Realized Too Late

by SwallowPL

Summary:

Will has been a full-fledged Ranger for some time now. Living on his own, everything seems to be going well. On the surface. Yet with each passing day, he grows more and more exhausted. Everyone dismisses it as the result of hard work and restless nights. But Will insists on one thing – someone is watching him.
He feels threatened, his unease spiraling into deeper paranoia.
Is there truly something lurking in the shadows? Or is his mind beginning to fall apart? Will he find support among those closest to him, or will he be left to face it alone?

Notes:

For the purposes of this story, I’ve chosen to place all the characters in one city.
As always, I do not own any rights to John Flanagan’s works, nor do I profit from them. This is purely a fanfiction – my creative interpretation and a way of playing with the world the author created.
One additional note – just like with my previous story, I’m writing in my native language, Polish. However, I’m also posting an English version translated from it.

Happy reading! :-)

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

The tavern was filled with the smell of beer and roasted meat. Conversations overlapped, blending into one big noise.

 

At a table in the corner sat seven Rangers. Halt sat stiffly. He had never liked places like this, but he let himself be persuaded. Crowley, as usual, was telling some funny story. Gilan, smiling nonstop. Berringan, an older Ranger, but no less amusing, always throwing in jokes. Leander, not letting Berringan go unchallenged. Norris, the oldest of the group, a bit grumpy, but deep down happy to be with them. And Will. A freshly graduated Ranger.

Although they lived close to one another, they rarely had time for such outings. Today, however, they could allow themselves a bit of relaxation, since everyone had found a free moment.

 

Will smiled at the others and listened with interest to their stories. One was about some crazy mission. Another about complaints over bandits and rogues. Then again a political discussion.

 

– Berringan – Crowley began, leaning over the table – Is it true that your horse ate your cloak again?

 

The Ranger in question frowned.

 

– It was lying too close to the oats – he muttered.

 

Gilan almost choked on his beer.

 

– Maybe you should finally start feeding him properly – Norris noted, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Leander added right away:

 

– Because next time he’ll eat you.

 

Berringan only muttered something about his friends being clowns.

 

The evening went on in a joyful atmosphere. The floor creaked under people dancing to the music, and the flickering candles cast long shadows on the wooden walls, as if they were dancing too.

 

Even though it was still quite early, Will rested his head on his hand. He kept listening carefully, but he couldn’t stop the yawns that kept slipping out. Finally, Gilan nudged him in the side.

 

– And why are you so tired? Did the beer beat you? – he laughed in a friendly way.

 

Will smiled faintly.

 

 

– Ha ha, very funny. I just… – he rubbed his tired eyes – Lately I haven’t been sleeping well.

 

– Oh ho – Leander spoke up – Classic rookie syndrome.

 

Will frowned, not understanding. Crowley sighed.

 

– It’s normal – he explained calmly – You’ve only just passed your exams. You’ve got a lot of work. Pressure and all that.

 

– I’m not stressed – the boy denied.

 

Crowley just waved his hand and winked at him.

 

– Everyone says that.

 

– And besides – Norris added, putting down his beer – you don’t live with Halt anymore. You’ve got more duties now. It affects your sleep.

 

– But it will pass, once you get used to the work rhythm – Berringan assured him calmly, taking a sip of his drink.

 

Halt, who had been silent until now, leaned closer to Will:

 

– If you have a problem, don’t hesitate to ask for help. That’s what we’re here for. And you don’t have to prove anything to anyone. Least of all to me.

 

Will relaxed. Those words meant the most to him. Because they came from Halt.

***

When they left the tavern, the group slowly began to split up.

 

– See you tomorrow – Crowley called – Just don’t be late for the meeting, because I won’t be dragging you out of bed.

 

– Yeah, yeah…– Berringan waved his hand without even looking.

 

Will smiled warmly at Halt:

 

– Good night, Halt.

 

– Good night, son – the Ranger muttered – Get some sleep tonight.

 

The boy laughed.

 

– I’ll try.

 

For half the way, Will walked together with Gilan. Their cabins stood close to each other.

 

Moonlight broke through the trees, casting silver patches on the path. Early autumn was already making itself felt—the air was cool, and the first leaves were falling from the trees. Will wrapped his cloak tighter around himself.

 

When they reached the crossroads, it was time to say goodbye.

 

– Good night, little one.

 

Will protested theatrically. Gilan had called him that ever since Will began his training with Halt. He had always been shorter and smaller than his older friend, so the nickname stuck.

 

– Hey! I’m not little anymore – he objected, crossing his arms over his chest.

 

Gilan laughed.

 

– You’ll always be little to me – He stepped closer and flicked him playfully on the nose.

 

Will tried to keep pretending to be offended for a moment longer, but finally he laughed too.

 

– Good night, Gilan – he waved in farewell, heading his own way.

 

Two silhouettes disappeared into the darkness.

***

The next morning, fog covered the nearby fields. The damp air smelled of wet earth, and the sun was hidden behind the clouds. For Will, this morning reflected his own mood—it was gloomy.

 

Will sat at the table in the council chamber, almost falling asleep. He fought bravely, but his heavy eyelids kept dropping.
He shifted in his chair and looked around at the others. Crowley was discussing current matters, pacing in front of the table and gesturing with his hands. Gilan and Norris were jotting things down in their notes. Halt, as usual, sat focused, with an expression that revealed absolutely nothing. His hands rested on the table, his posture straight, his eyes fixed on the commander. Berringan only nodded along.

 

Will tried to keep himself occupied. He rolled a quill between his fingers, staining them with ink. He even started writing something down, though only fragments of the discussion reached his awareness. Every now and then he raised his eyebrows, as if that gesture could hold back his drooping eyelids. It didn’t help. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t gather his thoughts.

 

Though he kept talking, Crowley glanced at the boy from the corner of his eye every so often. He could see how Will was fighting with himself. And losing.

 

– How about a coffee break? – he called cheerfully.

 

– Oh yes – Gilan agreed right away – Coffee is a great idea.

 

Norris tossed his quill aside and said with fake sharpness:

 

– I thought you’d never stop rambling.

 

A moment later, each of them had a steaming cup of aromatic coffee. Will first breathed in the smell, then took a sip. He needed it more than he wanted to admit.

Crowley watched him for a moment, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

 

– How many coffees is that today, Will? – he asked casually, taking a sip from his own cup.

 

Will lifted his gaze from the mug. He set it on the table a little harder, swallowed the coffee, and said playfully:

 

– I stopped counting.

 

Berringan snorted. Halt only shook his head.

 

– Didn’t sleep again?

 

Will just shrugged in reply. His mentor kept staring at him for a while longer. The boy shrank a little and looked away.

 

– It’s not my fault – he finally said.

 

– Maybe we should give the kid a few days off? – Norris suggested, scratching his head – He could rest a bit and get his strength back.

 

– I told you, it’s not because of work – Will sighed, rubbing his temples.

 

– Then what is it? – Norris crossed his arms and lifted his chin, waiting for an answer.

 

Will’s shoulders tensed.

 

– Should I tell them? – he asked himself.

 

The others might not have noticed, but Halt knew his former apprentice. He saw the sudden change in posture.

 

– Will – he said in a low voice – What’s going on?

 

The boy looked at him uncertainly, then let his gaze wander over the others. His hands clenched tighter around the mug.

 

– Do you ever feel… – he began quietly, staring at the wooden tabletop – Like someone is watching you?

***

– …like someone is watching you?

 

After Will’s words, silence fell. Only the crackling of wood in the fireplace filled the air, making the atmosphere even heavier.

 

The Rangers stared at Will as if he had just announced he was quitting the Corps to become a farmer. Crowley finally snorted with amusement.

 

– Yes. Especially when you try to steal Halt’s coffee.

 

The rest laughed. Halt only raised an eyebrow. Will gave a faint smile.

 

– I knew they wouldn’t understand.

 

Crowley sighed, then added:

 

– Seriously, Will. Take a few days off.

 

– But…

 

The commander wagged his finger at him playfully – Consider that an order.

 

Will leaned back in his chair. His companions had already moved on to other topics. Only Halt drank his coffee in silence.
Gilan, though laughing with Berringan, caught the disappointment in Will’s eyes.

 

– He’ll rest and feel better – he told himself, trying to cover up the growing unease.

***

That same afternoon, Will went to visit Horacey and Cassandra. Since he’d been given time off, he intended to use it. He walked along the familiar path leading to the castle.

 

The sun finally came out from behind the clouds, its rays pleasantly warm. Colorful leaves danced in the air, carried by the wind like in a dance.
The whole scene stood in contrast to the gloomy morning. Just like Will himself. Gloomy in the morning - now walking tall, with an optimistic attitude.

 

When he entered the castle, he headed straight upstairs. His steps echoed off the stone walls in the empty corridor. He pushed open the wooden door, which creaked slightly. His friends were already waiting for him in the chamber.

 

– Will! – Cassandra called.

 

A chair scraped as she stood to greet her friend. Horacey also got to his feet and patted the Ranger on the shoulder.

 

– Good to see you, Will.

 

The boy smiled broadly – Good to see you too.

 

They sat at the table, where three cups were already waiting. Steam rose from one pot filled with aromatic herbal tea, and the other held coffee - prepared especially for Will. On a silver tray, cookies tempted with their look and smell.

 

Will gave in to one, holding his hand under his chin so as not to scatter crumbs.

 

– Eat, eat – Cassandra encouraged, setting down her cup – Before Horacey eats them all.

 

– What can I do if they’re so delicious? – the young knight defended himself, raising his hands in the air.

 

Will laughed. Honestly. For the first time that day.

 

– Maybe this time off wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

 

They chatted a while longer, trading the newest gossip from the court.

 

– Apparently the new maid – Cassandra began in a whisper, leaning forward as if she were revealing the biggest state secret – stole the husband of our cook.

 

– Oooooh – the Ranger and the knight answered in unison.

 

Will usually didn’t care about gossip. As a Ranger, he lived by what happened in the forests and on the roads, not at the royal court. He only paid attention to what was important for his work. And yet… sometimes it was fun to listen. Especially when Cassandra told everything in her typical, overly dramatic tone.

 

After a few more cups of coffee and tea, and other tidbits straight from the castle, Horacey finally looked more closely at his friend.

 

– You look like you haven’t slept in days – he said dryly.

 

Will glanced at him, raising his eyebrows.

 

– Not at all. It’s just my new tactic - if the enemy attacks me, he’ll think I’m already dying.

 

Cassandra had to cover her mouth with her hand to keep from bursting out laughing and spraying her tea. Horacey rolled his eyes. He muttered something under his breath about Rangers and their twisted sense of humor.

 

At last, Cassie grew serious.

 

– Will, you really don’t look well – Cassandra frowned, looking at him with concern – Is something wrong?

 

Will looked at her and rested his elbows on the table.

 

– Nothing special. I just haven’t been sleeping well lately. That’s all.

 

– Oh… – the princess sighed, truly worried.

 

– Too much work? – Horacey asked bluntly.

 

– Mm-hm. That’s what the older lot says.

 

Horacey laughed loudly.

 

– You mean Halt, Crowley, Berringan and the rest.

 

– Mm-hm – Will muttered, trying to hide a smile.

 

Cassandra’s expression softened.

 

– Oh, Will… They worry about you – she said gently – They’re your family.

 

That was true, Will had to admit. All six of them were his family. A chosen family. A little crazy, with a whole range of personalities. And yet, with them he felt safe and happy. He knew he could count on them in any situation.

 

Out loud he only said quietly:

 

– I know. But… – He hesitated. His fingers began tapping nervously on the tabletop – It’s not because of work.

 

– Then what is it?

 

The boy shifted uneasily in his chair. He didn’t know if it made sense to tell them. He had already revealed more that morning, and it had been brushed off as a joke.
Without looking his friends in the eyes, he finally forced out:

 

– Lately I feel like…

 

– Yes…? – Horacey urged, leaning forward. Cassandra shot him a murderous look.

 

Will swallowed hard and went on:

 

– I feel like someone is watching me – he finished quickly, before he could change his mind halfway through.

 

Just like the Rangers earlier, Cassandra and Horacey fell silent. The knight blinked.

 

– Watching you…? – he repeated uncertainly after his friend.

 

Will only nodded.

 

– And… I hear like… – Come on, Will, say it now that you’ve started – he scolded himself – Like someone is calling me.

 

Cassandra gently set her cup down on the table. She braced her hands on the edge of her chair and straightened her position.

 

– Will… – she bit her lip, unsure how to bring it up gently – When a person is tired… sometimes they hear and see things that aren’t really there.

 

– But I don’t hear it because I’m tired – the boy crossed his arms, irritation in his voice – I’m tired because those strange things don’t let me sleep.

 

– Maybe you just… – the princess tried again, moving closer to Will – miss Halt?

 

Will looked at her slowly, raising his eyebrows. Horacey immediately picked it up.

 

– Yes! That must be it – he said, raising his finger as if he’d just uncovered the greatest secret.

 

Will let out a heavy sigh.

 

– And how is that supposed to explain anything?

 

– It’s very simple – Cassandra smiled – You lived with him for several years. Now you probably miss his company.

 

Horacey nudged him in the side in a friendly way.

 

– Come on, admit you miss his grumbling. That’s probably why you feel like someone is watching you and calling you. Just like Halt.

 

Will only shook his head, but a faint smile appeared on his lips, ending the uncomfortable topic. They returned to other conversations, enjoying each other’s company. Yet in Will’s mind, where no one could hear, one thought kept drilling a hole in his stomach.

 

– They didn’t believe me. Them too.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Notes:

I also publish this story in my native Polish. If you’d like to read the original and see how it flows in the language it was first written in, here’s the https://archiveofourown.org/works/70822231/chapters/184124621

September 24, 1128

 

Will came home late in the evening. He closed the door behind him, leaving the autumn chill outside. He hung his cloak on the rack by the door. He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them a little.

 

His first steps led him to the fireplace. Soon the cabin grew warmer, and the fire cast a soothing glow inside the small house.
Satisfied, he nodded to himself and headed for the kitchen. He lit a candle on the table and boiled water for tea. He sprinkled some herbs into a ceramic cup.

 

– This will help me sleep – he thought, taking a sip of the warming drink.

 

He sat for a while in silence. He listened to the crackle of the firewood in the fireplace. He watched the candle flame throw shadows on the walls.

 

– It’s just a candle. Nothing more.

 

He set the cup in the sink – he would wash it in the morning. He stretched and blew out the candle. Tired, he went to his bedroom.

 

As soon as his head touched the pillow, he fell asleep almost instantly.

***

Thick fog wrapped around his body. His boots sank into the mud. The trees seemed to close in on him from all sides. They looked like silent witnesses, watching his every move. The moon shone brightly, casting pale light on the path that led out of the forest straight to an old manor. The silence around was heavy and suffocating. As if everything in this part of the woods had died.

 

Will took a deep breath. He wanted to go home. What was he even doing here? He had just gone to bed.

 

– Did I go out for a walk? No… I would remember.

 

But lately he had been so tired that it wouldn’t surprise him if he had gone out. Maybe he wanted some fresh air because he couldn’t sleep again? To catch his breath. But why here of all places?

 

He repeated in his mind once more, this time less certain – I would remember…

 

Cold wind slipped under his thin shirt, sending shivers down his back. Branches cracked ominously. Will’s heart beat faster.

 

He wanted to go back. Now. But his legs carried him the other way – toward the abandoned residence.

 

He crossed his arms over his chest, shivering from the cold. Even though his mind told him to turn back, his body did something else. The closer he got, the more he thought he could hear whispers.

 

– Maybe it’s just the leaves rustling in the wind? – he tried to reason – But since when do leaves whisper “Will’?

 

The whispers crawled into his head. They spread like a spiderweb, trapping every thought. They grew louder, closer, until suddenly…

 

A loud bang echoed.

 

Will’s eyes flew open.

 

For a moment he didn’t know where he was. Only after a while did awareness return.

 

His cabin. Bedroom. Bed.

 

He breathed deeply, as quietly as he could. He didn’t move – a Ranger’s training taking over. Only his hands tightened nervously on the wool blanket. He listened.

 

Silence. Only the crackle of wood in the fireplace, in the main room. A faint light slipped through the gap in the door.

 

Will slowly swept the bedroom with a restless gaze. He heard nothing unusual. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. But he felt it – the presence.

 

Blood pulsed in his temples. Without moving even a millimeter, he observed the room piece by piece. Slowly. Carefully. As if something could jump out of the shadows at any moment.

 

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours? In the dark room time seemed to stop.

 

Silence. Only the crackle of wood. No movement.

 

– Maybe I really am going crazy from lack of sleep – he thought bitterly.

 

He exhaled deeply and closed his eyes halfway. Still listening.

 

Only the crackle of wood in the fireplace.

 

He rested his head more comfortably on the feather pillow.

 

Silence. Only…

 

BANG!

 

As if something had fallen in the main room.

 

His eyes flew wide open. His heart pounded in his chest. His sweaty hands clenched tighter.

 

He thought he saw movement in the corner of the room. He froze. He wanted to get up, to reach for his knife, but his body was frozen.

 

He narrowed his eyes, staring at that one spot. Unmoving. Without blinking.

 

Again? No. Just his imagination.

 

– There’s no one here – he scolded himself. But no rational thought could pull his attention away from the dark corner.

 

Even in his mind, his voice trembled as he repeated – It’s just exhaustion. Just my mind.

 

Then the whispers returned. At first one voice. Then another. Until finally he felt the whole room was full of people calling his name.

 

Something began tapping. Harder. Louder.

 

Someone was calling his name, the sound piercing straight through him.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted to shut it all out. He only wanted to sleep.

 

But the tapping and the voice calling him didn’t stop.

 

Will.

 

Will.

 

Will.

***

 

September 25th, 1128 – morning.

– Will! Are you in there?

 

The boy opened his eyes. His sweaty hair stuck to his damp forehead. His quick breathing slowly began to steady.
It was already bright. Sunlight streamed through the window, cheerfully lighting up the room.

 

– Boy, if you make me wait any longer, I’ll come in myself, and you don’t want that.

 

Halt.

 

Will jumped out of bed at once. He went straight to the front door. He opened it, and there stood the familiar figure of his master.

 

Halt looked at his former apprentice with a critical eye.

 

– Just got up?

 

Will nodded meekly. The grim Ranger was about to deliver some biting remark, but instead he only sighed:

 

– Well. I hope at least today you slept properly.

 

They went inside. While Halt sat down at the table, Will went to change into a fresh shirt. When he found one, his eyes fell on the corner of the room.

 

It all came back. The forest. The manor. The movement in the shadows. The whispers. The tapping.

 

– So it was all… just a dream.

 

He almost laughed at himself. Twenty years old, and he had believed there was a ghost in his house.

 

– And the scary specter turned out to be Halt, who came to visit. Actually… that fits him.

 

He shook his head in amusement, changed his shirt, and went to the living room.

 

The cabin filled with the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

 

Will sat at the table across from Halt. The older Ranger watched him for a moment.

 

– Are you sure you’re feeling all right?

 

– Yes. I just had a crazy dream.

 

– Hm… – Halt grunted – A dream means you slept.

 

Will nodded and took a sip of warm coffee. For a while they sat in comfortable silence.

 

– So, did something bring you here? Or did you just miss your former apprentice? – the boy laughed.

 

Halt narrowed his eyes.

 

– I came to see how you’re doing.

 

His tone was as firm as always, but Will sensed the care hidden beneath it.

 

He gestured to himself.

 

– As you can see – I’m alive.

 

They talked a little longer. The wind whispered softly outside the window.

 

– I was at Baron Arald’s today – Halt said, staring into the flames in the fireplace – He’s giving a dinner next week. A small gathering for friends and for the aristocracy.

 

Will snorted in amusement.

 

– He never gives small gatherings.

 

The corner of Halt’s mouth twitched upward.

 

– Be that as it may, we’re invited too.

 

Will straightened in his chair. He didn’t really like big parties, but the thought of seeing his friends cheered him more than he would admit. And watching Halt among people – that was something.

 

– Apparently Erak and Svengal will be coming too. They’ll be visiting King Duncan. Some updates about the truce. Crowley said…

 

But Will was no longer listening. He tore his gaze away from his master.

 

Halt kept talking. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the change in Will. He sat like a statue. Stiff. Distant. Staring at the window. Wide eyes filled with panic. His hands clutched the mug tightly.

 

The older Ranger started drumming his fingers on the table. It felt as if he was suddenly sitting across from a completely different person.

 

– What’s going on with this boy? – Hey, Will. Are you even listening to me? – He snapped his fingers in front of his face.

 

Will snapped out of his trance.

 

– What? I… yes. The ball. Next week.

 

Halt frowned.

 

– What’s going on with you?

 

Will frowned back, not understanding.

 

– What’s supposed to be going on?

 

– We were talking, and then you just cut off.

 

– That’s not true. I was listening the whole time.

 

– You were staring out the window, completely gone.

 

– I was looking at you the whole time – Will said calmly, as if he truly believed it.

 

Halt sighed.

 

– What the hell. He’s looking out the window and doesn’t even remember? – he thought.

 

He only shook his head. The chair scraped as he rose from the table. He walked to the kitchen counter and set his mug down.

 

– Anyway – he said after a moment – in three days we’ve got another meeting. You’ll be there?

 

Will nodded, also standing up.

 

– I think that’s enough time off. I can’t just sit at home forever.

 

Halt gave a short nod. He headed for the door, and Will walked him out. Their steps echoed on the wooden floor.

 

The grim Ranger grabbed the handle, but halfway outside he turned back and said:

 

– Use these days to get proper rest. I can see not everything’s right yet.

 

The boy waved his hand.

 

– I already told you. Just a strange dream.

 

When his mentor mounted his horse and disappeared into the forest, Will closed the door. The sound of hooves outside slowly faded.

 

Then something caught his attention. His boots. His own boots. They were caked with mud.

 

Will froze. Only one thought filled his head:

 

– But… I would remember. Right?

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

September 28th, 1128 – morning.

 

Three days later, Will showed up at the meeting. A strong wind rustled outside the window, swaying the trees. The sky was overcast, and the air smelled of the coming rain.

 

Leander clasped his hands around the hot cup of coffee. Leaning back slightly in his chair, he noticed Will sitting wrapped in his Ranger’s cloak. If he could, he would probably hide inside it completely. As if, despite the fire in the hearth, he couldn’t shake off the cold. Every so often a sudden shiver ran through the boy’s body, as if someone were pouring cold water down his neck.

 

Berringan looked at the report lying in front of him. He made some notes, his quill scratching over the parchment. After a moment, his gaze drifted toward the youngest of them. Will was holding a document in his hand. Staring at it. For too long. Berringan saw it all too clearly. Confusion. Will’s brow was furrowed, his eyes full of puzzlement. As if the contents of the report refused to come together into a single, coherent whole. The older Ranger frowned.

 

– It’s just an ordinary report, not a philosophical essay.

 

Norris, though his eyes were fixed on the flames dancing in the hearth, listened carefully to everything Crowley was saying. When a branch from a nearby tree struck the window as if demanding attention, he looked that way. That’s when he saw Will. The boy had recoiled, pressing back into his chair. His shoulders tense. His eyes full of fear, fixed on the wall opposite. Norris glanced in that direction and narrowed his eyes. Nothing. An empty wall. His head turned back toward Will. The boy was now sitting normally, leaning back comfortably, as if nothing had happened.

 

– What the… – the Ranger muttered, taking a sip of coffee.

 

Halt, as always, sat straight with his arms crossed over his chest. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched his former apprentice. The boy claimed that three days of leave had been enough. But the grim Ranger could see clearly – they hadn’t. He noticed how Will kept trying to do something with his hands, as if unwilling to let them rest idly. He gripped the chair’s seat, picked up the empty coffee cup, clutching it so tightly his knuckles turned white. Then he lifted a quill, turning it over a few times. Next, he tapped his fingertips on the table. Crumpled the fabric of his cloak. Clenched his fists. But Halt wasn’t blind. All those gestures were driven by one thing – an attempt to hide the trembling.

 

The wind howled louder outside, moaning ominously through the cracks in the shutters.

 

Gilan rested his head on his arm as if he were already tired of the meeting. Which, in truth, he was. He had never been fond of paperwork. Suppressing a yawn, he glanced at Will.

 

– Looks like I’m not the only one who’s had enough – he murmured with a faint smile.

 

But after a moment, the smile faded. His younger friend looked terrible. Red eyes with none of their usual sparkle. Hollow cheeks. Skin turned grayish from exhaustion. Slumped shoulders. He looked as if he might fold in half and fall asleep right there on the table. Gilan shook his head sadly.

 

– If this goes on, he’s going to wear himself out.

 

Crowley kept turning his head toward Will. His brow twitched nervously whenever he saw the boy drift off again. He tried to ignore it and carry the meeting through to the end. But then he noticed Will’s pupils widen. Without breaking his stride, he waited to see what would happen next. Will’s breathing quickened slightly. His muscles tensed. As if he were bracing for a threat only he could see. The boy’s darting eyes swept the whole room. Instinctively, the commander glanced around as well. Aside from the Rangers, he saw no one. Yet Will’s gaze kept jumping from corner to corner.

 

– Enough – Crowley thought, rubbing his temple. Out loud he asked – And what do you think, Will?

 

Will lifted his head. He realized all eyes were on him. Crowley himself stared at him expectantly, arms crossed over his chest, no trace of amusement in his eyes.
The boy glanced at Gilan, searching for help. Then Halt spoke, his voice firm.

 

– The commander asked you a question.

 

Will’s cheeks flushed red.

 

– Uh… – he stammered – What was the question?

 

Crowley let out a heavy sigh. Gilan lowered his eyes and bit his lip. The older Rangers muttered under their breath in disapproval. Will felt Halt’s heavy gaze on him. At that moment, he wished the ground would swallow him whole.

 

– I asked – the commander repeated firmly – if you had any ideas on how to handle the matter of the burned barn.

 

– The burned barn?

 

– Mmhm.

 

– When? Where? – Will asked, completely bewildered.

 

– Yesterday. In the village. At one of the farms – the commander replied sharply – It was all in the report. Did you even read it?

 

– I… I did. Yes. But… – he swallowed nervously – It’s like… I don’t remember any of it.

 

Norris snorted.

 

– A Ranger who can’t remember what was in the report is a rather poor Ranger.

 

Crowley shook his head, clearly displeased.

 

– Will, this can’t go on. You have to know what’s happening.

 

– I know – Will replied, ashamed – I’m sorry.

 

– Sorry won’t fix anything – Halt cut in.

 

Will looked at him, surprised. He hadn’t heard that tone directed at him in a long time. He clenched his teeth. He knew a longer reprimand was coming.

 

– You’re a Ranger, Will. Not a student anymore. And you have duties. One of them is reading reports. Reading them carefully.

 

The others averted their eyes, as if they didn’t want to interfere. Gilan listened, drumming his fingers on his knee. Crowley stood firm, slowly nodding in agreement with what his friend was saying.

 

– I know – Will answered quietly, without looking at his mentor.

 

– Then why aren’t you doing what you’re supposed to do?

 

Halt narrowed his eyes, not taking them off him. Whatever was going on, he couldn’t allow Will to neglect his duties. That was unacceptable.

 

Will felt trapped. He wanted to shrink away and disappear. It was as if Halt’s gaze pinned him to the chair.

 

– I’m still waiting for an answer, boy – Halt pressed.

 

The boy opened his mouth to reply, but then Gilan came to his aid.

 

– Still not sleeping well? – his voice carried genuine concern.

 

A small thing. But compared to the reprimands he had just heard, it was like a ray of light in the darkness closing in on him.

 

– No – Will answered shortly, looking at him gratefully.

 

Leander tossed his quill aside and leaned back in his chair, which creaked.

 

– Damn it, boy. You were given a few days off.

 

Will shrugged.

 

– They didn’t help.

 

Norris clicked his tongue, reaching for his cup of coffee. Gilan propped his chin on his hand and exhaled loudly through his nose.

 

Silence fell over the room, broken only by the crackling fire and the wind rustling outside.

 

– Do you need more time? – Crowley asked after a moment, his tone gentler this time.

 

Will shook his head.

 

– It won’t change anything – he muttered softly, staring at the dark wood grain on the table.

 

The commander only sighed and took a few steps away, turning his back to Will.

 

– All right. But in that case, you need to think about what comes next, Will. A Ranger must always be prepared.

 

– Right. I’ll… sort it out somehow. And catch up on the reports.

 

Crowley turned back to the boy and gave him a faint smile.

 

– I believe you will – he tried to encourage him, though deep down he wasn’t entirely convinced himself.

 

Will returned the smile and glanced at Halt, but the older Ranger, brow furrowed, kept staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable.

***

September 28th, 1128 – afternoon.

 

That same day, later in the afternoon, Gilan and Will patrolled the area. The cold wind did not let up, and above them loomed the threat of rain, as if the downpour were simply waiting for the right moment.

 

The routine patrol passed without major trouble. Along the way they found only a few illegal traps for game, which they disarmed.

 

– We’ll need to report this – Gilan said, cutting through snares hidden in the tall grass.

 

During the ride, the Ranger kept watching Will. Crowley had warned him earlier to pay attention to the boy’s strange behavior.

 

– What “strange behavior”? – Gilan had asked, fastening his cloak and furrowing his brow.

 

– Well… – the commander scratched his head, struggling to find the words – Does he stare straight ahead, focused, or does he look like he’s searching around? Does he tense up? Do his hands tremble…

 

– Are you serious? – Gilan asked, crossing his arms, a hint of irritation in his voice – He can barely stand from exhaustion, and you’re starting to treat him like a paranoid?

 

Crowley opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. He opened it once more, but still found no words.

 

– It’s not about making him out to be something, Gilan – Halt interjected from the armchair in the corner – We just have to be sure he’s fit for duty.

 

Gilan turned to him slowly, narrowing his eyes.

 

– Of all people – he ground out through clenched teeth – you should know he’s one of the best Rangers.

 

Halt didn’t even blink. He answered firmly:

 

– I know. And that’s exactly why I don’t want his lack of sleep to change that.

 

Gilan shook his head at the memory of that conversation. Well. Will wasn’t doing anything unusual. And though Gilan wouldn’t admit it, he felt a wave of relief because of it.

 

– Hey, Will – he finally spoke up – Not sleeping?

 

The boy lifted his weary head as if it weighed a ton. He glared at him and smiled faintly.

 

– Very funny, Gilan. Very funny.

 

The older Ranger grinned wide.

 

– You know… I’m just worried. Any moment now you’ll fall off your horse, and then what? I’ll have to haul you home like a sack of potatoes.

 

Will snorted with amusement.

 

– Come on, admit it. I’d be your favorite sack of potatoes.

 

– You got me there – Gilan rode closer and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

 

For one brief moment, instead of heavy silence, there was genuine laughter. But that was enough.

 

The trees began to thin out as they reached the edge of the forest. A cold shiver ran down Will’s neck. Gilan noticed.

 

– Cold?

 

Will stared straight ahead for a while, as if thinking something over. He spoke only after a pause.

 

– Don’t you feel like it’s colder here than in that part of the forest? – he answered with a question.

 

Gilan straightened in the saddle. He lifted his head, as if he needed to feel for himself whether his friend was right. After a moment, he shook his head.

 

– I don’t notice much difference.

 

Will shrugged and tried to keep his tone light.

 

– Maybe I just feel colder because I’m not sleeping enough.

 

They rode on a bit further, and Will wrinkled his nose, the way he always did when something was on his mind.

 

– What is it?

 

– Gilan, is it just me… or are there no animals here?

 

His friend looked at him with a spark in his eyes.

 

– Are you kidding me? Of course you can hear the birds singing.

 

Will stared at him, honestly puzzled. His eyes seemed to ask “Where?”
Gilan grew serious when he saw the true confusion in his younger companion. Uncertain, he tilted his head upward and gestured toward the trees.

 

– Well… there – he said hesitantly.

 

Will kept watching him for a while, as if to make sure Gilan wasn’t joking. At last he shrugged again.

 

– If you say so.

 

The older Ranger didn’t know what to think.

 

– Is he messing with me? Testing how I’ll react…? Or is he really so exhausted that some things don’t even register?

 

He only sighed and moved forward, shielding his eyes with his hand as the wind stirred up leaves and dust.

Suddenly Will stopped. Gilan did the same and turned his head in the same direction as his friend. Calmly, he looked at the path leading out of the forest straight to the old manor. Nothing unusual.
But Will clenched his hands on the reins so tightly his knuckles turned white. His horse, sensing his master’s unease, snorted nervously and stomped its hoof into the damp earth, leaving a deep mark.

 

– Will? Are you alright?

 

– Have you ever been there? – he asked without taking his eyes off the estate.

 

Gilan glanced again at the manor.

 

– In that house? – he scratched his chin, and when Will gave a small nod, he answered – No. No one in their right mind goes inside.

 

– Why? Because… it’s haunted?

 

Gilan shot him a look, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. He couldn’t resist.

 

– Yeah. Gives you chills. Especially the roof caving in.

 

Only then did Will turn to face him. Both of them burst into laughter.

 

– Seriously though, Will, that manor’s been abandoned for years. I’ve no idea why. After the last owners left, nobody ever wanted to buy it – He cast his friend a curious look – But really, why are you suddenly interested? It hasn’t exactly popped up yesterday – He crossed his arms, trying to appear serious.

 

Will only looked at him, as if to say “Don’t even try to look serious, you’re terrible at it”.

 

– Just because… – he explained, though Gilan immediately realized it wasn’t “just because”.

 

– Will… you know you can tell me anything, right? – this time his tone was genuinely earnest.

 

The younger ranger stubbornly stared at the ground, as though it had suddenly become very interesting. Gilan tugged lightly at his sleeve, forcing him to meet his gaze.

 

When their eyes met, the older ranger smiled and gave a small nod, encouraging him to speak.

 

Will drew a shaky breath.

 

– That manor… it’s been showing up in my dreams. Quite often, actually. In fact… every night.

 

Gilan tilted his head, unsure of what to say.

 

Before he could gather his thoughts, Will suddenly stiffened. His hands began to tremble, his breathing quickened.

 

– Will? – Gilan asked, alarm creeping into his voice – What’s wrong?

 

The boy didn’t answer. His jaw clenched so tightly his teeth ground together, and his eyes darted frantically among the trees. Terror shone clear in them.

 

Gilan followed his gaze, searching for any sign of danger. His hand rested on his bow, ready. He scanned the woods – the trees, the underbrush, the shifting shadows. Yet no matter how hard he strained his eyes, he saw nothing unusual. The trees swayed in the wind as before. Birds still chirped undisturbed. Even the horses sensed no threat.

 

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. His eyes flicked back to Will – still staring, still jumping from tree to tree as if tracking an unseen enemy. His whole body shook.

 

Gilan slowly placed a hand on his shoulder. Careful, gentle, so as not to startle him.

 

– Will… – Panic edged into Gilan’s voice. He had no idea what to do – Hey! It’s all right. Nothing’s happening. There’s nothing here.

 

But Will didn’t hear him. It was as if a wall had risen between them, blocking every word.

 

– What the hell am I supposed to do? – Gilan thought frantically.

 

At last he grabbed Will’s other shoulder and gave him a firm but gentle shake.

 

– Will, for God’s sake, what’s going on? Answer me!

 

That was when Will blinked out of it. His heart still hammered like it was about to break free from his chest, but he looked Gilan in the eyes. His breathing began to steady. Reality seemed to creep back in.

 

Gilan didn’t let go. His fingers clenched tightly into his friend’s cloak, as if to say “Easy. I’m here”.

 

What was that? Was this the strange behavior Crowley and Halt had spoken of? He didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know what to say.

 

Will spoke first, whispering in a trembling voice:

 

– Don’t leave me alone with this.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

– Don’t leave me alone with this.

 

Those words echoed in Gilan’s ears long after they were spoken.

The Ranger almost instantly pulled back the hand he’d placed on Will’s shoulder, as if it had burned him. He was breathing heavily. He didn’t understand. The forest was calm. No danger, just the two of them. And yet Will was trembling like in a fever.

 

He frowned.

 

– Something’s really wrong here. With the forest? Or with him…?

 

He cast a cool, assessing look at his companion. Will was pale as chalk. His fingernails dug into his palms so hard they left red marks. His eyes – moments ago darting wildly around as if seeing something no one else could – were now fixed only on him.

 

Gilan turned his gaze away, unable to bear the pleading and sheer terror shining in those eyes. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He didn’t know what to say.
Will lowered his head in defeat. The silence stretched on between them, tense and heavy, broken only by the whisper of the wind.

 

– Don’t leave me…

 

The older Ranger sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a moment. Then he reached out, gently lifting Will’s chin so the boy would look him straight in the eye. He held his gaze for a long moment before saying softly but firmly:

 

– I won’t. Ever.

 

Will exhaled shakily. His shoulders eased, as if a great weight had just been lifted off him. Gilan gave him a faint, reassuring smile.

 

– Come on – he said quietly – We’ll stop by the inn, and you can tell me everything there.

***

28 September 1128 – Evening.

 

The roadside inn At the Crossroads was, as always, full of people. Travelers stopped in for a hot meal and a bed for the night, while locals dropped by for a pint or two.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stewed meat and roasted vegetables. A bard played in the corner by the window, and a few guests clapped cheerfully to the rhythm of his tune.

 

Will and Gilan took a table in the corner, away from the crowd. The innkeeper brought them each a mug of beer they’d ordered earlier.

After the day’s tense events, the older Ranger took a long gulp right away. Will, meanwhile, stared at the amber liquid for a while, as if searching for answers in it.

 

– Seeing something in there too? – Gilan asked suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts.

 

Will only lifted his tired eyes to him and lowered his head again. Gilan’s smile faded instantly. He frowned, concern etching across his face.

 

– Will… what’s going on?

 

The boy only shrugged in response. He took a sip of beer. His throat was so tight he barely swallowed it. He set the mug down heavily, fixing his gaze on the table. For a while, he toyed with the handle of the tin cup.

 

– Will… – again that gentle tone – Little one…

 

At those words, Will flinched and finally lifted his head to meet Gilan’s eyes. The older Ranger sat with his chin resting on his hand. There was no anger or judgment in his eyes — only concern.

Will licked his dry lips, ran a hand over his face, hunched his shoulders, and said quietly:

 

– You wouldn’t believe me anyway.

 

Gilan tilted his head slightly.

 

– Have I ever not believed you?

 

Will allowed himself a faint smile.

 

– Yeah. When I told you it wasn’t me who ate your cookies.

 

Gilan chuckled.

 

– I had reason to doubt you that time. And I was right.

 

The tension between them eased a little. The bard struck up a lively tune, the innkeeper shouted, “Who ordered the stew?!”, and outside, someone was yelling a string of colorful insults.

Will took another sip of beer and wiped the foam from his lip with the back of his hand.

 

– You remember when… I said I kept hearing things?

 

– I remember – Gilan replied, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

 

– It’s still happening.

 

– What do you mean?

 

Will gripped his mug so tightly that his hands trembled.

 

– I mean I don’t even know what’s real anymore… and what’s just a dream.

 

Somewhere across the inn, a glass shattered. Gilan glanced in that direction out of reflex but quickly turned his eyes back to Will. He wanted to say something – to reassure him – but no words came. He lowered his gaze instead.

 

They sat in silence again, the kind that slowly ate away at them both. Finally, Will spoke quietly:

 

– Maybe… maybe there really is something wrong with me.

 

– What do you mean?

 

– Maybe I’m going insane – Will’s voice broke, and fear flickered in his eyes.

 

Gilan immediately leaned forward and placed a steady hand over Will’s.

 

– Don’t say that. You’re just exhausted. That’s all.

 

– Exhausted? Gilan, I hear voices! I feel someone’s presence! You call that exhaustion?

 

– Will…

 

– Told you you wouldn’t believe me – Will muttered, pulling his hand away and hiding it under the table.

 

Gilan studied him from beneath his brows. The dark eyes that usually carried a spark of humor were dim now. And Will himself looked different – quiet, distant. His movements were restless, his eyes constantly searching the empty air for something unseen.
The older Ranger shook his head slightly. It was strange. In the forest earlier, Will had truly looked like someone losing touch with reality.

 

Gilan rested his elbows on the table and forced a faint smile.

 

– Will. You’re not alone.

 

The boy snorted softly, but Gilan went on.

 

– Whatever’s happening, we’ll handle it. I’m not leaving you alone in this.

 

Will laughed, but it sounded more like a choked sob.

 

– What, you’re gonna be my therapist now?

 

Gilan narrowed his eyes.

 

– If I have to. But don’t expect a family discount.

 

The younger Ranger burst out laughing – and in that sound were all the things he hadn’t been able to say: relief, disbelief, gratitude. For the first time in days, he didn’t feel completely alone with what haunted him.

 

Seeing that, Gilan smiled broadly for the first time that evening. He lifted his mug and clinked it gently against Will’s.

***

29 September 1128 – morning.

 

The Baron’s castle was shrouded in a thick morning fog. Heavy clouds hid the sky, draping Redmont in autumn melancholy. Raindrops slid down the windowpanes, tracing thin, watery lines.

 

Inside Baron Arald’s study, the fireplace filled the room with pleasant warmth. Jugs of steaming mead stood on the table. Despite the chill outside, the atmosphere here was cozy and calm.

 

Baron Arald was leaning over a large map spread across the table. Sir Rodney exchanged remarks with one of his men while refilling his goblet. Two advisors stood by the window, locked in a heated political debate.

Will stood by the fire, warming his frozen hands. He didn’t speak to anyone. The flickering flames danced in his pupils.

 

At last, Baron Arald straightened up and stretched, feeling the familiar ache in his back.

 

– Gentlemen, if we may, let’s get back to work.

 

– If we must… – sighed one knight, drawing laughter from the room. Sir Rodney patted him on the back.

 

Arald’s gaze fell on Will. The boy still stood motionless, like a statue.

 

– Ahem… Will – he cleared his throat.

 

No response. The Baron smiled faintly to himself.

 

– And they say Rangers have perfect hearing – he muttered, stepping closer.

 

He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

 

– Come on. Let’s get back to...

 

The moment his hand brushed Will’s cloak, the boy flinched violently, jumping back as if burned. Startled, the Baron took a step back and bumped into one of his advisors.

 

– Hey! – the man yelped as Arald stepped on his foot.

 

Everyone turned in surprise. Will was breathing fast, staring at the Baron with wide eyes. It took him a moment to realize what he’d done.

 

– Are you all right, lad?

 

– I… yes. My apologies, Your Lordship. I was lost in thought.

 

The advisor frowned, rubbing his foot.

 

– Next time, try to be more aware of your surroundings.

 

The Baron waved it off with a warm smile, amusement in his eyes.

 

– No harm done. Come along. We’ve still got things to discuss.

 

They returned to the table. Sir Rodney handed Will a cup of hot mead.

 

– Now then – Arald pointed at the map – A new group of bandits has been sighted recently. They’re moving from village to village, raiding farms.

 

Sir Rodney added:

 

– Rumor has it they’re a large, organized bunch.

 

One advisor scratched his head.

 

– Then we should send out squadrons of knights. Catch them on the road if possible.

 

The second advisor clapped his hands in agreement.

 

– Yes, an excellent idea! Patrols through the forests and across the fields.

 

Sir Rodney stroked his mustache thoughtfully.

 

– Hm… I agree. In fact, I already have someone in mind to lead one of the groups – he looked at the young knight standing beside him.

 

The young knight grinned broadly, his eyes lighting up like a child’s at a fair.

 

– We only need to choose the right area to set up the patrols – Baron Arald rubbed his hands together in satisfaction – And that’s exactly why we have a Ranger here today – he said proudly, gesturing toward Will.

 

But Will didn’t react. He was clutching the cup Sir Rodney had handed him, staring into it intently – as if the entire meeting held no meaning for him at all. Silence fell over the room. The only sound was the steady rhythm of raindrops tapping against the window – faster, heavier, louder.

The Baron’s extended hand froze midair. Sir Rodney took a sip of his mead. The young knight shifted from foot to foot. One advisor cleared his throat, another scoffed impatiently. Will stood motionless, eyes empty, fixed on the drink in his cup.

 

Sir Rodney was the first to break the silence.

 

– Will… Will!

 

The boy’s head snapped up. Seeing he’d regained his attention, the master knight gave a gentle smile.

 

– Could you point out a suitable area for us?

 

– A suitable area for what? – Will stammered.

 

– For heaven’s sake! – burst out one of the advisors – Boy, were you even listening?!

 

Baron Arald immediately stepped in.

 

– Easy, easy. No need to get worked up. Will – he turned again to the bewildered Ranger – We need to station knights around the area to catch a group of thieves. Could you mark the best spots on the map for us?

 

– After all, you Rangers know the land best – the young knight said, his tone meant to sound complimentary but his crossed arms and lifted chin gave it away as mockery.

 

Will set his cup down and leaned over the map. Sir Rodney noticed how unfocused the boy’s eyes were and frowned but kept quiet.

 

After a moment, Will straightened.

 

– I think the best positions would be here and here – he said, pointing at the parchment.

 

– Here?! – one of the advisors exclaimed, rushing over to the table.

 

Will blinked, confused by his outrage.

 

Sir Rodney sighed in disappointment.

 

– Will, those are marshlands.

 

Will quickly glanced back at the map. Indeed – they were clearly marked. He should have known those areas like the back of his hand.

 

He swallowed hard.

 

– I… I’m sorry.

 

– Sorry?! – the second advisor snapped – You’d drown our knights!

 

The young knight laughed mockingly.

 

– Then your “sorry” wouldn’t be worth much. Just like your help right now.

 

– Julian… – Sir Rodney warned.

 

– No, no, Rodney. He’s right.

 

Will’s cheeks burned with shame. He lowered his head, fingers twisting nervously.

 

Baron Arald rubbed his temples, then leaned toward the young Ranger.

 

– Is something wrong, my boy?

 

Will lifted his reddened eyes. Words stuck in his throat. The others watched him — Sir Rodney tense, Julian sneering, the advisors fuming.

 

At last, he managed to whisper:

 

– I think I’ve just… been a little tired lately.

 

Julian snorted, and the advisors shook their heads in disapproval. The Baron sighed deeply.

 

– Well, Will… Don’t take this the wrong way, but if something’s troubling you, you should speak to Crowley. He’s your superior.

 

– I know… – Will muttered – I’ll talk to him.

 

Arald studied him for a few more seconds, then nodded and turned back to the others.

 

– Let’s continue, then.

 

– I can review the map again – Will offered, taking a hesitant step forward. But one advisor’s sharp words froze him in place.

 

– We don’t need the help of someone so incompetent.

 

– Exactly – the other chimed in, nodding vigorously – You’ll only cause more harm than good.

 

Will froze. He looked at Sir Rodney, but the knight quickly averted his gaze. Julian was already leaning over the map, eager to take over. The advisors muttered under their breath, questioning how someone like him ever became a Ranger.

 

– I think we can manage on our own now, Will.

 

The boy flinched — the Baron’s tone was far more serious than usual.

 

– But… – he tried weakly – I really can help—

 

The Baron only frowned.

 

– Not this time. You may go.

 

Will’s shoulders sagged, as if the air had been let out of him. He murmured a quiet “understood” and left the room. When the door closed behind him, Arald exhaled heavily.

 

– What’s happening to that boy?

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

29th September 1128 – noon.

 

The sound of Cassandra’s and Horace’s boots echoed along the cloister. The wind slipped softly between the columns.
The princess was gesturing animatedly as she spoke, and the young knight nodded along with interest.

 

On the low wall ahead, they spotted a familiar figure. Will sat slightly hunched, staring blankly at the nearby hedges.

 

– Hey, Will! – Horace called out.

 

The Ranger turned his head slowly, forcing a smile onto his face.

 

– Hey.

 

Cassandra and Horace exchanged a glance. There was none of Will’s usual lightness in his tone.

 

– Did something happen? – the girl asked, a worried crease forming on her forehead.

 

Will’s gaze dropped to the stone floor.

 

– Nothing…

 

– We can see that’s not true – Horace said, stepping in front of him.

 

– It’s just… – Will sighed heavily – I messed up the meeting with Baron Arald.

 

The knight’s eyes widened in disbelief.

 

– You? How?

 

– They wanted to position guard patrols around the area. Asked me for the best terrain and I… – he rubbed the back of his neck – I tried to send them into the marshes.

 

Horace snorted with laughter, and Cassandra elbowed him in the ribs.

 

– What? At worst they’d have gotten their boots stuck.

 

The princess only sighed at her friend’s stupid joke. She sat beside Will, adjusting his cloak.

 

– Will, everyone makes mistakes.

 

– Mhmm.

 

– It’s nothing serious.

 

– You didn’t see their faces! – the boy suddenly sprang to his feet – They looked at me like I’d sentenced an entire patrol to death. Those advisors… and that perfect knight – Julian.

 

– Julian’s a jerk – Horace said casually – No surprise he thinks he’s better than everyone else.

 

Will paced a few steps, clearly not comforted by his friend’s words.

 

– The worst part is that Arald just told me to leave.

 

– Leave? – Cassandra tilted her head in disbelief.

 

Will’s shoulders slumped.

 

– Yeah – he said quietly – Said they’d manage without me. Like I wasn’t needed. I messed up.

 

Horace frowned with concern.

 

– Will, it happens to everyone.

 

– No! – Will cut him off sharply, irritation in his voice – Don’t you get it? I was Halt’s apprentice. I can’t afford mistakes like that!

 

The princess and the knight exchanged a surprised look. They couldn’t remember Will ever raising his voice like this.

 

He took a few deep breaths and looked at their startled faces. Rubbing his hand over his face, he forced a crooked smile.

 

– Sorry. I just… I can’t let myself make mistakes. I can’t disappoint Halt.

 

Cassandra cleared her throat and smoothed her skirt.

 

– It’s fine. We get that you’re worried.

 

An uneasy silence followed. Only the branches outside rustled in the wind, as if feeling the tension too. Cassandra changed the subject.

 

– There’s a feast coming soon. You’re coming, right?

 

– I don’t really have a choice.

 

– You’ll relax a little. You need that. – Horace chuckled. – We’ll have a drink, talk… maybe you’ll even dance.

 

– Absolutely not – Will denied instantly.

 

Cassandra snorted.

 

– Of course. Rangers don’t dance.

 

– I’m just glad Erak and Svengal will be there – added Horace. – Haven’t seen them in ages.

 

– Oh yes – the princess agreed. – It’s going to be—

 

Will turned suddenly. His shoulders tensed, as if expecting an attack. Horace’s hand shot to his sword hilt.

 

– Something wrong? – he asked, unease in his voice.

 

Will didn’t answer. His head tilted slightly to the side, as if he were listening to something.

 

– Will? – Cassandra stood up, biting her lip.

 

Silence. Nothing happened. Yet Will began darting his gaze around frantically. His neck muscles tightened as he kept tilting his head left and right. Again and again, turning in place, faster each time, panic growing in his eyes.

 

– Will, what’s happening? – Horace asked, alarmed. Cassandra watched, terrified, as her friend’s breathing quickened.

 

She saw his clenched fists — as if that alone could keep him anchored to reality. Horace’s brows shot up. His sword hand fell uselessly to his side. He looked helplessly at Cassandra.

 

– Uh… Will?

 

But the Ranger didn’t respond. The corridor filled with the sound of quick breathing and the scuff of boots on stone.

 

Horace made a move toward him, but seeing the wild fear in Will’s eyes, he froze mid-step. Cassandra couldn’t stand it anymore.

 

– Will! Calm down!

 

The Ranger stopped abruptly, as if her shout had snapped him back to reality. His face was pale, a cold sweat trickled down his neck. His trembling fists slowly loosened. Cassandra frowned. Horace opened his mouth, but no words came. He had never seen Will like this.

 

– What’s happening to you? – the girl asked.

 

– I… – Will straightened his shirt nervously – I have to go.

 

Before they could stop him, the Ranger was gone. For a while, no one spoke. They were trying to process what they had just witnessed. Finally, Horace broke the silence.

 

– What was that?

 

– I don’t know – Cassandra replied firmly.

 

– Maybe… maybe he’s losing it from lack of sleep?

 

– Whatever it is – she said, crossing her arms – I don’t like it.

 

***

29th September 1128 – afternoon.

 

Not long after lunch, Horace headed to the training grounds. Even though he was no longer a student, he still made sure to stay in shape and refine his skills.

 

He approached the worn-out training dummy.

 

– Hello there, old friend – he chuckled under his breath – Don’t take it personally, but I’m about to kick your ass.

 

He adjusted his belt to make sure it was secure and drew his sword. He was just about to strike when a voice called from behind him.

 

– Horace!

 

The knight sighed, lowering his weapon. He turned and forced a polite smile.

 

– Hello, Julian.

 

The tall blond man walked up, smiling brightly. They shook hands.

 

– Training?

 

– Mhm.

 

– You? I’d say you don’t need it anymore.

 

– Everyone needs to train – Horace shrugged – Just because I’m not a student doesn’t mean I’m perfect.

 

– Wise words. – Julian clapped once. – Shame some people don’t understand that.

 

Horace gave him a questioning look, and the other knight elaborated.

 

– You know… – he began, rubbing the back of his neck as if awkwardly – that friend of yours… what’s his name again? Will?

 

– What about him? – Horace asked, already guessing this was about the morning meeting with Baron Arald.

 

– He could use a few more years of training – Julian joked.

 

But Horace didn’t laugh. His brows furrowed.

 

– Everyone makes mistakes. And he only just finished his apprenticeship.

 

– Oh, sure – the blond raised his hands in mock agreement – Nobody’s perfect. But… his behaviour is a bit… – he looked up to the sky as if searching for the word – strange.

 

– What do you mean?

 

– You know, he was staring into the fire like he didn’t even know where he was. Reacting nervously, like he completely lost touch with reality.

 

Horace’s hand clenched tighter around his sword hilt. The description matched exactly what he and Cassandra had witnessed earlier that day.

 

A sly smile flickered across Julian’s face. He understood that Horace was starting to piece it together.

 

– He’s just been tired lately – Horace tried to defend Will, though his tone sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

 

– A tired man doesn’t look like that – Julian protested, resting his hands on his hips – That looked like…

 

– Like what?

 

– Like something’s wrong with his head.

 

– How dare you talk about my friend like that?! – Horace hissed so sharply that spit flew from his lips.

 

Julian took a cautious step back.

 

– Think about it – he said gently – That’s not normal behaviour. And it’s been going on for a while now.

 

Seeing Horace hesitate, Julian stepped closer again.

 

– I’m not trying to be cruel – he said, placing a hand on the other knight’s shoulder – But I think whatever’s happening with Will… it’s something serious. Something inside.

 

Horace bit his lip nervously. He wanted to deny it. To shrug Julian’s hand off. But those words hit him hard. There was something… true about them. Something he didn’t want to admit — yet couldn’t ignore.

 

He finally replied quietly:

 

– I’ll discuss it with the others.

 

Julian nodded approvingly.

 

– You understand, don’t you, Horace? A Ranger who’s not right in the head… isn’t a good Ranger.

 

– I know – Horace growled, but his anger wasn’t aimed at Julian. It was at the situation.

 

– He could be a danger — to himself and to others.

 

And though Julian walked away, the echo of his words lingered in Horace’s mind long after he was gone.

***

29th September 1128 – evening.

 

Redmont had long since fallen into darkness when Halt entered Baron Arald’s study. He ran a hand through his hair, damp from the drizzle, and sat across from the baron.

 

– You wanted to see me, Your Lordship.

 

The baron immediately pushed aside the papers he’d been reading and nodded.

 

– That’s right, Halt. I wanted to talk about Will.

 

The Ranger frowned.

 

– Did something happen?

 

– Well, as you know, he attended the council meeting today. His advice was rather… out of place.

 

Halt cleared his throat.

 

– He’s still learning.

 

– Yes, but – Arald rubbed his tired face – it’s not just that.

 

– Then what is it? – Halt asked, shifting in his chair.

 

– There’s… something wrong with him. The way he answers, the way he reacts...

 

Arald looked at his friend — his most trusted Ranger.

 

– Something’s not right with him, Halt.

 

The words hit Halt like a punch to the gut. His first instinct was to slam his fist on the desk and deny everything. But he couldn’t. He’d seen it too — the way Will did things he didn’t remember later, how jumpy he’d become, how he couldn’t seem to focus even on simple tasks.

 

A surge of anger flashed through him. And now, on top of everything else, the boy had embarrassed himself in front of the baron and the council. Will. His apprentice.

 

– That’s not what I taught him. That’s not how I raised him – Halt thought grimly.

 

The baron waited patiently. The candlelight on the desk cast a soft glow across his face. He folded his hands and continued:

 

– No one wants to see him hurt. But you understand we can’t allow a Ranger—

 

– I know – Halt snapped.

 

Arald lowered his head.

 

– I thought you should hear it from me.

 

Halt gave a curt nod. The chair creaked as he stood abruptly. Pulling his hood over his head, he said:

 

– You thought right, Your Lordship. I’ll have a word with him.

 

The baron silently acknowledged that and turned back to his reports. He sighed quietly as the door closed behind the Ranger.

 

Halt strode down the dimly lit corridor, moving quickly. Outwardly calm, inside he was seething. He didn’t know what was happening to Will — but he’d made up his mind. He would get to the bottom of it before the boy caused any more trouble.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

September 30th, 1128 – morning.

 

The cabin filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Halt set two clay mugs on the table and glanced out the window. Will should be arriving any moment now. The boy often stopped by for a visit, and though Halt would never admit it, he looked forward to every one of them. He had feared that after finishing his apprenticeship, Will would no longer have time for his grumpy old mentor — would forget about him. But this was Will. He could never forget the man who had given him a home, a future, and a family.
Because that’s what the seven Rangers were — a family. Though their personalities couldn’t have been more different, they had grown close over the years. They hadn’t even noticed when exactly it happened — when they became inseparable. A family, not by blood, but by heart.

 

But this day was different. Halt wasn’t waiting with a smile. His jaw was clenched as he thought about how to bring up the delicate topic. For several days now, he hadn’t liked the way his former apprentice had been behaving. Back in the cabin, Will had seemed strangely distant. Halt had let it slide then, blaming it on exhaustion. But now, with rumors spreading and the first complaints reaching his ears, he cursed himself for ignoring the signs. This time, he couldn’t overlook it. A Ranger couldn’t make such mistakes — especially his Ranger.

 

He sighed heavily and looked back out the window. The fog was beginning to lift, giving way to sunlight that fell across the damp grass. And though the weather outside was bright and clear, the clouds in Halt’s mind refused to break — no amount of sunlight could chase them away.

 

Through the trees, a familiar figure emerged. The cloak swayed with every step.
Halt stepped away from the window and opened the door before the boy could even knock.

 

– Been watching for me? – Will asked, a faint smile appearing on his tired face.

 

Halt narrowed his eyes slightly, giving him a quick but careful once-over. His pale complexion nearly blended with his cloak, and there was something heavy in his eyes — something the Ranger couldn’t quite name. He cleared his throat and looked away.

 

– I just happened to be standing by the window.

 

Will shot him a sideways glance, his grin turning mischievous.

 

– Yhym. You always just happen to be standing by the window.

 

The corner of Halt’s mouth twitched upward despite himself. Of course he was always waiting for the boy. But would he ever admit it? Never.

 

The floorboards creaked softly as he stepped back inside, and Will followed him. He was about to toss his cloak over the chair, but one pointed ahem from Halt was enough to make him hang it neatly on the hook by the door. His eyes wandered across the familiar room he’d once shared with his mentor.

 

– There – he pointed at the bookshelf. – There’s dust.

 

Halt turned over his shoulder.

 

– Then you can clean it – he said evenly.

 

Will snorted and sat across from him at the table, reaching for his mug of beloved black liquid.

 

– We’ll see if you made the coffee right. If you did, maybe I’ll think about it.

 

Halt shook his head.

 

– You ungrateful little rascal – he muttered under his breath and took a sip of the warming drink.

 

The fire crackled softly, and the smell of burning wood wrapped the room in quiet calm. It was just like old times — the two of them and a cup of hot coffee. No words. Just silence that spoke for them both.

 

Halt wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, displeased but resolute in his decision. Because today, those particular words had to be said.

 

– What’s going on with you, Will?

 

The boy lifted his head. The smile vanished from his face, like steam fading from the cup before him. He didn’t like the sudden change in his mentor’s tone.

 

– Is something wrong?

 

– You tell me – Halt crossed his arms, as if bracing for a fight.

 

Will gripped his mug so tightly his knuckles turned white. The crackling of the fireplace suddenly felt less comforting.

 

– I don’t know, Halt – he admitted honestly. – Lately–

 

– You’re tired, I know – the older Ranger cut him off sharply. – But that can’t keep being your excuse. You’re distracted, unfocused, making careless mistakes.

 

– You already know? – the boy asked, a flicker of fear in his voice.

 

– About what happened at Baron Arald’s? I know.

 

Will lowered his gaze, feeling his cheeks burn. Of course Halt had found out. He shifted uneasily in his chair, which creaked softly — as if even it dreaded what was about to come.

 

– What’s behind all this?

 

Will looked at him uncertainly, weighing his words.

 

– I told you already… I hear… something.

 

– It’s just your imagination – Halt scoffed.

 

– So you don’t believe me either?

 

Hearing the raw hurt in his voice, the older Ranger averted his eyes — as if needing to find some certainty that was slipping away the longer he looked at the boy. He didn’t believe in magic or in strange phenomena.

 

– I believe in what I see – he said quietly after a moment. – And what I see is a boy who’s getting lost inside his own head.

 

Will flinched. The words hit him like stones. He no longer knew how to defend himself.

 

– I’m scared, Halt – he whispered.

 

– Of what?!

 

– I don’t know! – the young Ranger shouted, for the first time raising his voice to his mentor. – That’s the problem — I don’t know!

 

– Then maybe you should go see Malcolm.

 

Sparks shot up from the fireplace as a log split in two. Will turned slowly toward the older Ranger, thinking he must have misheard.
Malcolm was the castle healer — the best in the region. Was Halt suggesting…

 

The boy quickly shook his head, as if the motion alone could wipe the pain off his face.

 

– You think I’m crazy – he said, not sure if it was a question or a statement.

 

Halt neither confirmed nor denied it. Will let out a bitter laugh, trying to hide the crack that had just opened inside him.

 

– So that’s all the help you’ve got for me?

 

– And what did you expect? – Halt snapped, tired of the conversation. – That I’d pat your head and tell you it’ll be fine? Pull yourself together, boy.

 

The young Ranger took a few steps, feeling that each one deepened the gap now yawning between them. With a quick motion, he grabbed his cloak from the hook.

 

– I won’t take up any more of your time – he muttered, not looking at his former mentor.

 

– Of course! – Halt scoffed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. – Run from your problems. Just don’t cry later when I can’t help you.

 

– You’re not helping me anymore.

 

Halt clenched his fists. He could have stood up. He could have spoken differently, calmer. But pride won. He only heard the soft click of the door closing behind his apprentice.

 

He rubbed his forehead with his hand and took a sip of coffee — now cold.
It tasted far more bitter than it had a moment ago.

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

September 30th, 1128 – afternoon.

 

The cold wind used every gap it could find, slipping under clothing and cutting through with its icy bite. Scarves torn from heads whirled across the square, and baskets ripped from hands rolled along the ground as passersby chased after them.

 

Crowley walked between the stalls. He usually did so without haste, but today was exceptionally windy, so he focused only on the essentials, wanting to return quickly to his warm cabin. The merchants were slowly packing up their goods after a long day’s work, and the shouting and chatter were gradually fading.

 

The Commandant carried a wicker basket filled with bread and some aromatic meat. He stopped by a stand with herbs and spices when fragments of a conversation drifted to his ears.

 

– That young Ranger… Have you seen him lately? – a woman in a purple dress asked her friend.

 

– You mean the one mentored by Halt? – the second one replied. – Yes, I’ve seen him.

 

– He looks like something’s gone wrong in his head recently.

 

The Ranger subtly tilted his head to listen better. His eyes remained fixed on the goods in front of him, his fingers wandering through the spices. He was a Ranger — he knew how to listen without being noticed.

 

The second woman continued, oblivious to those around her.

 

– When I asked him for help, he answered strangely. Like he wasn’t even there.

 

– His eyes wander around as if he’s looking for someone. Odd boy, I didn’t feel right around him – the woman smoothed her purple dress, as if her hands needed something to do. – See? – she laughed to her friend. – Even talking about him makes me uneasy.

 

– Well… maybe–

 

A stronger gust of wind carried the woman’s words away, as if they carried something he wasn’t meant to hear.
Even though he didn’t catch the sound, he could guess what had been said. According to these women, Will was ill. And that guess only sharpened the unpleasant knot forming in his stomach — the same feeling you get when you have no solid proof yet, but your body already knows.

 

He clenched his teeth. Yes, he was slightly irritated with the boy — with his behavior — but he was his boy. And Crowley wasn’t about to let gossiping market women invent their ridiculous theories.
He knew well that the market was where the most exaggerated stories were born, spreading from mouth to mouth. Normally he wouldn’t care. But this was Will. And if these rumors spread, it could damage his career as a Ranger.

 

He was pulled from his thoughts by the soft, slightly impatient voice of the vendor:

 

– Something for you, sir? I’m closing soon.

 

The Commandant handed him a bundle of dried herbs he had been holding for some time. After a moment’s thought, he added a bunch of fresh parsley.

 

The vendor packed everything together, then looked up with a slight grimace. It was obvious he wanted to ask something, but hesitated — unsure whether he had the right.

 

– Ranger, may I ask something?

 

Crowley muttered in response — permission given. He never understood why people were so afraid to speak to him.
He was a Ranger. A Commandant, sure. But a Commandant didn’t kill people just for starting a conversation.

 

– Maybe it’s because of Halt? – he had thought many times. – People see me with him and assume I’m just as grumpy… and then they’re scared.

 

– It’s about one of your men. The young one – the vendor blurted in one breath, as if afraid he’d lose his nerve halfway through.

 

The Ranger, halfway through placing the herbs in his basket, froze. For a moment he looked as if his mind needed time to process what his ears had heard.
Another one asking about Will?

 

After a moment he finished packing and lifted his gaze to the man across the counter.

 

The vendor scratched the back of his neck nervously, feeling the Commandant’s intense stare. It wasn’t angry, nor threatening.
But it was piercing — as if the Ranger wanted to read every hidden thought behind the question.

 

With his other hand he handed over the change; the coins trembled slightly in his palm.

 

– People… they’ve felt uneasy around him lately.

 

– What do you mean? – the Ranger asked, slipping the coins into the pouch at his belt.

 

– Well… he’s here, but also not. You can’t really talk to him normally.

 

Crowley narrowed his eyes. The man spoke like a typical villager repeating something he’d heard. Fear and panic. And this was yet another rumor. About Will.
He wanted nothing more than to shake every person who spread such nonsense. But he knew he had to handle this differently.

 

– Our companion is having a rough time lately. But I assure you, everything is fine.

 

– Well, but he…

 

– There’s nothing to worry about – the Commandant cut in firmly. Then, more softly – But I’ll keep an eye on him. Don’t worry.

 

The vendor nodded, still not fully convinced. But if the Commandant of the Rangers said so…

 

Crowley said goodbye and headed off. His steps were quick and rigid, and thoughts churned in his mind. Like leaves torn by the wind, they swirled chaotically around one thing.

 

– Damn it, boy – he muttered. – What am I supposed to do with you now.

 

As he walked away, he still caught a few more voices — as if fate insisted on adding more reasons for concern.
All circling the same topic.

 

– He listens… sneaks around…

 

– He answers late and completely off-topic.

 

– You can’t rely on him.

 

– Rangers are supposed to protect us. And he looks like he needs the help.

 

– I’m scared of him.

 

Crowley pulled his hood lower and quickened his pace.
He had to find Halt.
And fast.

***

It was already dark when Halt heard a knock at the door. He set down the knife he had been sharpening, but before he could take a step, the door opened and his friend appeared in the doorway.

 

– Did I walk in on coffee hour? – Crowley asked the moment he caught the scent of freshly brewed coffee.

 

Instinctively, Halt glanced at the table where his mug of hot drink stood. He only cleared his throat and walked toward the kitchen. He didn’t have to ask — he knew Crowley wanted coffee. Crowley always wanted coffee.

 

– What brings you here? – he asked, grimacing slightly when the cupboard door let out a long, pained creak.

 

– I was at the market. – Halt shot him a narrowed look from beneath furrowed brows, so he quickly added, – What? Even a Commandant goes shopping.

 

– If only you knew how to cook – Halt muttered, earning a theatrical look of offense from Crowley.

 

– Hey. Anyone can make a meat sandwich.

 

The smile vanished from his face as quickly as a candle being snuffed out — too quickly not to notice. He nodded in thanks for the coffee, took a sip, and said:

 

– But I didn’t come here to chat about culinary skills. – He waited until Halt added wood to the fire and sat down at the table. – Have you spoken to Will lately?

 

Halt frowned.

 

– This morning.

 

Crowley tilted his head. He recognized that tone — sharper than usual, like someone had pressed on a fresh bruise.

 

– You two argued – he stated, not asked.

 

The room filled with silence — the kind that spoke louder than words.

 

The Commandant scratched his beard. If Halt was in this mood, the conversation would be even harder. But it couldn’t wait.
He began softly, carefully — not wanting to make things worse.

 

– Halt… people are talking.

 

Halt froze. He sat hunched over his mug of coffee, seemingly indifferent to the words just spoken.
But in his eyes something flickered — something that looked a lot like fear. Brief, but Crowley caught it.

 

– You know what that means – he said quietly.

 

– I know – Halt almost growled. But it wasn’t anger at Crowley.

 

– What’s going on with him?

 

– No idea – Halt’s voice tightened, as if resisting the conversation itself.

 

The atmosphere cooled noticeably. Even the coffee seemed to lose its warmth.
Crowley knew he was walking on thin ice, but the words had to be said.

 

– We need to act before this spreads even more. You have to talk to him.

 

– And you think I haven’t tried?! – the older Ranger burst out at last, releasing what had been burning in him since morning. – I don’t know how. He won’t tell me anything.

 

– He won’t talk, or you won’t listen?

 

Halt turned his head slowly, exhaustion glinting in his eyes.

 

– Crowley…

 

– I know you, Halt – his friend leaned back and gave him a crooked smile. – When something appears that you don’t understand, you shut down.

 

– So you think I should believe in ghosts and waking nightmares?

 

Crowley looked at him without judgment — more with something like understanding.

 

– That’s not what I’m saying. But maybe you need a different approach.

 

Halt shot him a sideways glance. He had never been good at this sort of thing.
Crowley continued without waiting:

 

– Show him you’re worried about him. Not about opinions.

 

The fire in the hearth flared, as if agreeing with the Ranger’s words. The windowpanes trembled from the strong wind — just as Halt trembled inwardly, though he would never admit it.

 

– Because that’s how it is, right?

 

– Of course it is – Halt replied instantly.

 

Crowley nodded and finished the last sip of his coffee.

 

– The ball is in two days – he said, fastening his cloak. – Take him aside and talk to him again. And Halt?

 

– Hm?

 

– Talk. Don’t yell. Don’t force your version onto him.

 

Halt turned in his chair and looked him straight in the eyes.

 

– Do I ever do that?

 

Crowley smiled despite everything.

 

– And is a Ranger without his bow still a Ranger?

 

With those words and a wide grin, he left — leaving Halt, who pursed his lips in annoyance, alone.

 

When the steps on the porch faded, Halt picked up the two now-empty mugs and set them on the counter.
He leaned his hands against the wooden surface and closed his eyes for a moment.
Only one thought crossed his mind:

 

– Stupid boy. You know I only ever worry about you.

***

September 30th, 1128 – late evening.

 

Gilan had just finished writing the report from his last patrol. The flame of the nearly burnt-out candle flickered violently, and wax dripped down the holder, leaving thin white streaks behind.
The Ranger stood up from the table and massaged his stiff neck.

 

– Cursed reports – he muttered under his breath, heading toward the kitchen.

 

It was already late, but he decided to make himself some tea. It was never too late for something warm.
He poured a mixture of herbs into his favorite mug and added boiling water. The cabin immediately filled with the scent of mint and chamomile. He sank comfortably into the armchair, stretched his legs out and closed his eyes, content.
His thoughts drifted freely, not settling on anything in particular. He was simply resting. Outside, the rain tapped soothingly against the roof in a steady, calming rhythm.

 

Suddenly he heard knocking at the door. He frowned, displeased.

 

– Who at this hour?

 

Since it was late, he picked up his Ranger’s knife just in case. He approached the door quietly — he had always been taught to stay alert, even in his own home. He opened it and froze.

 

Will was standing on the porch. Raindrops streamed down his pale face, plastering his wet hair to his forehead. His hands were crossed tightly over his chest, as if he were trying to shield himself from the world. Hunched, uncertain, unsure whether he even had the right to be here. His whole body trembled — from cold or something else.

 

– Can I come in? – he asked softly, almost shyly.

 

Gilan looked at him for a moment. That uncertain tone in Will’s voice made something inside him twist. As if the boy was afraid Gilan might turn him away.

 

– Come in – he said at last, firmly.

 

Will stepped inside slowly, his head still bowed. Even once he was in the safety of the cabin, he didn’t raise it. His gaze stayed fixed on the floor, as though he were searching for courage there.

 

– What happened? – Gilan asked, closing the door behind them.

 

The sound of rain grew muffled, leaving behind only a distant echo. It was no longer soothing. It pressed on the air, almost demanding an answer.

 

The boy shrugged, still avoiding eye contact – Gil… I… can I stay?

 

The Ranger gave him a surprised look. Before replying, he grabbed a blanket from the couch and draped it over the younger one’s shoulders.

 

Only then did Will lift his eyes — and they instantly filled with tears.

 

A few seconds stretched painfully long. The cabin no longer smelled of tea, but of something heavy — something Gilan couldn’t name.
Even the flame of the dying candle seemed to burn more quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the moment.
Will, trembling, eyes full of fear, stood there like a small child that had lost its way.
Gilan looked at him, trying to pull the truth from his mind by sheer force of will. He saw the boy’s fingers knotting together. The faint tremble of his chin. Barely noticeable — but Gilan knew him too well to miss it.

 

The older Ranger let out a sad sigh. He didn’t ask for more. He simply stepped forward and pulled him into a firm embrace, so suddenly Will let out a startled breath.

 

– Of course you can – he whispered into his hair.

 

Will closed his eyes and returned the hug. His hands clung to the fabric of his friend’s cloak as if it were the only safe place left.

 

– I’m scared – he whispered into his shoulder. – But no one… no one believes me.

 

– Easy… it’s all right – Gilan soothed him, rubbing his back gently. – You’re not alone.

 

Will rested his head, allowing himself — even for a moment — to stop pretending he was strong. He hadn’t come for advice. He’d come for a safe place.
And he had found one.

 

After a moment he loosened his grip, calmer now, and Gilan leaned back slightly to look into his eyes.

 

– Tea?

 

The boy nodded and shuffled slowly toward the couch. He sank onto it heavily, like someone who could no longer carry the weight on his shoulders. He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, as if the fabric alone could offer warmth and safety. He looked around the familiar living room.

 

Everything was just as always — peaceful. Will had always liked being here. Gilan, unlike Halt, wasn’t as strict. He spoke his mind more freely and had more empathy than sharp-edged logic. And Will had no strength left for another lecture.

 

Gilan glanced at him while preparing the tea. On his way back, he grabbed his own mug from the table and took a sip. It had already gone cold. But that didn’t matter.
Standing in front of him, he watched Will nervously turn the cup in his hands. He looked calmer, yet his mind was clearly still crowded.

 

– Will – he began quietly, almost in a whisper. – What happened?

 

The boy opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He closed it. Opened it again. And tried once more:

 

– I… Something at home… I didn’t want to be alone tonight.

 

Gilan nodded. He didn’t push. Not now, when the boy looked so frightened, like a startled animal.
He sat beside him — far enough to give him space, close enough to let him feel he wasn't alone.

 

– You won’t be – he said softly, but firmly.

 

Will didn’t answer, but Gilan saw the faintest lift at the corner of his lips.

Notes:

If anyone was waiting for this chapter, I’m sorry it took me so long to finish it :-)

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

October 1st, 1128 – morning.

 

Morning slipped into the cabin quickly, as if eager to chase away the worries of the night. Cold and gray, yet sunlight broke through the clouds, offering a hint of something better.
With that same hint of hope, the Ranger woke.
Gilan stretched and pushed aside the soft blanket. Still a little sleepy after a difficult night, he pulled on his everyday clothes. The door creaked as he stepped out of the bedroom.

 

His eyes immediately drifted to Will, still asleep on the couch. The boy had fallen asleep there the previous night with a half-finished cup of tea in his hand. The older Ranger had carefully taken it away so he wouldn’t spill it, settled him into a more comfortable position, and covered him with a blanket before heading to bed himself.

 

Looking at him now, he smiled faintly — Will finally seemed to be sleeping peacefully. The quiet snoring confirmed it.
Gilan tiptoed toward the kitchen, moving as silently as if he were sneaking through a forest. He planned to make breakfast. He pulled out half a loaf of bread he’d bought at the market yesterday. Added some vegetables, cheese, meat. Will needed a proper meal — he hadn’t looked well lately.

 

– At least this I can do – crossed Gilan’s mind.

 

He set two mugs of coffee on the table. It couldn’t be missing — Rangers couldn’t imagine a decent breakfast without it.

 

He glanced at his sleeping friend. Will murmured something in his sleep but didn’t stir, not even when Gilan bumped a plate a couple of times. The older Ranger sighed — Will was truly exhausted.

 

He stepped closer and forced a cheerful expression.

 

– Hey… little one.

 

Will shifted slightly, opening one eye. The morning light barged in like an unwelcome guest, making the boy scrunch his face adorably. Gilan couldn’t help but snort softly. It reminded him too much of the young apprentice he used to drag out of a sleeping bag every morning. Will always joked that he preferred sleeping over at Gilan’s because, unlike Halt, he let him sleep in.

 

– Come on, the coffee’s getting cold.

 

– Coffee? – Will pushed himself up on his elbows, still half-asleep.

 

Gilan gestured at the table full of food.

 

– You made me breakfast?

 

The older Ranger shrugged.

 

– And what’s strange about that?

 

The chairs scraped as they sat down. Will practically devoured everything with his eyes before touching it. Gilan asked casually, though not without intention:

 

– When was the last time you ate something proper?

 

– I didn’t have the head for cooking – Will answered calmly, spreading butter on his bread.

 

– Mhm – Gilan murmured in a tone that pretended to be neutral. He pushed the plate of cheese closer to him. – All of this needs to disappear.

 

Will glanced at him and managed a small smile.

 

They ate in silence — peaceful, pleasant. Yesterday’s rain seemed to have washed away all the fear and trouble.

 

While turning his coffee mug in his hands, Gilan asked with quiet concern:

 

– Did you sleep well?

 

Will nodded vigorously.

 

– Good – the blond Ranger muttered. But there was something else he had to ask. – Will. Do you want to tell me what happened last night?

 

Will tensed immediately. Slowly, he set down the slice of cheese he had been tearing apart.

 

– I… – he began, his voice trembling slightly – I was making tea. I heard… I heard the voice again.
At first muffled, like someone standing outside the door. I got closer. I waited. I listened.

 

Gilan listened carefully, without interrupting. He knew that even a small interruption could shut down the already frightened boy.
Seeing that Gilan wasn’t dismissing his words, Will continued:

 

– Then it spoke again. Right behind me.

 

He gave a small, humorless snort.

 

– I spilled the tea – he pulled up his sleeve, showing a small burn. Fortunately, it wasn’t serious. Still, Gilan frowned, silently scolding the boy for not mentioning it yesterday. – When I turned around… no one was there. Then I ran outside – his hands shook – I couldn’t stay… I didn’t… I didn’t think about where I was going…

 

Gilan placed a calming hand on his shoulder.

 

– It’s good you came to me.

 

Will only nodded, unable to force a sound past the tightness in his throat.
He looked as though he wanted to say something more. He swallowed — loudly, painfully.

 

– Gilan?

 

– Yes?

 

– The voices…

 

– Will, I do believe you.

 

But the boy shook his head.

 

– That’s not it. It’s… it belongs to a woman.

 

Gilan raised his eyebrows, genuinely surprised.

 

– A woman?

 

– Mhm. She calls me by name. Her voice is… warm. Almost caring. But at the same time it makes my skin crawl.

 

– Do you have any idea who she could be?

 

Will lowered his gaze, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was about to say.

 

– No one from here.

 

Gilan felt something tighten in his stomach — that strange sensation that something is wrong, even if you don’t yet know what to call it.
Still, he kept his face calm so as not to frighten his friend.

 

– Maybe Halt would know someth—

 

– Halt wanted to send me to Malcolm – Will cut in quickly.

 

Gilan froze.

 

– Halt? He said that? Wonderful. Bravo, master Ranger.

 

Out loud he only said:

 

– You know how he is.

 

– I know – Will muttered. – But that doesn’t make it any less painful.

 

– Will…

 

He stopped halfway. He knew his words wouldn’t offer much comfort.
He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against the tabletop while trying to find a reasonable solution to any of this.
Finally his expression brightened, as if he’d remembered something.

 

– The ball is tomorrow – he said lightly.

 

– Mmm… And?

 

– Do you have something to wear?

 

– Gilan… – Will tilted his head, propping it on his hand. A ball was the least of his priorities right now.

 

– What? Surely you’re not planning to show up in that old worn-out cloak?

 

– I’m not planning to show up at all.

 

– Oh no. No, no, no. – Gilan shook his head like an offended child. – Do you really want to miss the chance to see Halt being forced to talk to people, Baron Arald betting Crowley who can drink more wine, Norris looking like he wants to disappear, and Horace cleaning out the entire buffet?

 

The corners of Will’s mouth twitched almost immediately.
Gilan had described exactly what happened at every party.

 

– You forgot to mention that King Duncan watches us like he regrets all his royal decisions.

 

Gilan pointed at him.

 

– Exactly.

 

Will snorted quietly. The sound warmed Gilan’s heart. It had once been an everyday thing. Now — a rare one.

 

– Really, Will. I think it’ll do you good.

 

Will folded his hands in front of him, as if considering a rather tempting offer.

 

– All right. I’ll come – he said at last.

***

2 October 1128 – evening

 

The royal hall was packed to the brim. People crowded the walkways, chatting about anything and everything that came to mind. At the long table, toast after toast was raised. Others danced across the floor, the patterned gowns of noblewomen swirling into colourful whirlpools.

 

One table had gathered nearly the whole group. Baron Arald was chatting cheerfully with Berringan. Horace was already eyeing a plate piled high with roasted chicken. Cassandra was joking with Gilan. Sir Rodney was pestering Halt about just how much he didn’t want to be here. And Leander, Norris, and Crowley were talking with Julian, eager to learn more about the young knight Rodney had praised so glowingly.
King Duncan, for once not acting as host, sat in the place of honour, listening to all the conversations at once, unable to decide which one to join.

 

Music blended with the hum of the hall. The thud of footsteps on the dance floor mixed with rhythmic clapping from those who lacked the courage to dance.

 

At one point Horace raised his hand high and waved. Cassandra turned and immediately smiled.

 

– Will. Come, sit with us.

 

The young Ranger pulled out a chair and sat down among his friends.

 

– I thought you weren’t coming – Norris muttered, feigning sternness.

 

– How could I deprive you all of my company?

 

Laughter rippled around the table.
As he sat, Will’s eyes briefly met Halt’s. One second was enough for the two looks — one guilty, one wounded — to crash into each other like fire and water.

 

Will looked away and busied himself with pouring wine into his goblet. Halt kept his face perfectly unreadable, but Crowley noticed the way his friend's fingers tightened around the fork.

 

The Commandant gave him a pointed look as if to say: Remember what you’re supposed to do.

 

Halt merely reached for a piece of bread. Crowley growled something under his breath about a stubborn old man, and Gilan discreetly kicked him under the table. Will couldn’t help smiling.
Those three — Halt, Crowley, and Gilan — were truly something special. Each of them saw when something was wrong. Each tried to fix it in their own way. And each firmly believed they were being subtle.

 

Will cleared his throat:

 

– Gilan. Why are you kicking our Commandant under the table?

 

Gilan straightened instantly, like the taut string of a lute. He looked at Will with feigned indignation and, though he tried to sound serious, amusement sparkled in his eyes.

 

– You little traitor…

 

Will smiled innocently. Crowley snorted:

 

– At least someone here respects me.

 

The whole group burst into laughter, and the tension shattered like broken glass. Even Halt allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch upward — which, for him, was the equivalent of a full laugh.

 

The atmosphere softened. It was as though someone had lifted the invisible weight they’d all been carrying for days. Will dared to look at Halt again. Their eyes met once more. But this time there was no pain in them. Only an unspoken I’m sorry and I’m glad you’re here.

 

Suddenly, a booming voice erupted behind Will:

 

– William Treaty! My favourite Ranger!

 

– Erak! – Will turned, a wide, genuine smile spreading across his face.

 

He stood up, and the burly Skandian nearly crushed him in a bear hug.

 

– You’ll break his ribs – Cassandra laughed.

 

– Perhaps, but only out of affection – the Oberjarl chuckled.

 

Next came Svengal’s turn. His hug was stiff, as always, but the joy was unmistakable.

 

The three of them returned to their seats, with Erak settling right beside Will. Baron Arald nodded politely:

 

– How was your meeting with the king?

 

The ruler of Skandia cast Duncan a pointed look.

 

– Honestly, I thought we’d never escape that office.

 

Duncan laughed heartily.

 

– Renewing a treaty takes time, my dear friend.

 

Sir Rodney set his goblet on the table:

 

– So the alliance stands, then? Or have you changed your minds and decided to attack us after all?

 

The whole group burst out laughing at the joke. Erak wagged a finger at Sir Rodney, but the smile never left his face.

 

Time passed as quickly as the wine disappeared from the pitchers. For a while, everyone forgot about the awkward moments from the past few days. They simply enjoyed each other’s company.

 

Only Julian kept glancing at Will from time to time, as if waiting for him to slip up.
But Halt’s former apprentice seemed to be in good spirits. Rested, chatting easily with everyone. As if there was no trace left of his recent strange behaviour. The knight narrowed his eyes, clearly displeased.

 

– Will?

 

The Ranger looked at him, a bit surprised Julian was speaking to him of his own accord.

 

– How are you feeling? – the knight asked, feigning concern.

 

The conversations at the table quieted for a moment. Erak looked around. Svengal stopped chewing mid–bite.

 

– Is there something we should know? – he asked, swallowing his food.

 

Julian rushed to answer, though no one had asked him:

 

– Our dear friend hasn’t exactly been… at his best lately.

 

Will smiled politely, though mischief flashed in his eyes. Gilan bowed his head so he wouldn’t snort aloud. He knew that look. Will was about to respond — and it would not be polite.

 

– I'm feeling fine today. Thanks for asking.

 

Julian forced a smile.

 

– That’s good. You know, people here were starting to worry.

 

Cassandra nudged him subtly with her elbow, but Julian didn’t notice.

 

– I thought maybe something was wrong with you.

 

Berringan sipped his wine, and Baron Arald leaned forward, afraid to miss even a single word.

 

Will relaxed in his chair as if he had complete control of the situation. When he spoke, his voice was soft, polite — almost out of place considering the words that followed:

 

– You know… thinking isn’t everyone’s strong suit.

 

Erak roared with laughter so loudly that Leander covered his ears. Horace nearly choked on a piece of meat. Cassandra turned her head away to hide her smile. King Duncan suddenly found the room very interesting — royalty shouldn’t laugh at such things. Crowley leaned back and looked at the ceiling, but his eyes were laughing. And Halt thought only one thing: That’s my boy.

 

Julian, however, turned redder than the wine in his goblet. His jaw tightened, and he stared at his plate with such intensity it looked like he intended to cut the steak with his glare alone.

 

Will, meanwhile, returned to his conversation with the Skandians as if nothing at all had happened.

***

The celebration was in full swing. Baron Arald, as host, moved between the tables, chatting with guests. Most people had already drifted away from their seats, eager to mingle with a larger crowd.

 

Will had just finished talking to a nobleman who was very curious about how Rangers managed to vanish into the shadows, when Halt approached him.
Will had heard him coming, but he didn’t turn. His fingers tightened around the goblet he was holding, as if gripping it would somehow keep him steady.

 

The older Ranger noticed.

 

– Are you nervous around me?

 

– No – Will denied quickly. Too quickly.

 

Something in Halt’s eyes softened.

 

– Will, look at me.

 

He did. Hesitantly — but he did.

 

Halt could have told him he was sorry. That he’d reacted too harshly. That he hadn’t given Will a chance to explain.
But he had never been good with words.

 

So all he did was extend a hand and wait.

 

Will looked at him, then at the hand reaching toward him. He took one step — as if walking on thin ice. The second — steadier. And then he leaned into Halt’s side, letting himself feel safe. His shoulders loosened, unaware he’d been holding them tense this whole time.

 

– I don’t want to fight with you – he whispered.

 

His mentor simply wrapped an arm around him and held him tighter. And it was the best answer he could have given.

 

Crowley, watching them from his seat, swirled his goblet and muttered with a fond smile:

 

– Hopeless… but adorable.

***

The guests had drifted into smaller groups.
Nobles debated their own affairs, knights boasted about who would bring down the biggest boar on the next hunt.
Erak was trying to convince Leander to join him on a trip to Skandia. Why? Only the two of them knew.
Svengal, meanwhile, circled the table, searching desperately for at least one fish he would like. Freshwater fish were, in his words, “all strange.”
Horace would never forget the sight of his master — Sir Rodney — running back and forth with a plate full of bream, perch, and roach, all to please their picky guest.

 

Will chatted with Cassandra for a moment, then stretched his back.

 

– I’m going out to the balcony for a minute – he announced.

 

Cassandra nodded.

 

– All right, but take a cloak or the wind will cut right through you.

 

Will only laughed, but wrapped himself tightly in his cloak anyway, sending her a look that said, “Satisfied?”
The princess glared at him playfully but said nothing. She turned and walked back to the other guests.

 

Halt, Crowley, and Gilan stood together near one of the pillars. The Commandant was in the middle of telling some old amusing mission story. Gilan was suppressing laughter — it wasn’t proper to openly mock a superior — and Halt was rolling his eyes.

 

– I’m telling you, the bandit had—

 

CRASH.

 

A SCREAM.

 

The balcony doors slammed open with violent force, smashing against the wall. The echo exploded across the entire hall, freezing everyone in place. Conversations died instantly, the music cut off. The party stalled completely, as if someone had cast a spell stopping time. Every head turned toward the same spot.

 

Will fell inside, hitting the floor hard on his back, as if some invisible force had shoved him with full strength.

 

At first, people panicked, thinking it was an attack. Someone shouted. Someone dropped a goblet. Crowley shot to his feet, convinced Will had been wounded.

 

Two long seconds passed. Nothing happened. Maybe the Ranger had tripped?

 

But Will — still sitting on the cold stone floor, frozen like a statue — stared at a single point in front of him. Eyes wide. Breath sharp. Muscles tensed as if he were preparing to run. His face twisted in pure terror.

 

One noble glanced at the balcony. It was empty.

 

– There’s no one there – he muttered, frowning.

 

People noticed it too. Whispers began. Movement. Murmurs.

 

– What’s happening?

 

– Is he all right?

 

– Is he ill?

 

Gilan didn’t wait. He rushed forward, pushing through the crowd without hesitation. He dropped to his knees beside Will and immediately pulled him into a tight embrace, shielding him from the world.

 

– Hey… shh… it’s all right, Will. I’m here, do you hear me?

 

But Will didn’t hear him. He wasn’t in this hall anymore. His whole body shook, and Gilan felt every tremor pass into him.

 

The guests didn’t know what to do. Fetch help? Wait? Some shifted anxiously; others looked away, uncomfortable. Still others felt almost ashamed to be witnessing something so raw.

 

Erak shot King Duncan a questioning look. Rodney and Arald exchanged uneasy glances. Cassandra pressed a hand to her mouth, frightened. Horace stood rigid, the twitch in his jaw the only sign of nerves.

 

The three senior Rangers didn’t know whether to approach or keep away.

 

Julian scanned the room, and on his lips appeared something resembling a triumphant smile. Hands on his hips, he watched with open interest. After all — this was exactly what he’d been waiting for.

 

Crowley turned his head cautiously toward Halt. The older Ranger stood stiff and unmoving, as if bolted to the floor. But his eyes held only one thing — fury.

 

The Commandant frowned, but said nothing. He approached Gilan, who still knelt beside Will.

 

– Come on, kid – he murmured quietly, placing his hands on Will’s shoulders. – Let’s get you out of here.

 

But Will didn’t move. Not an inch. His gaze was fixed forward, frozen.

 

Halt snapped. He strode over with a hard, rigid step.

 

– Get him out of here – he growled, turning toward the exit.

 

Crowley and Gilan exchanged a look. They didn’t need words to understand. Halt was going to talk to Will. And this time, it wasn’t going to be a calm conversation.