Chapter Two

A sudden thrum and rush of wind woke Will from his slumber, the boy letting out a very undignified squawk as he leaped into the air, flapping his wings. Before he could move another inch, another thrum and whistle of wind broke the air as something long, black, and sharp embedded itself in the trunk behind Will. Swiveling his head around in the manner that all birds were known to do, Will searched – and found – the offending object: a black-shafted arrow, still quivering where it had struck the bark of the tree. It was mere inches away from a second arrow. Whoever had shot them was obviously an expert archer.

"Do I have your attention now, or would you like to continue dreaming the day away?" a voice asked from down below.

Cautiously, Will peered over the branch, taking care not to expose himself more than he absolutely needed to. His sharp bird's eye spotted the offending archer down below. Swathed in a clean shirt and plain britches, the man would've looked like a common hunter, were it not for the mottled green cloak over his shoulders and the longbow in his hands. Boy though he was, Will recognized the man for what he was right away: a King's Ranger.

The matrons who ran the ward and the villagers all over the kingdom were suspicious of Rangers. And why wouldn't they be? They seemed to be a rather dark, shady lot, all of whom had the uncanny ability to move absolutely silently through any terrain and always seemed to appear out of thin air. The milkmaids often whispered that it was because the Rangers possessed a dark and horrible magic - and considering the fact that every single member of the Ranger Corps seemed to possess some fantastical ability of their own, that thought was not too much out of reach. Even as Will observed him, the Ranger seemed to fade in and out of his vision, the strange blotchy pattern of his mottled cloak shifting and shimmering, no doubt allowing the Ranger to blend perfectly into the backdrop of the forest.

But it was no ordinary Ranger, as though there were such a thing as ordinary Rangers in the first place. This was the Ranger Halt, Redmont's Ranger, said to have a special place reserved at not only the right hand of Baron Arald, but also the right hand of King Duncan himself. He was a legendary figure; the stories told about him still echoed through the halls of Redmont Castle to this day.

"Something interesting?" the Ranger's soft voice asked, breaking Will from his thoughts. For the first time (and how in the world hadn't he noticed this before?) the boy noticed that he had an arrow nocked and ready to shoot. No doubt, if Halt had wanted to put an arrow through him, he would be able to – bird or no bird. The fact that Halt had simply shot into the three behind him meant that he intended to call Will's attention somehow. The method was unorthodox, but it worked.

Will hesitantly flew down from his perch, transforming back into a boy as he landed. He stumbled a bit, but quickly caught himself, panting quietly. He had forgotten how much staying transformed for long tired him out. Were it not for the Ranger in front of him, he would be tempted to lie back down on the ground and take another nap.

"Well, now that I have your attention," Halt stowed away the arrow and slung the bow over his shoulder as he spoke. When his cloak moved to the side, Will noticed that he had a sort of double-scabbard hooked at his belt. "I suppose now would be as good of a time as any to tell you that for a boy so nervous about the Choosing, you certainly know how to sleep in."

As soon as those words left Halt's mouth, the realization dawned. The Choosing. He was late for the Choosing! Will whirled around and immediately began running, not even bothering to turn into a swifter animal as he ran. How could he do this? How in the world could he do this to himself? His father would be ashamed. Not to mention-

He crashed into a body, knocking the both of them over. So distracted was he in his rush that he did not even bother looking up. Stammering apologies, Will got to his feet, only to let out a shout of surprise. For right in front of him was the Ranger, the very man who Will had left standing out in the woods only seconds before. How did he manage to get all the way over here? Perhaps Rangers truly were armed with black magic.

"Calm down," Halt chided, gripping both of Will's shoulders as they recovered themselves. "And don't go running off blindly like that. That's how people get hurt." He removed his hands from Will's shoulder, but didn't stand to the side. And from the look he was giving Will, he was silently warning not to run off again. "Now. Before you go running and banging on the baron's door, you should know that the Choosing is over. You were missed, a small search party was sent out for you, but the baron is a very busy man. Unfortunately… any sort of craft you were hoping to go into has filled up its spots. If you do go back there, you'll be sent to the fields."

At this, Will's heart sank, right along with his dreams of riding alongside the trainee warriors in Battleschool and becoming the hero he knew his father was. For a brief moment, a strange light – almost pitying – flashed in Halt's stormy grey eyes, but it was only for a moment. The Ranger now regarded the boy in front of him critically, as though looking right into him. And Will simply stood there, staring at the castle, knowing that, at this moment, his wardmates were celebrating their apprenticeships. In particular, he thought of Alyss – pretty, blonde Alyss, who no doubt was smiling and perhaps even dancing, looking as beautiful as ever.

"Do you know what you will do now?" Halt asked, snapping Will from his thoughts. The boy pulled his eyes from the castle to look the Ranger in the eye. What would he do now?

"What do you mean, sir?" Will asked, hating how small his voice sounded. But could anyone blame him? He could not be a hero if he worked in the fields.

Annoyance flashed over Halt's face. "Why must young people always answer questions with more questions?" he asked a nearby tree before he shook his head and turned back to Will. "What I mean is to ask you your intentions. I'm going to be frank with you. Few Craftmasters will accept a boy who did not even bother showing up to the Choosing, especially he had overslept."

Will bit his lip and stared down at the grass. The Ranger did not need to remind him of that. He already knew.

"However, I will accept you as my apprentice."

At this, Will's head shot up, so quickly that he nearly knocked into Halt's own. "S-Sir? Your apprentice?"

"That's what I said," Halt replied, crossing his arms. For the first time, Will realized, he was able to be relaxed enough to see that the Ranger was not a very tall figure; in fact, many of the Battleschool apprentice warriors would tower over him. But simply from the movement of his arms, the way his trousers and shirt hung on his form, it was clear that Halt was built like a whipcord; strong and ready to spring. "Do ask a useful question next time."

"Sorry," Will muttered, trying his best not to drop his gaze from the Ranger's. In spite of his height, Halt cut an intimidating figure. Not only that, but he was not quite sure about being apprenticed to Halt at all; the grizzled Ranger never smiled, and everyone in Redmont knew it. Not only that, but the rumor that the Rangers had fantastical abilities was not mere rumor; it was very much rooted in fact.

Araluen had long been home to great beings, those who possessed powers beyond the ordinary. Legend had it that a blacksmith had made a deal with a great being thousands of years ago, and gained power over fire as a result. The rest of his village followed suit, and thus were the origins of Araluen's gifted. But power brought fear and mania with it, and for many of the gifted, it was better to hide their gift; there were some gifted individuals who were insane, through and through. Morgarath was one of them. As a result, the gifted were feared.

The Ranger Corps was no exception. It was rumored that every single member of the Ranger Corps was gifted in some way or form. Not only that, but these gifts were unusual; most were gifted with abilities over fire, water, air, or earth or perhaps with enhanced strength and speed. But the Ranger Corps? It was said that enhanced strength and speed was a rare ability to be had. Elemental manipulations even rarer.

"If it means anything to you," Halt said, turning around and beginning to walk. Almost mindlessly, Will followed. "The Ranger Corps does not care if you overslept and missed your Choosing… but we won't tolerate any oversleeping Rangers." He turned to look over his shoulder at Will. "Think on it."

It was Halt or the fields. And despite his intimidating figure, Will instinctively trusted him. Perhaps it was his reputation. Perhaps it was his honesty. Or perhaps it was the strong, almost fatherly hand on Will's shoulder as the Ranger steered him towards a small cabin near the edge of the woods.

"I'll be your apprentice," Will said. Warrior or not, a life as a Ranger was better than life in the fields. "Thank you, sir."

Halt paused, nodding curtly. "Meet me here tomorrow, at dawn. I'll have a room ready for you. Bring whatever you need." With that, they reached the door of the cabin, and the warm hand was gone.

"Thank you, sir," Will said, taking a step back. Though this cabin would soon become his home, he felt as though he should not step in. Not yet.

Halt stopped at the door and turned, raising one eyebrow. "My name is Halt."

"Alright then. Thank you… Halt," Will repeated hesitantly, testing the way the name rolled off his tongue. Strangely enough, he liked it.