Ranger's Apprentice: Tales Untold

Side By Side

The sun was bright. The breeze blew through their hair, and a butterfly fluttered around the air, the deep blue of the wings calming and peaceful.

The white rose dropped from numb hands, and Will could stand it no longer. He walked away, his feet stumbling over each other. All he wanted to do was run, but he wasn't even sure he had the strength to do that.

The murmurs of the others faded away. He stared off in the distance, his lips quivering. Everything inside of him hurt, hurt worse than hell itself. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. The tears wouldn't come, and neither would the words.

Footsteps shuffled through the grass, and he didn't turn back to see who it was. A hand laid on his shoulder, and Horace whispered, "I'm sorry."

Will just nodded. And then more footsteps emerged, and Jenny and George were there, too, standing beside him, just as they'd always done. He tried to smile at them, but his lips were frozen in that terrible grimace.

They understood. Alyss had been their sister. And now she was gone, and five had turned into four. And so the four remaining friends stood there side by side, silent and solemn, waiting for the storm to pass.

###

Drip. Drip. Drip. Horace had always hated the rain, they knew. How ironic was it that it was raining on a day like this. The mud splashed, and their clothes were soaked. But still they stood there, away from the others, the hurt too painful for them to say anything.

Will, Jenny, and George. Out of the five Wards that had left that day, only three of them remained. Alyss had died, and now Horace was gone, too. As each of them thought of the tall warrior, a little more of their resolve crumbled into pieces.

Horace was gone.

It was all they could to to remain on their feet. The three former Wardmates simply stood side by side, offering each other whatever strength they had left. There was no need for words.
Drip. Drip. Drip.

###

After two of them, he'd almost expected—and hoped—to grow numb. But the pain was just as fresh, just as agonizing. The thorn of the rose bit into his thumb, and he squeezed his eyes shut. At least this time, he could cry now.

George was standing beside him. The man's face was a mask of stone, those eyes glimmering bright in a futile attempt to collect himself.

Without thinking, Will reached for his hand, clasping it tight. George looked over at him and squeezed it, and then the tears began to fall. The two men stood side by side, each of them desperately wishing for some sign of release.

###

There was no one to stand beside him that day. Not Alyss, not Horace, not Jenny, and not Will. The snow floated down to the ground, already piling up in a thin blanket stretched across the land.

He didn't have anyone to keep him standing. And so he relied upon his own strength, hoping, wishing that somehow, they were beside him, waiting for him to come. That they were with him, like they'd always been. Just like they'd always been.

And so he stood there, this time alone.