So today I learned that my school's Spanish II teacher could totally replace my friend Logan in our One Act Play. I mean, he's not a particularly good actor, but he's definitely better than Logan at certain times, such as: "All my money-Gone! What? How?" Logan WAY over-acts this. A lot. Imagine the most ridiculous way you could say that ant that's probably pretty close to how Logan says it. Another one is: "The only way all my money could be gone is if...He stabbed me." Logan WAY over-dramatizes this. A lot. Seriously. Imagine the most ridiculously dramatic way you could say that. And...yeah, you get the point. Mr. Enmin talks like a normal person on those lines. And Mr. Enmin actually comes to our practices. So...

Also, if you were wondering about the context of those lines, in our play all of the characters are dead. Logan's character was stabbed by a mugger who also took all of his money.

Anyways, AmazingWriter123's chapter. Right here. For you.

"Shouldn't we be chasing them?" asked Blake for the twentieth time that morning.

"We'll go back to the cabin and then head out later, once we meet our back up and formulate a plan," explained Gilan.

"We have back up?" asked Blake excitedly.

Gilan smirked. "Why are all apprentices so dumb?" he asked the trees above him. "Of course we have back up! Will and Horace are probably waiting for us at the cabin. I just hope they didn't drink all the coffee."

"I'm sure they did," replied Blake with a scowl. He didn't like being called dumb.

Gilan looked at him as if talking to a child who was really slow on the uptake. "You know if they drank all the coffee then you won't get any either."

Blake groaned. How could he have not thought of that before? "Well, in that case… I'll race you home!"

And he was off before he'd finished. Gilan shook his head in exasperation, and said to Blaze, "Apprentices… always act on impulses."

Of course they do, even you did, or don't you remember? The horse seemed to say in reply.

Gilan said nothing; it was no use trying to answer back to his horse. They continued at their steady pace, in no real hurry to get home. And that was when they heard a scream. It was unmistakably Blake's voice.

Gilan dug his heels into Blaze's side and they raced down the track in a mad gallop.

…

Blake was having such a great time galloping away on his horse Dusty, named that because of the dust he kicked up, that he ignored his horse's repeated warnings, marking them down as having fun.

The only time he realized something was wrong was when he realized that the birds had stopped chirping. He came to a stop instantly, his eyes swiveling to scan the surrounding area. He spotted no movement.

It was only too late that he remembered one of Gilan's first lessons while looking for a person. Most people tend to forget to look up. He tilted his head upwards, the slightest movement, nothing that appeared abnormal.

And then he saw his assailant. He was a man about Gilan's size, although much shorter and a little stockier, he was carefully balanced amongst the tree's branches, waiting no doubt for Blake.

Blake tried to move on as if he hadn't seen anything. Obviously, it was not a plan that was going to work. He had barely moved Dusty on by a few meters when the man dropped down with practiced ease.

"Stop right there young man," he said coldly.

Blake dug his heels into Dusty's sides. "Run Dusty!" he yelled. The horse broke into a gallop from a standstill, nearly unseating even a rider as practiced as Blake.

The man just stood there, and emitted two short, piercing whistles. And Blake realized that something was very, very wrong. This one man was just a distraction; he had fallen into a trap.

He pulled the reins, bringing Dusty to a stop. He had a better chance on foot, he thought, at least he would have cover. Dismounting, he signaled Dusty to return from where they had come. Hopefully Gilan would find him.

At the thought of his mentor Blake felt a small sense of disappointment; Gilan would be ashamed that Blake had fallen for such a trap so easily.

He waited for any sign of movement. Then he saw it a brief flash of deep purple amongst the tall grass. Genovesans, Gilan had taught him about them and how deadly they could be.

He dropped to a crouch, and waited for his hands to stop shaking so badly. His first mission and he had already messed up. Then he nocked, drew, aimed and shot in one fluid motion. He knew the shot was a good one, and the cry of pain a moment later proved him right.

He got up, dusting his tights. A bolt flew out of nowhere. Trusting his reflexes, he dodged to the right. But that day luck was just not on his side. The bolt was a lot lower than he had anticipated and it pierced his thigh.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream, and then the world went black. The Genovesan stepped out of the brush and whistled to his companion. Together, they dragged the unconscious boy back to their camp.

…..

Gilan found Dusty somewhere halfway between the ambush spot and his original position. The horse turned instantly and began following them. Gilan saw the signs where Blake had crouched. He shook his head at his young apprentice's foolishness.

Then he saw the trail of blood leading away into the trees and he froze. "Gorlog's teeth!" he swore.

Then he rode with full speed back to the cabin. Blaze and Dusty nickered a greeting to Tug and Kicker. Only Tug returned the neigh. Gilan quickly dismounted and unsaddled blaze, letting her graze freely. Then he swung the door open to find Will and Horace sitting on the table drinking coffee, and with them a very unexpected visitor… Halt.