We approach the main road, carts full of goods slowly filing in amongst the sea of people, the cart owners rushing as fast as possible to find the best spots to set up. Silven still has my hand in his grasp, holding firm so I don't slip away, and he's practically dragging me along. Joffrey stops about a hundred feet before the road begins, turning to us.
“You all, uh, go on ahead. I'm going to wait here for Marianne, see if she needs any help.”
“You sure?” Silven questions.
“Yeah, go have fun. I bet they have plenty of things to do.”
“Okay, don't try too hard to impress her, alright?” Silven sneers.
“Oh, ha ha.” Joffrey replies, deadpan, “Go on, get in there.” He moves to give Silven a push in the back, but he dips out of the way, leaning into me.
“Haha! Too slow,” He cackles.
Hrithika jumps into the conversation, “Look, everyone! Someone's bringing a Tigerbear through!” Everyone's eyes turn to the road as a hulking creature, easily the size of the carts, with orange fur and black stripes is being led on a rope by a man through everyone, the crowd splitting as the beast treads down the middle of the road.
My fear of crowded spaces leaves me for a moment as I watch this beautiful animal walk, the muscles in its legs visibly constricting as it applies pressure to the ground.
“Whoa…” Silven and I speak in tandem, our jaws reaching toward the ground in awe.
“I wonder where they're taking it,” I questioned.
“Maybe they're an animal tamer? We had a few of those in the Kingdom,” Oswin theorized, scratching his bearded chin.
Kendrick interrupts everyone with a loud shout, “They have free drink tokens!” He juts his finger forward, pointing out a small kiosk handing out coins. All of the adults’ heads snap to the stall, Joffrey included. “Come on! Let's go get in line.”
We leave Joffrey by the front as he goes through an internal crisis. His head snaps back and forth between the forest and the town, debating whether to continue waiting as we take our place in the queue. The line moves surprisingly quickly, and we reach the front in just a few minutes. I see three people working the stall, one at the counter and two in the back, and notice that the coins are being handmade by the back two. One of the men is grabbing small globs of mud, rolling it between his hands as the wet sludge slowly shapes into a ball, and a small teal glow radiates from his palms. Quickly, the mud hardens, growing shinier and smooth, turning into a small sphere of pure copper. He then hands it to the other man, who’s holding two small metal plates with engravings on them. He places the ball between the plates and squeezes his hands tightly together. The plates grow red hot, melting the ball of copper until it becomes a flat, embossed coin that he proceeds to release from the press into a bucket of cooling liquid. That's so cool! I wonder how their Specialties work. The man working the counter hands each of the adults two drink tokens and sends us on our way.
The flow of the crowd is relatively easy to follow, which has all of us thankful, and we continue down the main road, looking down side roads to see if anything interests us. I see a boy roll past carrying a cart full of beautifully crafted pottery, and can't help but stare at the intricate and vibrant patterns. Before I can draw anyone else's attention, Hrithika booms out.
“There's a zoo!”
My eyes break away from the pottery and I see her pointing down a side road, a large sign at the end with the words “Verdangrove Zoo” written neatly and decoratively. The first thought that occurs to me is, What's a zoo? I turned back looking for the cart of pottery, but they were lost in the sea of people. The bustling of the crowd sends me shrinking backward, my breath catching in my throat. I stumble backward into Silven, who turns and catches me with a surprised shock on his face, nearly falling back into Hrithika.
“Whoa, Salem, are you okay?”
“I- I-,” my words struggle to escape.
“Hey, hey, it's okay. Come on, let's go this way. I bet they have some cool animals to check out.”
Silven pulls me along through the bustling path, tracking close behind the rest of the group. My body flinches at each passing body as we move, Silven's grip growing tighter on my shoulder, pulling me as close as possible to himself. He's so warm. I take in the radiating heat, my focus on the crowd drifting enough to calm my mind as we part through them.
We reach the entrance archway to the zoo and walk in, being greeted with different large pens lined by people, containing herds of docile animals. So they keep animals in pens? Do the people just… look at them? Silven pulls my hand forward, dragging me in tow to the first enclosure with a large tower of rock in the center. As we get closer, he slips his way in front of the crowd, pulling me alongside him, and I let out a small gasp. The pen is a beautiful miniature landscape, with flowing water, small ponds, and plenty of grass and flora. A rock spire is the centerpiece, jutting edges and platforms across its entirety. My sight lands on the creatures after a few seconds and my eyes flutter for a moment before staring agog, a small excited yelp escaping my gaping mouth.
“Wh-what are those?” I whisper to Silven, starting to instinctually rock back and forth on my heels. Wow, so I guess a zoo brings all sorts of animals together… that's so cool! I watch one of them float through the water on his back, four little hooved feet, curled up as it sleeps and two little horns on its head barely breaking the surface of the water. I watch the whiskers on its rounded face twitch and my heart warms. How is it so cute?
“Let's see what the plaque says,” He replies, taking my hand and slithering through the crowd to the nearest information. We stand up and he begins reading the plaque to me.
“Orrett, this small semi-aquatic mammal can traverse land and water with ease thanks to its special hooves. Their hooves are sharp enough on the edges to wedge into the rocks, creating footing on near-vertical surfaces. However, each hoof splits into four sections, with webbing between them to allow their sleek bodies to propel through water with ease. Their fur is ultra-dense, making them buoyant enough to float on the surface of water. Orretts also have two sharp horns to help them break branches with food, and also to play fight. They are very social creatures and are known to bring gifts to one another.”
“Whoa…” I look back at the spire and see an Orrett on the side of the spire, walking on almost invisible ledges with no hesitation to reach a perching point. My eyes glimmer with light, and I look over at Silven, who is beaming at me with the biggest smile I've ever seen on him. Immediately, the gears in my head jam to a stop and my face flushes with heat. “U-uh… I mea- Wel- Let's hurry and check out the next one!” I dash through the people away from Silven, accidentally bumping into a few of them as I go. Finding a break in the crowd, I take a second to catch my breath. What was that look for? And why did I feel so… warm? I… still do… Someone taps my shoulder and I jolt around and see it's him, causing my face to warm again, contorting as I fight this feeling in my chest.
“Hey! Why did you run off like that?”
“I… uh, I,” My eyes meet his and he still holds that same bright expression as before, which suddenly made my eye line bury into the dirt. I hear him chuckle and he swoops an arm under my shoulder, hooking his elbow into mine and pulling me forward.
“I bet you're just excited to see all of the animals, yeah?” I feel his eyes staring at me intensely as I focus on the path directly ahead of me, my cheeks burning up. Oh god, he's so close. I nod rapidly and take off, yanking him forward to the next enclosure trying my best to hide my face and catch my breath. I reach the railing, Silven still being dragged with me, and try to focus on the animal in the pen. Focus, focus, just breathe. I stare hard at the half-water, half-muddy land enclosure with a dozen or so really big rocks sitting around, and a handful of smaller ones, but no animals in sight. I hear a few visitors holler things like, ‘what is this?’ or ‘There’s nothing there!’, and after a few seconds I see a largely built man with a deep tan enter the pen wearing pale beige shorts and button-up shirt with dark sweat stains under his arms. He begins with a booming voice, projecting loudly over the crowd.
“Hello everyone, I am Zookeeper Reynolds, and I can answer any questions you may have. For example…” He wanders over and rubs circles on one of the boulders, lifting one of the smaller rocks set nearby about as large as his head. He looks around and sets his eyes on me, pressed against the railing, and walks over. “Hello young man, what's your name?”
“Uh, it's…” I shoot a glance at Silven, confused, but he nods toward the gentleman, “It's… Salem.”
“Well Salem, want to do me a favor and scratch this rock right here?” He lifts the rock up and points to a specific spot on it.
I gingerly reach out and scratch the rock, and my eyes widen as I see two eyes open and a squeaky little yowl escapes its yawning mouth, four stubby legs separating from the rock body and extending as it stretches into life. The animal tilts its head as if it's studying me and I scratch its head. It leans into the affection, enjoying the feeling as its eyes flutter. I hear the ‘Aww’ of the rest of the crowd melt away as I share this moment with this adorable creature, its little head nuzzling into my palm. A smile fills my face as I look into the animal's eyes. The Zookeeper gently pulls away, moving around and allowing others in the crowd the chance to pet the baby. He moves back to the middle of the pen, bolstering his voice again.
“Okay everyone, these lovely large rocks are called Bouldozors, and they aren't rocks at all. These animals have developed a camouflage of sorts over time, allowing them to sneak up on unsuspecting prey. These animals love both meat and plants, and if it can't find enough of one source, its body can adjust to a one-sided diet.” He pulls out a large fish and begins dangling it in front of one of the rocks. In a flash, the Bouldozor’s jaw closed around the fish, crunching through effortlessly and swallowing it in seconds. Gasps fill the air, and Reynolds pets the giant’s head as it settles back into a resting position. “These are indeed dangerous beasts if encountered in the wild, they can move at surprisingly incredible speeds and will strike the moment you let your guard down.” As if on cue, one of the Bouldozors behind him thrusts forward at lightning-fast speeds. A few people in the crowd shriek, but Reynolds smirks and effortlessly leaps up, somersaulting over the back of the predator, and lands elegantly in the muddy earth. Everyone cheers, amazed at his speed and precision, and I turn to Silven as he watches the animals in wonder, his awestruck smile causes my breath to hitch and my heart begins beating faster. Why do I always feel like this around him? What do I do? I can't keep running away from him…
My focus shifts back to the Bouldozors, as the Zookeeper continues his dance of dodging and leaping with the animals, almost too perfectly. Silven nudges my shoulder and I turn to him, he leans in toward my ear and I try to make out what he says over the crowd hollering excitedly.
“We should probably go find the others, we kind of ran off on them,” his words were barely audible above the excited screams.
I nod and he takes my hand again as we make our way back out into an open space, and I try to avoid making eye contact. With the loud sound no longer encapsulating us, we can finally hear each other again. Silven wiggles his pinky finger in one of his ears, his expression pinching toward the side.
“God, I forget why I avoid crowds,” Silven groans, “Anyway, let's find the others. Look around, see if you can spot them.”
Our heads go on a swivel, scouting through the crowd until my eyes land on Hrithika, with a group of people between us. Her neck is stretched above the tourists and she seems to be looking for us as well. We make eye contact and her head shoots back down, I assume to tell the other two.
“Found them!” I tug on Silven's sleeve, pointing in their direction. He takes me under his arm and we walk into and through the people, reaching Hrithika, Oswin and Kendrick as the two men are fighting over which one of the patterns on these animals is more adorable. We walk up to the fully netted enclosure and read the name off the plaque.
“A… Candagin?” My eyebrow raises as I look up into the enclosure full of short trees with ropes, nets and swings spattered around. A sleek feline body darts through an opening in the branches, and I peel my eyes, trying to focus on it. Hrithika sees me craning my head around trying to spot one and she slinks over, crouching down and pointing forward, her index finger shaping into a pointed arrow.
“There's one, Salem,” She stretches her finger forward deep into the pen. I giggle watching as her finger splits in two at the end and gently pinches the tail of the creature. The Candagin whips around, letting out a small screech, as her finger whips back to us. I giggle some more before stopping to admire the animal.
“Whoa…”
Its tail is as long as its body and it has very hand-like back feet. The front limbs were like paws with extended toes, hiding claws underneath their fur. The fur itself is a splotching of black, orange, and white, almost like someone haphazardly threw paint onto a canvas. I look over and notice a few more that are sitting at the edge of the enclosure, right next to Oswin and Kendrick bickering, and they're all calmly sitting and staring at the two of them. One of the Candagin’s fur is solid black, one is orange on top with a white underbelly, and the last one is nearly solid white with its extremities having a gradient to a dark gray. Luckily this enclosure isn't as densely packed so I make a quick dash over and in between Oswin and Kendrick, halting their argument as they both look over, noticing the Candagins looking directly at Oswin.
“Uhh, Oswin, do you see that too?” Kendrick stares in awe at the animals.
“Yes. Yes, I do. I've never seen one sit still this long before, let alone three,” Oswin remarks.
“Neither have I.”
“Wait, you guys have seen these before?” I say, folding my head back, hands gripping the railing, and looking at them upside down. Oswin steps forward, crouching down next to the enclosure and the Candagins take a step closer as well, their little noses sniffing in our direction.
“Surely these have to be tamed ones, right?” Kendrick raises an eyebrow.
“Of course, that's the only thing that makes sense,” Oswin replies.
“Unless… These zookeepers have specifically animal oriented Specialties.”
“You might be right, I forget that Specialties aren't, erm… regulated… outside the walls.”
“It is jarring, yeah.”
“Hey!” I holler, pulling their attention, “You've seen these before?”
“Yes! Sorry, Salem. Kendrick and I saw them frequently about the nobles, they made great companions to the citizens.”
“That's so cool!”
“Yeah it is, shall we head to the next pen?” Oswin smiles at me.
“Yeah!” I hop off the railing as Oswin calls to Hrithika and Silven, and together we meander over to a fully caged enclosure, with three birds about the size of a person's head. I watch as one lifts its wing to pluck at itself and the sun's rays shine through the translucent feathers of its wing, fractaling into impossible dancing patterns of every color imaginable onto the ground below.
I stare agape at the shimmering ground, looking back up at the birds. “What are these called?” I call out, unable to peel my eyes away. Oswin looks at the plaque and reads out the name.
“Crystalbeaks,” He says, “Huh, I’ve never seen one before.” He looks up toward the winged creatures, “They are beautiful birds.”
We spend a few more minutes looking on as they flit around their cage, the light scattering with every motion. A plethora of ‘Ooh’s and ‘Ahh’s can be heard from the crowds. Soon, we group back up and move to the last enclosure, a large canopy tent tunnel.
As we approach the entrance, a worker pulls open the cloth door and we step into the dark pathway. Reaching a second cloth door, another worker opens it up and upon walking in, we’re greeted with a swarm of glowing pink fluttering wings. My eyes grow wide as I struggle to focus on a single glow, and the zookeeper working the tent speaks up beside us.
“Welcome! These curious little glowing insects are called Lumiflies,” She says with a passion in her voice, “These little guys live their entire lives in caves, which is why their enclosure has to be dark, otherwise their senses are completely thrown off. Their glow is produced in their body from nutrients they absorb by eating smaller insects and algae. They have very large wings compared to their body size, and with incredible complex patterns that are entirely unique to each of them.”
I listen intently to her words while watching the cluster of Lumiflies flutter around in a formation like a comet. I glance over at Silven, whose smile hasn't left his face since we arrived, as he watches them dance around and I slowly scoot closer toward him. We bump shoulders and without missing a beat, his arm comes up and falls around me. He’s always so warm…
Eventually, I notice that some of the Lumiflies are breaking formation and fluttering over toward us, and I look over at Oswin. I try to stifle my laughter, but to no avail as Oswin, who is trying his hardest not to panic, is covered almost head to toe in glowing pink, gently flapping wings. The zookeeper runs over apologizing profusely, saying something along the lines of ‘Oh they never do this!’ and Silven and I laugh between ourselves as the rest of them gently brush away the insects, freeing Oswin from his psychological cage.
We spent some time as a group watching the Lumiflies before making our way out the exit of the tent, leading us right back to the entrance of the zoo. Kendrick stretches his arms high into the sky, groaning loudly as if his body hasn’t moved in years.
“Shall we head to this so-called trading district Joffrey was raving about?” Kendrick lets out mid-groan.
“Yes, we should probably track him down, it's been about thirty minutes,” Oswin begins looking around for any indicators. “Hrithika, would you mind…?”
She rolls her eyes and smirks, “Leaving all the work to me, as usual, it seems,” a laugh escapes her mouth as her head launches into the sky, her neck stretching out like a bundle of rope. A few people nearby stop and stare in amazement, as do I, and her head quickly retracts back down to the rest of her body. “It's that way, come on guys.”
We walk together down the sparser roads, checking out occasional carts carrying something that caught our eyes, and finally come upon a sign hung across an intersection reading ‘Trading District' and we head through it. It didn't take long for us to locate Joffrey with Marianne as she got a spot close to the entrance. We head over and I see both of them smile when they notice us, waving us over.
“Sir! I see you carrying that bow, can I Interest you in some accessories to go with that?” I hear the loud gruff voice of another shopkeeper over the others and see Silven's attention drawn, breaking off and ogling their wares.
“So,” Joffrey's voice pulls me back to the group, “How has the Festival been for you guys so far?” His question sparks me to blurt out before the others.
“I got to see a bunch of really cool animals!”
“Oh, really? That's awesome!” Joffrey looks up at Oswin with a bewildered expression, my change in mood stumping him.
Oswin shrugs with a bewildered look.
“There was a bird that had clear feathers and made really colorful patterns on the ground!” I hop back and forth between my feet, wanting to tell him everything I saw.
“Wow, I bet that was cool to see,” Joffrey ruffles my hair, causing strands to cover my face, and I quickly swipe them back.
“Hey!”
Joffrey stifles a chuckle and turns his head away, comedically peering over his shoulder a few times while making a goofy face. A laugh slips out of me, and I quickly try to return to my angry mood, but when he does it one last time, my facade breaks, and I let out a full cackle.
Marianne giggles watching us, and turns to Joffrey, “You should go enjoy the Festival yourself! I've been coming here for a few years so I know what to expect, but this is your first time, go have fun.”
“Are you sure? I don't mind staying to help out.”
“Yes, I'm sure. Go!” She pushes him out from beside the stall, “And take these,” She extends her hand and drops around a dozen drink tokens into Joffrey's palm, “I get extra from some of the boys around here.”
“Wait, what?” Joffrey's eyes snap up to meet her sly smirk, a panicked tone in his voice. Catching himself too late, he clears his throat and recollects himself, uttering a much calmer, “Oh, really?
“Yeah, I know all of them, they're good people,” she smirks, “Why, are you jealous?”
A flush of red covers Joffrey's face, his words stammering out, “I just- I uh, no. No, definitely not.” He averts his eyes, making every effort to avoid eye contact.
Oswin tries to hold in a laugh off on the side, giving Kendrick a slap on the back and exclaiming quietly, “I've never seen him such a bright shade before!” Causing Kendrick to start chuckling profusely.
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A loud booming voice echoing through the sky cuts everyone off, “Archery contest starting at high sun! Thirty minutes until the archery contest! Contestants have fifteen minutes left to sign up! Come win a noble class meal voucher that grants you all the free food you want from any paid concession!”
As soon as I hear the end of the announcement, I turn back to the stall Silven split off to and see he's no longer there. Joffrey comes up behind me and ruffles my hair.
He mutters sarcastically, “Gee, I wonder where Silven could have gone.”
A giggle slips out of my mouth and I notice Joffrey's mouth upturn slightly.
“Let's check out a few more stalls here and then head to the competition.”
“Yeah!” I shout.
Joffrey and I walk around together while Kendrick, Hrithika, and Oswin split away. We walk around for a few minutes, stopping here and there to look at the different goods, and Joffrey picks up a well-bound hardback book with around two hundred blank pages. I notice he spends a few minutes staring into the empty pages, and I can almost see a twinkle of inspiration in his eyes. He pulls out his coin pouch and hands over a small ruby. The stall worker nods, taking the ruby and reaches under the table, pulling out three gold coins, handing them and the book to Joffrey.
“Thank you, enjoy the festival!” The stall worker says cheerfully, Joffrey acknowledging him with a wave.
As we step away from the stall, a glimpse of vibrant color catches my eye. I double take back, stopping in my tracks and Joffrey bumps into me.
“Whoa, you okay Salem?”
“Can we check out that stall?” I point and as a break in the crowd forms, Joffrey sees me pointing at the pottery stand.
“Oh, uh, sure. Why not?”
I run over and begin looking at the different vases and teapots, enamored by the swirls of true colors. I look up and see a boy around my age presumably vibrating with excitement with an older woman sitting in a chair behind him.
I give a smile and he returns it, practically shouting, “Hello! I'm Quentin. Let me know if anything catches your eye!”
His unusually cheerful demeanor makes me apprehensively respond, “Uh, hi… I'm Salem. I… really like the colors. Who made these?”
“I did,” he throws me a confused glance as if I should have known on sight.
“Oh, right, sorry… they're, uh… they're very pretty. How did you get the color so bright?”
“I just have a way with clay. I know what ingredients are best for dying and mixing. I've been making things for a year or two now so I've had some practice.”
Joffrey pipes up, “I'm sorry, you said you've been making them, and only for a couple years at most?”
Quentin is visibly taken aback, “Well, I mean, yeah. Is something wrong with them?”
“Well no, it's just…” he carefully lifts a medium-sized vase up and examines it closely, “The craftsmanship on this… it's easily the work of someone with twenty years experience.”
“Oh!” Quentin hides his shock poorly, his face growing red with a sheepish smile, “Well, thank you, I put a lot of time into them.”
I speak up again, “Okay, well, we're going to watch the archery show! We've got a friend competing and he's really good.”
I see a small light in the boy's eyes and he turns hopefully to his mother, but she shakes her head and wishes us a good day. We head back up the alley looking for the others.
“Well, what was that all about?” Joffrey asks as we meander.
“I don't know… I saw his cart earlier before the zoo and I just had a weird feeling like I had to find him.”
“Strange. Well, we should hurry up before the competition starts,” he whistles to grab the other three’s attention as they are all huddled around a small stall. I see Hrithika’s ear grow ten times in size, coning toward us. Her head spins around and she nudges the other two, turning to hold up a large backpack, running over quickly with the other two in tow.
“Good find, Hrithika,” Joffrey extends his hand, offering to carry it.
“Nope! I found it, I'll wear it,” She pulls the straps over her shoulders.
“Fair enough,” He slicks back his hair, changing courses, “Anyway, I guarantee Silven went to enter that archery competition, we should head on over before it starts. Better to stay close together anyways.”
With everyone in agreement, we exit the alley and head toward the center of town where the competition is being held.
As we enter the large open plaza, we see the archery field is easily three hundred feet in length, with ringed targets scattered at different distances. A rather large gathering has formed on either side of the field as the contestants wait patiently to begin on the firing line. There's also a large selection of food and bar stalls dotting the edge of the plaza, with easily fifty tables laid somewhat uniformly.
“Should we grab a table?” Kendrick suggests.
“Yeah, my legs are feeling a little sore,” Oswin groans, rubbing the top of his thighs.
“You… can't be serious, I've watched you pace in circles around a room for five hours or more.” Kendrick mocks, to which a feigned offended look plasters Oswin's face.
“Alright, let's grab one with a decent view close to the match.” Joffrey leads us over to the closest table, about fifty feet from the firing line.
“I'll grab us a round of ales,” Kendrick takes a coin from each of the adults and meanders off toward the nearest bar. I separate from the group, spotting Silven and running over to where he's stretching with his back to me.
“Hey!” I holler, causing him to jump like a frightened Squirbunny, and he whips around startled before realizing it's me.
“Oh, hey, sorry! I couldn't help myself, I wanted an excuse to really try out this bow. Y’know, without the, uh… life or death part.” he titters.
“Yeah…” my eyes haze, and I stare into the distance. All the sound blurs around me into white noise and my mind replays that instant in my mind on loop. Warmth washes over my body as the beast’s blast covers my thoughts. A shake snaps me back to reality and I stare blankly at Silven as his hand is resting on my shoulder. The heat dissipates and I try to brush it off. Switching gears, I say, “Anyway, how's the competition looking?” I eye down the line-up, drawing in a deep, slow breath as I hold back the well in my eyes.
He seems too focused on the competition to notice, expressing excitedly, “Most of them should be a piece of cake, but that one guy down there, third from the end, he's good. His practice shots told me a lot. I'm really looking forward to facing him.” His voice has a fire in it, I can hear it. I look down the line and see who Silven referred to, and I don't know how I missed him the first time. The man is easily a head taller than the next tallest contestant though his body seems rather lanky. I notice the bow the man is using is much longer than all the others and I turn to Silven.
“What's up with his bow?”
“That's an Elderwood Longbow with Iron-fitted eyes for a heavier pull,” he stares intimidatingly at the masterwork of a bow, “I bet it has a weight of around 250 pounds. Elderwood is one of the densest woods used to make bows. Despite that density, they have the greatest tensile strength of all. The iron fittings allow the string to pull much further back without risk of splitting the limbs of the bow, it's a masterpiece.”
As I open my mouth to say something, the announcing voice comes back in the sky.
“Alright, ladies and gentlemen, it's nearly time to begin. Let's go over the rules. Each round will be an elimination round. One by one, each contestant gets a single arrow to hit as close to the center as possible. The targets are enchanted with a momentum-stopping barrier, as well as a creative use of Illusion abilities to display the point of impact as well as the contestant's number and which ring out of ten they hit. The competition starts with the closest target, and each round moves back to the closest one behind it, until the finalists have a 350-foot shot at victory. There will be fifteen rounds in total. The first round starts at fifty feet. With that being said, let's begin! ”
I notice the numbers on the back of the contestants, one through sixteen, but sorted randomly along the firing line. They seem to be firing in numerical order, though. I look at Silven and see the number five, and looking at the giant at the end I see the number fourteen. So, the big guy is almost the last one to shoot, I wonder just how good he is.
The first four contestants take their turns, hitting around the second and third rings. By the time the third archer fires, I look back and see Kendrick has sauntered his way back over to the table carrying two large ales in each hand, setting them down with an audible clank. Recentering my focus, I flip around and watch Silven draw back his string, pull in a deep steady breath, and release. The arrow zips and pings off the target. After a second, the mark appears in the center ring. The crowd starts focusing their attention toward Silven as the contestants continue down the line. It's clear quickly that none of the others are regular bow users, some of them even struggling to draw their arrows. Next up is number fourteen, and I make sure to watch intently. His leading foot firms into the ground, his following foot digging angled backward into the gravel. That stance looks like a statue… He draws the bow back effortlessly, pulling in a deep controlled breath. PING. His arrow moves faster than I could see, and I look at the target, seeing his mark directly on top of Silven's. Wait… what? Was that luck? But… no, not with a stance like that. How old is he? He has to have trained for years, right? And someone with his build drawing something that heavy? I wonder what his specialty is.
The first round finishes up and number seven is eliminated as he missed the target completely. I feel a small tap on my shoulder and look over to see Quentin standing before me.
“Hey!” He says, “I managed to slip away from the stall to come check this out.”
I stare for a second before snapping myself out of trance, my head recoiling, and my voice jumps out of me, “Oh, awesome! We're rooting for number five, that's the friend I told you about.” I point to Silven.
“Oh, cool! I've never shot a bow before, have you?”
“No, I haven't, but I want to learn how.”
“Ooh, me too. They're so cool.”
As we talk, the announcer calls out the start signal and our attention is drawn back to the match. Rounds start going by, Silven and the tall man going shot-for-shot dead center on each target. Seventy five feet, a hundred feet, one-twenty, one-forty, one-sixty, one-eighty. Two hundred. As the numbers begin to dwindle, it's clear no one is on the level of Silven and the mystery tall man.
It comes down to the final three. Silven, number fourteen, and number nine. The distance is three hundred feet, Silven goes first and, after taking a moment to control his aim, pings the center ring once again. Number nine is next, and the poor guy has no chance. He's missed the last three targets and only scraped by because he managed to stay the closest. He fires and it drops down around 200 feet, thudding into the ground. Number fourteen is up now, and he doesn't seem to be breaking a sweat, he draws, his form just as perfect as his first shot. He arcs his bow up a few inches and releases, the arrow zips through the air at a blistering speed, pinging the target quickly. Finally, Silven's edge begins showing. Number fourteen hit just outside the center in the first ring. The man groans audibly, cursing under his breath. Before the finals start, the announcer comes back on.
“Alright folks, for the last round here, each competitor gets three arrows, while alternating their shots. The enchantments are not applied to the last target, so make those shots stick!”
My head swivels around, searching for the announcer. I still can't tell where that voice is coming from, that's such an interesting specialty.
The finalist facing Silven whips an arrow out of his quiver, drawing back rapidly and pausing for a moment to correct his aim. He lets go and the arrow slices silently through the sky, embedding itself with a distant thud. One of the gamekeepers runs on the field, checking the target and the announcer voice booms out from the man. Well I guess that answers my question.
“Well folks, this is a first! Dead center at 350 feet! Incredible!”
The competitor pumps his fist at the call.
Wow… This guy really is amazing. It’s okay, Silven’s got this, no problem. Right?
Silven cracks his neck, rolling his shoulder and huffing a few puffs of air.
“You got this Silven!” Joffrey's voice behind me nearly sends me careening over the rope toward the firing line. I whip around, ecstatic to see he came up to support Silven. I turn back and shout.
“Yeah! Show him how it's done!”
I glance over and see number fourteen scowling at me. Immediately I slink behind Joffrey, trying to hide away.
I look back at Silven, and watch carefully. He draws the string back, sucks in a big breath, raises his bow and releases. A few seconds go by and we hear a faint thud.
The announcer makes his way out to check again, his surprise clear in his tone.
“W-wow everyone, in a crazy turn of events, our other competitor has managed to land his arrow right next to the first, another dead center hit!” He shouts as the crowd buzzes amongst themselves. Number fourteen is eyeing Silven closely, muttering under his breath. The announcer exits the field and gives the go ahead.
The tall man readies his bow and I make sure to watch carefully. He draws back so much that the bow is practically a ‘u’ shape. The string snaps forward, the arrow splitting the air and a crack is heard not even a second later. The announcer runs back out, booming out, “This is unbelievable! Our first finalist managed to hit so close to his previous shot that it partially cracked his first arrow! We truly are in the presence of two great archers! ”
Silven grunts and lines up his second shot, wasting no time to fire. The arrow zips down the range, a distinct cracking sound ringing out, and the announcer calls it out.
“I- Incredible! Amazing! He… he split his previous arrow! Straight down the middle! What are they putting in this food today? I'm at a loss for words here, folks!”
The other finalist growls and grits his teeth, anger showing in his stance as his balance is more dynamic than before. He fires again, and another crack echoes. He managed to split his arrow down the middle just like Silven did. Everyone is on the edge of their seats, a raucous murmur spreads through the crowd. Silven takes a moment to collect himself, breathing deeply in and out before readying his final shot. He lines himself up once more, drawing back as hard as he can. The crowd’s volume has dropped from a loud buzz to complete silence as the arrow leaves Silven’s bow. The distant cracking sound draws out a quick celebration from Silven as he quietly pumps his fists. As the gamekeeper runs onto the field, the people start a dull roar, and after what feels like ages, he shouts out the result.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we have our winner! Contestant number five, with his last arrow, has managed to not only split his previous two arrows, but has shot clear through the target! Number five is the winner!”
With that, the crowd erupts into ear-piercing applause, strangers coming up and congratulating him left and right. I get pushed around as people shove by to shake hands with Silven, Joffrey pulling me out by the back of my shirt so I don't get crushed. The announcer makes his way down the field and booms out once more.
“Here you go, young man, your noble class meal voucher! Unlimited uses at any concession! As for the rest of you, stay close by as we prepare for the horse races!”
The crowd begins to disperse from where Silven was standing enough for all of us in the group to come over and talk.
“I knew you had it!” I tackle him, almost taking him off his feet. He catches himself and laughs out loud.
“Yeah, of course I did. But, man, that other guy was good.”
“No match for you though, Sil,” Joffrey remarks with a scoff, “Speak of the devil, I think you have a fan”. Joffrey nods in the direction behind Silven and we all look, seeing number fourteen making his way over to us with an energy of anger almost radiating off of him. Joffrey, Kendrick and Hrithika bulk up their chests, ready to jump in in case they need to split something up.
The man marches right up to Silven and before anyone can jump in his way, he drops to one knee, bowing his head.
“Your archery skills and techniques are truly incredible. It was an honor to compete with you.” The man keeps his eyes burrowed in the dirt. Silven extends his hand, to which the man glances up.
“Likewise, it's been a long time since I had someone match my accuracy. I'm Silven.” He says as the man takes his hand and rises to his feet, giving a quick but firm shake.
“Emil,” He replies, “Thank you for a well fought competition, and congratulations.”
“Absolutely, I'm always up for a challenge.”
“You know…” Emil pauses for an almost uncomfortable amount of time, rolling his head around in thought before sighing deeply, “Back in our walls, I'm one of our Royal Archers. If you thought I was good and want more of a challenge, you should come back and challenge Araceli. She is the Head of the Royal Archers.”
“Oh, wow, really? Would she be willing to do that?” Silven’s eyes light up.
“We don’t see much action where we are, I’m sure she’d love to.”
Silven turns to Joffrey and the others with a hopeful look in his eyes.
Joffrey looks around for a second to gather small nods from the group, shrugs, and says, “I mean, we don’t really have any idea where to head from here. That sounds like a good place to start.”
“Yes!” Silven cheers, bouncing off the ground.
“I don’t know about all of you…” Kendrick steps in, “But I’m starving. Should we get something to eat?”
Before anyone else gets a word in, Hrithika lets out a loud growling, “God, yes.”
“Right then, let’s get some food.” Joffrey decides, and as we start to walk away, he looks over his shoulder, “You’re welcome to join us, Emil. It’s on us.”
“Th-Thank you, sir.” Emil bows and falls in line behind the group. I notice that he keeps his distance and I slip back from the others to walk with him. Silven and Quentin see this and do the same.
“So,” I start, “How old are you?”
“I’m nineteen.”
Silven goes next, “How long have you been shooting bows?”
“I picked my first bow up at ten. I couldn’t hit a target until after I turned twelve though.”
“Wow so you’ve been shooting for almost ten years?”
“Yes, what about you?” He looks inquisitively at Silven.
“Well, I’ve only shot for a little over three years.”
“Wait, you mean to tell me that you beat me and only have a third of my experience?” His tone comes across as a mix of impressed and anguished. He mutters almost to himself, “Wow, you really should challenge Araceli, that would definitely be something to see.”
I speak up again, “Emil, I was wondering something while watching your match.”
“Okay, what is it?” He turns his head.
“Do you have a Specialty?”
“Uhm… like what do I do for work?”
Silven explains, “Specialties are what our people call special abilities, magic, gifts, or whatever else people call them.”
“Oh! Yes, I do have an ability. I can elementally enchant my projectiles.” He bends over and picks up a small pebble and rolls it in his hand as a slimy goo secretes from his palm, somehow sticking only to the rock leaving his hand dry and clean. He tosses it at a nearby torch pole and the rock splats, sticking in place. “I obviously can enchant with more dangerous elements but this is hardly the place to do that.”
Silven, Quentin and I gather around the pole gazing at the rock with a simultaneous drawn out, “Whoa,” and I see gears turning in Silven's head, but decide to let it be.
Kendrick finds a stall with large roasted meats and gets enough for everybody, and we find a place to sit and enjoy the meal. Part way through we hear a familiar voice and turn to see Quentin’s mother pulling an empty cart.
“Quentin! What have I told you about running off like that.” She looks around and recognizes Joffrey and I from earlier. “Oh, hello. I see why he slipped away now. He loves finding other kids around his age.”
Joffrey stands up and extends his hand, “Hello, my name is Joffrey, the one I was with earlier is Salem. And we have Silven, Emil, Kendrick, Hrithika, and Oswin.” He says as he gestures to each of them, the adults busy stuffing their mouths full of food. “Please,” he motions to an empty chair, “Join us, Silven just won a Noble meal ticket.”
“Oh, are you sure? I would hate to impose. We have to leave soon if we want to make it home before dark.”
“Absolutely, it is no problem. Where do you live from here?”
“To the northeast, about a two hour walk from here.”
Emil’s head perks up and he looks over at the two, drawing their attention, “I also live to the northeast.”
Joffrey, almost delighted at this new info, turns back without addressing anyone and boasts, “Maybe we could walk you there.”
“N-No, th-that is far too generous of you, I couldn't possi-”
“Truly, it's not an issue. Now come, sit. What's your name?”
“C-Caralina.” She hesitantly lowers herself down next to Quentin and gingerly pokes at the smallest pieces of meat on the table. Joffrey notices and asks what she wants, fixing up a good helping for her.
“Mom! Silven and Emil are really good archers. They were the best two in the competition.”
“Oh, wow! That's exciting.” She takes a moment of looking around the table before speaking again, “So I take it you all are travelers then?”
“Something like that,” Joffrey responds, “It’s a long story, maybe on the walk we can tell you about it.”
“Well… alright, talking would help pass the time rather quickly.”
Quentin, Silven and I turn to each other with lit-up expressions, excited that we have more people our age around.
Silven looks at Emil with an inquisitive face, “Hey, so… where did you get that wood for your bow? It's made of Elderwood, right?”
“Yes it is, good eye. Elderwood can only be obtained by receiving a blessing from a Colossal Floran.”
Silven and I stare blankly at Emil for a minute, before Silven asks, “Uh, what’s a Colossal Floran?”
“Massive plants with their own consciousness.”
“I’ve never heard of them before.”
Emil looks shocked to learn this, as his eyebrows shot up while his mouth hung open, “Never? Where did you come from that you haven’t heard of them?”
“The kingdom in the forest,” Silven states matter-of-factly.
Emil freezes, his eyes wide as the partially eaten chunk of meat falls from his hand. He snaps to and acts as if he didn’t hear Silven, uttering quietly, “I’m sorry, where did you say?”
Silven, taken aback by his strange body language response, hesitantly says, “The uh… The kingdom in the forest?”
Emil’s eyes flicker around the table, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
I gently nudge his arm, his eyes snap to me, locking in like a panicked deer. I ask gingerly, “Is everything okay?”
He tunes back in, realizing his expression and swallows dryly. Taking a deep breath, he nods and simply says, “There are some horrible legends about those woods. I can’t remember much… but, they say there lives an old witch, and something about people… disappearing? People would often enter those woods and would never be seen again. They, uh…” he furrows his brow, narrowing his eyes as he tries to find words. After a moment, he shrugs, “That's about all I know, Araceli can possibly explain better when we get there.”
“Well… we made it through the forest,” Silven boasts, “Although we were attacked…”
“By what?”
“We named the Stalkers… They’re large shadowy-black beasts, easily ten-feet tall, and can track someone for miles.”
“I don’t know if I’ve seen such a thing.”
As Silven tells Emil about those nights, flashes of that family run through my mind. I turn to the other end of the table, trying hard to ignore the story, as Silven tries to pry more information out of Emil.
Joffrey turns to Caralina, “How big is the village you come from?”
“Oh, we’ve only got around eighty of us. It’s quaint, and we get by well.”
“That sounds lovely. I hope one day we can stop through.”
She smiles, “That would be wonderful.”
As my focus on their conversation fades, I look around the table hazily before my eyes land on Oswin, staring directly into my eyes, mouthing in my direction. Slowly, I draw my attention together enough to hear him utter the words, “We need to talk. Soon.” I nod, and try to stomach what I can.
Some time goes by and everyone is sat back groaning after the largest meal any of us have had in weeks. Kendrick and Oswin are rubbing their bellies, satisfied with the food.
“Well!” Joffrey exclaims, slapping his hands on his knees and pushing himself up, “I think with that we should start making our way out. I just have to go see Marianne quickly before we leave.”
Silven and I nudge each other, letting out a simultaneous lilting “Ooh” which causes Joffrey's face to redden as he looks back at us.
“You two, hush. It's not like that.” He says with a spin and quickly starts walking away, “I'll be back in five minutes at most. Let's meet at the gate.”
“Don’t take too long,” Oswin hollers after him, everyone else standing and gathering their belongings. Emil walks over to Caralina, offering to draw the cart to which she happily agrees. We make our way to the exit and wait, Joffrey showing up just a minute or so after. By this time, the sun is nearly cresting the horizon.
“Ready?” Oswin asks.
“Yeah, let's get moving.”