[Complete] Eroh has reached his seventeenth spring and has finally become a man. With manhood comes a gift: marriage to the woman he loves. But when a strange new woman from another world enters his life, he is stuck with the decision to honor his...
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Night would be upon us soon, and I felt my manhood slipping away with the falling sun.
I stood at the end of the dock, scanning, watching for ripples in the surface. In my hands, I held the black bow and fairy-winged arrow down in standby position. I was crouched, back arched, neck locked and head forward. There was nothing I'd miss, not while I was this focused. All it took was a splash or a shadow beneath the surface to draw my aim and fire. But today, the loch was quiet ... like something spooked even the largest of fish. But what?
Sunlight sat on the surface, giving the illusion that the water was as gold as gold. As it sunk behind the hills, it became a red orb, painting the skies a vibrant crimson that the lake mirrored. I squinted against the hue; the light challenging my gaze. I'd go blind before I'd turn away. A lack of concentration, or shift in my eyes was all it took to miss my shot.
Behind me, father's breath was silent, creating a cloud on each exhale. He trained his lungs for the hunt. To breathe without disruption. And trained his body for the long stand; statued for near an hour, watching with an intensity that'd drive any animal away who saw him first. But that would never happen. Even with his size, father became one with his surroundings. Invisible to even the sharpest of minds.
My eyes flicked to a ring expanding on the surface. It was enough for me to draw the string taut and take aim northward. I closed my left eye while the right adjusted, peering down the shaft, using the arrowhead to mark my trajectory.
"You've made your first mistake," father whispered, maintaining still as a rooted tree. "You've engaged without a target ... now you must hold strong or our patience was for not."
I knew he was right. The ripple could've been a bug off the water. We hadn't seen a scale all day. If we were to gain the loch's trust, we needed to appear a part of it. But my untimely movement gave away the position we established.
From my legs to my arms, I trembled. A day of riding, standing, and waiting brought a sharp soreness to my frame. And the pressure of being engaged only intensified my screaming muscles. Where were the fish? Why were they hiding? Time is running out ...
"I can't ... hold it ... much longer," I said through clenched teeth. My muscles burned and felt ready to snap like bowstrings. "I must disengage-"
"No, my son." Father's tone was low yet powerful. A voice earned from years of leadership. "I feel the sacred fish will be upon us soon."
"I hope, for my sake, you're correct."
Moisture wet my armpits, leaving my brown tunic wet and black. My mother recently washed it and already the back and chest were moist and stunk of boy sweat. She would likely give me an earful when I got home, unless the hunt was a success.
My eyes shifted fifty paces away from the dock. A blur swam twenty legs, reflecting turquoise light back into my eyes. "Father ... there," I whispered.
