Rangers Apprentice

• [3] The Letter

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Wills POV.

My heart dropped. No Battleschool or Horseschool for me. Mentally, I curse whoever my parents are for my short and skinny figure. My eyes blurred with tears. I made sure they didn't fall though, that would be the ultimate humiliation. To be reject by Battleschool and then break down and cry like a baby infront of Baron, and the Craftmasters and his wardmates.

"What skills do you have, Will?" The Baron asked me. I thought hard. I'm not good at lessons and languages like Alyss. I'm not the neatest writer and I definitely can't form perfect letters like George. Nor did I have Jenny's interest in cooking. And I certainly did not have Horace's muscles and strength.

"I'm a good climber, sir," I said finally. As soon as I blurted that, I regretted it. Chubb casted glaring eyes my way.

"He can climb, all right, I remember when he climbed up a drain pipe into my kitchen and stole a tray of sweet-cakes that were cooling on the windowsill."

My jaw drooped. How unfair! That was two years ago, I was a child then and it was a mere childish prank.

"And last spring," the Scribemaster started, "He climed up to our third floor study and turned two rabbits loose during one of our legal debates. Most disruptive, indeed! It was a male and female, if you take my meaning, my lord."

"Well, yes. We know how rabbits are." He mumbled. "Is there anyone who could use this boy?"

I turned my head with pleading eyes, looking at each of the masters. My heart sank even more when all of them shook their heads slowly.

Surprisingly, it was the Ranger who broke the awful silence.

"There is something you need to know about this boy," he said to the Baron, passing him a folded piece of paper. Huh. That's what Halts voice sounds like? His voice is deep and soft-spoken, with the slightest burr of a Hibernian accent.
The Barons eyes traced the writing on the paper,

"You're sure of this, Halt?" He asked.

"Indeed, my lord."

Carefully, I watched the Baron place the sheet onto his desk. Re-folded.
"I'll have to think on this overnight." Arald said.
Anxiously, I stared at Halt and the piece of paper. Rangers are best avoided, I reminded myself. Well, that's what I had grown up believing, like most people in Redmont. We were told that they were a secretive, arcane group, shrouded group in mystery and uncertainty, uncertainty that led to fear.

The thought of Halt and the Baron knowing something about me that I didn't know bugged me. I realised that the Baron has said his congratulations to the wards, and then he turned to me.

"Will, I'll let you know tomorrow what I've decided about you. And thank you, everyone." He turned and left through the back door, along with the other Craftmasters. Martin led my wardmates out, they were chatting excitedly about their new apprenticeships. I hung back, and passed the table with the note on it. I stared at it for a moment, as if somehow I could see the words written on the reverse side. Then, that same sensation that I had felt earlier came back. The feeling of someone watching me. I looked up and was met with the Rangers dark eyes, he remained behind the Barons high-backed chair, almost invisible in that strange cloak of his.
I shuddered in a sudden frisson of fear and hurried out of the room.

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Y/n POV.

I place the arrow in the nocking point of my bow, raise it and pull back the string. I aim straight for the centre of the last arrow I fired. Exhaling, I release the arrow, hearing the satisfying thwip of the string slapping my leather cuff. I sigh in pleasure as I see that the arrow has sliced straight through the last arrow.

"Nice."
Immediately, I pull an arrow from my quiver, align it and point in the direction of the voice. Realising it was my father, I relaxed my draw and put down my bow.

"You need to work more on your hearing, little one." He says, leaning on his longbow in his Rangers cloak.

"I'm only little because of yours and mother's genes." I pout. He rolls his eyes, keeping his iconic constant scowl on his face.

"Look, kid, I won't be home until late tonight-"

"I want to come." I cut him off.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I would like to come, Halt." I repeat. He puts his hands on his hips and sighs, his hand stroking his uneven cut beard.

"Fine." He breathes out, "Your cloak is in my trunk, meet me at the Barons chamber in the west wing of the castle at sundown."

"I get a cloak?" I smile widely, I would be squealing and jumping up and down but I know Halt does not like that type of behaviour. He lets out a hum, not breaking into a smile. Without a word, he turns, jumps on Abelard - his horse -  and trots off to the castle. Calmly, I walk into the house and make my way to Halts room. When I know that their aren't any eyes lurking around, I let out a squeal and do a little 'me' dance.

Getting myself together, I open his trunk and staring straight at me is a neatly folded cloak. As if he'd expect me to ask to come with him. I pick the green and grey fabric up and slip it on. I would be lying if I said I didn't do some role-play in it.

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The sun is setting. I grab my cloak, wrapping myself in it, and pick up my bow from where it rested on the chair. Swinging my quiver over my shoulder, I leave the small house and jump on Alenya.

Going through the town in the castle is different now that I have my cloak on. For starters, they can't tell it's me. They must think it's Halt or another Ranger, because instead of whispers, they just move out of my way. I'm not complaining. The guard takes my horse, as usual, and I make my way to the west wing for the second time today. When I reach the Barons room, I give a curt knock. Halt opens the door, a smile ghosting his lips. But he would never admit that he was close to smiling, seeing his little girl in her big girl cloak. He spent too many years perfecting the stone cold scowl.
"I hope you had coffee." He speaks.

"Why?"

"Because we will be here for a long time."

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"What are we doing again?" I ask for the hundredth time that night.

"Y/n," he warns, "To be invisible, you need to master the art of being completely still, which means, no talking."

"Oh." I monotone. Halt never told me what we were doing here, in the Barons chambers, late into the night. All he said was 'You'll see'. Pfft. I wrap my cloak tighter around me, my eyes never leaving the small piece of paper that is resting on the desk. I feel Halt stiffen beside me, his hearing is much better than mine. I'm next to freeze up, because climbing through the Barons window, is none other than young Will.

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