A/N: OLAF! It's me, IFYOUCOULDFLY!...thank you. So. Darn. MUCH! I LVOVLOVOLVOVLOVLVOLVOVLOVLVOVLOVLVOLOVE YOU GUYS SOSOSOSO MUCH RIGHT NOW! Over 100 reviews. Am I DREAMING?! *Slaps self*…Okay, so I'm not dreaming…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAH! READ ON BEFORE I HYPERVENTILATE AND DIE!

-Chapter Twelve: Red Hill-

Horace glanced around nervously. He'd dreamed since he was a boy about battle. He'd always wanted to be the hero, the knight in shining armor, dashing through the ranks of the enemy, slicing and chopping. But this, this was different.

A heavy blanket of grim tension filled the air, reaching into Horace's heart and chilling him to the bone. There was no joy, no spark of excitement or eagerness in his fellow soldiers' eyes. Only bitter acceptance. They were doing this for the kingdom, and they knew very well that these could be their last moments.

Horace glanced at the scene around him. Rolling hills faded into a canopy of trees. Normally, this would be pleasant scenery, but the swirling, blackened sky, occasionally illuminated by flashes of lightning gave it an eerie appearance. His heard pounded in his ears, mingling with the sound of the pouring rain.

Horace shuddered as he realized the yellow-coated hill before him would soon be coated in a horrific shade of red. Years from now, small children could run along this hill, laughing and picking flowers, unaware of the lives lost the very place they were standing.

The sound of the bugle shook Horace from his thoughts, and his heart leapt. A thick rumble of thunder followed, as if warning them. Horace shuddered, knowing he was about to see his first battle, and maybe his last.

HEY, IT'S PAGEBREAK! YOU DIDN'T SEE ME AT ALL LAST CHAPPIE…MISSSSSSS MEEEEE? HEHE, YOU KNOW YOU DID, LADIES! (I liked it better when you were gone.)

Someone was crying.

Will snapped into consciousness, searching for the source of the noise. His eyes landed on Evanlyn, who was sobbing softly from beside him. Why was she crying? He tried to ask her, but his mouth wouldn't move. He attempted a grunt, just to tell her that he was awake, but his voice wouldn't respond.

"What's wrong with me?" Will thought, and pieces of what had happened the night before began to drift back. "Oh. That explains some things." He thought. "Like why my entire body is numb. But where are we?"

As if to answer his question, the boards he was lying on lurched forward violently. "Oh. A cart." Will concluded, and mentally sighed. "So basically I'm just going to sit here breathing. Great. I wonder where we're going."

The two traveled on for a while later, Evanlyn still sobbing and Will still numb, before the cart lurched again. This time, Will's smacked against a heavy crate. Tingles rocketed through his body, and darkness slipped around him again.

AWWWW, YOU DON'T MEAN THAT, DO YA BOSS? (Yes. Now shut up, they want to read.)

The armies met in the middle.

Morgarath watched, a sneer on his face. Duncan's men fought ferociously, but his Wargals had a serious advantage. The knights of Araluen had a fighting style based largely upon codes of chivalry. In contrast, the Wargals would rip you apart without hesitation. This was coming into play before his eyes.

Morgarath vented all his anger into his Wargal's minds. Duncan, Halt, Will...all the names that enraged him floated before him. Will. Yes, he would be very useful indeed.

Suddenly, he noticed a tremor of fear run through his army. "No…" Morgarath thought, watching as Araluen's cavalry flanked the Wargals perfectly, driving the beasts into panic. The primitive beasts swung their arms wildly, managing to maintain their steady slaughter, but their numbers were declining rapidly.

Morgarath may have been cruel, bitter, and downright evil, but he wasn't stupid. Immediately, the former baron saw the way this battle was tilting. "Raise the flag of treaty." Morgarath growled, then let a cold smile appear. He'd make them pay.

THAT HURTS, BOSS. THAT HURTS ME REALLY BAD. (You're a bunch of words. You can't feel pain. Since when do you call me Boss, anyway?)

Halt watched as Morgarath rode over the hill and stopped above the army, gazing down at them. He watched as lightning flashed behind him, and the Lord of The Mountains of Rain and Night smiled wickedly. Halt rolled eyes. Looks like Morgarath still had his old flair for dramatics.

"Well, Duncan. Here we are." Morgarath called, and King Duncan scowled. "What do you want, Morgarath?" The King shouted over the storm, and the former baron smiled. "We all know what I want, Duncan. The throne!"

King Duncan rolled his eyes. "Obviously. But what is your challenge?" Morgarath blinked, taken aback, and the king laughed. "Honestly, Morgarath, you're growing predictable. You'll stand up there, challenge one of us to single combat, and act dramatic and extravagant the entire time. Let's just cut to the chase."

In the crowd, Halt smirked, and Gilan nearly fell off of Blaze trying to conceal his laughter. The Lord's expression was just too much. After a few moments of stunned silence (other than the occasional snort that ran through the onlookers), Morgarath's face grew calm once more.

"All very well, Duncan, but I have something different in mind. Something that will wipe that obnoxious look off of your face." Morgarath called, and Duncan raised an eyebrow. Seeing that he was getting his point across, the former baron continued with renewed confidence.

"Yes, seems there was a little…trouble with my plans in reaching the kingdom. You see, my bridge was burned by two particularly troublesome prisoners. Two unique ones, at that." Morgarath wheeled his mount back and forth, and paused for effect. "Yes, it's not often you find a Ranger apprentice and princess running around the back woods."

Duncan's eyes widened, and his breath caught. "Cassandra…!" He thought desperately. Deep in the crowd, Halt was having a similar reaction. "No. He's a liar. He's trying to break us down. They can't have Will." Halt looked into his former apprentice's eyes, quietly panicking in the way only he could.

Morgarath let a wicked grin spread across his face. "Seems I've captured your attention. Speaking of captured, where are those nasty prisoners?" As hard as Duncan and Halt tried to convince themselves that Morgarath was lying, they couldn't deny it. The faces of the two they loved most were being dragged up next to Morgarath.

-WILL'S P.O.V...Sort Of...Well, Mostly...-

Rough hands grabbed his arms, jerking him upward and into reality. "C'mon, baby. Lord Morgarath wants you two. And you're sure gonna be sorry." A voice, Alda's, growled.

Will, finding that he still couldn't move most of his body, flicked his eyes towards Evanlyn. The girl was desperately struggling against Bryn and Jerome, who easily overcame her. Will sighed, then blinked in surprise. "Okay." He thought. "So I can sigh. And blink. That's a start."

He didn't have much time to think anymore, because Alda was dragging him now. Tingles spread up his body, and he silently pleaded for control to return just a little quicker. "Come on, hurry!" He thought, and experimentally jerked his leg forward. To his relief, it obeyed. He jerked it again, and wrenched his torso around, trying to wrench Alda's arm from his.

For a second, he was free, and he heard Evanlyn cry out in happiness, but Alda grabbed him again, and Bryn joined him on the other side. "Now, now, baby. Stay still. We're just taking you to a naptime." Bryn mocked, and Will gulped, knowing his "nap" would be a permanent one.

Will kicked again, trying to struggle, but he found that he was quickly tired. He cursed himself for forgetting just how weak he really was. "Here we are, babies. Get ready." Jerome announced, and Will's heart climbed into his throat.

Will was jerked forward into a scene he'd never wanted to face. It seemed all of Araluen was gathered before them, and though he was being dragged toward Morgarath, his eyes were on the crowd. Will's gaze fell upon one pair of eyes: Halt's.

For a moment, their eyes locked, and Will saw an emotion he'd never seen in his mentor's eyes: fear. Will gulped and stared at the ground again. He just couldn't look at the man he'd come to think of as a father. He was too ashamed. "Look at me." Will thought bitterly. "Some Ranger I turned out to be."

Instead, he focused on his captor, who had dismounted and was striding towards them. "Well, look what we've got here." He said, looking him up and down. "A Ranger's apprentice," he smirked and turned to Evanlyn, "and a princess."

Will turned and stared at Evanlyn, wide-eyed. "'ince'?" He tried to shout, but his tongue seemed too big for his mouth, and his head was spinning. The Dark Lord snorted. "Looks like the drug still hasn't worn off. Seems not all Rangers are as tough as they'd like us to believe."

Will cast his gaze downward, and Morgarath smirked in triumph. Out in the crowd, though Will didn't notice, Halt was desperately trying to work his way through the mass of people.

"I'll kill them all. I'll kill every single person that touched a hair on that boy's head!" Halt thought angrily as he shoved his way through, but a hand grasped his. He spun around to see Crowley shaking his head. "Be careful." His friend warned, pointing to the knife that was being held to Will's throat. Halt scowled, but stood down, knowing that it was hopeless to try.

Morgarath turned to the crowd again and announced with great pleasure, "I'm certain you have heard of the Kalkara." The entire world seemed to fall silent, other than the constant rainfall. Morgarath snorted and continued. "I see you have. Well, there are two left. And I think two people should fight them. I have a certain prisoner in mind, but there's another open slot."

Halt's heart crawled into his throat as he realized what was happening. Morgarath seemed to be staring right at him as he spoke his next words. "So who will fill this slot? The princess, or the Ranger?"

Will shuddered. He knew what the people's choice would be. But the Kalkara? Despite the situation, Will nearly laughed. "I'm so unlucky it's almost funny." He thought, and managed to look up into the crowd.

Duncan had a look of pity on his face as he stared up at Will. "I'm sorry." The king's eyes seemed to say, which worried Will even more. Will moved his gaze to Halt, and he felt his heart being dragged down. His mentor, his master, his father, was looking at him with the most helpless expression he'd ever seen. Will didn't want to hurt Halt, he didn't want to leave his friends behind, but he knew what he must do.

"Pick me." Will finally announced, breaking the silence. "Let Ev-the princess-go."

He felt all eyes shift towards him, most full of pity, some of shock, some of hurt. Will could see Halt open his mouth to protest out of the corner of his eye, but Morgarath cut him off as Jerome shoved Cassandra into the arms of a very relieved King Duncan.

"Well, it seems we're going to have a contest. Ranger, prisoner, and Kalkara. How exciting!" Morgarath shouted, practically overflowing with glee. Then, his face contorted from a happy grin to an evil one. "But there's something you should know about little Will here." Will's eyes widened. "No!" He thought, realizing where this was going. "Don't tell them!" Obviously, Morgarath continued.

"You see, he's been a very naughty boy." The Dark Lord's eyes twinkled with a vicious gleam. "You may think he's a poor little orphan, with deceased foster parents." "How does he know that?" Will thought as Morgarath rambled.

"Well, you're wrong. This boy, in fact, ran away from home, leaving his father-who was crippled by the war-to fend for himself." Morgarath grinned wildly, and Halt frowned. "No. This can't be true…."

"Now, let's be fair. It is true that Will had some incentive to run." Will squirmed uncomfortably as wide eyes landed on him. "It is true that his father was a terrible drunk and beat him senseless every day." Morgarath smiled widely as a few people gasped, but his eyes were on Halt.

Halt didn't realize he was biting his tongue until his mouth was flooded with blood. "How dare he!" Halt thought. At this point, the grizzled Ranger was seething with rage. He would rip Will's father, whoever that may be, apart limb from limb. How dare he treat his apprentice-no, his son,- that way?

Morgarath continued. "So Will ran. And he lied. To every one of you. Who knows how much you can really trust this boy? Maybe he had deeper, darker secrets that his little friend didn't tell me." Will's head snapped up "Wha-no!" Morgarath wheeled around to look at Will.

"Yes, there was a girl trying to make her way to Celtica. All I had to do was threaten her little boyfriend, and she spilled just about everything. Really, Will, you must choose your companions wisely. What was her name again? Elena, I believe? It doesn't matter anyhow, she and her companion are dead, after all."

"No…" Will whispered, tears forming in his eyes. "Elena…" Morgarath nodded, satisfied, and Halt would have charged forward, if not for Crowley, Gilan, and Duncan. "Not now." They whispered. "We'll find a way." Morgarath took this opportunity to continue. "Well, I think that's enough of that. Ready to meet your fellow combatant?" Morgarath called, not expecting or receiving an answer. "Bring him out."

Will looked up, hoping that it would be somebody large, or experienced. Instead, he was met with a face he never wanted to see again. The face stared back at him, wide-eyed and scruffy. "Will?" His father muttered.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I'M SOSOSO SORRY! Again, I upload late, and the chappie's choppy (hehe chappie choppy…sorry) and not at ALL worth the wait…but anyways…OOOOOH SNAP! Lots of stuff happened…like lots. AND I CAN'T BELIEVE IT'S ALMOST OVER! Next chappie's the last, followed by a short epilogue and then…done. But anyhow…longest chappie I've EVER written, and I'm exhausted now. So…keep reading/reviewing/being awesome!-FLY