As the Arrow Flies

-chapter one-

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Gilan's day went sour the moment the damned thief tried to break a chair over his spine.

Before that, it had been going fine; better, even, than most days he could speak for. His most recent mission, a matter of treaty negotiations in Picta had been a long one; somehow, signing papers had evolved into a quest to round up a troublesome group of bandits raiding their way across the border, and before long, three weeks had turned into half a year. Being surrounded by strange landscapes, harsh, brogueish accents, unfamiliar faces, and living quarters that were nothing like his own had stirred up a rare feeling of homesickness in the Ranger, who'd grown to want nothing more than one night in his own bed. After five long months of being away from his fief, of being away from home, he'd finally been able to saddle up Blaze, pat the good-natured mare on the neck, and turn her head homeward-bound. He'd been away far too long, and he was more than ready to successfully tie up all the loose ends of his mission and say farewell.

It had been a heartening experience.

Gilan loved Ranger work; he'd chosen that path for himself over battle school or any other options open to him even from a young age. There was a certain renegade-like freedom that came with the silver oak leaf the young man sported on the chain around his throat, and he couldn't have traded in his grubby, mottled cloak and longbow for a cushy office and sheaf of papers if the King himself had begged him to. No; he belonged in the thick of the action, travelling and investigating, and fighting when necessary-

But oh, somehow returning back to his quiet little cabin on the forested edge of Meric Fief was like landing himself in his own personal patch of Heaven. As he'd taken in the comforting, welcoming sight of the oak trees that surrounded the little shack, and the familiar curves of the road underfoot, he couldn't help but smile in bliss. He was back. He was home.

The knot that had been growing larger and larger in his chest with every passing day suddenly gave out to an immense wave of ease.

But of course... There were negative aspects to returning home after being gone for so long as well.

First, upon returning home, he took care of his horse. Blaze seemed happy to be back in familiar territory as well, her ears pricked and her eyes bright as Gilan rubbed her down, before setting her loose in her paddock for a while, refilling her water buckets, and forking out fresh hay.

The paddock was a fanciful thing, really; his first year as the Ranger of Meric Fief, he'd set his mind to it and decided he was going to build a corral for the tall mare so she wouldn't have to stay in the stable all day. In theory, it was a great idea; there was plenty of luscious grass for the horse to graze on, and it would help keep her from being cooped up; the only thing that had gone ignored was that Ranger horses never stray, and, therefore, he could have saved himself the time, energy, and resources by just setting Blaze loose in the yard.

And yet, there was a certain amount of pride and accomplishment that came with the little-fenced area. It was a sign that he'd personalized the space; put his name on this patch of land in a way that the Ranger before him hadn't. It was a way of making the cabin feel like his own.

Blaze, as always, as if trying to make it seem as though being outdoors was some kind of treat, trotted around the corral, her head and tail held high. She kicked up her heels once or twice, causing Gilan to laugh as he watched his mare from the porch of the cabin, enjoying seeing her act like a horse half her age.

"Get it all out of your system now rather than later," He'd called cheerfully as she crow-hopped wildly, before stepping inside the dim expanse of the cabin.