Abrial blinked disorientedly. There was a man in front of her, holding out a small handax. Abrial reached out and took it, turning it over with wonder. Its glint was steely, and it laid heavily in her palms.
"Coooooool! Nice cutting-thingy! Well-made. What am I supposed to do with this?"
The man laughed, uncertain whether Abrial was joking or not. "Um…Just what was announced before, Miss? You need to throw it at the target as best as you can. At the middle."
Abrial's eyes lit up. "Oh! Fun. Very fun. He he he! Where's this middle of the target?"
"Um…Straight in front of you?"
"Ah! Gotcha! I see it, right there! Watch this, old grinning man!" she hollered, winking at the smug middle-aged man from before. She gripped the wooden ax handle firmly with both hands. Then she closed her eyes as Instructor Wei had taught her to do before any intense training session, breathing in deeply from her abdomen. Fresh air filled her lungs. A momentary clarity came over her.
Her eyes shot open.
She whirled around and hurled the ax. Like a dart, it flew towards the target with a clear path, almost as if it had been magnetized.
Thump.
The crowd rippled with gasps.
"No way!" someone called out. "She was completely drunk before! How did she hit the bulls-eye in that state?"
It had seemed unfathomable to everyone watching a moment ago, but it was undeniable now: Abrial's ax had sunk almost up to the handle into the wooden target's center. Her throw had been as precise as the needle of a surgeon, and powerful as an ocean wave in a storm.
"Ridiculous!" exploded the once-smug middle-aged man. His grin had vanished, replaced with a twisted expression of fury. He stabbed a thick finger at Abrial. "She must've been pretending to be drunk! How could she make such a throw in her condition?! A poser!"
"A ha ha! A ha he!" Abrial's drunken laughter was so loud that everyone in the courtyard could hear it. She pointed at that no-longer-smug man, holding her stomach as she howled: "I really did wipe the smile off his face! A ha ha! Squeak, squeak! That's much better!"
"Well…" someone in the crowd remarked doubtfully. "She definitely seems drunk."
"Perhaps she's just that good?"
"Maybe she's very skilled with blades. After all, that couldn't have been an accident!"
"It was quite impressive."
"Impressive, indeed!"
Slowly at first, then in an explosion, the crowd burst into applause and cheering.
"What a woman of great strength!"
"What a mysterious lady!"
"My son ought to marry someone like her, who can get things done! She's remarkably beautiful, too!"
Abrial, totally drunk, grinned crookedly up at all of the clapping people. Their applause sounded like many reeds snapping in the wind of the paradise garden, which made her already roiling stomach lurch.
"Miss…The second ax?"
"Mm? Another one? Nice!" She swiped it from the male overseer, tossing it in the air like an apple. She caught it precariously on the way down, twirling it between her fingers in the way she liked to twirl her dagger.
This time, she didn't need to be told what to do. The feel of the wooden handle in her fist was comforting and familiar, and she turned towards the second target. Her eyes were focused.
Instructor Wei had given her a wooden-handled sword once, when she was new to blade fighting. His face materialized in her mind. His features were slightly foggy, and yet his dark eyes were clear and twinkling, his smile soft beneath them.
Trust the movements of your body. It will carry you where you need to be.
He had placed his big hand over hers, guiding it to move the little sword in an arc.
Yes, like this. Feel the power flow through your muscles, and lean into it. You are powerful, Abrial. You only need to listen to yourself.
Abrial closed her eyes. A small smile flitted over her face.
Her eyes shot open.
With a flick of her arm, she hurled the ax.
Fwump.