"Pampered Heir, Spoiled Brat, Royal Arse, Petty Fire Princess,"
They all rang true, and they all were voiced weekly if not daily, though less now then when we had first arrived at the camp of the Rukhin. One of the camps I should say as there were many clans with their own camps and bases in the Tavan Mountains.
And the names weren't the end of the teasing and tormenting either. Moc bows, speaking overdramatically in our slight northern accents, endless chastizing in training, and never will I forget the craggy twig crowns they would weave and forcefully place atop my head.
I always allow it though.
Maybe because no one has ever had the guts to do it before, or because it warms the fire within my wind-whipped bones, or perhaps the fact that I know my family would relish the chance to punish them for the actions, should they ever be made aware of the situation.
But for whatever the reason, I smile at the names, I laugh at the jokes, and I keep the twig crowns on my head till they are blown off by the raging breeze. I've never had to work for anything in my life. And I'm relishing in the fire.
-
"NO! NO! NO! You're doing it all wrong!" Waren yells at me for the third time in fifteen minutes, my personal best!
"Why can't you ever just follow instructions for once in your privileged life!" my instructor's deep voice booms across the open archery field and out into the cliffs beyond, startling some birds into flight that were perched on nearby ledges in the sharp rock formations.
The age of 56 years, Waren is a stern-faced man, with slim wrinkle lines running up from his chin and cheeks, over his brown eyes and ever lowered brows, and across his forehead before disappearing into his dark hair, now streaked with silver.
Upon hearing that he was to be my instructor, I had worried about his age and abilities to teach me, but I should never have doubted. The foolish thought was drowned in sweat and my own "dirty royal blood." in the events of our first lesson.
Though he may be old enough to be my grandfather (If I had one.) Waren is no doubt stronger and faster than I in the ways and techniques of the rukhin, including riding, handling the birds, and archery.
"My arrows are in the center of the targets!" I argue back. Shots that I'm proud of, as the arrows had to fly through wind and weather before hitting the smallest dot on the target at 300-yards. Not the farthest target in the range, but farther than any I've shot at home.
"Targets that you weren't told to hit!!" he growls and his already lowered eyebrows dip down another centimeter.
Spearing a glance at the 100-yard targets I was supposed to be aiming for, I clench my yew bow and feel my already firm grip harden, the white on my skin not just from my hold but from the bite of the wind.
"I can shoot farther!" I growl back at him, lifting my eyes to meet his. A task harder now that his eyes are barely visible. "Stop underestimating me!! I can do more!"
"Elena!" he sighs and his shoulders drop an inch. "Let go of the mindset of aiming for the prey."
"I am!" I argue stubbornly.
"No! You're not!" he yells again before calming slightly and continuing. "Suppose you are the target the enemy is racing for. Milliseconds are acres covered in the air. Suppose by the time it takes you to load your bow, they're within 300 yards. Suppose they're within 200. Suppose they're no farther than 50 yards from where you are." his deep voice settles over the range and I feel the leaping flames within me start to fall and fade back to embers.
YOU ARE READING
Starlight of a Moonbeam
Fanfiction~ Fenrys fan fic ~ After the Great War and the end of Kingdom of Ash, the life of the white wolf continues, leading to unexpected twists and turns he could have never suspected in his immortal life... "There was a pull, a call, a link. To home, to h...
