Halt could sense it the second the two of them walked in the door. He could tell that Gilan was having quite possibly the best day of his life. Y/N, though she wore a smile, was sinking with something.

"Well, you two have been gone a while." Halt eyed Gilan suspiciously. "Found a way out of your chores, did you?"

Gilan chuckled nervously. "Well—she needed her own cloak. I though the store house—"

"Yes, good thinking. Thank you." Halt acknowledged. But he couldn't let Gilan remain puffed with pride. "But now you can carry on with the rest of your chores."

"Right." Gilan sighed and immediately went to go chop some firewood, smiling sheepishly at Y/N on the way out.

Once the door shut, Y/N felt Halt's eyes right on her.

"Out with it, then." He urged. "What happened?"

Y/N knew there was no keeping secrets from Halt. She knew he knew. She also had to trust that he could help. Crowley wouldn't have sent her here if he couldn't.

The girl dragged the drawing out of her pocket and handed it over to him.

Halt unfolded the paper and furrowed his brows.

"It happens sometimes," Y/N began. "These drawings. I don't know what they mean. Sometimes, it's like a warning for something that will happen. But I've never even seen this place."

Halt hummed and kept his eyes glued on the paper. "It has happened before and...it came true?"

"Yeah, but small things." Y/N said frustratedly. "Like coming here. When I found Gilan in the woods yesterday, I had already seen it. In one of my drawings."

"This is Celtica." Halt said quietly. "So, what this means is that something—whatever this is—is going to happen there?"

"I guess." Y/N muttered, her head falling into her hands.

Halt observed the girl and her distress. "That's the horrible supposed curse of the Dearmad—the cost of being forgettable."

Cost of being forgettable. Those words were cold and sour to Y/N. Cost? As if being forgettable was some advantage she was supposed to be paying for.

"Again, myth, people have said the curse of the Dearmad is their ability to see ahead of time. But, because no one remembers them, they cannot warn anyone about what they've seen. They're let off as crazy strangers trying to disrupt everyday life. And then disaster strikes and the Dearmad have to sit and watch it all."

"No myth, then." Y/N whispered.

"No." Halt agreed. "But you have people now who do remember. Maybe, this can help us."

"I hope." She said.

"How about I keep this and any others you don't wish to carry." Halt offered. "At least until we get a lead on what they might mean."

Y/N sank in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose. Then, she dropped her arms and crossed them over herself, looking to Halt from under her brows.

"What happens when the day comes that people get hurt because I couldn't stop it?" She asked.

Halt kept his expression as flat and emotionless as possible. But Y/N knew by now, in the brief time she'd known him, that the glassy surface he presented with meant he was forcefully masking his true emotions. In his attempt to be unreadable, he was never more clear in expressing how he truly felt.

"Then that is a problem for another day." Halt pushed her words aside. "Not today."

Y/N found no reassurance in that answer. But, she understood his point. There was no reason to try and tell her that that reality wasn't a possibility in the same way that there was no reason to tell her that there was something she could do to prevent it. It was just something that would always be lurking over her shoulder and that was her burden to carry. Though the load could be lightened by Halt, there might come the day when she wouldn't be able to save people.

Halt buried the paper in his own pocket right as Gilan trampled inside the cottage with a stack of wood in his arms. The smile on his face and the way he carried himself almost made Halt feel bad for him. He was already in so painfully deep.

For now, Y/N felt a sense of relief. Not in the kind of way where it felt like a weight had been lifted off of her. Instead, it was more like a feeling of indifference had washed over her. There was nothing she could do about the drawings right now and that meant it shouldn't consume her conscience. Not now, when she had a friend and a mentor whose company she could choose to enjoy instead.

A chill that seeped through the walls of the cottage had settled in during the evening hours. Halt had since retired to his room and Y/N and Gilan had chosen to set up their bedding near the fire. They giggled quietly, knowing Halt couldn't quite hear them.

Gilan understood now how and why some people opted for what many considered a simple life. When the day was done, those people could return home to the people they cared about and simply forget the rest of the world existed. But for people like Rangers, the day never really did end. There was always something to be thinking about, worrying about, doing...Except for right now.

It was the nearest he had ever felt to complete peace until a faint sound caught his attention. Something he wasn't expecting.

He held a finger to his mouth and shushed Y/N. He then rolled over in hopes of locating the sound and sure enough, there was Halt. Standing in the shadows, he silently slung his bow off of the wall and strung it.

Cautiously, he eyed his mentor and Halt did the same to Gilan that Gilan had done to Y/N. He shushed him.

At least, Gilan was relieved to know, Halt wasn't stringing his bow and threatening them for being too loud and disturbing his sleep.

The two laying by the fire got up and joined Halt under the front window, peering outside. With the light of the moon reflecting off of the fallen snow, it seemed insane that anyone would try to be sneaking around in this much light.

"Farmers looking for supplies?" Gilan whispered. It would make sense. People in these parts might need help after such a sudden, massive snowfall.

"No." Halt shook his head. "Get your bow, Gilan."

A little shaken, Gilan did as told, leaving Y/N with Halt.

"Has Morgarath sent men after you since you left Crowley?" Halt asked right in the girls face. "Does he know you're here?"

Halt, ever so slightly, had the thoughts running through his mind about all of the people who wanted him dead. All of the people who might send someone to infiltrate his life just to get one small shot at him. Y/N was the perfect plan.

That note from Crowley could have easily been foraged by Morgarath. And while he'd considered it, the whole situation seemed far too genuine to be the works of Morgarath.

A young, broken, but innocent person. If Y/N had been sent to get inside and burn him in close quarters, whoever had sent her knew him well. They knew he'd never be able to turn away someone like her.

Either everything she was was a lie and sent here solely to destroy him, or she was telling the truth and she was in danger.

"I—well—I don't think so. Even if he did, they can't catch me because they forget me!" She whispered back forcefully.

"But has he ever sent one of his own Ranger types after you?" Halt asked. "Because maybe he's figured it out too—that rangers do remember the Dearmad."

Y/N cursed under her breath and thunked her head against the windowsill.

"I'm sorry, Halt." She stood up and pulled out the knife from the sheath on her waist. "I never should have come here."

Halt grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down to the floor. The sudden shock of it stunned her. "You're not going to run out there and get yourself killed, you hear me?"

There was no getting past Halt. He already knew her plan. He always did.

"So what then?" She hissed. "Try and fight them off?"

"Yes." Halt shut her down and left no other option.

As if on command, a holler left the woods around the cottage and with it men came running into the clearing between it and the home. Arrows rained down from the roof of the cottage—Y/N realized now Gilan had not come back, so it must have been him—and sent men to the ground in seconds.

One man remained and continued his rush to the cottage with unwavering determination. Halt swiftly moved for the door and the second the man rushing at it was about to plow into it with his shoulder, Halt heaved the door open and the man came crashing in.

Behind him, Gilan dropped from the roof and into the doorway with a grin.

"Well," Halt hauled the man up and pushed him down into a chair where Gilan tied his hands. "Who do we have here?"

The man in the chair spat at Halt's feet. "You killed them!"

"Hardly." Halt crossed his arms. "Their injuries will need tending, but they're not dead. You however, could be if you don't tell us what you're doing here."

The way Halt screwed those final words down into the man made Y/N almost stumble back.

Snarling, the man looked up to Y/N. "Saw some footprints leading here. They were small, so figured there'd be easy pickings."

"Oh, really?" Halt stifled a laugh. These were no men of Morgaraths. They were simply thieves looking for an easy target. Obviously not all that skilled in other areas of tracking because they failed to realize that there was more than one person at the cottage. "Easy pickings, huh?"

"Small prints usually mean weak," The man rumbled.

"Mmm." Halt nod. "Well, you won't be robbing anyone here tonight. Y/N, mind showing him the way out?" He asked as he nod towards her knife.

The girl hesitated slightly. Was he asking her to kill him? No. He wouldn't do that.

Instead of making herself appear weak and questioning Halt's orders, Y/N had to go with what her gut told her was right.

She stepped behind the man and slashed his bindings, allowing him to stand up. Before he could turn on her and lash out with his arms, he felt she sharp point of the knife in the low of his back.

"What the hell, where'd you come from?" He yelped, not realizing there had been someone behind him. He thought the boy had released him, but apparently, there was someone else there, too.

"Go ahead." Her voice wavered, but Halt nod to her. "One way out."

Maybe two, depending on how one interpreted what she said.

Gilan was puzzled. The man had seemed to have forgotten her in quite literally a split second. He glanced quickly at Halt but his mentor simply dart his eyes away. It was strange. Halt only did that when he was looking at Gilan for a reaction. But to what?

The man swallowed hard, feeling that point burrowing its way through his clothes and into his skin. He began to shuffle forwards slowly and once he made it to the door, his strides were faster and longer. He jumped down from the steps and turned back to see the three people who had caught him standing there with creepy smiles.

Now with the realization that three small, weak looking people had overpowered him, he began his run. Halt though, wasn't ready to let him off so easy.

As the man ran, Halt raised his bow and let an arrow fly right into the back of the mans arm as he fled. A sharp cry of agony left him and he wasted no time in rousing his comrades from the snow and retreating back into the woods.

"Hm," Halt sighed and closed the door. "Well done, you two. Have a good sleep."

With that, Halt left. He unstrung his bow and returned to his room.

"Is he always like this?" Y/N asked in disbelief.

Gilan shrugged. "You get used to it." He moved back towards his bed by the fire as if nothing had even happened.

Y/N, however, was stuck where she was, staring down at the point of her knife stained red. She was waking up to the reality of her situation. She could also tell in the way Gilan had been looking at her that he knew something was going on. Something he couldn't quite understand.

"Right." She whispered.