| Gwen And Now - Chapter 2
For the better part of an hour, Gwen sat talking with Nathel, reminiscing about that day. It was good to have her mind on things other than the Charr for once. She would never forgive them for what they had done to her, but she had learned to move on, to focus on the future rather than the past. On the now rather than on what might have been. And on what might still be.
Beside her, Nathel sat holding the flute, idly turning it over in his hands. Though only twenty-four, he seemed older somehow, more careworn and tired than Gwen remembered. He had spent years fighting and traveling, she knew, pulled from one battle to the next without even knowing why half the time. And while he had achieved his dream and become a hero, defeating the Lich King and the Titans as well as the Destroyers and who knew what else, his victories had not left him unscathed. His face and arms bore the faint lines of scars Gwen knew had not been there when she had known him before, and his shoulders were bent with the weight of a burden he had never spoken of but which she knew he carried. She saw it every time he looked at her.
Tall, lean, his face covered with a light beard that hadn't been there in his youth, he sat next to her now, wrapped in an old traveling cloak to keep out the chill. Gwen pulled her own cloak closer around her shoulders, her breath steaming in the air. She hadn't recognized Nathel at first, those many weeks ago when he had first come here. So many of her memories had been destroyed and ripped apart by Daghar's torments over the years, flayed from her mind like the skin had been torn from her back under the touch of that demon's whip. It had only been after her escape that some pieces of those memories had finally begun to come back.
Gwen had meant to talk to him sooner, to see what was wrong and help him if she could, but until lately her duties in the Vanguard had kept her from spending much time with him. She thought about him often, more so now than before they had beaten the Destroyers, and her heart went out to him. He had been everything to her when she had known him before, and to see him now so worn down, so wearied by the years of constant struggle and loss, pained her deeply.
She thought of the time they'd spent together, so many years ago, how young they both had been. Hers hadn't been the only innocence lost in the Searing, she realized. Another reason to hate so many of the Charr. They had taken his home, his family and his world just as they had taken hers. Gwen's fingers clenched into a fist, the old familiar anger starting to rise up again. But not for herself this time. Not for what they had done to her. But rather, for what they had done to him.
Relaxing her fingers, she forced herself to let it go. For now. It was the past and could not be changed. But his future still could be. Gwen wanted him to stay, wanted it more than she cared to admit, but now she was starting to understand why he might not. So she sat with him, remembered with him, and enjoyed the time they spent together.
••••••••••
Gwen held the flower in her hand, waiting patiently while Nathel talked with the merchant just outside Ashford. She couldn't see what her new friend was buying, but it was okay. There were plenty of neat things to look at, from the merchant's colorful wagon full of goods to the bees buzzing through the tall grass. There was an abbey just down the hill a little further down the road, and Mr. Pitney's fields stretched out in front of it in long, lumpy rows of earth.
A taller hill rose up sharply nearby, leaving Gwen in a nice patch of shade as she wandered away from the road a little to get a closer look at the abbey. She and Mommy went there for services once a week, and there was a nice monk there named Mhenlo who did the teaching. Maybe she and Nathel could go see him later, after they took care of whatever it was that Devona—
Her thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind as an arm abruptly reached around the edge of the tall hill and seized her wrist. She shrieked. “Nathel! Help me! Nath—“
Another arm wrapped around her, the hand closing over her mouth, and then she was being carried across the side of the lower hill. Gwen kicked at her captor and bit at the hand, but she was unable to escape. She was aware of more people now, all in black and red. Bandits? She didn't know. She was taken around to a small dell sheltered by the taller hill and stacked high with crates and boxes. A fire burned in the middle, with a bunch of mean-looking men and women gathered around it. Gwen shivered.
One of them, a man taller than the rest, pointed to a spot beyond the fire. “Put her down over there. Maybe the high and mighties in the city'll be more willing to negotiate now.”
“A hostage, Alain?” another bandit asked.
“Why not? It'll make Adelbern listen. And if he doesn't, he'll have her blood on his hands.”
Suddenly there was a high whine as something flew like lightning through the air, and Gwen looked up. One of the bandits fell over, an arrow through his neck. Two more went down before they even knew what was happening. The rest scrambled out of the dell except for Alain, who seized Gwen from the man holding her and dragged her up toward a path running through the hills away from the fields.
Gwen saw a familiar figure running toward her. “Nathel! Up here! Help!”
“Gwen! Hold on!” he called.
How could he get to her through so many bandits? Gwen worried for him even as she struggled to escape Alain's grasp. His grip was like iron, though, and then there was a knife in his hand. Gwen saw two soldiers scrambling toward the dell from the abbey, but they were still far away. Would they be in time? Nathel was filling bandits with arrows left and right, but he would run out sooner or later. And there were still three or four of the bad people left.
Suddenly she felt Alain stiffen, and she looked over to see something bright and shiny sticking out of his chest. His grip on her relaxed, and Gwen turned to see a woman standing behind him, sword in hand. She must have been running down the very path he had been trying to use to escape. Blond and in the armor of a soldier of Ascalon, she withdrew her sword, and Alain fell to the ground and stopped moving.
“Stay here,” the woman told her. Gwen did so.
Before long, it was over, the bandits all dead or scattered. Between the woman's sword and Nathel's arrows, few of them had survived. By the time the soldiers from the abbey finally arrived, there was nothing for them to do but take away the bodies.
Gwen ran over to Nathel's side. “Are you okay? I was so scared!”
“I'm fine,” he assured her. “What about you?”
“I'm okay, Nathel. I knew you'd come and save me. I just knew it!”
He knelt and checked her face and arms just to be sure. “I'm sorry about all this. I knew there were bandits around, but I didn't think they'd go so close to the road.”
“They had been getting more aggressive lately,” the blond woman said, wiping her sword on the bandit leader's cloak. “It's no fault of yours.”
“Thanks for helping me out, by the way. Who are you?”
She sheathed her sword. “Farrah Cappo. Grazden sent me to deal with Alain and his gang. It looks like you did most of the work, though. Impressive.”
With that, she bowed and walked back up the path. A real warrior! A lady warrior, too. It was exactly what Gwen wanted to be when she grew up. Or maybe a mesmer. She had always liked their outfits and hoped that she could be regal and beautiful like Lady Althea someday.
Gwen was about to follow Nathel out of the dell when she saw something amidst the boxes and crates behind the fire. “Look! I think the bandits stole something.”
“Yeah, you're right,” Nathel looked at the chest she was pointing at. “Good eye, Gwen.”
She beamed. “Thanks!”
“Look here, it's got the royal seal on it. Let's take this with us to Devona. We're heading over there anyway, and she'll definitely want to know about this.”
“Yeah!” Gwen said.
Shouldering his bow, Nathel picked up the chest, and Gwen followed him out of the dell and back toward the road. Soon enough they were heading down the other side of the hill into Ashford. It was a small place, but to Gwen it was home, and she loved it. She and Nathel were halfway down the hill when he stopped, put the chest down and took something out of his pack. “I almost forgot about it in all the excitement, but I got you something from the merchant. I hope you like it.”
It was a flute.
Gwen squealed in delight, took it, and whirled around. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love it, Nathel! Want to hear me play?”
“Sure,” he grinned.
She did so, tucking her flower into her belt, putting the flute to her lips and playing a cheerful little melody her mother had taught her. She added to it, experimenting with a bunch of different notes here and there. It was a short piece, but she loved it. And Nathel liked it too, smiling as he listened. He picked the chest up and started walking again. Gwen followed him, playing her flute and thinking about how wonderful he was, so brave and tall and handsome with his long brown hair and gentle eyes. If only she were older.
Then they finally met with Devona. She was a warrior, too, blond like Farrah. But she had a big hammer instead of a sword. She and Nathel talked for a bit, then a guard from the nearby bridge came running up saying there were grawl coming down the road on the other side. Gwen stayed in the village while Nathel and Devona rushed out to fight them, and soon enough, the monsters were beaten and her friends were back. Devona congratulated her on finding the stolen chest and said she'd mention it to Prince Rurik himself! Devona knew the prince! Gwen wished she could meet him someday.
While they were in Ashford, she and Nathel helped Farmer Dirk get his hogs back into their pen—it was fun chasing after them, though they often had a mind of their own. But in the end it was done. Then Mr. Pitney came up and asked Nathel to find him some kind of big egg, Gwen wasn't sure what kind, to use to lure out a big queen worm that was ruining his fields. And Miss Alison convinced him to get a bear hide so she could make a big cloak for a friend of hers, while Miss Chantalle wanted him to take a horn to a ranger named Aidan. Gwen had heard of him, he was a hero, like Devona. And Devona had an important job for Nathel as well, going to Green Hills County to talk to some important people about the king.
“We've got a lot of stuff to do, don't we?” Gwen asked.
Nathel nodded. “Yeah, but I don't mind. I like helping people. I want to be a hero, after all.”
“You're a hero to me, Nathel.”
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