And Now I'm Stranded (Open)

[Ferr Windston]

The sun was high in the sky and the clouds moved with the wind. Lingering over head, the clouds blocked out the sun down the path of a lone sailing boat. It's sail was purple with the emblem of a fire. Baskets littered the deck, crumbles scattered and a few dishes broken. The water collector's and containers laid dry and barren. Laying on the deck, Ahra kept a blind fold on his eyes. He had grown weak after two weeks at sea. He had thought he spotted land earlier in the day, but had fallen due to late of food. He had yet to raise and check.

The Zashine laid spread out on the floor, muttering and humming. His water craft approached the west shore of Yoreiq, being pushed by the sail and winds. It was almost like a ghost ship, and based on Ahra's condition, it soon might be if he didn't reach land soon. Thankfully, his boat was heading directly for land, but at a troublesome speed. As the sand and wood meet, the sea releases the ship from it's grasp. Yet only to be met with the hold of land and earth. The mystic moans, feeling the ship rock and then suddenly come to a halt. He raises his sword in hand, trying to signal for help with what little energy he had left.

[Winters-Feather]

It was the height of the day, and the fishermen were hard at work.  Narron stood expertly on canoe he shared with another fishermen, Koana. 
"Throw out the net," Narron instructed, his eyes on the fish in the water.
"Hey, look there!" Koana said, pointing towards the west.
Narron wiped the sweat from his brow as he squinted. He held up his hand to block the sun from his eyes.  There, in the distance, was a flashing light.
"What's that?" Narron asked.
"Don't know," Koana responded. "Ships aren't supposed to be there."
"Huh," Narron responded. He found it unusual, but he wouldn't have thought much more of it, until Koana spoke again.
"I think they're signaling. Aiiii," he sighed, very concerned. 
"Narron, they're signaling. Someone needs to check them out," he said, firmly.

Narron's jaw hardened. He looked at the other fishermen, who were busy chatting and reeling in nets. Most in this crowd didn't have wings. Koana didn't have wings. He clapped Koana on the back before expanding his wings.
"I'll go. Don't concern the others until I get back," he said.
He bent his knees and jumped, the canoe rocking almost violently as he took off.

--

As Narron flew over the tattered ship, his figure blocked out the sun for a moment.
"Aiii."
Narron sucked in his  teeth at the sight. He had his share of wrecks, as sometimes ships got stranded on the island. 
I have to get the others, Narron thought.
"HEY!" Narron shouted as he flew down towards the ship, gliding over it. There was a figure, a man, waving a sword.

Narron landed by the figure, crouching by him.
"Hey," he said in common again, more gentle.  "How are you?"

[Ferr Windston]

The Zashine looked up at the winged man and was given a feelin of relief. He placed his blade to the ground and nodded. "...Better days." Ahra coughed with a dry heave. "At sea for weeks...Not enough water." Grabbing his throat, the young man started coughing again. His lips looked dry and cracking, signs of dehydration. He kept his eyes squinted as he looked to Narron. "Please help."

[Winters-Feather]

Narron glanced at the sword nervously as he patted his sarong, expecting to find a goard tied to it. There was none. Narron scowled momentarily and squatted by the sailor, quickly scanning for wounds. Finding nothing, hegently scooped up the weakened sailor. He could pass as yoreiqi, but Narron doubted he Was. The boat and bannerss were Foreign, but not unlike any hes seen.
"we are going to fly, okay?" He said. "Is it just you?"

[Ferr Windston]

"Fly?" Ahra asked before vacantly nodding. "Yes. It is just me. I am fine with flying." His voice had come out slightly weaker than before, and Ahra himself heard it. Before he would fly though, Ahra would reach to the side of his baji and look to his sheath. The foreign man couldn't quickly untie the hindrance, so he took a deep sigh and closed his eyes. He started thinking when they were closed. This man looked similar to a Zashine, but Ahra knew better than to think his people would be this far out.

[Winters-Feather]

"Good," Narron said.
He frowned at the empty sheath, glancing at the sword on the deck. Somebody would come for that later, he was sure. Nobody on the island was a thief. The sword would be returned.  Cradling Ahra firmly in his arms, Narron flew. The ship was by the shore, so flying was not necessarily necessary, but definitely faster. He flew towards  the fishermen's village. In the height of day, it was bursting with activity. Nets were being repaired, smoke  that smelled of meat and bread emerged from cooking huts, and  goods were being exchanged at the market. At the sight of Narron, a worried murmur spread among them.

A small crowd formed around Narron, making it difficult for him to land. He was bombarded with questions in rapid Yoreiqi, which he patiently answered. However, whenever someone reached to touch the sailor, Narron would do his best to move. The poor man was burnt and dehydrated-  Narron doubted that despite their good intentions, the people were only make his suffering worse.

Finally, he arrived at the healer's tent. The older, wingless man had been waiting for him. He wore a clean, green sarong that wrapped around his waist and tied over his shoulder. He was also one of the few to possess glasses.  He ushered Narron in, and helped lied Ahra on a soft pallet with blankets thrown over it. Though a low fire burned in the hut, it was airy and cool inside.

"He needs water, Kowiha," Narron urged in their language.
The healer nodded, and pressed a bowl full of water in Narron's hands.
"Help him drink this. Slowly. I'll go get a balm for his skin," he said. "Also ask him questions. I cannot speak Common."
"As you say," Narron agreed.

He shifted his attention to Ahra.
"I took you to a doctor," he said slowly in Common.
He helped the sailor lift his head, and held up the bowl. 
"Drink slowly," he said, translating the doctor's advice.  "What's your name? Where are you from?"

It occurred to Narron he had forgotten to tell his fellow fishermen what was going on, but no doubt that someone had run off to tell them. News traveled quickly on the island.

[Ferr Windston]

When passing through the crowd, the fairly light man kept his eyes closed and held his breath. He was unfamiliar with these and thus felt it was best to not stimulate their curiosity. But once on the pallet and being taken care of, Ahra felt at peace and at ease. Taking some water that was given to him, he drank it slowly, savoring it. Once the mystic was asked the questions, he looked up to Narron. "I must really thank you before I go on." As a Zashine, it was a common custom to thank someone before following with order's or requests.

Keeping his eye's closed, he spoke in Common. "My name is Ahra Runoi. I come from the Isle of Greymaine. I have been at sea for almost two weeks with full sail of swift winds and tides." The dark skinned man then took another sip of water. "The sea was beautiful before I realized I was running out of food."

[Winters-Feather]

Greymaine? Narron had never heard of it. Further, this man ventured out in the ocean by himself? Only a fool did such things... But Narron knew better than to scold a perfect stranger, especially one who had suffered as much as this. He was polite, at the least.
"Ahra," he repeated. "That's an easy name. Mine's Narron. Are you a trader? Where is your island?"

[Ferr Windston]

"I am no trader and no fishermen caught adrift." Ahra took a moment to breath and collect his thoughts. "In common...It would be passed the Constellation Reef, far far to the west of here. My island is isolated but large. We that there is much more land to the east, and so I came to this mainland to seek out new knowledge and wisdom's for my people." In a soft tone, Ahra chuckled. "It is funny. Our people look rather similar to be honest. Narron, what is the name of your people? Mine is Zashine."

[Winters-Feather]

"Oh," Narron simply replied, unsure of what to make all of that. He couldn't quite understand what Ahra meant. It was all so strange to him! This man was no trader or fisherman? Zashine?
"Ah Yoreiq. We are Yoreiqi," Narron hastily replied when Kowiha returned with a fresh orange sarong over his shoulder, a bowl of water in one hand, and a jar of a sweet smelling ointment in the other.  Narron placed down the drinking bowl and accepted the other one as Kowiha muttered some orders to him.

"This is Kowiha," Narron said as he gently peeled off Ahra's sweaty headband. "He said he's going to help with your burns. I'm going to wash your face, okay?"
Narron pressed a cloth into the bowl, and and drained it of most of its water before gently swiping it on Ahra's face. It was awkward work, washing another's face. However, ,it was rather like cleaning a babe, and Narron had done his share of that. Ahra was at least still and patient.
"I do not want to be ... rude?" Narron said, making sure the words came out right. "But how did you get here? Alone."

[Ferr Windston]

"Hello Kowiha." Ahra nodded and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath before being assisted. "Um, I guess." The man shrugged mentally before going silent. He started trying to puzzle together his reasons and explanations. But was mostly taking in the scent of the ointment. In a few moments, Ahra released his breath and opened his eyes. "Well to begin...It was two years ago. It was my rite of passage ceremony. During it, I was shown to meet certain requirements to give me the title of Mystic. There hadn't been someone like me in a few generations, so it was a big deal. With this title, I was charged with traveling the world and learn. Gather wisdom, knowledge and ideas from other people and societies."

Ahra chuckled. "You can only learn so much from an island. But yeah, I was given the task and told to return after about two to four years. Sounds pretty long to me."

[Winters-Feather]

Narron translated what he could to the healer as they worked, seeing it as the polite thing to do. Of course, there was some words he couldn't quite comprehend, but he got the basics of it. When he was done, the doctor said something that made Narron's face light up.
"Kowiha has a very good idea," Narron told Ahra. "When you get better, would you like to live in my hut?  Then, when the time comes, you can leave the island with the merchants. Would you like that?"

[Ferr Windston]

Ahra thought about to proposal. He figured it would give him time to recover, allow him to pay the men back, and to learn from these people. Nodding his head, the Zashine agreed. "I accept the offer and thank you. How long do you think that might be?" He asked, leaning up.

[Winters-Feather]

Narron beamed, proud to be the one the outsider had chosen to stay with.
"Excellent!" he said.
He told Kowiha in rapid Yoreiqi what Ahra had asked him.
"A few days, at most,"  Narron translated when he got an answer. "To get your strength back. Then, you may stay on the island as long as you want."
He clapped  a hand against his black and red hair, tugging it a bit in frustration. He muttered something in Yoreiqi to which Kowiha chuckled. Narron shook his head.
"There is a festival next week," Narron told Ahra. "You've come at a good time! Though I forgot I must do something later tonight. "

He didn't want to be rude and leave the stranger alone with no knowledge of the language. And there was another thing...

"Your sword," he said, sheepishly. " I will find it. Someone must have it. Is there anything else on the ship?"

[Ferr Windston]

"A festival? I guess everything happens for a reason. And a few days will do me good." Ahra chuckled before his eyes settled upon the two men with great distress. "Yes! My sword, I must get it!" His voice become horse as he tried to get up. Sadly he was still rather weak, and fell back onto the pallet. He cringed and held his torso. "Damn it. Please, send someone right away. Their are other things on the ship's small cargo hold as well. Just throw a tarp or sail it closer please. I have a few things that I must personally retrieve. But yes, my sword is very important."

With that, the Zashine looked to the Yoreiqi before closing his eyes. "I think I just gave himself a head pain."

[Winters-Feather]

Narron tensed as Ahra suddenly became flustered.
"Please don't," he said, reaching out to help the man lay back down. He nodded quickly a few times at the man's request.
"Don't worry, I'll do it," he promised. "Kowiha will take care of you. I'll be back later, yeah?"

With that, he told the healer where he was going before exiting the hut. Narron sighed as he left the hut, rubbing his temples. It was a lot to take in, and though a guest was happy news, a wreck was not. He stretched out his limbs, glad to be in the sun light  and outside again. His wings burst from being folded against his back to being outstretched and Narron took off into the late afternoon skies.

A few things Ahra personally wanted to retrieve... Narron didn't really get the privacy. Why must he do it himself? But it wasn't his business, and the least he could do was save what he could of the ship. Before he could go in that direction, however, Narron flew in the direction of his hut, where his friends and  equipment would no doubt be waiting.

[Ferr Windston]

Ahra sighed as he laid down, placing his hand over his eyes. "Kowiha, thanks for the help." The Mystic said, boosting his own spirits in a way just by talking. Looking at his sun burned, dark skin, the man took in a deep breath and just laid their. He removed his robe-like tunic, airing out his chest. He felt like he was slowly gaining greater motion back in his upper body, yet his limbs were still heavy.

With his phoenix tattoo exposed, he brushed some sweet off his pectorals. He turned his head over and around, taking in a full view of the hut. "Very nice place." He muttered to himself in his horse voice before slowly falling asleep.

[Winters-Feather]

When Narron arrived home, he found most of the fishermen waiting for him.  Koana was the first to meet him.
"What happened?" he asked.
Narron explained to them about Ahra. Most of the fishermen relaxed at his words, glad that the man was fine. Others looked at each other warily. A  foreigner from a land they had never heard of was
strange news, indeed. Though most were open to visitors, some remain cautious of being taken advantage of.

"We got the boat safely to shore," Koana told Narron. "Don't worry about it now. You should rest and eat a little."
Narron wanted to do that more than anything, but he still had business to attend to.
"Ahra's sword," Narron explained. "It is important to him. "

Another fisherman step forward, sheepishly holding out the weapon. His body was covered with fearsome scars, for he was also a hunter, as well.
"I was playing with it," he admitted. "I've never seen the likes before."
Narron grinned.
"Thank you," he said. "Let's not tell."

Narron's friends were persistent and firm. They would not let their friend leave until he ate with them, drank with them, and tell them more about Ahra as they told him their stories with the boat and other happenings that afternoon. By the time they let Narron leave, the moon was high in the sky. Before he left, however, he was careful to wrap the blade in layers of cloth, so as not to nick himself on the way back.

[Ferr Windston]

Well before the moon reached it's height in the sky, Ahra had fallen asleep in the hut. Drained from both exhaustion and boredom, the Zashine drifted in pleasant dreams that left him wanting and whining. In his dreams, he was continuing to sail, going past the island he washed upon and drifting into the mainland. There the vision of a mighty tower or spire filled his mind. Almost like a premonition. It's location was unknown, and Ahra felt a chilling wind fly up into his lungs before falling to his knees in a tower among fallen ruins. His dream jumped from the sight of a masterpiece to the view of a destroyed kingdom.

Shifting in his sleep, his sheath fell to the floor. The cling echoed in his mind loud enough to awaken him from his deep dream. Though caught in a jumping dream, the ping from his sheath was like a gong in this alternate ream. His emerald eye shot open, and he quickly leaned forward. Taking in deep breaths, the man realized that he was feeling in better shape. Yet not enough to go venturing out too far.

Calming himself down, Ahra placed his shirt back on before making an attempt to stand. Using the pallet to push himself up, the man's shaky legs were enough to hold up his weight. "Now..." His voice was low and hurt. "Lets see what is outside, shall we?" He asked himself, reaching for the doorway.

Over the village, a white wisp flew by at incredible speeds. It's shape was not exact and with the moon as it's cover, it spiraled up into the sky before plummeting down into the pathways of the village itself. It searched, seeking something for it held a determination like a hungry wolf.

[Winters-Feather]

Narron did not initially  notice the wisp, too ensnared in his thoughts and the dark path back to the hut.  When he came close, he saw a strange and small light hurling itself towards the village.
Strange, he thought, though was not alarmed. There were many things that glowed in the dark, and most were not hostile.

When he landed, he found Ahra's face streaked in moonlight, his face peeking out of the hut.. Narron frowned to see the stranger struggling to stand.
"Do you want to come out?," he asked, knowing Kowiha would protest. Ahra should be resting, not on his feet!