The Archer

Chapter 3: Hunting

"Hold it tight on 'ye grip, milady" he said. Shifting her fingers tightly around the shaft of the axe made out from a widu tree which was acceptably light and strong. Lifting the hard wood, it was heavy on her limbs still,thus, making her balance wobble." Steady 'ye stance, lady. Make 'ye feet apart".

Shaking furiously, she tried to balance herself. Her limbs were aching on the weight, she'd been doing this for hours around the week but changes were barely recognisable. Cursing her weak stature, she never gave up but pushed harder.

A trickle of perspiration rolled down her temples as she breathe in as many air as her lungs could muster and raised her limbs with the weapon above her head. But as she arc the weapon lower at her back, the same mistake have happened again. She couldn't just handle the weight of the head of the weapon. Her shoulders started to ache as she tried to balance herself. Immediately, Arthax snatched the weapon on her back and steadied her.

"Why do this thing works so hard when it works so light on you?" She stomped but he just laughed at her that makes her look more irritated.

"No worries, lady. Yer just too young to handle weapons. It takes years to be one o' Axiné's clan. Patience and grow stronger. Yer only eleven, turning twelve I s'pose" he chuckled.

Frustration never'd been a friendly part of her. How'd she wished she would've been born a male.

"Ye ain't ready yet. Stay wit' yer dagger for now. We'll wait until yer fourteen."

She sighed. Maybe she have no choice but to wait. Arthax felt relief when she turned towards their cabin. He knows how eager she was to learn how to fight but she's too young for it. 'Few more years' he thought. He knows there is something strong in her. Maybe her limbs are weak, he knows that but there's something irking at the back of his mind about her. 'Her green eyes' he smiled at the thought.

****

Her breathing was harder, feet aching as she moved faster. Its coming. She needs to go faster, the whiteness of the ground makes it more difficult. She felt numb. The cold eating away on her every vein.

Run.

Her lungs is breathing hard, her heart pounding against her chest. Faster. She run towards the snowy slope of the mountain, moving her naked feet against each other. She heard a laugh.

Don't stop. Push harder. She looked on her back behind her right shoulder. A dark figure is after her. She tripped. No. She struggled on her feet. Fear was crawling all over her soul. Move.