OK, first off, this story was my own idea. I didn't take it from anybody else, though I admit that one of my friends inspired this. Anyway, as I have only seen one specific story on Gilan's apprenticeship, here's this story for ya! ;D
Fourteen-year-old Gilan Dalamar, son of Battlemaster David of Caraway Fief, was not in a good mood.
He swung his sword wildly at the nearest gnarled root and, when it refused to be sliced through, savagely hacked at the stubborn thing, feeling a fierce sense of satisfaction as he saw it fall apart.
"Are you alright?"
He jumped at the unexpected question, still breathing hard over his exertion with the stubborn root. He whirled around and saw his younger sister, Meralyn, standing there.
"I'm as fine as can be expected after a tortuous four hours with that guy," he growled. Instantly, he regretted saying the words when he saw her hurt expression.
"Sorry," he said gently, coming over to her and hugging her. She smiled warmly up at him, the awkward moment over.
"Hey, the Ranger Halt's visiting Father again. Just wanted to let you know." She grinned and took off running, ten meters away before Gilan came to his senses and chased after her. Good old Meralyn, he thought fondly. Always the same.
Unfortunately, the mysterious Ranger was already gone by the time the two children reached their father's private apartments. Gilan refused to be put off, though, and repeatedly questioned his father as to the Ranger's whereabouts until finally, reluctantly, he gave in.
"He went into the forest. Apparently he's resting for his noonday meal right now," Sir David told his impatient son. "But you'd better hurry-he said he needed to return to Redmont as quickly as possible."
Gilan was out the door before his father had even finished. The Battlemaster grinned at his daughter. "Go on then, Meralyn. Keep him out of trouble."
She grinned as well and took off after her older brother. Sir David shook his head, still smiling. They would be in for an unpleasant surprise...
Meanwhile, Gilan glared at the trees around him in frustration. "I've lost the trail! And just when I thought I could follow his tracks!"
Up until then, there had been telltale hints of the Ranger's presence. Cloth stuck in the bushes, crumpled twigs leading down one path, and one time a broken arrow shaft pointing towards more clues.
But in this little clearing, Gilan could see no sign of the Ranger. He'd looked everywhere: left, right, down, the tree roots, the rocks, the bushes, the flowers-
Up! He hadn't thought to look up! Quickly, he scrambled up the nearest tree and peered in all the directions, all of them, this time, even looking farther up into the tree. He still couldn't see any sign of the Ranger, but that was because all of the nearby trees were blocking his view. Carefully, he sat down on the branch he'd clambered up on, slid down so that he was left hanging by his arms, then reached for the next branch and climbed up on it.
There he was, sitting by that small stream. Gilan called it the Bubbly One, and in nearly all instances, that was exactly what it was; Gilan could never quite imagine how all those rocks managed to retain their seat in the rapids.
But the Ranger was sitting next to a slower, gentler part of the stream, and that emboldened him enough to quietly sneak up on the Ranger, for what reason Gilan had no real idea. Maybe, just maybe, if he showed enough skill at stealth and secrecy like all the Rangers could, Halt would take pity on him and let him be his apprentice, if only to get away from the horrendous protocol and discipline expected of him all day, every day!
A grunt brought his attention back to the present. The Ranger had settled down to eat, taking a water canteen and some dry, hard bread out of his pack.
Gilan hardly dared to breathe, inching his way closer ever so slowly, keeping his eyes locked on the Ranger just in case.
It was as well Gilan showed such extreme caution. Halt stiffened, seeming to have heard something, and his eagle eyes keenly scanned his surroundings, finally stopping on the very tree Gilan stood behind. The boy froze, his gaze locked on Halt, heart pounding in his chest as he hoped that Halt would soon turn away and go back to his meal.
After what seemed like an hour but what was in reality twenty seconds, Halt turned away, then immediately whipped around again, staring at the shadows where the boy hid. Gilan still kept frozen, paralyzed in both fear and some apprehension as to what would happen if the Ranger caught him. Halt eventually grunted and settled back down to finish his meal.
Gilan slowly eased himself into a crouch and cautiously moved forward, moving his feet with extreme care and always staring right at Halt, looking for any sign of suspicion. But the Ranger sighed and slouched over more comfortably, chewing slowly on the dry, brittle food. Gilan heaved a silent sigh of relief. He was only fifteen meters away from Halt now. Ten meters...five...
Just as Gilan was reaching for the pack behind the Ranger, Halt suddenly turned, grabbed Gilan by the scruff of his neck, then sent him flying into the nearby stream!
Gilan hit the water with a smack! and he instinctively pulled his way up from the bottom. His head broke the surface and, gasping for breath, he dragged himself up from the water's edge, soaked to the bone and humiliated. Partly because of his failure, when he had been so close to success.
But mostly because he saw his younger sister staring at him from the cover of the trees some thirty meters away, eyes wide-whether from fear or laughter, Gilan couldn't tell. He did know, however, that she had just seen him make a rather big mistake, in front of his own personal hero.
And that was something that Gilan, no matter how loving of his sister he might be, would never stand for.
He drew breath to berate her for following him into the forest, then stopped as he realized that she was already gone. Running back to tell Father of his failure attempt to skip Swordsmanship Practice, no doubt, Gilan thought, disgruntled.
But a low, deep voice interrupted his thoughts and immediately brought him back to the present.
"Thought you might try something like this," the Ranger said, grasping Gilan's wrist, forcing the boy to look into his eyes. Gilan shuffled his feet uncomfortably.
"What do you have to say for yourself, boy?"
Inevitably, the light brown eyes slid away, as Halt had expected. But what he didn't foresee was the boy's answer.
"I want to get away from all the Battleschool practicing!" Gilan cried, trying and failing to break free from the Ranger's iron grip. "It was stupid trying to sneak up on you, but I wanted to-" He stopped abruptly. What could he say? He'd been trying to prove himself by attempting to take some of the Ranger's belongings, and then get caught and humiliated in front of his little sister?
Now, he felt a horrible sense of impending doom as he awaited the punishment detail the Ranger would inevitably force on him.
But surprisingly, the Ranger continued in a milder tone, "You know, you're not half bad at unseen movement. Care to see how I do it?"
Gilan nodded quickly, not at all sure that this wasn't some sort of trick, that the Ranger might not just be leading him on. But as he watched, he gasped.
Halt seemed to melt away into the shadows of the trees as their branches moved with the wind. He merged with its seemingly random patterns, soundlessly walking around the clearing. Gilan gave up trying to see him after several seconds. The boy started as Halt suddenly seemed to rise out of the ground next to him.
"How d'you do that?" he asked.
Halt looked at him. "Practice."
"Can I try?" Gilan asked, hopping from one foot to the other as he waited for Halt's words.
"All right then. Go ahead," the Ranger said, gesturing the boy forward.
Gilan hesitated, then came to a decision and, after studying the wind patterns and the movement of the shadows, darted into the nearest one and rolled instinctively to break his fall. Lying low on the ground to make it more difficult to be seen, he propelled himself forward with his elbows and knees, moving slowly so that his movements were harder to focus on. As the shadows moved, he would follow them, looking like one more rippling patch of darkness to the untrained eye.
Almost silently, Gilan crept around the clearing, moving in a circle until he saw that Halt's back was turned towards him. Slowly, he rose into a crouch, shuffling forward ever so carefully, about to take the Ranger by surprise...
...When he suddenly turned around and grabbed Gilan's wrist, a faint hint of sardonic humor dancing in his eyes. He said quietly, "That was good, boy. But not good enough to deceive a senior Ranger who's been in the business for over fifteen years." Then, seeing Gilan's forlorn expression, he added, "However, there may be some hope for you yet. Let's get started."
For the next several days, the Ranger instructed Gilan in the arts of unseen and unheard movement, as well as how to do basic tracking and how to handle a bow. At the end of each day, Gilan was sweaty and tired from the intense work the Ranger had given him. But he didn't mind. Anything to delay his return to that Battleschool was fine with him.
On Saturday, though, Halt didn't force him to brew the coffee, or water and feed Abelard-the Ranger's horse-or even shoot ten rapid sets of arrows into the nearby tree trunks.
The Ranger led Gilan away from their tent to a place near the stream where it became more wild. All at once Gilan sensed that, whatever Halt was planning to tell him, it was certain to be important.
"Do you want to continue training like this?"
"Oh, yes, please! It's so much better than all that protocol and noble behavior back at the Castle," Gilan snorted derisively. "Learning how to use the sword is cool, but not when there's an angry, strict man forever yelling at your face about-" He stopped awkwardly. He couldn't be sure that one of the other boys learning under the Swordmaster wasn't listening in on their conversation right now. The other boys were always spiteful enough to report on him, he knew. Several years back, he'd learned that the hard way.
Halt, recognizing the inner turmoil of the boy in his own youth, suddenly felt a gruff sympathy for the boy. He knew exactly what Gilan was talking about. When his own brother had-
Stop it, he told himself angrily. Don't even think about what happened back then.
Halt seemed to shake his bitter thoughts away, then turned back to the anxious boy in front of him.
"Perhaps," the Ranger said slowly, "we can make an arrangement with the Swordmaster..."
Wow! That was the longest chapter I have ever written, which is saying something. XD
Still, hope you enjoyed! I'd like to hear your guys' thoughts on whether to limit this to just working out a plan with the Swordmaster or Gilan going on an adventure or something.
Now I have to update Dear Friend, so bye for now! :D