A/N: Inspired by a film on urban legends, which contained the Candy Man. I own no one. If there are any grammatical errors, please let me know; I typed this on my phone, and while I read over it, I'm sure something escaped correcting.
The wards always spoke in hushed tones about the Ranger who lived in the forest. Their vivid imaginations had turned the rather small figure into a massive demon, with horrific fangs and claws that would drag them out of their beds if they misbehaved. When Halloween came around, the legends surrounding the Ranger became darker.
Eight-year-old Will sat on a chair in the common room of the orphanage and leaned in as Horace spoke in a voice barely above a whisper of the monster the Ranger became on Halloween night. He suspected the story was designed to scare him, and while he was scared, he was determined to not show anything but interest in the tale. "And they say," Horace continued, "that if he catches you outside just before midnight, he'll offer you sweets." Here he paused to look his audience in the eyes. "But this won't be normal sweets." He dropped his voice to a complete whisper, forcing the other children to lean in further to hear him. "They'll be poisoned sweets. You'll start throwing up and you won't be able to stop until you throw up all your organs."
Jenny gasped and Alyss frowned at the image. George had left the room early in the story. Will doubted the part about throwing up your organs, but he was inclined to believe that there was something sinister about the Ranger. He'd seen the Ranger appear and disappear in broad daylight, seem him walk without making a sound. Who knew what the dark figure was capable of?
Marcy, the woman in charge of the orphanage, poked her head into room and told the children to get to bed. She called Horace aside, and Will suspected it had something to do with scaring George. As the boys got ready for bed, George asked, "He won't come for us, will he?" Horace laughed, but Will reminded George that they would need to be outside near midnight for the Ranger to catch them. Will was disinclined to believe the story - he'd never heard anything about the Ranger harming anyone in such a manner; it was all rumors. But as the trees rattled lazily in the chilly breeze, Will shuddered and hastened under the covers of his bed. He pulled the covers over his head and turned his back on the shuttered window, shutting his eyes tightly.
A loud banging woke him. Will sat up in bed and looked fearfully at the window. The banging came again, this time clearly in the room. George had woken as well and exchanged a fearful glance with Will. It didn't occur to either of them that Horace wasn't in his bed. Horace had led them to believe they would be safe inside, but the sound of something heavy being dragged toward them spurred the boys out of the room. George ran toward Marcy's room, but Will unthinkingly ran outside. He'd always sought shelter in the large tree in the courtyard when Horace harassed him, so he figured he'd be safe from the thing in the room outside. Had he not been so scared, he would have heard Horace laughing and Marcy scolding him fiercely. It was at the base of the tree that Will realized his mistake. He was outside and assumed it was near midnight. The Ranger would be searching for children, he knew, but the thing in boys' room made him scared to go back inside. So he turned from the tree and ran toward the kitchens.
Halfway there, he slammed into someone. As Will lost his balance with the sudden impact, he heard a low grunt and muffled cursing in a foreign language from the shadowy figure. Will's heart stopped as he recognized the cloaked figure as the Ranger. He babbled his pleas to the Ranger, begging him not to steal him away or poison him. Will sobbed in abject terror as the Ranger crouched before him and pushed back the cowl of his cloak. The half-moon cast deep shadows on his face, but Will saw no malice in the dark eyes studying him. The Ranger made no move to grab Will not offered him any candy. He kept his hands where Will could see them. "Listen to me," the Ranger said in a soft voice. "I have no interest in taking you or poisoning you." He then rose and offered a hand to Will. Accepting the Ranger's help, Will was quite shocked to realized that the Ranger was no massive demon. "Back to bed with you before someone else catches you." At that, Will took off for the orphanage at a dead run.
Marcy greeted him warmly, knowing that any reprimand would be lost on the boy. She hugged him and assured him that everything would be okay. She wanted to tell him that the Ranger wouldn't hurt him, but even she didn't know what powers the man might have.
Having made his report to the Baron concerning the thefts in the village, Halt was looking forward to the seclusion and privacy of his cabin. As far as Halloween nights went, this night was quite pleasant. A gentle breeze stirred the trees and kept the sky clear. As Halt made his way toward the castle gates, a sudden rush of footsteps caused him to turn and he cursed his lapse in attention as a small figure slammed into him at a sprint. He grunted and swore in Gallican, a habit he had had for as long as he could remember. Recovering, he studied the boy on the ground a few feet away. It was Will, he realized, with some shock. Will cowered at his feet and babbled tearfully, begging Halt to not capture him or poison him or do something else terrible. Halt made a note to speak to the Baron about some of these legends that surrounded him and knelt before Will. He pushed his cowl back and made sure he kept his hands in plain sight. He spoke softly, suppressing as much of his accent as he could, and told Will that he had no intention of harming the boy. Helping Will to his feet, Halt couldn't help one last comment: "Back to bed with you before someone else catches you." While he was referring to the Baron, Halt knew Will's imagination would send him running back to the Ward.
Halt turned toward the gate once more and mentally reviewed the numerous legends that surrounded him. Most of them didn't bother him; most of them, such as the ones that kept the townspeople wary and respectful of him, were even useful. If the people believed him to be a dark sorcerer, they'd be less likely to withhold information or get in his way. The only ones that bothered him dealt with children. While Halt wasn't fond of children, he would never hurt them. He didn't know what Baron Arald would be able to do about the legends that painted Halt as a child-killing monster, but he hoped that the Baron, whom Halt believed understood children better, would have some ideas.