Will saw the crossbow swing towards him now. He snapped off a shot, knew he had missed and pivoted back into cover, behind behind the tree next to him. He heard Halt shoot again, hear his arrow glance off an intervening tree. Then a bolt gouged a long furrow out of the hardwood that sheltered Will, spinning harmlessly away to clatter among the deadfalls.
Two crossbows. Two shots, he thought exultantly. Now they had him!
He stepped clear of the tree, continuing the pivoting movement so that he emerged on the opposite side to the one where he had into cover, and his mouth went dry as he saw the Genovesan aiming another crossbow towards Halt, heard the dull smack of the cord again. Halt had warned him that they might have more than one bow apiece, and he had been right.
Then Will's heart froze at the most chilling sound he had heard in his young life: Halt's brief cry of pain, followed by the sound of his bow dropping.
'Halt!' he screamed, all thoughts of the Genovesan forgotten for a moment. He searched vainly, looking to where Halt had risen into view. But there was no sign of him now. He was down, Will thought dully. He had been hit and he was down.
Halt: *appears in poof of smoke* Whoah, whoah, WHOAH! What just happened!?
John Flanagan: You were hit by a poisoned crossbow bolt, that's what happened.
Halt: Seriously!?
John Flanagan: Yes. Now leave me alone so I can finish writing this book.
Halt: But why did you do it!?
John Flanagan: Because I can.
Halt: But I'm Halt! Bad things don't happen to me! That's for less skilled people like… like Will!
Will: Excuse me!
Halt: You have been excused.
Will: Why me?
John Flanagan: It's my book, and I get to decide what happens in it! NOW GO!
Halt: *grabs saxe knife* No. Hurting. Halt. Got. It?
John Flanagan: *frightened* A story which Halt doesn't get hurt in. No problem!
Halt saw the crossbow swing towards him now. He snapped off a shot, knew he had missed and pivoted back into cover, behind behind the tree next to him. He heard Will shoot again, heard his arrow glance off an intervening tree. Then a bolt gouged a long furrow out of the hardwood that sheltered Halt, spinning harmlessly away to clatter among the deadfalls.
Two crossbows. Two shots, he thought exultantly. Now they had him!
He stepped clear of the tree, continuing the pivoting movement so that he emerged on the opposite side to the one where he had into cover, and his mouth went dry as he saw the Genovesan aiming another crossbow towards Will, heard the dull smack of the cord again. Will had warned him that they might have more than one bow apiece, and he had been right.
Then Halt's heart froze at the most chilling sound he had heard in his entire life: Will's brief cry of pain, followed by the sound of his bow dropping.
'Will!' he screamed, all thoughts of the Genovesan forgotten for a moment. He searched vainly, looking to where Will had risen into view. But there was no sign of him now. He was down, Halt thought dully. He had been hit and he was down.
Will: I really think I need to cut in here.
John Flanagan: *exasperated sigh* What now?
Will: I don't like where this is going.
John Flanagan: Why not?
Halt: Yeah Will. Why not?
Will: I just got shot by a damned poisoned arrow, and Halt is perfectly fine!
Halt: It's only cause I'm better than you.
Will: How?
Halt: Firstly, I'm older than you…
Will: *to self* Yeah, MUCH older…
Halt: What was that?
Will: Nothing! Please continue.
Halt: *glares at Will* Secondly, I'm much more experienced than you…
Will: Not by much!
Halt:*stares intimidatingly* Can I finish? And thirdly, I'm Halt.
Will: That last point doesn't count.
Halt: There is a reason that there aren't many angsty fanfics about me out there, and so many about you.
Will: It's because I'm so awesome that I get all the attention.
John Flanagan: Have you two ever even considered that it's to make up for the lack of you getting hurt in the books?
Fanfic readers: But aren't you the one that wrote the books?
John Flanagan: Yes, but that doesn't matter! What matters is that my own characters won't even leave me alone so I can write my book! *shouts* SO CAN I PLEASE FINISH MY BOOK!?
Will: *fingers bow* Write the book, but no. Hurting. Will. Kapeesh?
John Flanagan: *really annoyed* FINE!
Will saw the crossbow swing towards him now. He snapped off a shot, knew he had missed and pivoted back into cover, behind behind the tree next to him. He heard Halt shoot again, hear his arrow glance off an intervening tree. Then a bolt gouged a long furrow out of the hardwood that sheltered Will, spinning harmlessly away to clatter among the deadfalls.
Two crossbows. Two shots, he thought exultantly. Now they had him!
He stepped clear of the tree, continuing the pivoting movement so that he emerged on the opposite side to the one where he had into cover, and his mouth went dry as he saw the Genovesan aiming another crossbow towards Halt, heard the dull smack of the cord again. Halt had warned him that they might have more than one bow apiece, and he had been right.
Will saw Halt's bow come up, and flinched as the blot buried it's head in the longbow, splitting the yew wood almost in half. The impact sent Halt staggering back, and he tripped over a producing root, sprawling on the ground helplessly. The Genovesan saw his opportunity, and rushed forward, one of his many daggers in hand. Will shot an arrow at the Genovesan, but the many dead branches that hung in the way deflected the arrow, sending it clattering away into the forest. He tried calling to his mentor, but no sound came out.
The Genovesan had almost reached the spot where Halt lay, and he raised his dagger, preparing to drive it deep into Halt's helpless form. As the dagger fell, a flash of light intercepted the knife, and sent it spinning away into the undergrowth. The Genovesan looked around for his new enemy, and his eyes locked on a figure dressed in a green and grey mottled cloak.
But this was no Ranger. He carried a sword in one hand, and on the other a shield. Horace readied himself as the Genovesan drew another dagger, and lunged at Horace. The shield came up, and Horace swung his sword in an overhand blow that would have cleaved the purple clad figure in two, had he still been there. The Genovesan swayed to the side, and attacked Horace in a series of bewildering combinations. Horace, already tired from his sprint through the drowned forest, could barely block and parry each stroke, let alone fight back. He started backing off, but a strand of stay-with-me vine tangled in his cloak, the long thorns hooking into the rough material. Horace, distracted by the vine, didn't see the hilt of a dagger flashing towards his head until it was too late. He fell to the ground, dazed, and watched as the Genovesan smiled in triumph.
Horace: *walks in through the door* Hey! I'm not supposed to get hurt!
John Flanagan: *confused* I didn't know we had a door! And why did you interrupt me!?
Horace: I'm the foremost knight in all of Araluen! I'm supposed to beat that guy easily!
John Flanagan: It's called drama. The readers love some action, especially when one of the main characters nearly dies.
Horace: BUT I DON'T LIKE IT! Anyways, what was Will doing? Was he just standing there, watching and doing nothing to help?
John Flanagan: I was getting to that part, when SOMEBODY *coughs* INTERRUPTED MY STORY!
Horace: But…
John Flanagan: NO BUTS! NOW LEAVE ME TO WRITE IN PEACE!
Will watched as events unfolded before him, while he stood frozen to the ground, unable to move. Only when Horace fell to the ground did his Ranger training kick in. He started running to where the Genovesan was standing triumphantly over his mentor and best friend, nocking an arrow as he ran. Pausing about ten meters from the Genovesan, he sighted, shot, and… missed. The purple-clad figure turned away from his prey and faced the new danger, grinning when he saw how young his opponent was.
But now that he was distracted, Halt could draw his saxe knife and plunge it into the heart of the Genovesan, killing him instantly. Halt grinned at his ex-apprentice when he saw the concerned look there.
"I'm fine Will," he said, and Will helped him stand up. He noticed a small cut on Halt's cheek, where a branch scratched him as he fell.
Halt: I said no angst!
John Flanagan: Oh come on! It's only a scratch!
Halt: *stares intimidatingly* No. Angst.
John Flanagan: Oh fine!
Will: How on earth did I miss that shot!? I was ten meters away from him!
Horace: I'm supposed to be a REALLY GOOD swordsman! I can just be defeated like that!
John Flanagan: *steam coming out of ears* SHUT UP! JUST BE QUIET! THIS IS MY STORY! YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO WRITE! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE!
Gilan: *appears in poof of smoke*
John Flanagan: *angrily* WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY STORY! GILAN! YOU AREN'T EVEN IN IT! SO DON'T COME HERE AND START COMPLAINING TOO!
Gilan: *confused* What? I'm just here to watch the drama unfold…
John Flanagan: AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Halt: No Angst.
Will: I'm a Ranger! Rangers don't miss!
John Flanagan: *takes a deep breath to calm down* Fine. I'll write a story that you guys will be happy with.
The Genovesan shot an arrow.
Halt caught it with his bare hands.
He didn't get hurt.
Will shot the Genovesan.
The arrow zig-zagged around all of the branches.
It hit the Genovesan in the arm.
Horace appeared riding on a dragon.
He threw his sword.
It killed the Genovesan.
They were all happy.
THE END.
Horace: *thinking* hhhhhhmmmmmmmmm… it's ok.
John Flanagan: *triumphantly* FINALLY!
Will: Not sure about the dragon part though…
John Flanagan: *screams* AAHHHHHHHHH!
Halt: Is something wrong?
John Flanagan: *rage quit*
Publisher's note: Due to John Flanagan's rage quit, we are sorry to say that the publishing of all future Ranger's Apprentice books has been cancelled. Sorry for any inconvenience.
Just kidding. John Flanagan wrote the rest of the books, and published them. He kindly asked the Ranger's Apprentice characters to stop harassing him. It worked, eventually, after several trips to the hospital…