Mia's POV
--------------------
Instincts- Ones I trained for and some I didn't know I'd uncovered yet- take over as the arrow zips towards me. I dive to the ground, somersaulting as the arrow whizzes right above me. I finish my roll and bounce effortlessly to my feet, my adrenaline fading. Eyes wide, I look at El. She's smiling. Smiling!
"What the hell!" I screech, turning my head to see the arrow lodged dead center in one of the targets at the end of the shooting range.
"Just an intro to weapons training. Today we'll be working with archery. First how to wield bows and arrows, then how to defend yourself against them."
"You almost killed me!"
"Oh, I knew you would get out of the way. It's in your blood, remember? You have a leg up on other newbies. Your dad was incredible at fighting."
"Weapon fighting too?" I'm still little breathless from my near miss.
"Of course," Elanil replies, like it's most obvious thing in the world.
"What if it had hit me?"
"First of all, it wouldn't have. Second of all, we have magic healing stuff, remember?"
I roll my eyes. "Yea, I remember. But you can't exactly save me from the brink of death with some stitches."
El make a 'eh' face. "True, we can't save anyone from death, but bad injuries? Yes. Smaller injuries we let heal naturally, though."
"Wh- Okay, why can't you heal small cuts? And- Wait. Are there often... Near death experiences in training?" I feel a little fear creep into my system. Elanil must see it, because she shakes her head quickly.
"No, not usually. It's only happened a few times, when kids were being stupid or messed up really bad. And, to answer your other question, the Queen doesn't use that kind of healing often because she wants us to be able to deal with pain. If we can't handle a little pain in training, we're never going to survive in war."
I look back to the arrow lodged in the target, perfectly in the middle, then back at El.
"Are you always at war or something?"
"No, but we have to always be ready for one."
-
After warming up like always, Elanil has me choose a bow to work with. There are so many types, it takes me a minute to choose one that feels right. I eventually choose a dark oak bow with a simple curve. The bow itself is carved in fine detail- swirly patterns decorate the grip, with carvings of what look like branches scale up the rest of the wood in a beautiful network. Tiny little emeralds are embedded here and there, so they don't stick out but are noticeable and gorgeous. The string is thick, and when I pull it back it takes considerable effort. These are classic bows- no double strings, no fancy wheels or gadgets like the ones on Earth.
"This is hard to pull," I say through gritted teeth as I pull the string back how Elanil taught me to, my fingers hurting already and my arm starting to shake in exertion.
"Meaning they're powerful. It's okay, you'll get the hang of it. And don't worry about your fingers. It hurts at first, but you build up an immunity to it. And they'll never get all gross and calloused, don't worry."
I drop the string with a sigh, whistling at how tired my arm already is. Elanil smiles, walking over to the 100 yard long firing range. I follow her.
"Here." She hands me a sheath of obsidian tipped arrows with white feathers on the end. I loop it around my back the way Elanil showed me.
The next few minutes are spent teaching me how to nock the arrow and keep it on the bow, as well as how to pull one from the sheath behind me as fast as possible. We talk about aim a little, but apparently that comes more naturally with time and practice. I have a feeling this won't be as easy as fighting was.
"Ok, try it," Elanil commands once I think I've gotten the hang of how to use the bow. I nod, stepping in one of the lanes and focusing on the target ahead of me. I raise the bow and pull an arrow out from behind me, surprised at how fluid the motion is. The arrow starts to sway off of the string, and I pull it back with a grunt of annoyance. Elanil told me to aim up a little from where I want the arrow to go, because it arcs as it travels. I try to aim a little higher than the red dot in the middle of the target, and pull the string back even farther. Before my arms can start shaking again, I let go. The arrows sails through the air fast and hard, but it falls to the ground before it even reaches the target.
"Well shit," I say flatly, trying not to get too angry. It's my first time after all.
"That wasn't bad for your first try," El comments, getting into her trainer mentality. "Again."
-
The next hour is spent shooting arrows at targets. We do it until my fingers are numb and my arms shake even when I'm not pulling the string back. Eventually I get it to reach the target, but they usually stick right at the bottom, not anywhere near the tiny red dot in the middle. But, again, my stronger suit is fighting. Not shooting arrows.
"Ok, we have an hour left. Let's talk about defending against arrows."
I nod, dropping my arms in exhaustion. This is tiring. But it is kind of fun. Elanil walks with me over to the fighting mats. I stand on the mats and El stands in front of me so when she shoots her arrows will stick to the wall behind me instead of flying across the whole arena.
"Like I said, your fathers strong suit was combat," Elanil continues, swiping her long hair out of her face. "So this should come naturally eventually. We'll see."
Luckily, instead of just shooting at me, she teaches me some blocks and ways I can use my bow to protect myself, demonstrating by having me shoot at her. My shots are a lot more accurate when I'm up close. After showing me a few times and having me do the motions without arrows, she has me stand back on the mat. Not gonna lie, when she nocks an arrow and points the bow at me, my stomach lurches. Magic healing elves or not, if she hits me it's going to hurt. Really, really hurt. I shake my head, trying to get the thought out and focus. I shut out the voices of other elves around the arena, feeling the shaking in my arms, the slight give of the mats under my feet, the leather strap of my arrow sheath, the wood grip of my bow in my hand, the heat of the training center around me.
"Ready," I say, hoping it's true. Elanil nods, waiting a second before letting the first arrow fly. Apparently elves' bows are really strong, because I use one of Elanil's tricks and raise my bow in front of me, causing the arrow to hit it and ricochet off. I gulp, glad it hit the bow. Somehow, though, I knew it wouldn't hit me. A zap of pain shakes me from my thoughts and I look down to my arm, where there is a small slice from an arrow.
"Focus," Elanil exclaims, her tone slightly apologetic.
I fight back the urge to cry out, bitingly lip against the pain throbbing from the cut and blinking the tears out of my eyes. Looking back to El, I duck just in time for another arrow to go flying over my head. She sends arrow after arrow, not pausing. I duck, roll, block with my bow, and everything else I can't think of. I let out a groan of pain through gritted teeth as an arrow just barely doesn't miss my leg, slicing a shallow cut on my thigh. It's not deep, but oh my god does it hurt. It's like a paper cut, but worse. It also feels gross, like every single movement stretches the broken skin in a way that makes pain shoot up my leg all over again. My vision is blurry with tears I try to fight off, and I have to bite my bottom lip to keep it from wobbling.
Nevermind, this isn't exactly fun anymore.
-
The next few days are the same as the first day- practicing shooting, then defending. My aim is getting better, and two days later I'm able to hit the blue mark, which is just around the center. I'm also getting better at defending myself. The nurse sent me a whole jar of the healing lotion stuff, so I've been religiously using it to heal my cuts. All in all, I'm feeling really strong.
Good," El praises as I swipe my bow down, knocking down an arrow flying my way. With the next arrow that come whizzing at me, so fast it's almost a blur, I subconsciously push off of the combat mats, backflipping over the arrow and landing smoothly on my feet. I whirl around to face El, my hair slapping my face.
"YES!" Elanil cries excitedly. I laugh, taken aback by how easy that felt. I don't have much time to think on it, though, cause Elanil sends another arrow my way. This time I turn, using my elf senses as I move just so, and the arrow hits the sheath of arrows on my back, sticking for a second before falling off. Arrow after arrow I duck and weave, blocking and maneuvering until I'm sweating and tired. I barely feel my movements by now. It's starting to feel oddly like something as easy as walking, like I barely have to think about it.
I hear the hiss of another arrow leaving the bowstring. Without thinking, I reach my hand up lighting fast. Elanil's arms drop down, her eyes widening. I look at her, confused, until I feel that my arm, the one not holding my bow, is up. Like I'm holding something. I turn my head and my mouth drops open. My hand is right by the side of my head, and my fingers are wrapped around an arrow. I bring my hand down, uncurling my tension-tight fingers and staring at the arrow in disbelief. I look back up at El.
"Did I just..?"
Elanil nods, a smile creeping onto her face, broadening with each passing second.
"Yep. You just grabbed that arrow in mid-air. I- Do you have a cut or anything from it..?"
I quickly put my bow diagonally across my body the way El showed me, dropping the arrow and examining my hand.
"No," I breathe, glancing back up at Elanil with a smile. "How did I do that?!"
"I don't- It's probably your elf reflexes, but that's advanced stuff. Not many people can do that. Then again, your father was an amazing warrior."
I nod, looking down at my hand again. Then I start laughing. The idea of me catching an arrow going so fast I could barely see it- with my bare hand- seems so ridiculous, yet if feels so right. El joins my laughter, coming over to give me a hug.
"That was amazing!" she says again, pulling away and beckoning me to walk back across the arena with her. "Let's end early today, you deserve it."
I beam at her, feeling proud of myself in a way that's different from the feeling of getting first in a race or a 100 on a test.
I feel like my dad would be proud of me too.
—————————————————————————