Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice, nor any of the characters used in this story, nor the plot.
(A/N): This piece was based (heavily!) on the poem "Lenore" by Göttfried August Bürger. Feel free to read the original afterwards (just google it, although it was originally written in German).
He wasn't among the returners.
Alyss knew that, most likely, he would be riding in the back, along the edges, because that was Will's habit as a Ranger. Either that, or he would have been riding with Horace—but the knight had split paths with Will, instead heading to Castle Araluen to report on the skirmish to King Duncan. Will would return with the men Redmont had lent to the effort, and report to Arald.
Except, as the main group of soldiers marched through Wensley, most peeling off for reunions with their family, a short Ranger in the trademark green-grey cloak was nowhere to be seen. And neither was a short grey pony to be seen either.
Alyss pursed her lips, the skin between her eyes crinkling as her worry increased. The few stragglers filed into town, her Ranger still not in sight. Was he trying to surprise her? Did he slip past her, and ride directly to the cabin, not knowing she was waiting? Maybe he had to go to Araluen with Horace to clear something up?
Seeing a solider that she was vaguely familiar with in the crowd, Alyss pushed forward, moving between the thin crowd of people that surrounded the returning column of men. "Henry," she said, grabbing his arm as he moved past her.
"Lady Alyss? It's good to see you," he said, smiling. There was a white bandage wrapped around his head, a small bloodstain marring the corner of it near his left ear. "Can I help you with something?"
"Where's Will?" she asked, looking over his shoulder, knowing what she was supposed to be seeing—but finding it missing. "I thought he was supposed to return with you?"
Confusion clouded Henry's face. "I'm sorry, Lady, but I wasn't even aware that Will came along with us. The few Rangers that did were kept busy, and we barely saw them. If anyone would know, it would be Sir Horace."
"Horace is in Araluen," Alyss sighed, looking back down the road. "Thank you, Henry. Sorry, you're probably searching for your own family."
Henry grinned, "Actually, dear Lady, my wife took the children to her mother's while I was gone, so they won't be back 'till tomorrow morning. And I'm always glad to help." The moment he finished his sentence, another solider from the passersby reached out and grabbed his sleeve, yanking him away from the courier. "See you around, Lady Alyss!" he called down the street, laughing.
Alyss waved goodbye to him, already distracted by the empty road in the other direction.
Somehow, she knew, Will wouldn't be coming up that road, nor would he meet her at the cabin. Maybe it was how the wind blew leaves on the path, emphasizing the emptiness and somberness of the scene, or maybe it was how the loud cheers and celebrations of the townspeople slowly died away as they all left her behind—but at that moment, all she felt was loneliness.
Footsteps crunched the gravel behind her, and Alyss spun, hoping that her feelings had been wrong, and that Will had been playing some cruel joke on her.
Instead, her mentor stepped forward with her husband, his own cloak discarded for the fair autumn weather.
"Has Will not arrived?" Halt asked, confusion written across his face. The older Ranger had remained in Redmont, due to it being such a large and important fief, and there being two Rangers. Will being the youngest, had gone along with Horace to investigate and defend the country.
Pauline took Halt's hand in both of her's, watching Alyss' face.
"I . . . I don't know." The young courier murmured, barely loud enough for Halt or Pauline to hear. "Will told me himself, that he would be riding at the back and meet me by the old maple," she waved to the large tree she was standing under, it's orange leaves blowing in the wind.
"Who's that?" Halt said, motioning down the road that had previously been empty. Alyss spun, thinking Will was late or had been caught up in something—but it was another knight, this one unrecognizable. It explained why Halt had only asked who it was, and not pointing out that they were worrying for nothing because the young Ranger was coming up the road. No, instead he had asked who it was, once more dooming Will to the missings persons list. Alyss gulped, soon realizing what could have befallen her fiancé.
The trio waited silently for the man to pass by, wondering what he was there for. For a moment, it looked as if he were heading to the castle, but he paused, and considered a sheet he was holding with the reins of his horse. He once more looked up, and caught sight of their group. The man seemed to consider his actions for a moment, before kicking his horse forward, towards them. A lone knight traveling could have meant many things, and normally Alyss was willing to help . . . but she felt a slight shiver of apprehension at seeing this particular knight, just after seeing the train of returning soldiers without her fiancé.
The man pulled his horse to a stop in front of the trio. "Excuse me," he said politely. His northern accent was evident, his ill comfort noticeable. "But do any of you know where I can find a Lady Alyss Mainwaring?"
Alyss' heart nearly stopped, her lungs stopped breathing. Something's happened to him.
Pauline tapped the small of Alyss' back, stepping forward besides Alyss and smiling up at the man. "This is her, actually," Pauline stated, releasing Halt's hand, and her opposite arm going around Alyss' shoulders. To comfort or support, Alyss couldn't decide.
"Yes," Alyss' mind caught up with the present, and she stepped forward, slipping out of Pauline's grasp. Her mentor's thin arm was suddenly stifling, as if witholding her from something or mocking her. "I'm Alyss Mainwaring."
Relief flooded the man's face, and he dropped his horse's reins. Folding up the paper, he tucked it into his shirt—before falling still, and his eyes suddenly not able to met her's, despite being so forthcoming before. "I—uh, I guess I'm supposed to bring news to you? Of someone named Mr. Will?"
"His first name is Will, but yes, what about him?" Alyss exchanged a glance with Pauline, both of them noticing that he didn't look like he was preparing himself to bring news of a death. But if not a death, than what?
"Well . . ." he seemed to hesitate, not meeting Alyss' eyes. "Well, there's really only one way to say this," he said, sighing, "Will was out surveying, and he didn't come back. A few other Rangers went searching, but there was no sign of him or his horse, not even footprints. I'm sorry, but we don't know what happened to him, Miss. He was just gone." The knight apologized once more, before awkwardly turning his horse in the direction of the revelry, and the nearest inn.
She silently watched him go.
"Honey," Pauline tried wrapping her arm around Alyss' shoulders once more, "he's missing, not de—"
Her anger flared, and Alyss roughly shrugged Pauline's arm off her shoulders. "Gone is gone, Pauline," she snapped, hugging her arms close to herself. "Gone is gone," she repeated more or less to herself, before walking away from Pauline and Halt. She threw back her shoulder's in defiance—if only to prove to them that she wasn't crying, despite the fact that she was.
The bed was cold where Will normally lay.
In the months that he had been gone, she had grown used to having the full bed to herself, and the cold hadn't bothered her. But this night, the first night absolutely and utterly by herself, the coldness seemed to increase. It kept her up far pass the time the moon went down, deep into the early hours of the morning.
Not being able to get comfortable, the courier roughly pushed back the covers, and swung her legs around the edge of the bed, considering going out into the main living room, and stoking the fire. At least it would be warmer on one of the chairs, if not more comfortable.
The night, always so eerie at night, was triplefold more with the coldness that seemed to be seeping through the walls of the cabin. Without Will, Alyss realized, she hated this cabin. It was too isolated, too quiet, too dark. She hated it. Without Will, she hated her own home. Was it still home, if she hated it?
And then the silence was broken.
It sounded like someone was knocking on the door, but too far away to be her door. Plus, no one would knock for that long, and in the same candence every time. A bird then, like a woodpecker? But while consistent, it wasn't so consistent that it would be a woodpecker. No, the beats were spaced or shoved together. Could the roof have a leak? That would just be another reason for her to hate this cabin, being so old and run-down. Will would have normally been around to fix any problems.
Either way, a leak wouldn't be increasing in volume.
Hoofbeats. That's what it was—hoofbeats on the soft ground, instead of cobblestones. A rider was in the woods . . . heading for her cabin.
Alyss slowly stood, the cool wood stinging her feet. Ever so carefully, she stepped around the bed, moving towards the door like a shadow, barely making any sound. She wasn't as skilled as a Ranger, but Will had given her a few pointers on moving silently. A stab of pain made her stride falter, remembering Will's hands in hers as he tried to show her something that came insticually to him.
The bedroom door had been left open a crack, and creaked as she opened it.
Hearing the beats getting closer, she abandoned all caution and rushed to the front window. The curtains had been left partially open, so she stood to the side, and watched as a shadowy figure swung off their horse, and rushed up the steps—silently.
They banged on the door, at an odd angle to her. She couldn't see their face.
"Alyss! Alyss, you in there?" They shouted, looking at the door and over to the window. They didn't see her face, as they continued to bang on the door with their outstretched fist. "Please, Alyss, wake up!"
As if in a daze, the courier stepped back from the window, bumping into an armchair and causing the wooden bottom to scrape against the flooring. "Will?" She whispered to herself, tears forming in her eyes.
The banging increased. "Alyss!" They yelled, "Alyss, please, we need to hurry! We don't have that much time, please! I know you're in there, I know you can hear me! Please, I'm sorry I didn't meet you this morning, there was an emergency! Alyss, please."
She rushed away from the front door, pushing into the bedroom and stumbling in front of her dresser. Pulling open the top drawer, she quickly riffled through it until she found a suitable pair of trousers, pulling them on underneath her nightdress. She could hear more banging and yelling from Will outside, but she didn't answer. Not just yet. Taking off her nightdress, she tossed it to the side as she picked up another garment—an old shirt, one Will would wear to bed had she not taken it from him before he went away. The courier pulled that over her head, even as a hand was reaching for socks. After pulling those on, she snatched her boots from the corner of the dresser, and rushed back out into the room.
"Will?" She called, stumbling into her boots. Not bothering to tie them, she stumbled to the door, her hand on the latch so she could open it and fall into his warm, warm arms.
Something made her pause.
Don't open the door, her conscience told her, it's not him.
But she had eventually seen his face, and it was him, she countered with herself, so why shouldn't she open it?
He has his own key, her conscience pointed out, so why does he need you to open the door for him?
Should it matter? It was Will, he wouldn't hurt her. Throwing all caution to the wind, she pulled open the door, right as Will raised his fist to start banging again.
"Alyss!" he took a step back, his face flushed from the chill outside and the wind that was whipping. His hair was messy from riding Tug, who was stomping his feet in the clearing, and his eyes were bright with excitement. His cloak was nowhere to be seen.
"Will," she breathed, feeling relief flood through her. He wasn't dead. He wasn't gone.
She stepped forward, her body crossing the threshold of the cabin, and fell into Will's outstretched arms, reveling in his warmth.
He held her tight, arms across her back, face pressed into her shoulder.
"We have to go, Alyss," he whispered, pulling back. "I messed up, we have to get to Caraway by tomorrow morning."
"Both of us?" she asked, incredulous. "And why Caraway? What happened?"
Will looked warily over his shoulder before turning back to her, "I can't explain right now, but possibly on the way," he took her hand, and started to tugging her down the steps. As an after-thought, she shut the door behind her, reasoning that no one would be stupid enough to rob from the Ranger's cabin in Redmont. "We have to get going, though," he emphasized by squeezing her hand and looking back at her as they walked to Tug.
Without another word, he swung up onto Tug's back, and she was forced to swing up behind him or be pulled up. He didn't even bother to grab the reins before Tug shot off into the woods, completely foregoing the path that she had assumed they had come on.
Branches whipped her face as they flew by trees, forcing her to duck down and flatten her face to Will's back. Alyss shut her eyes, her mind still trying to catch up with what happened.
Will had gone missing. A messenger had been sent to say that. They presumed him dead. He comes home in the middle of the night. He says he's in trouble in Caraway, in the exact opposite direction he had been.
Silence causes her to look up, still staying low to keep out of the way of the branches. But there were no more branches. They were already out of the woods, galloping on the far side, in the direction of Caraway. Alyss glanced behind them, watching as the forest receded behind Tug's flying hooves.
Eventually, Will got them back to the path, which they continued to fly across. As late as it was, there were still plenty of people on the road, including the knight that had originally told Alyss of Will's disappearance. He seemed to be on his way back to Redmont, sadness in his eyes.
As she and Will flew by the knight, he looked up, and they made eye contact. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could say anything, he was left in the dust.
Next they passed by a funeral congregation. Alyss' eyes widened at this, wondering why the hell they would be having it in the middle of the night. A harsh sound was being chanted, but they weren't near long enough for Alyss to figure out what they were saying.
Long before they were even close to Caraway, Tug skidded to a stop, and trotted off the side of the path. Will, facing away from her, said nothing.
"Will?" Alyss leaned forward, trying to catch his gaze. But Will didn't remove his eyes from whatever he was staring at.
"Nearly there," he said quietly, pointing to an iron gate that could barely be seen in the tangles of the forest they had entered. It was nearly as bad as Grimsdell Woods, up north with Malcolm. "Can you open it? I need to make sure Tug is okay." He swung down from the saddle, already pulling the pail from his bag for water.
Alyss quickly dismounted, seeing how heavy Tug's breathing was. "Well, why were we going so fast?" Moving forward, the courier studied the gate looking for a lock or latch, or at least a way to open it. "It wasn't necessary to push him so hard with both of us on his back." She turned to face the Ranger, but had to look away. The sun had just come up from behind him, silhouetting him.
Will didn't look up. "We needed to get here before sunrise." He looked behind himself, seeing the sun. "And we were just in time."
Turning back to the gate, Alyss finally saw the latch buried underneath some of the ivy, and pulled the gate open.
Will had taken her to a graveyard.
It was old, the stones crumbling and the words no longer legible. If the graves hadn't been swallowed back up by nature, then they were severely desecrated, expensive paint thrown on the stones and rude, explicit words written down them.
"What happened here?" she said quietly, despair evident in her voice. Without the paint, it would have been a picturesque, serene getaway.
Alyss froze, her feet on the edges of a perfectly dug, six-foot-deep hole. There was a body within—fresh. Still bleeding.
She stumbled back, recognizing the face, and landed right in Will's arms.
Except it wasn't Will.
It had never been Will.
Because Will's body was already six feet underground, his head decapitated and placed beside his mutilated body, just in front of Alyss.
Alyss spun.
As soon as her eyes landed on the man that had brought her here, a wicked grin spread across his face, eyes glinting black in the light. His skin seemingly started to melt off him, dropping off his face. Blood poured from the eyes and mouth, even as skin and flesh peeled from the bone, leaving the skull grinning at her, the eyes deep and blank, the mouth wide and white.
Tug was no longer waiting at the entrance. And the skeleton thing blocked the exit.
The man's clothes were no longer similar to her fiancé's, but was instead a blackish robe. In his bone hand, a scythe with a man-tall staff was gripped.
It was a picture of Death.
And that's because that was exactly what he was.