The Broken Arrow

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I escaped from Will's drunk clutches for the fifth and hopefully last time.

He was persistent drunk.

Gee-sus.

I ducked under a table when I saw his wandering eyes come close to where I'd been standing.

Benefits of being small, you can crawl under tables.

Which is exactly what I did.

I crawled, cape and all, away from Will. Some Heir I was.

When I banged my head against the leg of a table, I let out curses that could probably make a sailor's ears bleed.

Biting my lip against the throbbing in my head I slowly crawled over to the door near the last table.

I snuck out of the door, but not before grabbing a slice of cake from the table.

I bit happily into the cake as I walked.

But once the cake was over and I was done licking my fingers, I realized I had no idea where I was.

I spun around slowly on my heel but all I could see was maroon velvet walls, the corridor I was in and a possible case of good old oh-shit-I'm-lost.

I shrugged, figuring that all roads lead to Rome, so continued on my pathless journey.

When I found a door, I peeked a head in, hoping it wasn't a bedroom and no one was inside doing...whatever it is Vamps do in their bedrooms.

It wasn't a bedroom.

I straightened, surprised.

It was an Archery Room. I let out a squeal and skipped over to the place where the bows were neatly placed on a stand.

I ran my hands across the different types of bows. They were all intricately carved and crafted from varied woods and were of different colours.

One specific black one with violet engraving caught my eye and when I touched it a shiver ran through me as the power of its user rushed over my skin.

I pulled it out and held it and noticed that it had perfect balance and I knew that who ever had made this had gone through a lot of trouble to make it this perfect.

I ran my fingers over the violet runes and they glowed where ever I touched them.

I knew that this bow was for someone way taller than me, but I didn't care. I'd fallen in love with it.

There was always residue of magic on anything a person of magic used. I could feel this Vamps power. It was all over the bow, almost part of it.

It was quiet, intense but strong...probably similar to Vamp whose bow this was.

The owner of this bow had to have named it. They wouldn't have toiled so hard without feeling the need to name it.

And like I'd guessed, I could see a single word etched in the middle, in a language I could not comprehend. But the script looked beautiful and unique and I itched to know its meaning.

"Beautiful," I murmured. Then I looked past the bow stand to a quiver of arrows. Striding towards it confidently, I pulled out a few and ran my fingers over them.

They were all thick meant to cause most harm; whereas us Witches possessed longer ones, meant to travel larger distances.

I came and stood at the spot marked about ten to fifteen feet away from the target. I closed my eyes and breathed in deep, allowing thoughts to filter away.

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