Hunted

[Saruna]

Well. That was certainly not the reaction she'd expected. She attended to her baked goods, unwilling to let them burn despite the place in her heart that ached with the lad in her chair, atop his cut clothes and her newly stained blankets. He was pitiful. He was young. He was hurting. She thought of her own sons, much the way she'd thought of her daughters around Derin. She put the scones on the table to cool, and plucked a long strip of linen from the neat pile.

"There now. What's this, young buck like yourself? You'll be safe with me." She moved into his personal space like she would for any crying child and blotted at his face. Dirt smeared, and the priority of giving him a bath ratcheted up a few notches.

[Ran Azshmatha]

Ran's heart stirred at Saruna's kind gesture. It wasn't often that Ran encountered such kindness from others since he had left home, and the man sighed with a kind of relief and quiet joy. Yet, such was the burden on his heart that the alchemist could not bring himself to stop quite yet.

His tears eventually ran dry, but Saruna had reminded Ran of the losses he had endured, especially of his uncle Oruhan; briefly and without meaning to--with great guilt--Ran pictured how this kind old lady would look as a bandit stuck his hachet in the back of her head, fear and shock replacing her kind expression as rivulets of crimson blood poured down her face, and imagining this was like a great and endless hole had replaced his heart.

A deep, empty sadness entered into his soul and poured out of his eyes. Ran reached out with one hand, gently, and touched it against the back of Saruna's hand which was gingerly dabbing at his face.

"I am sorry to burden you so," Ran coughed to clear his throat, clogged the way a crying man's throat tended to, and with the same hollow look in his eyes continued, "but I feel that I must. I feel something greater than me taking hold of me now, and it must come out or I fear what will happen to me. For weeks now, I have been hunted like an animal, by men who were more animal than man. I watched-"

Tears stung the man's eyes again, and he continued quieter than before.

"I watched them slaughter my only kin; watched others who were of my clan--those who shared with me my exile from home worlds away--scatter to the winds and fall to the earth. We had been captives, but even our captors fell to unthinking murder."

By now Ran's speech had grown thick with an accent brought out by raw emotions. He thought back to Eikos, the soldier who had given up his life. Thinking now, the alchemist wasn't even sure that the Eyropan soldier had necessarily sacrificed his life for Ran' sake. Perhaps the old soldier had felt that he had endured enough. After a moment of reflection, the man continued:

"I am... intensely grateful that I live now, that I sit here and speak with you. Yet my heart weighs heavy and it grows heavier by the moment," and Ran stopped because he could not continue any longer. He looked at Saruna, studied her face, toyed momentarily with shame but realized there was no need. He had simply said that which needed to be said, though he wasn't sure if it needed to be heard.

"I'm sorry. It is not your burden, but I simply could not hold it inside."

Ran tried his best to smile apologetically at Saruna, and managed half of one.

[Saruna]

Saruna froze when he touched her, and stayed still as he spoke. There was a depth of grief and anguish; flat out horrid experiences that went parallel, and deeper than what she'd ever experienced herself. The base emotion she understood, and the need to comfort clawed at her throat in sympathy as he struggled through an accounting that he really didn't need to give her. But, maybe he did. The longing for nonviolent human contact, for someone to count on, trust, and fill up the emptiness inside struck a kindred chord within her. She listened.

"You will be safe with me." She repeated, her own throat thick with emotion that she did not consciously give to him. It was no longer a choice to be made. Her loneliness damned her, as it always would. As for safety, it was not physical safety she assured him of: she took that for granted within the sanctum of her home. She offered him an oasis for his battered mental state, a place he could recover and heal from the awful things he'd witnessed.

She felt awkward acting so motherly to yet another stranger, as the realization of her own response tangled up within her in confusion. She would not deny him the succor of asylum, and she could not close herself up to him, but it did not stop her from questioning herself. "You are in need of a bath." She said, standing. When had she knelt beside him? "I shall have to fetch water. You should eat something, you must be famished."

[Ran Azshmatha]

Safe, Ran mused. A part of him screamed that there was nowhere that was safe, the part of him which remembered violence and loss; yet a part of him reminded the alchemist that the world, cruel as it was, had never been without some measure of goodness. Had he not learned that through his travels? The alchemist chuckled lightly to himself, a laughter which carried relief. His story it seemed, was increasingly one of supreme irony. Had it not been for the hardening which Ran's prolonged exile had forced on him, the alchemist wasn't sure he would have been able to endure the harshness of the past weeks as he had.

"Yes, Saruna, I am quite hungry," Ran said, feeling close to her. He inspected himself and found that as Saruna had complained quite often, he was dirty. "And it seems a bath would do me well."

Ran brought his hands to the braids hanging from his head. Many had become undone, some partially and others completely, and the alchemist's hands began to expertly undo the braids until in a remarkably short period of time, his dull, sandy yellow hair fell in loose waves to his shoulders.

[Saruna]

Saruna sighed and occupied Ran with a plateful of scones and bread while she peeled back the bandage to check on the wound. She didn't like the way the red was fanning out beneath the skin, but she didn't say anything. There'd be time for that later, after the bath.

Only after her hair had been neatly wrapped into a bun and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders did she collect her two water buckets and the balancing rod that stretched between them. She offered Ran one last tight reassuring smile before she walked out.

Changers, she ached. She wanted nothing more than to sit before the fire with a cup of water and a platter of food at either hand, and a stool beneath her feet. The day outside wasn't cold, but it wasn't warm either and her bones chafed at every step she took. She made it to the well and stared down, awash in prickly horror at the thought of drawing water with her joints screaming for her to sit down. Tasks needed completing, and she'd learned as a mother that if you didn't get them done, no one else would.

She cast the well's bucket down, and once the rope pulled taught she put her hands on the handle to raise it and started to turn.

[Rekkan]

Shim.

Five years have passed since the start of Rekkan's journey. For five years, he has ventured through the corners of Eyropa to gather information on plants and creatures his father had left out on his trip. On the way, the young druid helped lift curses and cure illnesses. His talents as a druid and a creature of Nature grew, being granted the gift of communicating with other animals through the language of the body. But more came with the evolution of his abilities.
In Trelham, the young man confronted his Inner Beast for the first time, a terrible creature that originates from the rage that a druid possesses and is fueled by one's dark memories and feelings. While he managed to come out on top in every confrontation until the present day, he has never lowered his guard for an instant. As a druid, he knows every care is little, that Nature is always testing him. In Shim, it would be no different.

Never a fan of crowded places, Rekkan traveled past the city of Marn and crossed the Ofriyu Mar river. His need to stop now was quite simple. His purse was running low and he needed work. It was possible that someone in Shim was affected by some kind of illness or injury, maybe even a curse. The young druid looked around the desolate town and sighed. This place was a bit different from the other villages he visited in the past. However, he noticed an old woman using a well, and it seemed she needed a hand or two with it.

"Aren't you a little old to be stressing your body, old woman?", asked the druid, walking towards the woman's direction. "I can help you carry that water."

His right arm stretched forward in a simple sign. He was offering assistance. Past the lifted cloak, one could observe the silver dagger and the rusty iron short sword that were kept at his waist, each at opposite sides of it. He was also carrying a bag that seemed quite heavy and full of things.

[Saruna]

As with any woman, Saruna did not appreciate being called 'old.' Even in her mind, she treated the word with the distaste she'd shown Ran's clothing, though she could not deny the aging that her body suffered. Certainly she couldn't refuse assistance. She was sweating, struggling, gasping with the effort to haul the water up via the pulley system. Stress and nights of uneasy sleep had done their work upon her. Her body was giving her a big ol' fat NO, and despite her demands otherwise it was locking itself down.

"I would be grateful." She gasped out, one painful word at a time. The bucket wobbled on the rope as she waited for Rekkan to empty its contents into one of her own. "If you could fill the other?"

[Rekkan]

The young druid took his time to fill the bucket and then pull it back up. He poured the fresh water from one bucket to the other, listening to the vivid sound of cascading water. It was always a soothing sensation, something that only two of the elements of Nature could provide. One was water itself, as mentioned. In its purity, it provided crystal clarity, truthfulness and honesty. The other was the wind, a festival of feelings, both good and bad, aiming to serve order and instill chaos.

"I'll take both buckets, old woman. You seem like you're about to faint, and I don't want to be burdened with the task of carrying your body. They might as well call me a kidnapper or worse.", said the young druid, looking at the aspect of the blue-eyed female. "I'll escort you to your house. Go ahead."

[Saruna]

Saruna sighed again, thinking of her promised meeting with Cal. He was the only one who might care about her whereabouts and wellbeing, and only for the promise of a fattened purse. Would he be waiting for her? She couldn't very well meet him now, not with her unexpected guest. Maybe she could get a message out to him. . .

She simply accepted the help for what it was, and trudged back to her home. This wouldn't be the last trip, of course. She would need two more to fill up her barrel, and possibly more than that depending on how much water she'd need for Ran and his bath. Having someone fetch it for her would make her day that much brighter. That idea could wait until after she thanked the young man for his current assistance.

They reached her door, and she opened it for him. "I cannot thank you enough for your help. My joints have just ached so much recently. If you could be a dear and empty them into the barrel please?"

[Rekkan]

Rekkan accompanied the woman past the small streets and towards her home. The village was nothing special, and it seemed like the druid would have a hard time finding a job. It was all considering the looks of the people. Even though they were tired, even exhausted, there was little he could do about that. His services, while versatile, could not reach and alter the physical condition of someone affected by age. It was the task of magic, and magic was not what the young man was able to perform. The best word to describe his talent was "natural energy", the ability to use the powers of Nature. Whatever came from the astral plane during the Changer War was nothing of his concern.

Rekkan took the liberty of entering the cozy house and made his way to the barrel, emptying both buckets in it. He observed the injured man and noticed how the bandages were worn out and full of blood, both dry and wet. "That looks nasty. Do you need help with that, old lady?", asked Rekkan, pointing at the stranger in front of him. His clothing seemed rather traditional from the region of southern Eyropa, with all the accessories combined and his own skin. The man made him remember Madeleine and her letter, which was due to Shim that day or the next. It also reminded him of the man who helped him find a safe haven for the young girl and her grandmother.

Some kind of injury was getting worse. The stranger probably didn't feel it because there was dead tissue. Rekkan felt like he should help, to at least repay the debt he had with this man's comrade. While coin was not something he should ask for this task, he had necessities. If the woman wanted the assistance, the young druid would address payment as he treated the wounded, hiding the fact that it was not truly required in this situation. One had to make a living, one had to be selfish in this world.

[Ran Azshmatha]

Ran waited quietly for Saruna to return. He felt tired, so he simply sat. He mentally probed his body, feeling out the state that it was in. There was a little bit of pain coming from his wound, but not a lot which worried him. Drowsiness left the alchemist temporarily when Saruna came in with a stranger, a man near his age. He carried buckets of water for the old woman, so perhaps he was someone she knew. That theory was debunked when the man asked Saruna if she needed help with Ran--a gesture which, whether intentionally or not, snubbed the alchemist.

Ran's hurt pride caused an immediate rise of anger at the slight insult, but he held his tongue. He did not feel nearly strong enough for such a confrontation. Instead, Ran spoke his words with care, as was his usual custom for dealing with strangers.

"I am capable of asking for help on my own."

The alchemist took a closer look at the man. Dark brown hair, brown eyes, not a man of this region, but not an uncommon breed in these parts. There was an air about the man and Ran knew that he was well-worn with travel; so was the alchemist, and could tell thus from small observations. He looked at the man who Saruna had brought in and addressing him directly, asked, "who are you? And what do you know of healing wounds?"

[Saruna]

Saruna adjusted her shawl on her shoulders and sent Ran a scolding look. "Before any healing of wounds takes place he must be bathed. There is no use in cleaning wounds only for the rest of the body to be filthy." It did not seem Ran had eaten anything from the quick glance Saruna took at the platter. She would have to remedy that. "I will need at least two more trips to the well to fill my washing-tub, if you will be kind enough to assist me again. After that, we will talk about his wounds."

She glanced again towards Ran. We need to talk privately, the look said. Now that someone was offering healing aid, perhaps she would not wait to tell Ran about the red that was starting to streak away from his spear wound. It was still early. It wasn't too late yet.

[Rekkan]

Things seemed to be a little agitated. Rekkan sighed and grabbed the two buckets, walking out of the house. He stopped at the entrance and looked back at the southerner. "I am a simple herbalist from the west.", answered the druid with a somewhat jesting tone. "My name is Rekkan. As far as healing is concerned, I had my share of injuries, among other more complicated experiences."

The woman asked for more assistance, help which Rekkan would gladly lend. "You should start his bath as I fetch your water. It becomes late if we wait too long.", stated Rekkan. He started to walk back to the well, thinking about the letter that Madeleine sent. It was probably there already, waiting for the druid to pick it up. Thinking about full grown Madeleine, who was now eighteen, and all those people back in Ellen's new farm reassured him. Even if he was far from them, he was not alone.

[Ran Azshmatha]

Ran caught Saruna's look, and nodded his acknowledgement of the herbalist's greetings. A simple herbalist--well, it was Ran's experience that taught him that the well-traveled were rarely simple. The herbalist left before Ran could question him any further. His assessment of the herbalist and more formal introductions would have to wait. Ran turned his attentions to Saruna and smiled at her weakly.

"You mentioned a bath, Saruna."

The alchemist felt the pull of sleep as his body gently reminded him of his hunger. Ran was feeling quite comfortable, and he had little appetite, but he knew he had to eat. With a small sigh, Ran reached to grab something from the platter. The blanket slid off Ran's shoulder to his waist as he bent his body slightly toward the food. He grimaced from the slight jolt of pain, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the bags of bishani he had dropped were left where they were.

Taking a bite out of the pastry he held in his hand, the alchemist questioned Saruna with his eyes and then with his words.

"You do not want these?"

[Saruna]

Two buckets of water did not a bath make. It would be enough to heat them. Saruna righted the old metal tub next to the water barrel, and then grabbed her largest pot. Soon enough, relatively speaking, she had the pot over the fire filled with water. By the time it got to the boiling stage Rekkar would be back, and then there should be enough water for cleaning Ran.

"I would not take the money of someone in need." Saruna said stiffly. Before he could argue, or think to argue, she kept talking. "Your wound is infected. I was going to wait until after you were bathed but. . .it is my hope the herbalist will be able to draw it out. I haven't the skill."

Always, always it seemed she lacked the one thing most useful. She hated being helpless, vulnerable. Someone always had to rescue her. She was tired of it.