Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters (besides those I made up) nor do I own anything else besides the places (that I might make up) in the story. All of the credit goes to John Flanagan.

Ranger's Apprentice

Chapter 1

A BLONDE, ATTRACTIVE GIRL HUNG MOTIONLESSLY IN THE COLD, HARD CELL. AN OIL LAMP FLASHED THROUGH THE WINDOW AND ILLUMINATED HER FACE FOR A QUANTUM OF TIME. A DROP SPLASHED ON THE STIFF floor of the prison.

He knew it was blood.

"Will," a melodic voice called out. Will groaned. He had gone to sleep two hours before dawn, listening and watching all around him. One time he had heard Horace sneak up on him in the middle of the night after having finished practicing, but Will had gotten the better of him. "Will!" the voice was not the sweet, gentle voice he had heard, but a broad, memorable tone.

Will opened his eyes. In front of him were Horace, Alyss, Jennifer, and George, their eyes fixed on him. Jennifer and Alyss giggled shrilly at Will's rumpled hair. He had never liked sleepovers; being a Ranger, he was more comfortable alone or with Halt, his former Craftmaster, and possibly some of the other Rangers such as Crowley or Berrigan. Will never liked sleepovers was because he would always mutter in his sleep and roll around a little, causing his hair to turn jumbled.

Will got up, brushed his hair, and hid in the corner, covered by his camouflage cloak as he heard footsteps coming down the hall. A young messenger entered, following behind him, three heavily armed guards.

"I'm looking for a Will Treaty?" the messenger asked as he desperately searched the room. The messenger carefully scanned the room, while Horace and his friends chortled among themselves.

Will came out of the shadows as the messenger tried to get a closer look at him. The patterns of the strange, mottling, gray-green cloak confused the eye, along with his swift movement— he was a Ranger.

The five inhabitants paced out of the room, and Horace, Alyss, Jennifer, and George began talking again— this time, about their craft.

At the Great Hall Halt and Crowley were waiting outside. Crowley welcomed him with open arms, while Halt merely raised an eyebrow. A knight— most likely experienced— left the Hall, his face sour.

Halt knocked on the door, the knock echoing through the unordinary and colossal Hall.

The voices inside the room seized, and the carrying voice of Baron Arald echoed through the Hall, "Come in."

Will, Crowley, and Halt each entered the room, one by one. Crowley, as the Commandant of the Ranger Corps, entered first. Then followed Halt, Will's former teacher, and lastly, young Will.

The Baron smiled. "Come in, come in," he laughed. "Don't just stand there— I won't attack you, and neither will any of the guests." He then turned to glance and direct his question to his other guests. "You aren't enemies of the castle are you?"

"No, sir!" they hastily replied.

Baron Arald sighed, and Will knew why. He had done the same thing a few years ago, at the beginning of his apprenticeship. Baron Arald hated when people did not realize he was joking. However, as the lord of the castle, all of his words were taken very seriously.

The Rangers gathered in the middle of the room, waiting to hear the Baron's issues.

Baron Arald began: "I have called you three here today because we have a problem with sorcery and magic." He paused. The Baron then resumed: "The reason I called three Rangers is because this crisis on our hands is not occurring in only location; it is occurring in the Far East, North, and West."

There was a knock on the door.

"Come on in," Baron Arald called, having full knowledge of who was outside the door.

The doors of the Great Hall creaked open as a knight in shining armor walked inside. The "Oakleaf Knight of Gallica"— Horace. Behind him followed a blonde girl dressed elegantly as well as poised— Alyss. Then came the one who smelled very much like that tray of sweetcakes Will had stolen a long time ago, Jennifer. Finally, George came in carrying a quill, some ink, and a few sheets of paper.

Then followed Princess Cassandra.

(A/N: Not much atm... but I'll gradually make the chapters longer. The first chapter is always short...)

Sonín al distpúrr lóso!

May your arrows stay sharp!

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