Chapter 16: On The Mark
Name Thomas Class — Marks 0 Guild — SD 984
Thomas watched Chase and his friends from behind the stands. Chase was being handed a bow and a quiver of arrows and appeared ready to compete in the Archery event. As everyone was talking and walking around waiting for the NPCs to assemble the targets Thomas took his opportunity to sneak up into the stands and secure a seat in the top right corner. Hopefully no one would be asking for their seat. He was not so lucky.
“There you are, Thomas,” said Marlon. The old man had been turned around talking to someone when Thomas sat. “Haven’t seen you for a few days. Been running around?”
“Huh? Oh, hi Marlon.” Thomas shrugged. Not really caring what the old man meant. “Not really. Just relaxing mostly. The Advisors got me on a short leash these days.”
“Breaking too many rules, Thomas. You need to use this more.” Marlon tapped his head and winked.
“You mean I need to think more deeply about my pranks?”
“Maybe,” the old man laughed. “Suppose that advice could go both ways. Say,” Marlon nodded at Chase who seemed to be examining his arrows. “What do you make of that one? Our roommate seems rather suspicious, don’t you think?”
What does Marlon know? Thought Thomas.
Thomas looked at Marlon and said, “What do you mean? Suspicious?”
“It means to have distrust for another’s motives.”
“I know what the word means,” fumed Thomas. Sometimes Marlon could get really aggravating. “I mean how?”
Marlon splayed his hands, palms upward as if to say “well you didn’t hear it from me.”
“I was just thinking about meeting him the other day in our room. Seemed like a nice enough chap, but rather guarded at the same time. Guess that wouldn’t be so unusual having just came to a fantasy world simulation. But then I kept thinking about his terse responses, how he seemed to want to avoid answering too many questions. Usually when people get to the island they won’t shut up for at least a week.”
Thomas shrugged. “Maybe he’s just the quiet type.”
“Perhaps.” Marlon stroked his beard. “And then of course he stole my potion right from under my nose. Rather amazing feat of dexterity wouldn’t you agree?”
Oh, I forgot about that, thought Thomas.
“Uh, right,” said Thomas. “I mean—I don’t know what you are talking about. I didn’t see him steal anything.”
Marlon chuckled. “Relax, Thomas. It doesn’t matter much to me one way or the other. I just find it fascinating that a person newly arrived from the Old World would know how to do something like that unless they had been a trained pickpocket or burglar in their old life.”
“Maybe he was in his old life,” said Thomas. “He could have been a lot of stuff.”
“What do you mean?”
“Uh…I don’t know, really. Look! They’re beginning.”
There were ten archers lined up in a row. At intervals of 20, 50, and 90 yards were large targets which the NPCs had wheeled out. Thomas saw chase near the middle of the group. He was standing casually and didn’t seem too worried.
“THE ARCHERY CONTEST IS ABOUT TO COMMENCE,” announced Brix. Somehow his voice was louder than seemed possible. Thomas saw that he wasn’t even cupping his hands around his mouth to increase the volume. He was just designed to be loud. “EVERYONE, PLEASE GIVE A ROUND OF APPLAUSE TO THE COMPETITORS.”
Scattered claps sounded around the stands and the field. Archery didn’t seem to interest the crowd as much as the sparing had.
“ARCHERS, ON MY MARK YOU MAY SHOOT AT THE 30 YARD TARGET. THOSE WHO FAIL TO SCORE A BULLSEYE WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. READY YOUR BOWS.”
The ten archers each nocked an arrow.
“DRAW!” shouted Brix.
Ten hands drew ten arrows. Thomas saw Chase draw the arrow all the way to his cheek and sight down the shaft.
“FIRE!”
Whumpmpmpmp. The arrows hit the targets near the same time. No one missed, but only half got a bullseye. Five archers walked away after Brix examined their arrows. Thomas watched the flustered players who were disqualified return to their disappointed teammates. Chase’s teammates were on the edge of the field and cheered loudly as his near perfect bullseye.
“How many new players can do that, for instance?” Said Marlon. He clapped along with the crowd as he whispered to Thomas.
“I dunno,” said Thomas. He watched the NPCs remove the first set of targets from the field. The next was the 50 yard targets. “Everyone lost their memories but they kept most of what they know. I guess Chase could use the bow in the Old World.”
“ARCHERS, ON MY MARK YOU MAY SHOOT AT THE 50 YARD TARGET. THE TWO LOWEST SCORES WILL BE DISQUALIFIED. NO BULLSEYE IS NEEDED.”
The remaining five archers knocked their arrows and waited for Brix’s command to fire. Now that half were gone Thomas saw that Chase’s competition was stiff. He recognized Meredith, a woman who had spent nearly every waking moment since she spawned at the range, and also Sleepy Mark, so named by the other players after his penchant for hitting bullseyes through half closed eyelids.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“I’ve never seen those two lose to anyone but each other,” whispered Marlon to Thomas. “I think our friend is about to run out of his luck.”
I wouldn’t bet on that, thought Thomas. And then, just as Thomas realized he really should bet with Marlon as the old man loved making odds, Brix bellowed across the field.
“DRAW!…FIRE!”
Whumpmpmpmp. The crowd was quiet as they awaited Brix to examine the targets. All five archers had gotten near or on the bullseyes.
Meredith’s was the first arrow Brix checked and it was exactly in the middle, he left her arrow there and her teammates cheered. The people around Thomas clapped. Sleepy Mark likewise had a perfect bullseye and he waved lazily to everyone who cheered him as Brix motioned that he had passed. The final three were not so perfect.
“Those look pretty close,” said Marlon. “I can’t tell from this distance which ones are closer.”
“Me neither,” said Thomas. He watched the master at arms walk by each of the remaining three targets in turn. Brix about faced at the last one, having made his decision. He plucked two arrows from two targets and marched them back to the archers to return to the losers. He then turned back to the crowd. A look of excitement was on his face.
“FOR THE FINAL ROUND WE HAVE MEREDITH, SLEEPY MARK, AND A NEWLY SPAWNED PLAYER, CHASE.”
“Incredible,” muttered Marlon. He sounded impressed.
Thomas found himself clapping along with the crowd and cheering louder than anyone. Chase’s teammates seemed ready to run out to the field and carry him on their shoulders. The strong guy, Thomas thought his name was Brent, seemed especially happy as he had picked up his friend, a smaller girl, and was spinning her around as he hugged her tightly. Despite the moment Thomas overheard people talking about Chase. Newly spawned players never fared well in the Triple Fives. No matter the outcome of the final target Thomas knew there would be a lot of talk about Chase from here on out. Players who showed any kind of promise were gossiped about by NPC and players alike.
“I will have to remember to ask Chase later what he remembers about shooting a bow in the Old World. Even without memories his muscle memory is perfect.” Marlon pointed to their roommate who was chatting with Sleepy Mark as they awaited the final target. “Imagine he never picked up a bow while here, would he have never known that he could fire so accurately? Do most players have dormant skills which never see the light of day because their memories are wiped? These are the questions which keep me up at night, Thomas,” he added.
Thomas sighed. “Really? What keeps me up at night are your dozen or so trips to the bathroom.”
“It’s hardly a dozen, young man.”
“Maybe you should study that more instead of ‘muscle memory’ or whatever you said, old man.”
“Old? I am barely 65, you know.”
“Really?” Thomas couldn’t hide his shock. “I’ve been telling everyone you are 80 at least.”
“What?” Marlon looked indignant. “Who have you been telling that?”
Thomas shrugged. “Don’t worry I barely talk to those women you like. I think I mentioned it to Chase, though.”
That seemed to mollify Marlon, who sat with his arms crossed and didn’t say another word to Thomas.
“ARCHERS, THE FINAL TARGET STANDS AT 90 YARDS. EACH OF YOU WILL TAKE TURNS FIRING AT A SINGLE TARGET. ONLY THE LOWEST SCORING ARHCER WILL BE DISQUALIFIED AND THE TWO REMAINING TEAMS WILL BE GOING ON TO THE FINAL COMPETITION.”
The crowd fell silent. To Thomas’ eyes the targets at 90 yards seemed impossibly far away. When he had tried to shoot a bow on his first training day Brix hadn’t been able to find a bow small enough for him to fully draw the string to his cheek. He couldn’t imagine the strength and the accuracy needed to land such a distant shot.
“MEREDITH,” announced Brix. “READY YOUR ARROW.”
Meredith was a tall woman with long blonde hair. She drew and arrow from her quiver and smoothly knocked it against the string.
“FIRE WHEN READY.” Brix held his left arm arm in the direction of the stands in order to silence any chatter.
In one fluid motion Meredith drew the string to her cheek, sighted down the shaft, and let it fly. Every head including Thomas’ moved from left to right as they followed the flight of the arrow 90 yards down the field.
Whump. The arrow landed with a soft thud into the target.
“BULLSEYE!”
As the crowd went wild and Meredith’s team cheered their teammate Marlon had to lean close to Thomas to be heard.
“What happens if all three get a bullseye? I’ve never been to a Triple Five before.”
“I’ve never seen it happen before,” said Thomas. “I guess they will keep on shooting until someone misses.”
“That would be logical, I suppose.”
“SLEEPY MARK,” announced Brix as the crowd quieted down. “READY YOUR ARROW.”
Living up to his nick name, Sleepy Mark appeared about to drift off despite all the excitement. He nearly seemed to be unaware that he was in a competition and Brix had to yell at him twice before he drew an arrow.
“MARK!” Said Brix again. “I SAID READY YOUR ARROW.”
Sleepy Mark waved at Brix like he was shooing a fly and then carefully selected an arrow from his quiver. Thomas saw him lick his lips before he knocked it. Perhaps he was tasting the air.
“FIRE WHEN READY.”
Even faster than Meredith, Sleepy Mark drew and fired within a second. Again the crowd followed the arrow all the way to the target.
Whump.
A young looking NPC who was stationed near the target ran over to where Mark’s arrow had landed. He then turned around and held up nine fingers.
“SLEEPY MARK HAS STRUCK THE INNER CIRCLE AROUND THE BULLSEYE.”
“Wow,” said Thomas, realizing what that meant. He didn’t wait for Marlon to ask him before he explained to the old man. “Sleepy Mark hit right next to Meredith’s bullseye. That means Chase also has to get a bullseye in order to beat Mark.”
“The stakes are high then,” responded Marlon. “Too bad Mark didn’t hit the target further away from the center. Chase is going to have a tricky time with this one.”
“Yeah,” said Thomas. “I was hoping for some wind or something.”
Marlon laughed and patted Thomas on the back. For some reason Thomas wanted Chase to win this archery completion. He didn’t care about the other events, but seeing Chase beat the other teams in this felt important.
As the cheers died down Brix held his arm up again for silence.
“CHASE, READY YOUR ARROW.”
Both his competitors gave Chase a wide berth. They seemed unsure how to feel about this new player. In any other case their victories were already assured, but, as Chase had already made it so far they seemed to be stuck between relief and worry. Thomas saw that Chase’s team had their eyes glued to him, except for Amelie who was covering her eyes with her hands.
“FIRE WHEN READY.”
Chase had not drawn his arrow fully at Brix’s command, but now slowly drew it back to his cheek. He held it there for longer than the other two had and Thomas thought he saw his hand begin to shake.
What’s that all about? Thought Thomas.
Whump.
The crowd gasped.
"What is it?" Marlon grasped Thomas' shoulder. "I can't see. Did he miss?"
"That NPC is checking."
Everyone around began to whisper. From this distance Thomas himself couldn't see Chase's arrow, but neither could he see the other two very well either.
The NPC who had checked Sleepy Mark's arrow was walking briskly over the Brix. He was holding something long and slender clutched in his hand.
All eyes were on the master at arms as he took what the other NPC handed him. He seemed shocked and Thomas saw his eyes widen.
"CHASE HAS HIT A BULLSEYE," said Brix. He held up what was in his hand. It was what looked like two slender pieces of wood too thin to be a full arrow. "MEREDITH'S ARROW HAS BEEN SPLIT DOWN THE MIDDLE."
Everyone stood and the stands shook as players and NPCs alike cheered. None were louder than Chase's team as Brent sprinted across the field and nearly tackled Chase as he lifted him off his feet in a bear hug.
“Incredible,” said Marlon, still clapping along with everyone else. “I can’t believe what I just saw. I wonder if Chase would allow me to examine his eyes.”
I can’t believe it, thought Thomas. He was utterly dumbstruck. He couldn’t even speak. When Marlon looked at him he sounded concerned.
“Thomas? Everything all right? You don’t look too well.”
“Yeah,” said Thomas. His voice came out as a squeak. “I’ll be right back.”
Ignoring Marlon’s protests, Thomas left his seat and weaved his way through the mass of celebrating bodies until he landed on the bottom stair. Without looking back he turned the corner of the stands and ran until he was hidden behind the wooden structure and far from prying eyes. When he was sure no one was around he pulled a folded up newspaper from his shirt and carefully opened the pages.
In a photo on page 8 a pair of dark blue eyes gazed back at him. It was a man with a care free smile and a bow clenched in his hands. Thomas read the caption.
Spade Nightstalker and his famous Blasted Bow won off Keiren the Mad circa 965sd.
“I knew it,” Thomas said to himself. “I knew it!”
“Knew what, Thomas?”
Wheeling around and hiding the paper behind his back Thomas saw Seb grinning like a devil and slowly pounding a fist into his open palm.
“What do you want, Seb.”
The pudgy boy’s grin widened. The sound of Seb punching his hand seemed to drown out the crowd above.
“Let me show you, you little brat.”