"Please, please, please," Olivia uttered. The ball of fire catapulted into what seemed like an endless horizon. Even with the glowing spear, not much could be seen by the naked eye.
By that time, everyone was standing. They weren't expecting Maxen to shoot the arrow right after King Alistair shot his, and everyone was on the edge at how things would turn out.
Oliver looked at his friend whom he called brother and shook his head.
One-strike.
One strike was all Maxen needed and was known for, for he loved taking the first chance he could get and winging the consequences after.
This time, however, Oliver felt as if Maxen should have waited a bit more before releasing the string, just to be sure he was aiming as close as possible to the pit.
Glancing back into the darkness of the lake, Oliver closed his eyes when it didn't take long for the arrow to dart above the tranquil lake and graced them with a dancing flame of red and orange.
