Translated From Sarconain Highway

Melissa stood on the edge of the gorge, looking down the high sheer cliffs to the wild river below.  One step - she would be over the edge, and that was her plan.  The crashing, merciless river would not let her live for long, even if she managed to fall between the jagged rocks that thrust out of the river like so many broken teeth.  The young girl was not in total control of her stricken mind, having never fully recovered from the blow to the head that had knocked her out during the rockslide.  Everything in her brain was foggy; nothing clear at all except the fact that both her mind and her body were in pain.  Disoriented, she had decided that death was the only escape from that.  She stepped forwards.  Something jerked at her belt and she felt herself falling, but it was not the direction she had intended.  She was falling backwards.  Arms caught her and she was lifted, none too gently, and carried away from the edge of the cliff.

Melissa did not resist.  She didn't care what happened to her.  Her unsupported head drooped back over her rescuer's arm, and she felt the blood going into it.  Perhaps she would go unconscious.  The thought was inviting, and she welcomed the blackness, inviting it into her mind. 

Cold water on her face drove the blackness away.  "What do ye think ye're doin'?" said a voice above her.  It was a woman who had spoken.  Melissa knew that from her voice.  She also knew that the woman was a northerner from her accent.

"Getting away from it all," said Melissa.

" 'At's the worst way to do it, lassie."

"Can't you just leave me alone?"

"Melissa.  No.  A can't just leave ye alone."

"How do you know my name?"

"A've been lookin' for ye.  Yer brother - he contacted the Scouts, told 'em ye were still presumably alive.  They contacted us Northerners."

"Jack!!" Melissa screamed, sitting up.  "He's alive?"

"Yes.  And very worried."

"And I...And I..." Melissa, overwhelmed, fainted.

 

When she awoke, she was lying on something comfortable and a bit crackly.  The blanket over her was slightly rough, but warm.  She didn't want to wake up and face reality, but a voice startled her.

"Melissa.  Up with ye.  A've got food, and yer goin' to eat it.  Now."

"But-"

"Jack."

That single name was very effective.  Melissa opened her eyes, sat up, and took the food.  Her mind was still foggy, even after she finished.

"Drink this," said the woman, holding out a mug.

Melissa took a swallow and felt the foggy curtain tearing.  What is this?  she wondered.

Melissa, when you're home, curled up in a chair eating cookies and reading, you may daydream.  The firm voice of Instructor Devin rang in her mind.  Slip out of reality all you want.  But when you're not at home, you must be on the alert.  No dreaming.  It'll fog your mind, and a good Scout won't let his or her mind fog.  They need it too much.  The gentler voice of Herbalist Chloe followed closely behind.  Lissa, you should be familiar with herbs - especially those that clear the mind.  If you've just struck your head and can't seem to get your mind clear, you must know what to do to get your senses back to where they should be.  Mind clearing herb.  Then the name was there, and she knew what she was drinking.  But Melissa still wasn't sure if she wanted mental clarity.  A fogged mind was just so serene.  More of Instructor Devin's lectures began ringing in her ears.  Melissa's Scout training was firmly ingrained in her.  She finished off the mug without protest.

Her mind was clear now.  Guilt pounced as she realized that she had turned her back on her teachers, her brother, and her God - the three most important things in her life.

"A suppose ye understand the gravity of what ye tried to do?" the woman asked.

Melissa nodded regretfully.

"Mm.  Realize it, repent of it, and put it aside.  Ye don't need to be hauling around unnecessary burdens."

"But I let them all down!" said Melissa.

"Ye've taken the first step.  That's good."

"And I couldn't be more sorry."

"There's the second.  Now set it all aside and go on," the woman said.

"I can't."

"They'll forgive you."

"I can't forgive myself."

"Yes, ye can, if ye put yer mind to it.  Quit moanin' and carryin' on.  Act like the Scout ye are."

"I'm not a Scout yet," said Melissa, a litte defensively.  She wouldn't have normally said this, but it was an escape from responsibility that she didn't want right now.

"Ye're close enough.   Don't use that as an excuse for escaping responsibility that ye don't want right now.  Ye've got to take it sometime, and better now than later."

Melissa eyed her.

"A know A'm tellin' ye things ye don't want to hear, but ye got to.  Melissa, do ye still want to be a Scout?"

"I suppose so.  It was always my dream."

"Then act like a Scout, and don't give up that dream.  Ye got that?"

"Yes."

"Good.  Now, my name's Gilthoniel Dragontongue, and A'm your mentor fer now."

"But I probably need to get back," Melissa protested.

"No, not yet.  Yer in no condition to do so, bein' all mentally shook up as ye are.  Ye need some time to stabilize before ye go back and dive into yer Junior Scouthood.  A can 'elp ye do that, and A'm goin' to."

"But-"

"Don't argue.  It's fer yer own good.  We'll stay at my home fer a few months.  Ye'll be ready to 'ead back by then."

"Alright."