So excited to bring you another chapter! I was only planning on publishing 1 chapter today but a good idea hit me and I couldn't wait! Thank you for your reviews! I'm super excited for this next chapter so I won't keep babbling, have fun reading it! Hope you like it!

- storyspinner16

Gilan woke up to a pounding headache. His arm and foot ached where the man had broken them. Gilan opened his eyes and was met with darkness. He must have been put in a room of some sort. He felt something drip on his head and grimaced, or it was a cave. He climbed slowly and painfully to his foot and felt his way to the wall. It was warm and gritty. Dirt. He cursed and looked up, able to see the tiny outline of a door in the ceiling.

"A hole," he sighed and rested his head against the wall, "he hid me in a hole."

"He hid all of us in a hole," a voice spoke from across the hole

Gilan jumped, "who's there?"

"Relax, Gil, it's just me," the voice was closer, "It's Ronan."

"Ronan?" Gilan echoed, "what...?"

Ronan was a fellow 3rd year apprentice that Gilan had grown close to at the gatherings. He was apprenticed to the ranger of Whitby fief, Leander. He had been missing for two weeks, without a sign. It had made Halt even more of a worry-wart than ever, keeping Gilan closer than usual. Even following him to his sessions with MacNiel and waiting for him to be done before going home. That whole time, Ronan had been hidden in this hole, by who knows who, waiting for someone to find him. Gilan left the wall and stumbled across the floor, quickly locating his fellow apprentice. Ronan helped him to the floor and they sat in the dark, their knees resting up against each other.

"Who are these guys?" Gilan finally asked, glancing in the direction of his friend.

He felt Ronan shrug, "I don't know. They have ranger training though."

"How do you know?" Gilan questioned, his curiosity piqued.

"Well, first of all," Ronan answered slowly, as if thinking it out for himself, "they came up unseen and silently. Neither Leander nor I heard them coming. Second, they knew to come in upwind from our horses. Willow and Peg never even knew they were there. Third, when they hit me, as I fell I saw a saxe knife hanging from their belts. There's no way they aren't rangers."

Gillan frowned, "they? Were there multiple when you were attacked?"

"Yeah, there were three of them," Ronan sighed, "two of them beat up Leander while the other took care of me," his voice grew quiet, "do you know if Leander is okay?"

Gilan nodded, "I overheard Crowley and Halt talking. He's a little banged up, but they said he gonna be okay."

Ronan breathed a sigh of relief, "good."

They sat in silence for a while, taking comfort in each other's presence. Gilan and Ronan had met three years ago, both of them fresh-faced and excitable young boys. It had been their first gathering and they had instantly connected. They had even kept contact over the times in between Gatherings, sending letters back and forth to each other. They were close, and since neither had siblings and they only lived a few hours away from each other, their mentors had allowed them to meet up occasionally and hang out together. Their mentors found their friendship rather amusing. The boys were polar opposites. Where Gilan was tall and lanky, Ronan was short and stout. While Ronan was quieter, Gilan never hesitated to spring forward with words. The boys were polar opposites but best friends. Halt had given Gilan grief about it until he had pointed out that Halt had a very similar friendship with Crowley. That had shut his mentor's mouth. Gilan's thought process was cut off as a thought occurred to him.

"Hey Ronan," he glanced over at the vague shape of his friend, "are you the only one here? Because a week after you were taken, Ackerly disappeared."

"I haven't seen him," Ronan shook his head, "I would think he'd be in here with us, right?"

"Maybe..." Gilan frowned, "did you see a crest on one of the men?"

"Yeah, the one that seemed to be the leader had one," Ronan replied, "but I didn't pay attention to what it was."

"It was a black circle with a yellow lightning bolt running through it," Gilan informed his friend, "something about it seemed familiar but I couldn't place it."

He felt Ronan freeze, "you remember me telling you that I used to live in Gorlan fief, right?"

Gilan, silently wondering at his friend's reaction, nodded, "yeah, why?"

"I grew up seeing that crest," Ronan's voice was quiet, and scared.

"That... That crest?" Gilan asked slowly, "that crest specifically?"

"Yes," Ronan's voice was barely a whisper, "it's the crest of Morgarath."

Gilan felt a trickle of dread slide down his back, sending a chill through his body, "they don't know which apprentice's we are, right? They are just grabbing us as they see us?"

Ronan shook his head, "think about it," he replied, "you're Halt's apprentice, I'm Leader's, Acklerly is Farrell's..." his voice trailed off as the realization hit them both.

"He's taking the apprentices of the originals," Gilan couldn't keep the horror out of his voice, "all of us are targets. This isn't random."

"They must be sympathizers to Morgarath's cause," Ronan had a tremor in his voice, "but is this a specific plan...

"Or just revenge?" Gilan finished, reaching over and taking his friend's hand.

As they sat there in the dark, both apprentice's wrestled with their thoughts as the new information sank in. As did the amount of danger they were truly in.

_ ***Line Break*** _

Crowley sat at Halt's dining table, looking over a map, as his friend paced and stewed. There were three fiefs marked off and both men shuddered as Crowley sadly crossed out Redmont.

"Where is he, Crowley?" Hat's voice was full of anguish, "its been almost three days. Why haven't we gotten a ransom letter, or proof of life, or.. or.. something!" His last word was spoken at a shout as his fist collided with the wall in frustration, splintering the wood in the process.

Crowley looked up from the map and stood, crossing the room to his friend and puling a bandage out of his pocket, "give me your hand, Halt," he ordered his best friend, "and sit down."

Halt obeyed silently, which somehow worried Crowley more than his shouting and pacing. Crowley sat down next to him and gently wrapped Halt's bleeding knuckles. He kept his eyes trained on his task, fighting the urge to scream himself silly. As the commandant, he had to remain equally worried about all of the missing apprentices, but he couldn't help but feel a little more urgency at Gilan's disappearance. The boisterous, young apprentice had wormed his way into Crowley's heart and taken up permanent residence, as he did with everyone he met. There had been several people in the village arranging search parties themselves to try and find the young boy. Even more searches had been organized by Baron Arald himself, and Sir Rodney, the battle master. Everyone was determined to find Gilan before it was too late. It wasn't just his love of the boy that caused Crowley so much worry, it was also Halt's reaction. The Hibernian had a bad habit of covering up how he felt until it just exploded in an uncontrollable flight of desperation.

"Now," Crowley released Hat's hand, now fully bandaged, "we're going to find Gilan, Halt, but you're gonna need your hands to decimate the men who did this. Got it?"

Halt nodded numbly, "we will find him," he looked up, "then I will kill them."