Disclaimer: I don't own Ranger's Apprentice or any of its characters

THIS IS THE EDITED VERSION OF CHAPTER 25!

Sorry, this is a bit more than nine days but I remembered that my friend's birthday was Saturday and I ended up staying overnight until today soo...yea. I plan to update a lot this week if I can though.

Also, could you please vote on my poll on my profile?

Crowley looked around the room again. The footsteps were growing louder fast and there weren't any sufficient places to hide. Now the footsteps were almost directly outside the door. Making up his mind quickly, Crowley dove towards the fireplace on his right. By the time the footstep's owners were fiddling with the lock to the door, Crowley was squished into the corner of the large fireplace. He heard the door crash back on its hinges but was too busy searching for something above him to care. A hole went up from the fireplace, acting as a chimney of sorts. The Ranger quickly scrambled up the hole, using the rough stone for handholds. His feet were just disappearing when he heard men get close to the empty hearth.

"I don't see him," a deep voice said. Crowley held his breath and clung tighter onto the stones. He felt his already scraped hands start to bleed again.

"Well I know he's here," another voice said. "I saw him climb into the window myself!"

"Ever think he might have already left?" yet another man answered a bit sarcastically. "Let's check the other rooms." With that, the commandant heard clanging as the knights rushed out the door. He waited a few seconds after the door slammed shut before he dared move again.

Crowley, knowing what to do, moved so he would be facing the back of the fireplace if he fell out of the chimney. He swung his feet forward from the solid wall and instead of them hitting the stone that surrounded him; they went through a doorway of sorts. He shoved forward so the rest of him caught up with his feet and he was standing at the foot of a steep set of stairs. This was where he froze. Memories flashed by in his mind of Feller shoving him through the entrance and proceeding to drag him up the stairs. Or of him crawling down the steps, beaten and only half conscious. And even of him having to climb into the entry when Feller had a fire burning below him. The commandant took a deep breath and forced the thoughts away.

"It's not going to happen this time," he assured himself quietly. He knew it was pointless to be afraid of the room; it was just a room after all. The only thing that made him fear it was what had happened in the room.

Quickly he jogged up the stairs, eager to get the job done with. Quite a few times he stumbled due to the lack of light and the oldness of the stairs themselves. The stairs went up in sets. He would climb twelve steps and then they would change direction so it was a square spiral. Eventually he reached the top where a door was set into the wall. The stairs went up no further. The commandant had to take another deep breath to calm his racing heart.

"Just a room," he said as he reached for the door handle.

The door swung open creakily and he stepped into the chamber. It was just as he remembered it. Damp, dim and altogether unpleasant. He looked up at the small window placed high above him and saw that there was barely any light left in the sky. He looked across from the door and felt the memories start to flood back. Most were of him being whipped and beaten by his father and he fought to shove them away. It took a few minutes but eventually he was able to move on. Still uncomfortable, Crowley closed the door behind him and turned to look at it. The whip that had caused him so much pain hung coiled on a hook. Behind the whip was what he had come for; a flat pouch. His father had always had it there. One time, when Feller had finished a beating, Crowley had dared look inside it. What he had seen were a bunch of letters between Feller and some countries that had been enemies to Araluen. Feller had beaten Crowley to near death when he caught him. Now Crowley realized that Feller had always been a murderer and the thought that they were related unsettled him.

The commandant took another deep breath and reached for the whip. His hand clasped around it and he immediately jerked back. Something had pricked him and he looked at the switch closer. There were little barbs on the length of it. He frowned and felt anger boiling inside him. This was what his father had used to torture him. It was bad enough using a regular whip but using a device like this was close to inhumanity. Crowley clenched his teeth and felt his anger spill over. He grabbed the whip, not caring about the many cuts it gave him, and threw it across the room so it smacked the wall. Crowley looked at it with pain in his eyes and felt something come across him. He walked to where it lay on the floor and studied its surroundings. Dried blood was on the cold ground and he knew it was his. The commandant's breathing sped up again and before he knew it, he was caught up in the memories.

He cowered against the hard wall behind him. It was the only thing he could do. The hand of his father raised and came down upon him in rapid blows that caused pain to flood him. There was nothing he could do to stop the vicious beating; he was merely eight and didn't know what was really happening. The last thing he could recall before Feller had dragged him into the mysterious room was mentioning how he'd like to be a Ranger one day. Feller had promptly grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and brought him here where the pain never seemed to end. He whimpered as his father's fist slammed into his ribs; tears began to run down his face in a stream but he fought back his sobs. At least, he did until the fist hit his nose. A torrent of blood came out and streamed down his face.

A twelve year old Crowley was slammed into the wall as Feller held him there by his neck. The boy was barely able to get any air and was beginning to fear what was happening. Feller angrily threw Crowley to the ground where he stayed, trying to get air into his empty lungs. When he had regained enough air, Crowley went to stand but he stopped as a searing pain came across his chest. He cried out in pain and felt blood running down his front out of his clothes. Again he felt the terrible pain, this time across his face. Whatever was hurting him nearly hit his eye. It continued and with each new agony came another cry. There was a pause in the torture and Crowley's clenched eyes opened slightly and through the tears he saw something that terrified him. Feller was standing before him with a whip raised for another attack.

"No!" Crowley roared as his eyes flew open. Cold sweat drenched him and he was shaking uncontrollably. Tears stained his face and his voice was unstable. "N…no," he said softly.

After a few minutes, he had himself under enough control to stand though he was still drenched in sweat and he didn't bother to stop his tears. When he had stood, he looked down to the whip that lay below him. Angrily, he kicked it away from him. It held too much misery for him to be near. The commandant walked to the door and grabbed the pouch with trembling fingers. Too shaken to look, Crowley folded it up and placed it in his pocket. He took a deep breath to steady his quickening breath and opened the door to leave. Taking one last look over his shoulder, Crowley felt the need to tell somebody about this room. Most importantly Halt. Nobody had even known it existed besides him and his father. But for some reason he decided it should stay like that. Just like the Kalkara, some things were best forgotten.

Closing the door behind him, Crowley exited the room and started back down the long sets of stairs. By the time he was at the bottom of the stairs, Crowley was somewhat stable. The tears had stopped but he felt the need to distance himself from the room. He jumped down into the fireplace, sending a cloud of ash up and ducked so he could climb out into the room. Dusting himself off, Crowley looked around the room. It was empty but something felt wrong. He finally realized that there was only the dim light of the moon lighting everything up. It was later than it should have been and he felt his gut twist. Because of his memories, he had spent more time than he should have in the chamber. The commandant rushed to the window. He was just about to climb out the window when he heard voices outside the room. The commandant hurried to get positioned but wasn't fast enough. The door opened and in stepped somebody he never thought he'd see again.

"Seth," Crowley breathed from his perch on the windowsill.

uh-oh, that's not good...Please review, it is much appriciated if you point out things that are wrong