Destiny or Desire

Part 1: Evening in Eversong

Zaryinor drew back his arrow, faintly aware of his thumb brushing his jawline. He felt the tension in the bow as the string was pulled, awaiting to be loosened like a viper striking its prey. He exhaled to concentrate, keeping his arms from trembling with his fear and excitement. His eyes locked onto the masculine elf standing ahead, and despite the grim determination painted across this elf's face, Zaryinor felt a playful grin stretch across his own.

The wink and easy smile the elf standing ahead offered eased most of Zaryinor's fear and discouragement. He carefully shifted his booted feet against the dew-dappled grass. The evening breeze caressed his golden hair and the forest around him seemed to hum and glow with the identical colors of a sunset. Leaves drifted past; red, golden, brown, and green.

"If you don't get this one, we'll try again. I haven't been training you long enough, so don't feel bad. Trust me, your brother never got it until he was many moons older than you are now," Zaryinor's father promised, tossing multiple sacks into the air. The sacks were filled with rice, blanketed with a light linen covering that was easy for an arrowhead to penetrate.

"Yes, Ann'da," Zaryinor said, refusing to allow exhaustion to render his aim. If he was going to become a Ranger like his father and brother, he had to pace himself through his tired limitations to accomplish his dreams. He wasn't going to let his younger frame identify his bowmanship. He was going to be a Ranger, and would make sure of it.

"Ready?" Zaryinor's father asked, swiping aside his own golden locks.

Zaryinor had definitely inherited his sun-colored hair from his father, and he was always told it completed his bright personality. He was proud of it, knowing his wavy and golden hair was what identified the Dawntreader family. It was a long line of fierce but noble Rangers, all with hair as strikingly brilliant as the day's heavenly glow.

"Yes, Ann'da," Zaryinor repeated, feeling his tongue instinctively poke out of the corner of his mouth through his concentration. His keen and brilliant blue eyes fixated upon the sack balanced in the palm of his father's hand, and time seemed to slow. The leaves that drifted past grew lazy and surreal in their languid dance, and the nearby trickling of a stream hummed in sync to the breath Zaryinor released. He was young, but he knew this feeling.

It was predator's precision, the sign of him advancing.

He watched as his father tossed the pouch into the air and he waited. He waited until he felt the buzzing of anticipation ripple through him, his excited grin remaining plastered across his face. He released the arrow when he felt the thrilling hum reach his arm. His fingers brushed the fletchings, and Zaryinor watched triumphantly as his arrow penetrated the pouch and pinned it to a nearby tree. Rice spilled to the floor from the shredded sack.

"You did it!" the young elf's father exclaimed, rushing toward Zaryinor and scooping him in a hug.

Zaryinor grinned triumphantly as his Ann'da tousled his hair, his father's next words singing through his soul as though his heart were a harp that strummed music. He was proud, proud he could make a worthy successor for his father, as much as his brother was.

"You're going to be just as great of a Ranger as I."

Zaryinor lifted his head toward the older elf, grinning genuinely with childish excitement as he asked, "You really think so?"

"I know so," his father promised. He rose to his finely golden laced boots, gesturing toward the arrow penetrated in the tree, "Now, go retrieve your arrow. We shan't leave it wasting away there."

Zaryinor nodded quickly and energetically. He hopped to his feet and raced over to the tree while carefully pressing his hand against the white bark. He tugged the arrow out with his other, sprinting back over to his father. He could barely contain his delight, wanting desperately to skip home to his mother and brother and tell them of his impressive feat.