Crowley's Apprentice
Disclaimer: I don't own the Ranger's Apprentice series or any of its characters. I do own any OC's that might be in this fanfic.
Second Disclaimer: I do not own any songs that I might incorporate within this fanfic. The songs belong to their rightful artist
^^ Just trying to be safe :) ^^
Update time!
Once again, thanks to all of my reviewers; you guys rock!
That is all.
Chapter Twelve (I think?)
Name it again!
Just five minutes ago, Mikey was resting silently in a vantage point Crowley had found earlier that day, not expecting even the slightest amount of trouble. After all, they were in a dense forest. It seemed like in the blink of an eye, Mikey found himself running for his life, with the sound of arrows close behind him, slowly closing in on their target. He had to warn Crowley before it was too late.
He considered shooting an arrow, but found it wasteful to shoot at an unseen target. It would also waste time, which is the reason behind this predicament.
Could I hide? Mikey asked himself. He found a patch of thick forest plant life and decided to give it a try. Settling into the meager amount of cover he had, he silently waited. His question was soon answered as an arrow hissed just above his head. He ran.
Whoever was pursuing him was obviously covering ground faster. He tried to run faster, hoping to outrun his opponent. He was so close to the two one man tents that Crowley would most likely hear his rapidly approaching footsteps.
Then, he stumbled.
Falling to the ground with a thud, Mikey tried to regain his footing. All he could hear was another arrow, hissing through the night. All he felt was fear. What he felt next should have been the end of him.
An arrow.
Gasping for air, Mikey opened his eyes, only to find himself still neatly hidden behind the vantage point. Only now he was clutching his shoulder. Cautiously, he checked his arm. Nothing. Glancing at the night sky, he realized that his time for watch was now over. Wearily, he proceeded back to where his mentor was. He shook Crowley awake lightly, then wrapped himself in his cloak, dreaming of nothing else that night.
Later that morning, the Ranger and his apprentice were back on the road, heading to the annual Ranger Gathering. On the way, Crowley had given another one of his lectures about the history of the Ranger Corps and even Araluen itself. Mikey, as exhausted as he was, vaguely listened to Crowley's rambling. He learned previously that Crowley likes to repeat himself, and that it most certainly wouldn't be the last time that he would find himself hearing about this topic.
"Oh, and speaking of Rangers," Crowley said in the middle of his ramble. "We should be arriving at our designated area by tomorrow. "
Finally, something important, Mikey thought as he glanced over at his teacher. A sudden question entered his mind. Without thinking, he spoke.
"Hey Crowley?" he asked. Crowley looked over.
"Hmm?"
"I've been wondering; is Crowley your first or last name?"
Crowley, despite the confusion by the random question that had no relevance to his earlier statements, laughed quietly.
"Why does it matter?"
"I. . .I don't know," Mikey replied. He felt stupid.
"Well then, consider this question unresolved!"
Later that evening, Crowley and Mikey decided to set up camp a little early. After feeding on dried beef, fruit, and cold water once more, they took some time to relax. Mikey, sensing that there was nothing better to do, reached for his guitar case. Crowley, reading some unfinished reports he had brought along, smiled as he watched his apprentice tuning his guitar with great concentration.
After about twenty minutes of tuning, Mikey played the first couple chords to an original composition, which he had never thought about naming.
It's cold so
I cover myself with this blanket
But the weather's the same and I hate this
I'm warm for this moment alone
He played a short breakdown, then started again
And I don't see, anyway
That I could mean
Anything, to you.
Mikey frowned. Some notes sounded wrong. Instantly, he began to tune again, this time with even greater concentration. Crowley chuckled.
"You know, guitars don't always have to be perfectly tuned, right?"
"Yes, I do. But it would be nice if they were." Mikey retorted. Crowley overheard soft greetings from their Ranger horses, and immediately knew who it was. He turned back to Mikey.
"Well then, why don't you ask Ranger Berrigan? I'm sure he'll be glad to help." Mikey looked up.
"Ranger who?"
"That's Ranger Berrigan I believe. And it's not the guitar, it's your finger placement," the man spoke. Mikey examined him closer. His hair was black, which he kept long. Followed by blue eyes, the man had high cheekbones and a prominent nose. Mikey could also see that he had a "peg leg".
"Berrigan, this is my apprentice, Mikey." Crowley said.
"Very nice to meet you. Now let's fix your F chord. It sounded to me like a cat just died." Berrigan lied.
That night, after a pretty lengthy guitar session, Mikey noticed a significant change in the overall sound of his music. Taking first watch again, found a likeable vantage point. As he settled in, he reminded himself. He laughed at the thought of the previous night. While cursing at himself because of his vivid imagination, he vowed never to doze off on watch again. He gently set down his recurve bow and simply observed. He didn't see any crazy assassins or arrows; just him and the night sky.
That is, until he fell asleep again.
Done!
Don't forget to review now. Even an anonymous review would be appreciated :)
Sorry for any grammatical errors, if any. I need to reinstall Microsoft Word :D
Peace out!
-YDG