The early morning sun continued to climb in the sky, casting a warm glow over the training grounds as Aelion and the other recruits approached their lines. The air was thick with anticipation, the soft rustling of leaves in the nearby trees the only sound as they waited for their first instructions.

Aelion shifted his weight, his eyes flicking toward the targets set up at the far end of the field. They stood about fifty paces away, arranged in neat rows, each one marked with colorful rings that gleamed in the sunlight. The targets were still for now, but Aelion could see the mechanisms set up behind them, pulley systems that would eventually move the targets to test their accuracy against moving objects.

He felt the familiar weight of his bow in his hands, but today, he wasn’t allowed to use it. Instead, each recruit had been given a standard guild-issued bow and a quiver filled with simple, straight-shafted arrows. It was a level playing field, designed to test their skills without the advantage of custom equipment.

Standing next to him was Renar, his broad shoulders tense and his expression cold as he stared straight ahead. Aelion glanced at him, hoping for a brief moment of acknowledgment, but when their eyes met, Renar merely huffed, his lips curling into something like a sneer. Aelion felt a surge of frustration rise in his chest but said nothing, choosing instead to focus on the task ahead.

On the far end of the line stood Caidren, the blond-haired boy from Moonglade, adjusting his stance with a wide grin. His bow was already in hand, and he flashed a confident smile to no one in particular. Selara and Illirya stood between them, both focused and calm, their expressions serious as they prepared for the first round.

Ahead of them, the instructor paced slowly along the line, his eyes sharp and assessing as he sized up each of the recruits. When he reached the center, he stopped and raised his hand, signaling the start of the first round.

“The first test will be a simple one,” he began, his voice loud and clear. “Still targets. You will each have five arrows. Take your time, aim carefully, and strike as close to the center as possible. Accuracy is everything.”

He gestured toward the rows of targets down the field. “Take your positions. When you are ready, you may begin.”

Aelion took a deep breath and moved forward, stepping up to his assigned line. The bow felt familiar enough in his hands, but the weight of the moment added an unfamiliar tension to his muscles. This was the first real test, the first chance to prove himself among the other recruits. He couldn’t afford to fail.

Beside him, Renar was already preparing his first shot, his movements fluid and precise. Aelion watched out of the corner of his eye, noting the way Renar held the bow with steady hands, his focus sharp and unshaken. There was a confidence to him that bordered on arrogance, but it was clear that Renar knew what he was doing.

Aelion turned his attention back to his own target. He pulled an arrow from the quiver and nocked it carefully, his fingers brushing the bowstring as he drew it back. The target seemed farther away than it had just moments ago, but he forced himself to calm his nerves, steadying his breath.

Focus. Just breathe.

He released the arrow.

It sailed through the air with a soft whistle, striking the target just inside the outer ring. Not the best shot, but not terrible either. Aelion frowned, already analyzing the angle of the shot in his mind. He could do better.

Beside him, Renar loosed his arrow, and Aelion heard the solid thunk of it striking near the center of the target. He glanced over, his frustration growing when he saw Renar’s perfect placement.

“There’s no way you’re a real archer right? Pathetic.”

Aelion set his jaw and nocked another arrow, determined to focus. He took aim, adjusted his stance slightly, and released. The arrow flew straighter this time, striking closer to the center of the target. He felt a small surge of satisfaction as he reached for his third arrow.

Around him, the other recruits were firing their shots in quick succession. Selara was doing well, her arrows landing consistently within the second ring of the target, while Illirya, though more deliberate with each shot, was finding her rhythm. Caidren, however, was struggling. His first arrow had landed outside the rings altogether, and his second hadn’t fared much better. His usual cocky grin was gone, replaced with a look of growing frustration.

Aelion loosed his third arrow, followed by his fourth and fifth. Each shot felt smoother than the last, and though he didn’t hit the center, he was pleased with the improvement. When the final arrow struck the target, he lowered his bow and stepped back, breathing a sigh of relief.

The instructor moved down the line, assessing each recruit’s performance. When he reached Renar, he paused, nodding in approval at the nearly perfect placement of his arrows. Aelion glanced down at his own target, satisfied that he had at least landed all five shots within the rings.

But as the instructor reached Caidren, Aelion could hear the faint murmur of disappointment. Caidren’s arrows were scattered, with only two of the five hitting the outer rings. Caidren scowled, his usual bravado crumbling under the weight of his poor performance.

“No, hear me out, this bow isn’t perfect. There is something wrong with it, see, you gotta believe me!”

The instructor raised his hand once more, signaling the end of the first round. “Good. Now, we move on to the second round. This will be more difficult. The targets will be moving, simulating an airborne target. You will each have five arrows again. Be mindful of your timing and aim.”

Aelion swallowed, feeling the pressure build again. Moving targets were always harder, but he had practiced enough to know how to adjust. He only hoped his nerves wouldn’t get the better of him.

The instructor stepped aside, and with a flick of his hand, the mechanisms behind the targets began to hum to life. The pulley systems whirred, and the targets, now attached to ropes and levers, began to move slowly back and forth across the field. Their motion was smooth at first, but as the round progressed, Aelion knew the pace would quicken.

He adjusted his stance, nocking his first arrow as he tracked the movement of the target. It was erratic, moving left, then right, then pausing briefly before changing direction again. Aelion narrowed his eyes, trying to predict the next move.

He exhaled slowly and released the arrow.

It flew toward the target, but the moment it left the bow, the target shifted. The arrow glanced off the edge of the second ring and sailed past. Aelion cursed under his breath, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it. He quickly grabbed another arrow, determined not to repeat the mistake.

Beside him, Renar was already drawing his bow, his eyes locked on the moving target with deadly focus. Aelion could see the concentration etched into his features, the way his entire body seemed to move in harmony with the bow. When Renar released his arrow, it struck the target cleanly in the second ring, and he barely reacted, moving on to his next shot with calm efficiency.

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Renar chuckled, glancing at Aelion as he prepared his second shot. “You won’t get anywhere watching me, get on it with it.”

Aelion bit back a retort and drew another arrow, this time taking an extra moment to predict the target’s movement. He loosed the arrow just as it began to shift again, and this time, the arrow struck true, right in the second ring. It wasn’t perfect, but it was an improvement, at least it matched Renar’s first shot.

All around him, the other recruits were firing their arrows. Selara remained steady, her arrows consistently hitting the target, though none reached the center. Illirya struggled with the moving targets, her arrows missing more often than hitting, though she seemed determined to improve. And then there was Caidren, who was faring even worse than before. His arrows were wildly off target, and his frustration was becoming more and more apparent with each miss.

“The bows here suck, they’re made way better in Moonglade. Why did I have to come here to train? This city lacks proper etiquette, I swear.”

Aelion focused on his final shot. The target moved faster now, swinging unpredictably across the field. He watched its pattern, waiting for the right moment. He nocked the arrow, drew the bowstring back, and released.

The arrow flew straight, cutting through the air with a soft whistle. It struck the target in the third ring, not his best shot, but not his worst either. He let out a breath, feeling a mix of relief and frustration.

When the final arrow was loosed, the instructor called an end to the second round.

The recruits stood in a line as the instructor walked slowly down the field, examining the results. His expression was unreadable as he assessed each target, his eyes lingering on the placement of each arrow. When he reached Renar’s target, he paused for a long moment, then nodded in approval. Four of Renar’s five arrows had struck the second ring, with one even touching the edge of the center.

Renar reacted with a slight nod of his head, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he looked at the others.

The instructor continued down the line, stopping at Aelion’s target next. His arrows were scattered across the second and third rings, solid, but not spectacular. Aelion felt a wave of mixed emotions wash over him. He had done well, but he knew he could have done better.

When the instructor reached Caidren’s target, there was no hiding the disappointment in his expression. Caidren’s arrows were scattered wildly, with only one hitting the outer ring. Caidren crossed his arms over his chest, his usual cocky grin replaced by a scowl.

Once the instructor finished his assessment, he stepped back in front of the recruits and addressed them.

“Renar scored the highest,” he announced, his voice carrying across the field. “His accuracy was nearly flawless in both rounds. Aelion placed third, with consistent but not perfect shots. Selara is second, Illiyra is fourth. And Caidren... you have much to work on.”

Aelion’s heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of relief and frustration settling over him. He hadn’t done as well as he’d hoped, but at least he hadn’t embarrassed himself. Still, there was a gnawing feeling in his gut, a sense that he needed to push harder if he wanted to keep up with Renar.

“I will practice more today, I will improve myself, sir!” Aelion spoke proudly.

As the recruits stood in silence, the instructor gave them a final nod of approval.

“Rest up,” he said. “This is only the beginning.”

As the instructor dismissed the recruits, the group slowly began to break apart. Illirya and Caidren walked back toward the guild hall, their faces reflecting their mixed emotions, Caidren’s scowl deep with frustration and Illirya seemingly lost in thought. The sound of their footsteps faded as they disappeared inside the building, leaving the training grounds quieter and more still.

Aelion remained in place for a moment, his gaze fixed on the targets down the field. He had done well enough to avoid embarrassment, but the nagging feeling of falling short tugged at him. Third place wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t where he wanted to be. The words of the instructor echoed in his mind. This is only the beginning.

Beside him, Selara stood, her amber eyes scanning the field with a quiet intensity. She hadn’t been the best, but her performance had been solid, steady and focused. There was a calm confidence in the way she handled herself, and Aelion found himself drawn to it. As the others began to leave, Selara turned to him, her expression unreadable for a moment before a small smile touched her lips.

“Seems like the day's just getting started,” she said, her voice low and steady.

Aelion nodded, glancing toward the targets. The day was still young, and there was something about Selara’s tone that suggested she wasn’t quite ready to leave the field just yet.

“Thinking of staying?” Aelion asked, already knowing the answer.

Selara shrugged, the silver beads in her braids catching the light as she did. “I didn’t come all the way from Caelumreach to settle for second place. If you’re up for it, I could use some extra practice.”

Aelion’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I wasn’t planning on leaving just yet.”

The two of them moved back to the training lines, their footsteps soft against the grass. The targets swayed gently in the breeze, and the training grounds felt almost peaceful now that the others had left. Aelion grabbed a fresh set of arrows from the rack and handed a few to Selara. She nodded her thanks, already positioning herself to shoot.

They didn’t speak much as they trained. There was a quiet understanding between them—a shared focus, a desire to improve. Aelion drew his bowstring, aiming carefully at the moving targets. Each shot felt more deliberate now, the pressure of competition gone, allowing him to focus purely on the technique. His arrows flew straighter, finding their mark more often than not, though still shy of perfection.

Selara was no different. Her movements were fluid, practiced, each shot coming with an air of precision. She was faster than him, her arrows flying in quick succession, but each one landed just inside the second ring, consistent but not flawless.

The soft sound of arrows striking wood filled the air, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. The silence was comfortable, the presence of another skilled archer beside Aelion somehow motivating him to push harder.

As they continued to practice, Aelion caught a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly, he saw Renar walking back toward the guild hall, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the grass. He hadn’t left with the others—perhaps lingering for the same reasons Aelion and Selara had. But as Renar reached the entrance to the hall, he paused, turning to look back over his shoulder.

Their eyes met.

There was something cold and calculating in Renar’s gaze, a silent challenge that passed between them in that brief moment. His lips twisted into a faint smirk, but it wasn’t one of friendliness. It was as if Renar was sizing him up, already seeing him as a rival that would either have to be beaten or brushed aside.

Aelion didn’t flinch, meeting Renar’s gaze with quiet determination. He wasn’t sure what the boy’s problem was, but he could feel the tension between them growing, an unspoken rivalry that had begun the moment they stood next to each other in the first round.

Without a word, Renar turned and disappeared into the guild hall, leaving Aelion standing there, the weight of the interaction hanging in the air.

Aelion grunted.

Selara, having noticed Renar’s departure but saying nothing, drew back her bowstring one final time and released. Her arrow flew straight, landing just outside the center ring. She exhaled slowly and lowered her bow, casting a glance at Aelion.

“Well,” she said, brushing a stray braid from her face, “looks like we’ll have some competition.”

Aelion nodded, his eyes still lingering on the spot where Renar had stood moments ago. He could feel the challenge ahead, not just from the targets, but from the people around him. Selara was right, this was only the beginning.

And he had no intention of being left behind.