Peacebringer

Chapter Five - The Changeling

    About halfway home, Asha finally felt safe enough to remove the stone from her pocket.  She sat on a large rock at a corner of the riverbed and examined it. Now that she looked at it more closely, it was a very warm black.  It was softer than the color of iron or coal, and it somehow still felt warm to the touch, like it had been sitting in the sun on a hot day.  

    She noticed that on the back there was a strange symbol, a carved knot with three ovals around it.  Her thumb fit perfectly into one of the ovals, as they were pressed into the stone like thumbprints would be into a piece of soft clay.  She started tracing around the carved knot with her pointer finger.

    She was so intently staring at the small black rock that she didn’t notice the shift in the wind.  Clouds started to lightly cover the sun, and there was a cool breeze coming from the direction of the sea.  It smelled slightly of salt, and the trees trembled in the moving air.

    She also didn’t notice a ranger coming down the path.  

    He stood on the stone bridge across the river, staring intently at Asha.  His long cloak billowed in the crisp wind, and his hand clutched a long, dark, wooden staff.  

    Each step forward brought up a cloud of dust around his thick, heavy boot.  Despite the wind, the ranger commanded an unnatural stillness from his surroundings.  People said that the rangers were between worlds, somewhere suspended between here and the afterlife.  More than a ghost, but less than a man. While this was all hearsay, just looking at a ranger would cause most people’s hair to stand on end.

    Asha finally noticed something was happening when the stone shone more dimly in the overcast.  She looked up and froze, her heart immediately pounding like a galloping horse.

    As the ranger approached, Asha knew she should run, but she felt like her feet had suddenly transformed into lead.  She couldn’t even stand, and remained glued to the rock. The stone was still in her upturned palm, in full view. She couldn’t hide it now.  

    And this is where my fantasy story ends, even in her fear, the over-dramatic thought crept in.  This is how I die, not even making it past the first few pages.

    The ranger’s heavy footsteps finally halted a foot in front of Asha.  She had never felt so small in her life.

    “You have something I seek.” The ranger’s voice sounded like a wagon rolling over gravel, heavy and grating.  

    Asha trembled.  She could feel tears creeping out of the corners of her eyes.  And then she said possibly the stupidest thing she had ever uttered in her life.  

    “You can’t have it.”  Her voice wavered, but her tone was firm.  She blinked back a tear that had stubbornly leaked out of her eye.

    “Do you even know what it is?” the ranger inquired.

    Asha stood up, still looking almost straight up to meet the ranger’s hooded face.  “I know it’s important, and I know I am not giving it to you.” Her knees felt like jelly.  Yep, I’m dead. She thought.  There’s no chance of survival now.

    The ranger laughed.  He chortled. He even giggled.  Asha’s mouth hung open in shock.  Soon, the ranger was doubled over in hilarity, his laughter echoing inside his hood.  

    “WHAT EXACTLY IS SO FUNNY?” Asha screamed, now angry instead of afraid.  

    “I’ve just never seen anyone stand up to a ranger before! You’ve got guts my friend!”

    Asha didn’t have words.  She was seething, her face turning red.  She dug her feet into the dirt and crossed her arms.  She knew that now would be the time to run, but stubbornness had completely taken over her sense of fear.  

HOW DARE HE! She thought.  Asha felt like a dragon, and she was sure that if she were able, smoke would be coming out of her nose and ears.

    “We could actually use your help with that fearlessness!” the ranger said, thumb and forefinger framing his jawline in thought.  “You’d be a great help to the resistance.”

    “What resistance?  You’re a RANGER.” Now confusion had taken over.  Why would a ranger be helping the resistance?

    “Oh yeah, forgot about that.”  the ranger said. “This’ll take a second.”

    The best way Asha could describe what happened to the ranger was that he melted.  His hooded cloak lightened from the dark black to a soft brown, his stature shortened.  The hood got shorter and shorter until it disappeared entirely, revealing a pale freckled face.  

    There was now a boy about Asha’s age standing in front of her.  He had spiked, strawberry blonde hair that seemed to grow like wild grass; all over the place.  He had striking bottle green eyes and freckles like Asha (although he had many more). His ears were also delicately pointed.  

    Asha felt her heart rate slow.  “Who are you?” she cocked her head in curiosity, although in her head she was back to thinking about how this was getting closer and closer to story book material.

    The boy ran his hand through his hair, adjusting it as though he was making sure that the hood had disappeared entirely.  Asha sensed a note of cockiness. He knew how impressive his shapeshifting trick was.

    “I’m Finn, Finn Ward.” he said, sticking out a hand.  “Welcome to the resistance.”