lol it's been years since i came on this website but i decided! to post a lil sumn! i'm more active on ao3 (also catalystkrish) and if you want you can follow me on twitter hobisimpact
but yeah enjoy ig!
Cold.
The first thing Will felt. Familiar as his own heartbeat.
No. Wrong. This cold was different.
He opened his eyes. Light, daylight, bright like a surgeon's lamp. Pain.
His thoughts were coming in bursts, incoherent, crambled. They flashed across his consciousness like match flares. Brilliant, short-lived.
Something was wrong. The cold was wrong. The familiarity he felt was like that of a distant childhood memory; he knew this feeling, knew it like he knew breathing, but hadn't felt it in too long.
Opened his eyes again. The sunlight was more bearable this time, filtered by the leaves on tree branches above them. He squinted, blinked, groaned. The sound was amplified in the silence.
He was shivering. Cold. But this was a different cold, not like what had plagued him for the past few weeks. This wasn't mind-numbing, bone-deep, throbbing cold; this was shallow, easy. A cold from the outside rather than in.
He sat up. All the strength was gone from his limbs, but he managed it anyway. By the sun, it appeared to be a few hours past noon.
Warmth unfurled in his chest as soon as he thought it. To tell time by the sky was a Ranger's instinct. It was a relief to know he hadn't lost everything.
The scenery around him was strange, but he knew it all the same. By the bird and plant life, he had to be in Araluen still. Some part of the forest he hadn't seen before, but still home.
Get up, a little voice in his mind whispered. Get up, Will Treaty.
No.
Yes. The voice was insistent, implacable. You must. The others are looking for you. Get. Up.
Can't...
If you don't get up now, you will die.
His legs and arms seemed to move of their own accord, pushing him up. It was a messy effort, ungainly and definitely not Ranger style, but the fact that he was able to rise at all was a miracle.
Good, said the voice. Will registered dimly that it sounded a lot like Halt.
Now, figure out where you are.
How?
Shadows. Sun. Look for any paths; there aren't many uncharted parts of this forest. Move!
Will craned his neck to look at the sky. He'd been right; it was about three in the afternoon. Late fall. The trees that stretched their limbs above him were aspen and oak. They bore no signs of sap tapping or target practice, and as far as he could see, the brush around him was undisturbed by humans.
Something rustled by his feet and he looked down. A small stream bubbled over rocks and pebbles and the tips of his boots; his pants were soaked to the ankles, which explained the cold.
Am I really awake?
Yes, said the voice, a little softer now. You are.
Will... will I be okay?
The voice hesitated only a moment before answering. I can't tell for sure. Not many people have survived the sickness, but then again, you're not most people.
Will closed his eyes and breathed in slowly, counting each second. For a brief, brilliant moment, he allowed himself to hope.
That's enough of that, the voice said tersely. You still need to get out of this place. Get a move on.
"Alright," Will said aloud. "Alright. Um. First."
Which direction is Araluen?
Will turned and narrowed his eyes towards the horizon. Through the tree cover, he could make out the silhouette of a mountain range. The cloud cover was a little lower on it than if he'd been in Araluen.
"East," he said.
Good. The voice sounded grimly satisfied, the way Halt did whenever Will nailed a difficult target or answered a particular question right. Keep that in mind as you walk. Leave now, and you may reach before it gets dark.
The next few hours were a blur, conscious thought replaced by muscle memory and habit. Years traipsing through the woods silently had taught Will to place his feet delicately and purposefully, even if he didn't mean to. Even the physical and emotional strain of the sickness did little to shake this; his worst transgressions were a few rustling leaves and a whisper of pine needles.
By the time he broke the tree line, night had fallen. The castle stood a little ways away, solid and sturdy, lit warmly by torches along the walls. By habit, his eyes found the little tree he'd used to climb the castle walls that night all those years ago, before he'd become a Ranger's apprentice.
A smile bloomed on his face for the first time in weeks. He was home.