2. The Stranger

Once Caleb departed, Alena embraced the silence and stretched out the last remnants of sleep. She shuffled towards the dresser with her hands brushing against the smooth fabric of her nightgown before she pulled it over her head and tossed it onto the delicate heap of yesterday’s clothes that lay over the chair. In its place, Alena reached for a white cotton tunic that was soft against her skin, its fabric light and breathable, and paired it with leggings that comfortably hugged her hips. The simplicity of the outfit brought a smile to her face. When she turned to the mirror, light cast a warm glow across her brow igniting the amber flecks in her honey-brown eyes. Loose hair framed her face with disheveled waves and curls, so she reached for her hairbrush in response. Its bristles glided through the tangles with ease, each stroke smoothing out the rebellious locks. With practiced hands, she began to weave her hair into a neat braid.

With her attire refreshed and hair finally secured over my shoulder, Alena moved about their shared space where traces of Caleb still lingered in the air – a book on the bedside table, the faint aroma of him, and the subtle imprint of their laughter echoed in her memory.

She entered the kitchen where the worn wooden beams and rustic charm reminded her of when their father installed the new fireplace mantel after she nearly burned the last one when she was five. Alena found solace in the memories of their parents. A half-read book on the table caught her eye, its pages would whisper tales of worlds beyond their own. She flipped through a few pages, momentarily lost in the stories, before returning it to the shelf.

The day unfolded with a series of familiar tasks – mending fences, tending the garden, and ensuring the animals were cared for. While in the tranquility of her surroundings, she found a quiet strength – an appreciation for the simplicity of a well-tended farm, the subtle beauty of nature's symphony, and the unspoken connection with the land. She embraced the solitude, cherishing distant memories of their parents and the echoes of their laughter that lingered like a gentle breeze.

After half the day had passed, she found herself wandering back to the cabin, then up the porch that wrapped around the front. The wooden planks beneath her feet creaked slightly as she ascended the steps. As she stood on the veranda, a subtle undercurrent of anxiety crept its way into her thoughts, prompted by Caleb’s lingering absence. The worry, though not unfamiliar, cast a gentle shadow over her. Yet, Alena urged herself to step inside the cabin in an attempt to find solace within its cozy confines.

~~~

With a resounding crash, the door to the cabin flew open, prompting Alena to jump from her seat, sending the chair skidding back a few feet and landing on the ground with a loud thud. A towering figure strode into the room, his leather coat dragging dust into the room. Black hair dipped over his face in an attempt to cover the subtle scar that cut across his cheekbone. Deep amber eyes glinted with intensity as his gaze fixed on her.

Alena’s hand instinctively reached for the daggers secured to her belt. The chill of the metal hilt against her trembling hand served as a reminder of her smallness in the face of the figure confronting her.

The creaking floorboards informed her of his advance, each step echoing through the confined space. As he neared, the weight of the situation settled in the pit of her stomach as a motionless form lay heavy in the stranger's arms. The man strode purposefully into the kitchen and the atmosphere in the room thickened. With deliberate gentleness, he placed the limp body on the table. Sunlight filtered through the window, and the swaying trees cast subtle shadows that played tricks on her senses.

The gravity of the situation gripped Alena’s heart, freezing her in place. Caleb's usually vibrant presence now lay silent, and the room began to close in around her as the realization took hold. The familiarity of his features, coated with dirt and blood, was unmistakable.

The concern for her brother intensified the tightening of her brow as she observed the gravity of the situation that enveloped them. The stranger's presence, however, demanded her attention, but she found herself torn between the urgency of her brother's condition and the need to understand the motives of this mysterious savior.

The mountainous man stepped away from the table and the need to care for her brother overshadowed any reservations she had. Staggering to where Caleb lay, she reached for his unmoving body with trembling hands.

"This man needs help." He stated while reaching over his shoulder to pull a large sac from his back.

Alena rummaged through the kitchen, desperately searching through the cabinets. "What happened to him?" Worry clouded her voice.

He pulled out some bandages and a bottle of clear liquid, then placed it on the table beside Caleb's body. "There was an accident in the woods, and I found him unconscious at the bottom of a gully."

In a frenzy, she rushed to the table with supplies, then grabbed at Caleb's shirt tearing it away, exposing more of his chest. His torso was littered with superficial scratches except for one deep cut spanning from shoulder to naval. She desperately packed his wounds.

"Bandages, herbs... we need more. He's losing too much blood." The face of her tunic turned scarlet from Caleb's blood as she desperately mixed ointments on the table's edge.

The man quickly moved to the fireplace, grabbing hold of the metal poker. "Here." The tip of the poker glowed red, and he offered it to Alena. "Take it. You have to do this. It's the only way you can stop the bleeding."

She took hold of the poker with a cloth to shield her hand from its searing heat. Alena’s eyes widened with a mixture of fear and understanding as she positioned herself for the unconventional procedure. The rod hissed as it connected with Caleb's damp flesh. The acrid scent of burning tissue quickly filled the air and she clenched her teeth at the thought of the pain this was causing her brother. As the poker did its job, Alena fought back tears, focusing on the urgent task at hand. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead as she carefully controlled the searing metal. After what felt like an eternity, she withdrew the poker, the wound now sealed. Caleb's body stopped jerking and his breathing steadied.

"You did it. It should be enough to stop the bleeding." The unfamiliar sound of his voice cut through the eerily quiet kitchen. She looked over and saw he’d been resting his hands on Caleb's shoulders. He must have been holding him steady this whole time. "He needs to rest," he said, straightening himself and then taking a subtle step away from the table.

The fireplace poker was smoking faintly as the tissue burned off the tip.

Alena pressed two fingers to Caleb’s wrist, checking his heart rate. Caleb's chest rose slowly, and his pulse steadied to a normal rhythm. "Who are you? How did you find him?" Alena questioned as she looked up at him towering over them. He smelt of damp earth.

He remained silent. The room filled with tension as she gently worked to clean the blood that covered her brother’s body, the only sound being the rustling of bandages and the crackling of the fireplace. She carefully applied herbs and wrapped bandages around his waist.

When she finished, her breathing was still heavy as the rush of adrenaline began to fade, the water in the basin had turned black from all the dried blood and debris.

"Help me take him to bed." She wiped her hands on a towel, then gestured for the stranger to pick Caleb up and take him to the bedroom.

Advancing, the man seized Caleb, lifting him effortlessly as if he were a sack of potatoes. Guiding him down the hall, she opened the door to the bedroom, where the man's presence loomed large in the passageway. Stepping past her, he gently placed Caleb onto the weathered bed.

The fur cloak cascaded over his shoulders and was fastened at the front with a silver brooch. Around his waist, a leather belt cinched the deep blue tunic, from which hung a sheathed sword, its handle carved with intricate runes.

            When the man moved away from Caleb, Alena filled the space to instinctively pull the blankets over him. Before she straightened to turn her focus to the stranger, he had already left the room and quickly stepped out of the cabin without a moment's pause.