Re: Truckin'
Posted: Thu Dec 21, 2017 3:36 am
Chapter 20 – Outreach And Reply.
The next morning Al rose early, stretched and headed for the kitchen. Sleeping in the chair was becoming easier, however his spine and extremities were less than fond of the idea. The ottoman Sterling had found made it much more comfortable, but needs must, and she still needed him.
As he puttered among the coffee things, he mused to himself.
She’s definitely getting better. Other than the night she had the breakdown her sleeping patterns have lengthened, and her general condition and energy levels are improving. I am cautiously optimistic – by the time we have her caravan cleaned up she should be able to fly without me.
He briefly considered the thought of being on the road as a team, then shook his head. This was her wanderjahr, not his – and she needed to find her own tranquility.
Still, it would be fun. However, duty calls after this, and disappearing for a month or more would try the patience of even my dam. Being pursued cross-country by an angry dam with a long-range rifle would put a damper on even the lightest lark.
Grinning, he made himself a press coffee, then stepped outside to let Sterling rest.
Enjoying the dawn as was his way, it occurred to him that the barren patch in the woods was just intolerable. That is just not on. These lands are so well-tended both physically and magically that that blight is just horrid.
Thankfully…I think I know who can fix it.
Settling himself into a chair in the cutting garden, he composed himself, concentrated and called into the distance EMERAULD! EME, LUV! It’s AL!”
He called a second then a third time. After the third a mental voice, sleep-fogged and not completely coherent answered. This had best be important, friend Al. Do you have any idea what time it is here?
Chagrined, Al replied No, I don’t. I sincerely apologize for waking you, but…your sister needs you.
The voice snapped immediately to attention. What is the situation, and what is the enemy? I will be right there – let me fetch Safyr-
To’ryll, be at peace. There is no enemy, or to speak truly, the enemy is long defeated but his harm has been left behind. She does not need your or Uuthli’s warrior skills, but your skills as a warden of the Green.
Do tell. My sister is not unskillful – why does she need me?
In a few sentences, mindful of his fading power, Al detailed the problem, and the condition of the blighted spot.
Right now your sister suffers from the ill humors I did a few years back, and needs to travel as I did. I am assisting her here in her place to prepare her vehicles for her travels, and then I will send her off to rest.
However, the condition of her lands, and the damage done by the vermin will wear on her. If you could at least begin the recovery and invite life back to the land – it would do well for her mind.
Friend Al, you speak truly. As your mind grew well on your travels, hers will as well. I know not if I can help her lands recover, but I can but try.
When you come – not now – go back to sleep! – speak to me in this manner and I will meet you there. I do not want to raise your sister’s hopes unless something can be done.
Understood. I come today. With no ceremony the contact was broken, and Al sagged in his chair, badly spent. my own damn fault – should have centered and charged before I did that. Damn fool.
Feeling a headache starting, he left his chair, kneeled to the earth in the garden, and grounded and centered, restoring his balance before Sterling detected it. Then, cup in hand, he sat back and enjoyed the early Indiana morning.
However, his tranquility was short-lived. With a flutter of wings the assault began, as usual with no warning and less concern for his personal dignity.
*Whack! Whack!*
Al threw his hands up in reflex, stalling the blows.
"'Geroff Ialin! What'd I do now!"
"Let go. No, really. Let go! Oh, well done Ailean!"
Ialin was stuck in place mid-whack with her scowl still frozen on her tiny face, reminding him of a humourous book he had read about pressed faeries. With a squeaking noise straight from a cartoon she slid downward as though sliding down a pane of glass, ending up in his lap. Just before she landed she straightened, and stood properly on his thigh, applauding.
"Wretched pixie. What did I do or not do this time? If you're angry I didn't call, 'twas because I take far too many liberties of your good nature, and tried to work it out on my own.
If it's because I woke Emerauld up, I've apologised to her, and shall do so in a better manner with a proper cuppa when I see her next."
"Lastly, sorry about that. That one is still on a hair trigger, so a bit overdone. I assure you that's on my practice list. All all right?"
“Very much so. I’m impressed you managed to catch me off-guard with that bit of magic – a mortal would have had no chance against it. Not all that hair-trigger, actually, if you’re going to react with that you need it quick.”
Al was unmollified by the compliments. “All well and good, but I’ll not be able to use it on you again, I suspect, by that dramatic end you put to it.”
"You've grown...by leaps and bounds. Keep trying – you may surprise me again.”
“Are you planning on answering my question as to the subject of the assault, or are you in for a chin-wag? Either way I can easily generate another cup of coffee for you – your choice.”
“The former, and thank you but no on the coffee.” Ialin grew more serious. “Of course, Eme didn’t go back to sleep – she called to me. We discussed the problem here. I can feel it, even from this distance – the poisoning was terrible, and the damage it did to the trees and littles is not trivial.
Eme may be able to handle it, but please…don’t hesitate to call on me should you wish. There are many willows here, and coming to aid Sterling would be an honor.”
Al pondered her words gravely. “I will happily ask for your help if Eme feels the need. I can feel the problem, but I can’t fathom what it will take to bring a start to the healing. This is far beyond my pay grade and power level, and always will be.
“I will leave this in Eme’s hands. She is the expert here, not I.”
Ialin looked at him. “That sounds like a plan. I am more than willing to assist, but Eme has the talent to do this. I await your call, Sir.”
“Don’t call me that you miserable pigeon…”
With that, she faded from view, the scent of the forest lingering in the air.
Smiling, Al finished his coffee, then headed indoors to prepare more. Laying out the makings of breakfast he prepared a cup of Kona for Sterling and wandered back into her room, setting it on the nightstand. Sure it would soon work its magic he headed back to the kitchen and poured himself another cup, sitting at the table.
Well, with the vermin out of the way the road ahead is open. The new soft furnishings are being made at the RE prototype shop, and with Olaidh back on her feet the only thing to do here is the caravan – and that will be a pleasure, now.
Within minutes Sterling stirred, and Al heard the sounds of doors opening and closing and water running. Soon she appeared, still sleepy-eyed but gaining fast as the mug of strong Kona worked its magic.
“Good morning. How did you sleep, ducks?”
“Very well. No dreams, no restlessness, no tossing and turning. Between the house being lightened and my brave knight” she squeezed his hand and smiled at him “my night was likely far better than yours.
“Al, you need to get a proper night of sleep somewhere here along the line. Being my mother hen is all well and good, but ye need yer rest.”
Al clucked somewhat indignantly. “My condition is entirely adequate, miss.”
“Don’t call me that, ye lackwitted…” She stopped, and began to chuckle. “Nicely deflected. So, what is on the agenda now that my tenants are gone?”
“Oh, none of that, now. First things first is a solid breakfast, then we can discuss the day. I suspect that beginning the repairs to the caravan will be ‘in the cards’. We’ve nowt to do but wait for the soft furnishings, so the rest of it needs to be dealt with.” With that, Al got up from his place and turned on the stove burners, heating pans. He turned back to the table, setting a small bowl of muesli and a milk pitcher in front of Sterling. “Eat yer groats, and I’ll have a fryup for ye in a minute.”
“Yes, Mum.”
The next morning Al rose early, stretched and headed for the kitchen. Sleeping in the chair was becoming easier, however his spine and extremities were less than fond of the idea. The ottoman Sterling had found made it much more comfortable, but needs must, and she still needed him.
As he puttered among the coffee things, he mused to himself.
She’s definitely getting better. Other than the night she had the breakdown her sleeping patterns have lengthened, and her general condition and energy levels are improving. I am cautiously optimistic – by the time we have her caravan cleaned up she should be able to fly without me.
He briefly considered the thought of being on the road as a team, then shook his head. This was her wanderjahr, not his – and she needed to find her own tranquility.
Still, it would be fun. However, duty calls after this, and disappearing for a month or more would try the patience of even my dam. Being pursued cross-country by an angry dam with a long-range rifle would put a damper on even the lightest lark.
Grinning, he made himself a press coffee, then stepped outside to let Sterling rest.
Enjoying the dawn as was his way, it occurred to him that the barren patch in the woods was just intolerable. That is just not on. These lands are so well-tended both physically and magically that that blight is just horrid.
Thankfully…I think I know who can fix it.
Settling himself into a chair in the cutting garden, he composed himself, concentrated and called into the distance EMERAULD! EME, LUV! It’s AL!”
He called a second then a third time. After the third a mental voice, sleep-fogged and not completely coherent answered. This had best be important, friend Al. Do you have any idea what time it is here?
Chagrined, Al replied No, I don’t. I sincerely apologize for waking you, but…your sister needs you.
The voice snapped immediately to attention. What is the situation, and what is the enemy? I will be right there – let me fetch Safyr-
To’ryll, be at peace. There is no enemy, or to speak truly, the enemy is long defeated but his harm has been left behind. She does not need your or Uuthli’s warrior skills, but your skills as a warden of the Green.
Do tell. My sister is not unskillful – why does she need me?
In a few sentences, mindful of his fading power, Al detailed the problem, and the condition of the blighted spot.
Right now your sister suffers from the ill humors I did a few years back, and needs to travel as I did. I am assisting her here in her place to prepare her vehicles for her travels, and then I will send her off to rest.
However, the condition of her lands, and the damage done by the vermin will wear on her. If you could at least begin the recovery and invite life back to the land – it would do well for her mind.
Friend Al, you speak truly. As your mind grew well on your travels, hers will as well. I know not if I can help her lands recover, but I can but try.
When you come – not now – go back to sleep! – speak to me in this manner and I will meet you there. I do not want to raise your sister’s hopes unless something can be done.
Understood. I come today. With no ceremony the contact was broken, and Al sagged in his chair, badly spent. my own damn fault – should have centered and charged before I did that. Damn fool.
Feeling a headache starting, he left his chair, kneeled to the earth in the garden, and grounded and centered, restoring his balance before Sterling detected it. Then, cup in hand, he sat back and enjoyed the early Indiana morning.
However, his tranquility was short-lived. With a flutter of wings the assault began, as usual with no warning and less concern for his personal dignity.
*Whack! Whack!*
Al threw his hands up in reflex, stalling the blows.
"'Geroff Ialin! What'd I do now!"
"Let go. No, really. Let go! Oh, well done Ailean!"
Ialin was stuck in place mid-whack with her scowl still frozen on her tiny face, reminding him of a humourous book he had read about pressed faeries. With a squeaking noise straight from a cartoon she slid downward as though sliding down a pane of glass, ending up in his lap. Just before she landed she straightened, and stood properly on his thigh, applauding.
"Wretched pixie. What did I do or not do this time? If you're angry I didn't call, 'twas because I take far too many liberties of your good nature, and tried to work it out on my own.
If it's because I woke Emerauld up, I've apologised to her, and shall do so in a better manner with a proper cuppa when I see her next."
"Lastly, sorry about that. That one is still on a hair trigger, so a bit overdone. I assure you that's on my practice list. All all right?"
“Very much so. I’m impressed you managed to catch me off-guard with that bit of magic – a mortal would have had no chance against it. Not all that hair-trigger, actually, if you’re going to react with that you need it quick.”
Al was unmollified by the compliments. “All well and good, but I’ll not be able to use it on you again, I suspect, by that dramatic end you put to it.”
"You've grown...by leaps and bounds. Keep trying – you may surprise me again.”
“Are you planning on answering my question as to the subject of the assault, or are you in for a chin-wag? Either way I can easily generate another cup of coffee for you – your choice.”
“The former, and thank you but no on the coffee.” Ialin grew more serious. “Of course, Eme didn’t go back to sleep – she called to me. We discussed the problem here. I can feel it, even from this distance – the poisoning was terrible, and the damage it did to the trees and littles is not trivial.
Eme may be able to handle it, but please…don’t hesitate to call on me should you wish. There are many willows here, and coming to aid Sterling would be an honor.”
Al pondered her words gravely. “I will happily ask for your help if Eme feels the need. I can feel the problem, but I can’t fathom what it will take to bring a start to the healing. This is far beyond my pay grade and power level, and always will be.
“I will leave this in Eme’s hands. She is the expert here, not I.”
Ialin looked at him. “That sounds like a plan. I am more than willing to assist, but Eme has the talent to do this. I await your call, Sir.”
“Don’t call me that you miserable pigeon…”
With that, she faded from view, the scent of the forest lingering in the air.
Smiling, Al finished his coffee, then headed indoors to prepare more. Laying out the makings of breakfast he prepared a cup of Kona for Sterling and wandered back into her room, setting it on the nightstand. Sure it would soon work its magic he headed back to the kitchen and poured himself another cup, sitting at the table.
Well, with the vermin out of the way the road ahead is open. The new soft furnishings are being made at the RE prototype shop, and with Olaidh back on her feet the only thing to do here is the caravan – and that will be a pleasure, now.
Within minutes Sterling stirred, and Al heard the sounds of doors opening and closing and water running. Soon she appeared, still sleepy-eyed but gaining fast as the mug of strong Kona worked its magic.
“Good morning. How did you sleep, ducks?”
“Very well. No dreams, no restlessness, no tossing and turning. Between the house being lightened and my brave knight” she squeezed his hand and smiled at him “my night was likely far better than yours.
“Al, you need to get a proper night of sleep somewhere here along the line. Being my mother hen is all well and good, but ye need yer rest.”
Al clucked somewhat indignantly. “My condition is entirely adequate, miss.”
“Don’t call me that, ye lackwitted…” She stopped, and began to chuckle. “Nicely deflected. So, what is on the agenda now that my tenants are gone?”
“Oh, none of that, now. First things first is a solid breakfast, then we can discuss the day. I suspect that beginning the repairs to the caravan will be ‘in the cards’. We’ve nowt to do but wait for the soft furnishings, so the rest of it needs to be dealt with.” With that, Al got up from his place and turned on the stove burners, heating pans. He turned back to the table, setting a small bowl of muesli and a milk pitcher in front of Sterling. “Eat yer groats, and I’ll have a fryup for ye in a minute.”
“Yes, Mum.”