The Third Great War-Songs of War fanfiction

Amora Mendoris

Third person view

A bird lands gracefully on one of the branches of a tree.

Suddenly, an arrow flies towards it and lands on the block it was perched on. It chirps in alarm, and quickly flies off.

A Mendoris lowers her bow.

' You missed your shot.'

The Mendoris turns around to face another Mendoris. ' I didn't, Ky' Val. You think I'm going to kill an innocent little bird?'

Val walks forward. ' You didn't show up today, Amora.'

' You know me. I don't...exactly like being around many people.'

' I know. But you're always spending time on your own out here. Don't you want to make friends?'

' I prefer being alone.' Amora fires another arrow, which hits another branch, and a bird perched on the branch flies away in a hurry. ' Besides, you mostly teach us how to wield Songs anyway. I don't have any Songs.'

Val sighs. ' It's just, I'm worried about you being out here all on your own.'

' It's afternoon. Undead can't come out in the sunlight.' Amora draws another arrow.

' Still, you don't know what could happen.'

' I can take care of myself.'

Val sighs again, then turns to leave.
' Your parents are wondering where you are.'

' Tell them I'll be back by sundown.' Amora fires the arrow.

Val nods and walks off, leaving Amora there.

/A/N/ Val trains Ardoni to wield Songs, like Galleous once did.

~*~

Amora's p.o.v

I walk back to my room, and hang my bow back on the wall.

I walk over to my fletching table, and start making more arrows for tomorrow. I always fire my arrow to high places, so I can never pick them back up. My arrows stay on the trees until someone picks them up, and they never return them. I don't mind though, fletching arrows is kind of another way to let time pass by.

I make a few arrows rather quickly. I've been doing this since I was young, I can make a couple perfect arrows in a short amount of time.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps behind me. I look over my shoulder, and see my parents. I ignore them, and turn back to making my arrows.

I hear their footsteps come closer, and then go away. Their room is quite a distance from mine, so they're probably headed there, as they usually do after work.

We don't talk much. I honestly can't remember the last time I ever talked to them. We don't really agree on much. Only a few times have we had a conversation without breaking out into an argument, so it's better we don't talk at all.

I sigh as I toss the arrows I made to the side.