Ranger's Apprentice; The Final Pieces

Round 2

Gilan stood once again on top of the chair, with Halt and Will on his right hand side beneath him, and he looked out over the people who'd come to the second round of the writing competition. Most people were the same as those who'd visited for the first round, though there were some new faces along the crowd as well. The Ranger Commander looked one last time at his papers, then yelled: "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS, WELCOME TO THE SECOND ROUND OF THE WRITING COMPETITION!"

Halt pulled a tormented face, and even Will had to admit that Gilan's voice had been too loud this time – some people in the crowd had taken a few steps back, especially the new ones, but some old ones as well. He elbowed his friend and Commander at the side of his knee, and Gilan looked upon him, wondering why Will had hit him.

"Maybe," the younger Ranger whispered, "you must speak with just a little bit less volume – or the whole country will hear you." He gestured at the crowd and Gilan saw that some people had switched places more to the back. He nodded his thanks to Will and resumed his welcoming piece of text – this time, a little bit less loudly.

"So, like I said: welcome! Welcome to our three competitors; welcome to everyone who travelled to this place to read and vote; and welcome once again to Ranger Halt and Ranger Will, who'll once again be judging with me."

Both called Rangers smiled to the crowd, though Will with more enthusiasm and with a little bit more truth in it than his former master. Despite the things Gilan had said, Halt's face was still mostly hidden in the shadows of his cowl, and for as far people could actually see the part of his face with the wild beard, they'd probably need something close to a microscope to find that hidden smile. But Gilan ignored his former master – what else is new? – and kept talking.

"The voting will be exactly the same as last time! I know you all remember these easy rules of the voting, but for the ones who don't-"

"There are always at least a few people who did not memorize simple rules," Halt muttered, and Will had to hide a grin, knowing that it was all the truth. And Gilan knew it, too, because he resumed: "-I will tell you them again! In a minute, you'll read three one-shots-"

"Makes sense, considering the fact that there are three competitors," Halt again muttered, and this time it was harder for Will not to laugh out loud. And it seemed like Gilan had heard Halt too, this time, because it looked like he was trying to hide a smile. But he was well-trained, and resumed, without looking distracted.

"-with each a randomly assigned number and the name of the author – credits to those who deserve them of course. Then everyone can assign numbers ONCE. For every one-shot you can give a min of 3 points, and a max of 7 points. And remember that if you vote, you have to assign points to every one-shot, otherwise it doesn't count. You can vote until the competition closes; so you don't have to vote right now. You can assign votes in the comments, or send them privately. Please be fair and don't vote for your friends. Give every one-shot the votes it deserves. Also, if you vote, please vote in every round – that would be great. Is that all clear?"

Most heads nodded a yes, and several people even shouted their positive answer. Gilan let a big smile play across his face and spread his arms, being careful not to drop his papers.
"Well, then, on to the moment you've all been waiting for... THE ONE-SHOTS!" Gilan yelled, and this time, even he himself seemed to realize that his voice was quite loud like this. He got out the paper on which the first story was written – Will was probably more nervous than any of the competitors themselves. Would there be more of his typical, tragic life? Or would there be some nice stuff in his lives? And how about his friends? What secrets had been found by those competitors?