal chords had suddenly stopped working. All she could do was mouth "What? What?" Matthias pointed to the road, not even able to form a sentence, making sounds like

"Tah.....Tear.....Suh.....Someth-...."

He dropped to his knees, grabbing at his shoulder briefly before going limp, shock totally controlling him. Auma turned when she heard soft whimpering behind her. Kayla and her younger brother looked from Auma to the unconscious Cornflower to the wide-eyed and immobile Matthias. "Wh-what h-happened to them?" The ottermaid asked, stuttering in fear.

Auma swallowed several times, then uttered three hoarse, painful grunts. "Get. The. Abbot." They stared at her blankly. She shuddered violently, closed her eyes, and barked, "NOW!"

The two otters nodded in fear, turning and bounding back to the Abbey. The huge badger was left to look down at the mice, the wise and noble friends of her Father's, reduced to limp bags of fur and meat. A huge sense of futility washed over her, and she stood there, trembling.

Simon Gilnom

Simon grunted as he awoke. He frowned, thinking that he had had a very strange dream, but he could not remember falling asleep against a tree. Nor did he remember putting his backpack on the other side of the road.

....Road?....

He was on his feet in an instant, looking around for any potential threat. "Shit," he muttered, wondering what happened.

"Come on, you know exactly what happened."

He growled low in his throat, more animal than most people could muster. He turned and confronted Ross. "That," He stated, "Was an impossibility. We both know it." Ross smirked, leaning back against the tree. "There are a lot of things you call impossible that you know full well that happened. Like the hou-" But Simon glared the remaining words from his mouth. "Don't you DARE finish that sentence." Ross raised his hands defensively. "Fine." He pointed at Simon. "You're bleeding." Simon blinked, followed Ross's pointing with his gaze, and saw that he was indicating his cheek. He put his fingers to it, and they came back with a streak of blood. He frowned, walking over to his backpack and taking out an old, tattered towel and scrubbing it at his face. He saw that there were flakes of dried blood covering the fabric. "This blood is almost dry. How long was I out?" Ross shrugged. "How the hell should I know?"

Simon pulled the pack up and onto his shoulders. "Weren't you awake?" Ross snorted. "Awake? How could I have been awake if you weren't?" Simon eyed him. "You've done it before; you tell me."

They both turned to the south simultaneously. "Someone's coming," they murmured. Simon glanced around, running over beside the tree and grabbing his machete from the ground. Ross watched him in silent amusement, humming softly to himself. "Dum-de-dum. You do realize that anything over the size of a medium dog could get past that." Simon ducked into the underbrush next to the path. Ross rolled his eyes. "Wuss."

Simon didn't take his eyes off the road.

"Shut up."