The Faeyrwynn Prophecy

The Faeyrwynn Prophecy: Chapter Thirteen

A/N: I apologize in advance for the weird formatting, some paragraphs need to be adjusted for the indent. Anyways, hope you enjoy the early upload! Was struck by inspiration, and didn't want to wait.

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I continued to practice my magic, sometimes under Ash’s instruction and other times on my own in my room. Ashalyn taught me how to grow various plants, among other things.

I wondered at times how this would help me in a fight, my thoughts straying to that moment in the forest. It became obvious that Meila was avoiding me after not seeing her for several days. Cyr only said that she was off doing her own thing, but I could tell her absence bothered him too.

Even though my magic lessons were moving slowly, Ashalyn held nothing back when teaching me to fight. She was fiery and quick, a dancing flame ready to burn you if you didn’t watch your step.

We spent hours sparring back and forth, trading wooden training swords for gleaming steel. After losing to a few times in a row one day, she’d (grudgingly) announced that I’d mastered the art.

“Wipe that stupid grin off your face, there are still plenty in the ranks that could slice you to ribbons,” she muttered.

“What grin?” I joked, failing to contain my proud smile.

She shoved me playfully, putting away her sword on the rack to my right.

“I suppose I’ll have to teach you how to use other weapons then,” she sighed.

“Get some rest tonight and meet me at the barn in the morning.”

            “Will do,” I replied, making my way back to my room.

~

            “Am I doing this right?” I asked, holding the bow awkwardly.  My arms refused to remain balanced and even. Squinting down the end of the arrow with my good eye, I tried to aim at the target a few yards away.

            “Uh, not quite,” Ashalyn replied. “Keep your hands in line and lower the bow down a little bit.”

            I did as I was told, and the string snapped forward, releasing the arrow in a pathetic arc before it planted itself in the dirt. Thankfully Cyr hadn’t come this morning, or else I’d never hear the end of it.

            I winced, taking the walk of shame to retrieve the poor arrow. As I bent down to pull it out of the ground, a blast of cold air whooshed across by back. A second later, I heard a solid thud. I looked up, confused. Embedded in the very center of the target was a slender, silver arrow.

            I looked behind me, smiling slowly as I recognized the shooter.

“I’ll take it from here,” Meila said coldly, her lips curling slightly to form a half smile. She wore a simple black dress, leggings and black leather boots. A silver quiver of arrows were slung around her shoulder, several knives were tucked into the belt of the dress.

            “Alrighty, then,” Ash said quietly, looking back at me. She walked off, disappearing after a few steps without another word.

            I returned the arrow to Meila, wondering why she chose to take over.

“Now stand like this,” she instructed, demonstrating the proper stance. I mimicked her, standing by her side.

            “It’s important to keep your back straight, do not lean or buckle your knees,” she continued. She broke her stance to correct mine.