"Stop staring at Blaze, Gilan." Halt walked out of his cabin and onto the veranda. "I think she has gotten enough attention from you by now."

Gilan looked up at Halt, "I wasn't staring. I was merely watching her."

Halt raised an eyebrow and slowly shook his head. "Come on," he said. "We're going out into the forest."

"To do what?"

Halt looked back at him after he took a few steps. "It's time I taught you something new."

Gilan stood up and followed Halt out into the forest. "What will you be teaching me?"

Halt ignored Gilan and kept on walking.

"Is it something important? Will it be easy? Should I be worried? Can you please ans-"

"STOP!" Halt roared turning to face Gilan, "Just stop."

"What am I learning?" Gilan repeated his first question before shutting his mouth.

Halt rolled his eyes. "Apprentices," he groaned as he led Gilan a little deeper into the forest. Halt stopped at a river and looked back at Gilan.

Gilan walked up to Halt, and waited for him to say something. He realised that he couldn't stare at Halt because it looked like he was shimmering back and forth between existence and nonexistence. "Can I ask a question?" He blurted.

Halt frowned. "You just did, but I suppose you may ask another."

Gilan shrugged. He guessed that he did ask a question unintentionally. "How are you doing that?" He asked.

"Doing what?" Halt asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Disappearing and reappearing," Gilan said.

"Ah," Halt began, "I am not disappearing."

"Huh?"

Halt sighed. "I told you this, when I gave you your cloak. The mottled colors are there to help you blend in with your surroundings."

"Oh, I suppose you did," Gilan muttered. "So, what am I learning?"

"One of the most important things a ranger does," Halt answered.

Gilan gulped, "And that is?"

"Unseen movement."

For the rest of the morning, Halt showed Gilan how to go from place to place using the shadows and wind, so he wouldn't be seen.

Gilan easily got the basics down, but Halt wouldn't teach him anymore than he had. He said that Gilan's skill was "mere luck," much to Gilan's arguement.

>>>------------->

After lunch, Gilan was given some maps to study and worksheets about the maps to do. Usually, he would have been intrigued to learn about the geography of the word, but today his thoughts were full of frustration. He knew that it hadn't been beginner's luck.

A burst of energy ran through him as an idea popped into his head. A mischievous sparkle filled his eyes. He would prove to Halt, that it wasn't luck. Gilan looked around the room, wondering where Halt was.

"What are you doing?"

Gilan snapped his head to the door. "Nothing!" He explained. "Absolutely nothing!"

Halt narrowed his eyes. "You should be working."

"Right!" Gilan leaned back over the map.

Halt raised an eyebrow as he took a seat next to Gilan. "You have done almost nothing," he said looking at a worksheet.

"Sorry, Halt."

Halt sighed. "Go get some practice. You've done enough with these already.

Gilan's eyes lit up and he ran out, grabbing his water skin on the way.

"Why do you need that?" Halt called. Gilan gave no response.

Halt sighed and picked up the only worksheet Gilan had completed and started to look over it.

Gilan filled the water skin with water and attached it to his waist. That's when he realized that the water would be no use if it wasn't the perfect time for the plan.

Gilan shrugged, thinking that it would be no matter, and started stringing his bow to start practice.

>>>------------->

The afternoon sun blazed brightly as another lesson with Sir Rodney had passed, and Gilan was exhausted. He was slouched down on Blaze, and following Halt back to the cabin.

"What's wrong Halt?" Gilan asked as they reached the cabin. He had noticed that Halt, who had sat under a tree nearby during his lesson, was flipping frantically through reports while he was practicing.

"That's none of your concern," Halt muttered, taking a seat on the chair on the veranda.

"Please?" Gilan yawned.

Halt raised an eyebrow and looked at his apprentice, "Get some throwing practice in."

Gilan groaned and walked over to the targets and started to practice throwing with both his saxe and throwing knife. Beads of sweat slid down his face at the amount of effort he put in.

Just before he threw his throwing knife at a target on one of his throws, Halt jumped up and ran to saddle Abelard.

"What are you doing?" Gilan called to Halt as he sheathed his knife.

"I need to speak to Baron Arald," Halt said as he mounted, "stay here and work on your shooting."

Gilan opened his mouth to protest, but Halt was already speeding off. He sighed and went to get his bow, but suddenly it hit him. This was the perfect time for his plan.

A/N:

What do you think?

I'm changing the schedule for this story to be published on Saturdays instead of Sundays.