Hey all, back again.
1.) This chapter is up just to get back into the groove of things; I'll probably redo it later. I was gone for a while, and I'll probably disappear once more. I'm way too busy with bigger priorities to focus mainly on this. Fanfiction is a hobby to me, and thus I treat it as so.
2.) Despite my long absence, you guys still reivewed. Thank you very much.
3.) As always, please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors
Commandant's Apprentice
Chapter Ten
10.
Light. Usually it would signal purity and cleanliness; a metaphor for faith and newness. Many would consider light to be the end to all darkness, and the start of a new vitality. However to Nick, its significance was quite a paradox, as his reflexes incoherently whispered one word: hell.
It was blinding. It hurt. And worse, it wouldn't go away. His head felt like small daggers dragging and clawing away at his brain, and his eyes were tender and reflexive.
It wasn't long before he realized that he was on the ground, in the forested areas of the archery fields. But as for the purpose? A searched memory came forth with no answer, only confusion.
"He's awake," the teen heard someone say. The sun's rays were too bright for his sensitive eyesight, and he had absently covered his eyes with the length of his arms. He wondered vastly what was happening, but pain overrode his curiosity for once.
"Wait a second. He's gaining his bearings," another voice commanded. Slowly peeling his arm from his eyes, he realized that the sun wasn't as illuminating as it had been. Perhaps it might have been the cool area of shade the encumbered him, or that his eyes were becoming use to the daily strain once more. Whatever the case was, he could now finally see, and what he saw confused him more than his situation. Five people: Four of them cloaked, the other a moderator; all intently gazing at him.
"He's awake," he heard a young voice triumphantly state.
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," a new voice said, a tad gruffly.
Nick could now see in detail, unlike the vague silhouettes that his mind had processed earlier. The four cloaked ones were the Rangers, including Halt; although instead of the cold, hard look he normally received, this one appeared to concede wonder and curiosity.
"Someone help me get him up," a fairly recognizable voice ordered. As the teen was assisted up and was positioned leaning on a tree. An involuntary pain throbbed about in his wrist. He instinctively raised his arm, and brought his wrist to a new resting position: his lap.
Looking at it more closely, he gathered that it was inflamed. Not only that, it looked deformed, almost warped. It appeared like someone had taken a hammer to the bone, hard enough until the bone broke out of place.
"What the?" he silently whispered. Looking up at the Rangers and moderator, he implied a request for an explanation.
Crowley looked observingly at Nick. In some cases, one would be able to directly see any signs and symptoms of a neurological injury. But in this instance, he saw none in the boy, only confusion and bewilderment, which relieved the old Ranger greatly. Internally, his thoughts had just breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"How do feel?" Crowley asked. Nick looked at the older Ranger, who he'd grown exceptionally fond of that weekend.
"Fine." he replied. Crowley, however, could see the evident pain on the kid
"Anything hurt?"
Nick knew that lying to the Ranger was an unwise move, as he would definitely see through it. No sense in trying to tough it out, he thought.
"My head," he exclaimed, looking up at the forested sky, squinting a little as he did so. Then his glanced back down at his malady. "And my wrist," he added.
Halt leaned forward in his crouched position. "Let me see."
Nick raised his arm, where Halt seized it and began probing at the muscles and tendons at and around it. During the time, he had hit a certain area that caused a great deal of pain for the teen.
"Ow!" Nick quietly yelped.
Instinctively, Halt eased the pressure on his examination. It was definitely broken, but he needed to see to what extent.
Crowley, in turn, had his own list of precautions he needed to get across. "Do you know where you are?" was his first advance.
Of course, the teen thought. "Living Legends," he answered.
Crowley nodded. He's stable, he concluded. "Do you know what day it is?" was his next inquiry
"Saturday."
"Who's our king?"
"King Duncan."
"Country?"
Nick smiled at Crowley. "Araluen; I'm okay Crowley."
Crowley smiled at his young companion, still crouching beside him. "Only checking," he said. "Halt, what's his wrist like?"
"Broken," said the grizzled Ranger. "He'll need to see a healer."
"How bad?" Nick asked. Halt regarded the archer with modesty.
"Bad," he calmly replied. "I'm surprised that you're still able to move it."
Crowley silently regarded Nick. Most people, even grown adults, would howl and whimper in pain upon a broken bone of any sort. And Halt wasn't one to exaggerate about anything, Crowley realized. That meant that Nick's wrist was truly broken; and bad, as Halt had put it. He could tell the boy was in pain based on his flushed appearance, and that he wouldn't be conscious for too much longer.
He had to admit, Crowley had become quite fond of the tall archer as of late. He was extremely athletic, deceptively fast, and was good with a bow. But unlike most athletes his age, he was open to advice, rather than the bold, arrogant teenagers with likewise parents His tracking and perception skills were far beyond what Crowley had seen at that age. If he were to become a Ranger, he noted, rather than learning the whole process of shooting a bow and unseen movement; all the sandy haired commandant needed to do was fine tune and hone his skills; polishing his skills and assets in a typical five year apprenticeship would do a lot more than teaching him the ropes. And with help from Halt, Will, and other Rangers, the boy would become a natural. No, better: a prodigy. He now realized: This was an opportunity he couldn't miss. The boy had all of the three tools needed for the Ranger Corps: speed, silence, intelligence, as well as more.
All he needed was guidance. The boy tended to become unsure of himself at times, and although he appeared confident, which he was, there were still weak spots that needed to be strengthened. All of it comes as a result of growing up without John: his father. Could Crowley be the missing asset of the kid's life? Who was he: a busy old Ranger, to step into someone else's life and guide them? He knew Nick needed an extra sense of guidance, but was he apt to fit the role? Worse, would Kaitlyn let him into that role? Questions had seemed to be the entire theme of the weekend.
Halt saw the man, and could tell that he was obviously deep in thoughts and musings, courtesy of years of friendship. It wasn't like his friend to ponder for too long. The Crowley he knew was quick to develop new ideas and tactics, and he was quite renowned for being able to do so that fast.
"Does this mean I can't go to the Final Battle?" Nick asked, looking intently at Crowley, interrupting his inner thoughts.
Crowley answered Nick, laughing softly. "We'll see. You should really be worrying about what Kaitlyn will have to say about this rather than if you'll be able to play tomorrow."
Halt glanced at Will, who had been watching the whole ordeal with interest. As for the moderator, he had left a little while before, reassured that the injured player was to be fine. "Will, could you take Nick over to grab his belongings? I would like to speak with Crowley privately."
Will nodded, and proceeded to help Nick on his feet, carefully and slowly. Nick stumbled at first, due to vertigo, but he soon regained his footing. He slowly followed the Ranger though the thick forest as Halt watched. Then, when they were out of earshot, he returned his attention to his dearest friend, who had wondered why Halt would want to privately speak to him. There were only a select number of times where Halt would require his attention or insight privately.
"Crowley," Halt began. "I think it's time you tell me what's been on your mind."
The two had been plodding about in the forest for a good ten minutes now, both of them realizing how much bigger the playing field was than their initial perceptions. For the most part, the walk had been silent, but as Nick's conditions were slowly bettering, his curiosity began to flare once more, and an immediate question came to mind.
"Hey. Uh. . . Will?" he asked. The Ranger, no more than four years older than Nick himself, glanced back at the archer. His approach was slightly better than most. Will's legendary status was spreading like wildfire around Araluen, and most people would feel bewildered and inadequate upon speaking to him.
"Yes?"
"What happened? I mean, why was I on the ground?
Will raised an eyebrow, a trait he had copied from Halt. "You mean you don't remember?"
Nick shook his head. "No. I only remember running around in the forest with Crowley. I ran to certain spot, and then woke up leaned against a tree."
Will smiled. "I'm not exactly sure what happened. I was moving myself, when I saw Crowley and Halt crouched around something."
"Oh," Nick replied. A feeling of guilt washed over him now. If he hadn't gotten hurt, Crowley, as well as Halt and Will, would have still been enjoying the adrenaline rush of Living Legends. He had to apologize.
"Sorry Will."
"Sorry? For what?"
"For ruining you and Halt's game."
"Don't be sorry for that," Will explained. "If I'm not mistaken, Halt was the one who shot you in the head. It's not like you could've controlled that."
"Yes, but you guys didn't have to stop for me."
"Well, I'm sure you didn't expect Crowley to run past you saying 'Oh well', did you?"
Nick laughed. "Of course not." He then wondered about the sandy haired Ranger. What did Halt want to talk about? He then shook it off. Chances were that it was some top secret Ranger ordeal. Still, it wouldn't hurt to ask, as Will seemed friendly enough. Also, it kept the dying conversation going.
They had made it back to the entrance pavilion, where Nick sought his bag carrying his belongings. He remained one handed, as the pain in his wrist still meandered along. After packing, the two sat outside at a bench, and enjoyed the weather. The sun was still evident as the sky held very little clouds, but breeze was beginning to come forth, and the afternoon peacefulness began to trigger their fatigue.
"So, what do you think they're talking about?" Nick asked the Ranger.
Will turned to the young archer. He could tell that he was still a little hazy from waking not too long ago. It was only logical, he thought. Nick was most likely still concussed, and would doze deeply the next time he slept. "If you can keep it a secret, they're talking about you."
"Me?" Nick peered at Will intently
"Yes. You should know by now that Crowley wants you as his apprentice."
Nick looked ahead. Some of the eliminated players were beginning to leave, as they saw no point in staying. "I had the notion, but I wasn't sure it was true. How do you know?"
"Crowley was talking to Halt before the match, while you were setting up."
"I never even realized he left." Nick answered.
Will nodded. "Yes, he has quite the reputation for lingering around unnoticed. Anyway, he's having doubts about it. He doesn't think that he's able to do it."
"Why not?"
"It's a typical feeling for Ranger's and their first apprentices. I got Halt to admit that when asking him about Gilan. Halt's probably telling him to lose his doubts."
Nick nodded. Another question, one that haunted him since the beginning of the weekend, came to mind. The timing being right, he asked.
"Will, do you think I could be a Ranger," he asked, staring at the players emerging from the forest. The game must have been near its end.
"Well, Crowley's is obviously interested in you. Shouldn't that be enough?"
"It should. But I just don't think—"
"That you're good enough?" Will now looked at Nick, who glanced back in return.
"Yes," replied Nick, a little awkwardly. It was reassuring yet surprising that Will knew exactly what he was going to say.
"I see," Will said, buying more time to think. Nick obviously wanted to become a Ranger. But he had what many first year apprentices still have: a preset doubt that their master's choice was a mistake. He had had it himself, but it had been quickly dispelled.
"Don't let it bother you. Crowley is picking you for a reason: because he sees potential in you. Don't change yourself to what you think he prefers. Just keep at it and everything should run its course."
Nick regarded Will. It seemed to be a theme that all Rangers were wise. "Are you sure?" he asked.
Will placed an encouraging hand on Nick's shoulder. "Positive. Oh, Hello. There's Crowley and Halt. Let's see what they're up to.
"Okay," Crowley began, signaling to Nick. "Ready to go?"
Nick nodded tiredly. "Yes," he answered, mounting Cobalt, the horse from the castle stable.
"How do you feel?" Crowley asked. He needed constant updates to see if the boy's body was working the way it should.
"Good," Nick replied.
"Good," Crowley began as he mounted Cropper. His face fixed into that of a more serious expression. "Once we get back to the castle, there's something I need to discuss with you.'"
Thanks!
-Invent.