Chereads / Legacy Cycle / Chapter 2 - Of Arrows and Bolts

Chapter 2 - Of Arrows and Bolts

Somewhere deep in the Fay'run forest, the first rays of sunlight began to break through the canopy of ancient trees. The morning was cool, and the boy's breath rose in small puffs of smoke into the clear air.

The forest slowly awakened, accompanied by the gentle chirping of birds and the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. In the midst of this silence stood a boy, dressed in a brown tunic, boots and a woolly hat to keep him warm on this crisp morning. This was rather unusual, as the elves often wore long robes, not to mention some sort of hat. But the boy wasn't an elf either.

He was a human, and he had knitted the hat himself. He had been collecting the wool for months, from the lost furs that got caught on branches or were left behind by the mystical animals of the forest when they changed their fur. As a result, the hat looked as if it had been knitted with many different fabrics and techniques.

His skin was slightly tanned and a few strands of black hair peeked out from under the woolly hat. His face was slowly losing its childish fatness and the features of a young man were emerging. His brown eyes were fixed on the rays of sunlight shining through the canopy of leaves, in which the morning dew sparkled like tiny crystals.

A backpack hung from his back, folded from branches and loops - one of the first things he had ever made. His name was Kadar Caelith, and according to his father, he was of the House of Elves - though he was actually human.

The last human on the Northshard he suspected.

Kadar was here early this morning for a reason. He was waiting for someone.

A twig broke. Kadar turned. A slender figure moved between the trunks of the ancient trees with the ease of a stag. Her coppery complexion glowed in the first rays of sunlight, her golden-brown hair falling over her shoulders in a long, carefully tied braid. At the end of the braid was a white flower, carefully tucked into her hair. Yellow eyes - rare even among elves - shimmered like liquid gold as she looked at him.

It was Mayiawiel, one of only two elves in all of Fay'Run Forest who even knew of Kadar's existence - his father had seen to it that he remained hidden. The others wouldn't understand, his father had always said, but Kadar didn't understand what he had to do with the actions of House he had never been a part of.

The young elf stepped out of the shadows and smiled, a warm, familiar smile. He had known her for years.

"Good morning, Kadar," she said lightly, her hands relaxed at her sides.

"Good morning, Mayiawiel," he replied.

The smile faded. She stopped, folded her arms across her chest and raised her eyebrows.

Kadar sighed and cleared his throat.

"Mayia," he finally corrected himself.

That was enough. The smile returned, this time with a small twinkle in her eyes. She stepped closer to him and calmly tossed her braid over her shoulder so that it now fell next to her chest. She looked at him expectantly.

Or so Kadar thought. She definitely wanted something from him, the way she was looking at him. Was it the flower?

'It must be the flower.'

She wanted him to guess what kind of flower it was!

She was still staring at him, smiling and playing a little with her braid. Kadar's eyes were fixed on her.

'Another one of her tests,' he thought, but tried harder.

She often made such tests. And every time he failed, she was suddenly in a bad mood - so he couldn't fail now, no matter how boring it was.

Was that Crownpiercer? Or was it more like a long-snout gooseflower? No, perhaps a twin species...

'Ah, I don't know!'

There were so many thousands and thousands of species of flowers in this forest, you'd have to have the lifespan of ten elves to have seen them all.

Mayiawiel's smile slowly faded. Now he had to answer.

"It's a Crownpiercer!" he said finally. The first option was usually the easiest.

But apparently also the wrong one, for Mayiawiel blinked in confusion for a moment. Then she looked at the flower and then at Kadar.

That had obviously been the wrong answer.

"Hmm... I guess half a victory, I suppose?" the elf suddenly muttered to herself.

"Excuse me?"

She shook her head, sighed, but then smiled again. With a fluid movement, she pulled the long, intricately crafted elven bow from her back.

"Ready?" she asked, a little defiantly, looking at him with a mischievous grin.

For the moment, that smile was still at eye level. She was about as tall as Kadar. He had caught up with her a year ago - but he knew that she would continue to grow, while he would soon stop, or had already stopped. In a few years she'd probably be a head taller than him, just like any other elf.

"Always," Kadar said, a hint of a smile crossing his face.

Mayiawiel tilted her head slightly.

"You almost seem pleased."

Kadar frowned. How had she known that?

"Yes... There is something I wanted to show you today."

Mayiawiel's eyes lit up, as they always did when Kadar showed her one of his new creations. Even though they weren't his own ideas, just copies of what he found in the Book of Humans in Father's drawer, Mayiawiel made him feel like an explorer every time.

"What is it? Show it to me! Please!"

She came close to him. He was a little embarrassed. She was so excited about it, urging him to show it to her. But he was grateful to have an audience. Then he didn't feel quite so excluded.

He grinned and shook his head.

"Afterwards. First, we'll compete in archery again."

Mayiawiel looked a little disappointed for a moment, but she raised her bow anyway and grinned.

"Really? I've never lost before."

"You say that, but you let yourself be challenged again and again." Kadar replied.

She raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Because I know I would never lose."

Kadar didn't know if all elves were as good at archery as Mayiawiel, but if they were, he understood why the House of Humans had lost the war. Mayiawiel had probably not missed a single arrow in all those years... if they had played by the normal rules.

"Then I have a special rule for us today," he said with a grin, pointing to a tree in the distance.

Mayiawiel followed his gaze.

"We'll shoot three arrows as usual - but I'll make a special condition before the last arrow."

Mayiawiel thought for a moment, then nodded enthusiastically. She didn't even need to ask what the condition was, she was so sure of victory. But Kadar had never envied that quality in her... a little, admittedly, but it had spurred him on much more.

Mayiawiel held out the bow and said:

"You first."

He refused.

"No, today you start, please."

She drew back the bow slowly, but then shrugged. Then she stood upright, took an arrow from the quiver and set it down. But before she drew the bow, she turned back to Kadar.

"Where?"

"In the middle, where the bark has some moss."

Not even a second passed before the bow was drawn and the arrow shot whistling through the air. It hit the target.

Kadar was not surprised. Of course, he knew Mayiawiel would hit the mark. Still, he had to be inwardly in praise of her performance. Again and again. It was simply impressive how effortlessly she placed her arrows.

"Hmmm? How was I?" he suddenly heard next to him and immediately swallowed his praise.

No, she was spoiled enough already.

"My turn," he said curtly, taking the bow Mayiawiel held out to him with a smile.

He didn't have a bow of his own. He'd tried to make one several times, but he just couldn't replicate the elven craftsmanship, no matter how hard he tried. Fortunately, Mayiawiel had been kind enough to lend him hers during their little competitions.

He drew the bow, a little clumsily, but he had practised enough not to embarrass himself. He raised it, took aim and held his breath. His arms shook slightly, but he managed to let the arrow fly cleanly.

The arrow entered the tree - about a cubit away from Mayiawiel's arrow. Not a bad shot. Kadar grunted with satisfaction.

"Ohh, you've been practicing without me!" Mayiawiel gave him a look that looked as cheeky as it was pleased.

"I haven't. Your turn," Kadar said calmly, taking a step back.

Before Kadar could blink, Mayiawiel lifted the bow, pulled the string and fired. The arrow flew through the air like lightning and landed right next to her previous one. Kadar stared at the bark of the tree, now scarred by two perfect hits.

He grunted softly, picked up the bow again and tried again. But this time he wobbled a little as he aimed. The arrow shot out, tumbled slightly and landed just inside the tree - right on the edge. Kadar grimaced.

A giggle sounded next to him.

'Just wait,' he thought with a grin as he returned the bow.

He had something ready for the third arrow. He walked to the tree where he had prepared something last night. At the foot of an old oak tree lay a large and thick piece of bark, as wide and tall as he was. He picked it up and leaned it against the tree they had been shooting at, so that the whole trunk was covered.

He turned and walked back to Mayiawiel, who looked at him in confusion.

"This is my condition," he explained, crossing his arms, a slight grin on his lips.

"The next arrow has to hit the tree behind the bark. But oh no, you're probably thinking! The whole tree is covered, how am I supposed to do that? Looks like my defeat is finally-"

A song interrupted him.

Mayiawiel drew her bow, her lips moving in unison with a beautiful melody that almost made Kadar's tongue stick in his throat. Her high, clear voice filled the clearing.

Then he realised what she was doing.

"Hey, that's not fair!" he shouted.

But it was too late. The arrow flew away, accompanied by her song. A gust of wind blew past Kadar and the arrow began to turn in mid-flight. Against all logic, it changed direction, made a turn - and hit the free side of the tree.

Mayiawiel's song fell silent. Kadar gazed at the tree, dead-eyed. Of course. Why hadn't he seen it coming? Elven magic.

A laugh made him whirl around.

"Your face! I can't take it anymore!" Mayiawiel put her hand to her mouth, but her laughter was hard to suppress.

She held the bow out to him with a grin.

"Here. Or do you give up?"

Kadar stared at the bow. What she had just done was to cast elven nature magic. His father had told him about it for years, tried to show him how to access it. But he couldn't, no matter how hard he tried.

It was frustrating. The Song of the Mothertree would never reach him, for he was not her child.

But he wouldn't have made that condition if he hadn't been prepared. Instead of picking up the bow, he put down his backpack and opened it up.

Mayiawiel bent over in curiosity.

"What is this?" she asked as Kadar produced his latest creation.

"The humans called it a crossbow," he said with a hint of pride.

He held up the crossbow, an oddly shaped piece of wood and metal that he had stolen from his father.

"I saw it in a book of the humans," he began to explain enthusiastically.

"It was just a sketch, so I had to figure out how it worked myself. At first I thought the string should be made of leather, but that was far too heavy. Then I..."

He fell silent when he realised he was rambling. Kadar cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Mayiawiel looked at him with bright eyes.

Kadar had to grin. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

"Watch," he said, taking an arrow and cocking the crossbow.

The string was tight and it took some effort.

"Do you have to do that every time?" Mayiawiel laughed as he finally snapped the string into place with sweaty hands.

"I'll have to think of something else," he muttered.

He raised the crossbow, took aim and heard Mayiawiel's voice:

"If I win, you owe me."

"Why is that?"

"You also set a condition."

Kadar shrugged, concentrated and pulled the trigger.

The arrow shot through the bark with incredible force - and shattered on the tree behind it.

Kadar's eyes widened.

"What?"

Mayiawiel smiled wryly.

"Well, you hit the tree, but the arrow..."

Kadar sighed.

"It's not strong enough, I guess. The crossbow is much stronger than a bow. I hadn't thought of that."

Mayiawiel's mischievous smile remained unchanged as Kadar picked up the broken arrow. He examined the damaged shaft, turned it in his hands and finally shook his head. 

"I'll probably have to use stronger wood. Maybe shorten the shaft a little..." he muttered, more to himself than to Mayiawiel. 

But she was no longer concentrating. She slung the bow over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips.

"Now that I've won," she began, "you owe me something." 

Kadar raised an eyebrow and tossed the arrow aside. Mayiawiel glared at him, so he slowly picked up the arrow and put it inside his backpack.

"That wasn't really a victory. You used elven magic." 

Mayiawiel blinked innocently.

"I didn't break any rules. Besides, it was your idea to set a condition." 

"I didn't set a condition so you could cheat with magic," he retorted. 

"Cheat?" Mayiawiel's voice sounded playfully offended and she crossed her arms over her chest.

"I'm an elf. It's not magic, it's art." 

Kadar rolled his eyes.

"What do you want?" 

Mayiawiel grinned and tilted her head slightly, a gesture Kadar always found irritating because it won her every argument.

"I want you to accompany me to the Festival of Peace tomorrow." 

He blinked.

"What? No." 

Her grin disappeared. She dropped her arms and looked at him with a look of disappointment that seemed to be more than she might have intended it to be.

"Why not?" 

"Because..." He hesitated, averted his eyes and pulled his backpack back towards him.

"Father won't allow it. I can't be seen..." 

"We'll dress you up," she cut him off, her voice soft and almost vulnerable now.

"It's the Festival of Peace. I... really want to go with you, just once." 

He slowly turned to face her. Her gaze was serious, without the usual teasing twinkle. And that hit him harder than he'd expected. 

"Well, if you don't want to," she added quickly, "then... then I understand, of course."

She looked away, but Kadar could see that she didn't really believe he would refuse. 

He had been forbidden to go to the Festival in the elven capital for as long as he could remember.

He stared into her yellow eyes for a moment, then sighed and hunched his shoulders.

"I... would like to leave this clearing too, but I'll have to ask Father," he murmured.

The Festival of Peace. The festival that celebrated the downfall of the humans.

'What a joke.'