Ignoring History - Ranger's Apprentice Fanfiction

Chapter 31

~☕Crowley☕~

"Are you ready?" Crowley said.

Duncan clenched his jaw. His knuckles were white with how tightly he was holding onto the reins of his horse. "As ready as I'll ever be," he said.

"You sure?"

Duncan swiveled around to meet his eyes. "If you keep on asking me, I might just change my mind."

"So are you ready or not?"

"Do I have a choice?"

Crowley cracked a grin. "No," he said, turning away. He glanced at Lady Pauline, Egon, and Berrigan behind them, nodding once before taking his gaze to Castle Araluen.

Even under Morgarath's kingship, it stood proudly. Its towers rose up high in the sky, flying the black and gold flags of Gorlan. It was fortified by multiple walls, and although they stood at a distance, Crowley could still tell that they were massive. Those walls were what made the castle almost unbreakable, and if it was ever under siege, those inside would have lasted long enough for help to arrive. Crowley's favorite part of the castle, however, was it's honey color. Under the light of the sun, it gave off a warm feeling of welcoming and hospitality.

But Crowley was getting ahead of himself. They couldn't go and storm the castle just yet. There were still the villagers to take care off. His eyes trailed off to the village, which was fairly large as far as villages go. The stone and wooden houses looked cozy, snuggled close together like a rather dense forest. Then, there were the shops. Colorful banners hung from the wooden beams and there were fine displays in front of most of them.

The only thing missing was the laughter. The activity. The crowds. Sure, there were still people out on the streets, but they were all quieter. More careful, more suspicious of newcomers. Whether it was a reaction to news of Baron Arald or just how things were those days, Crowley couldn't tell. He sighed.

"Follow my lead," he said.

Sliding off of Cropper, Crowley gently ran a hand through his mane. He swallowed down a gulp and began walking towards the village. He took a breath when he heard the others get off their own horse, and he straightened his back.

"Hello!" Crowley called out as he stepped foot onto a stone path. "My name is Crowley Meratyn, and these are my friends. We come in peace."

He paused for a second, waiting to see if there was a reply. When there was none, he continued. "You may have heard of me before," he said. "Back when Morgarath first came into power. I was one of the old rangers, you see. He was hunting for me."

That got people's attention. Crowley smiled when more of them came onto the streets to meet him. He gave a small bow.

"Nice to meet you all," he said.

"You're not lying?" someone asked. "You really were a ranger?"

Crowley nodded. He fished out his silver oakleaf, holding it up in the air so that they could see. "That's right," he said. "I'm here with some news."

"Who are your friends?"

Crowley glanced back. "That's Egon and Berrigan," he said, pointing at them. "They were also rangers. And that over there is Lady Pauline of Redmont."

"Redmont?" another said. "Is it true what they say? Baron Arald has passed?"

Lady Pauline bowed her head down. "It's a long story," she said, "but there was an assassin who claimed that he had been sent by King Morgarath."

Gasps sounded in the street.

"King Morgarath?" someone said, hand over their mouth.

"No! That can't be right." Another stumbled backwards in shock.