He watched.
He couldn't do anything but watch, stand in horror as he saw that arrow head straight for Will, aiming straight for his heart. His bow slipped out of his hands, landing inaudibly amongst the wild grass. He was utterly defenceless, completely incapable of protecting himself. Somewhere in his mind, he dimly recognized that there was still one last bowman out there, who still had a bow and who would most certainly aim for him now, but he couldn't care less.
All he cared about was what was in front of him. Yet, all he could do was to stand there, stand and watch in numb horror. He couldn't find his voice – couldn't shout to warn Will about the impending danger. He could only watch as the arrow entered Will's body, almost seemingly in slow motion.
Will staggered, or maybe it was the force from the arrow that made him stagger. He didn't know which was which, having never experienced it before. He could see the puzzlement in Will's face, the way his apprentice tried to look behind, to see what had caused the sudden flare of pain – he had taken so many lives that way, he knew what to expect. And – now, it seemed like he was reaping what he sowed… Will was –
"No!"
The word burst out, cutting through the air and silencing whatever birdsong that had started after the fierce battle. He saw Will's legs giving way, sending him crumpling to the floor. He saw the motion stopped as a huge, bear-like figure flashed across his field of vision and supported Will just in time, before he collapsed on the ground.
He always knew that Horace was someone who could be counted on to keep his cool and composure during fights as small as raids or as big as battles. He never saw this part of Horace, this part that was tenderly cradling Will in his arms, yet screaming at him to come back.
"Will!"
Horace's voice cracked. Tears were streaming from his eyes, his face a grotesque mask of pain and anguish, as he screamed his best friend's name over and over again, shaking him, doing anything - anything – to get Will back, but failing. From the moment Horace got to him, though, he knew that anything Horace wanted to do would fail. Will's body was too limp, wasn't responding the way it should.
And yet, he watched.
He couldn't do anything else. His legs were no longer under his command; he couldn't walk, even if he had wanted to. They were wooden. His entire body was wooden. He couldn't move. He wasn't even sure if he was breathing.
He could only watch – watch as his apprentice, his son, his adopted son, danced away with death to another place where he could not follow. But no – Will could not, he has to go first, Will was an apprentice for a reason – he himself must go first, that was what good teachers did, but for the life of him he could not find out how to move his legs. His mind was screaming at him, yelling at him to just move, but he could not – he did not remember what it was like to move, not when his son was dying – was –
"Will!"
Horace's voice seared through his thinking, the anguish and terror and fear and pain clear in the scream. And it seemed like this was the last scream Horace could make, because the next time he tried, his mouth was moving, but it was soundlessly as Horace continued to call for Will, for his best friend to return, even though the warrior's voice had long deserted him.
A/N: Hi guys!
So this is my second story so far, I hope you guys enjoyed it :D I'm sorry if a lot of things don't make sense though, like all the 'he's (this is from Halt's POV btw, so most of the 'he's is about Halt) because I'm really, really hungry now and sleepy and I tend to be illogical when I'm both hungry and tired.
So I'm really sorry if my writing is atrocious and everything and if you have any suggestions to make on how I can improve my writing please do leave a review okay! :D constructive criticisms are much appreciated ^^
Thanks & goodnight!
/ oh and for anyone who wants to know, the plot was basically that the three of them were ambushed by random bandits but they managed to kill off the thieves, except for this one bowman who had hidden in the long grass and shot down Will before being killed himself by Horace. /