Three Fates Entwined | Dream Team

Chapter Twenty

George watched as Filens bent the bow, using his whole body to make the effort possible. He looped the string on the tip of the bow and tied it off, then slackened his grip.

"There," he said, plucking at the taunt string. "This is yours now."

"I think I'm going to focus on swords, sir," George said, giving the bow a nervous look. He half expected the string to give out and lash at him at any moment.

Filens shook his head. "My prince, it is only wise to be learned in both ranged and close-quarter fighting."

Sapnap and Clay appeared at the side, coming from the dining hall. George waved them over in relief. "Guys, tell Filens that I don't need to learn how to use a bow."

"Aw, Gogy doesn't want to pick up a new skill?" Sapnap teased.

"Being able to shoot a bow with accuracy is really useful," Clay said honestly.

Filens smiled broadly at George. "See? Even your friends agree."

The knight handed the bow to him, who accepted it rather reluctantly. As soon as Filens was out of earshot, George turned and frowned at his two friends. "You were supposed to help me," he complained.

Clay shrugged. "Hey, we were just telling you the truth. I use a bow all the time."

"Yeah, that's because you're a warrior god," George huffed. "I've just gotten used to a sword!"

Sapnap patted him on the shoulder. "You're selling yourself out short. In truth, you're actually getting pretty good with a sword. Another week or two of practice and you'll be just as good --- or better than --- me or Dre--- Clay."

"What was that stumble before his name?" George asked with a laugh.

Clay wasn't smiling. Sapnap looked like he wanted to slap himself.

George chuckled uncomfortably. "Uh... something wrong?"

"It was just my mind stopping for a second," Sapnap mumbled. "Brains do that sometimes, huh."

"Okay...?"

He didn't understand why the mood had suddenly changed from joking to deadly serious, and the shift made him extremely uncomfortable.

"Come here, George," Clay called, heading towards the targets. "I'm going to teach you how to use a bow, and you can't complain."

George sighed and trudged over to the man. Looks like he was going to have to learn how to use a bow no matter what he said.

***

"You've improved fast," Clay noted.

George smiled. His arrow was lodged directly in the center of the target. In the targets right next to his, Sapnap's arrow and Clay's own arrow mirrored his own.

"You're a good teacher," George said.

Clay shrugged. "I've just had lots of practice, that's all. And you're a quick learner."

"What about me?" Sapnap piped up.

"You were always good," Clay said dismissively.

Sapnap grinned at George, who just scowled back at him. But inside, he was proud. He never thought that he'd become good with a bow, and yet there he was, hitting bullseyes with no apparent effort.

"So we're all archers now, huh?" George said, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm an arbalist, but sure." Clay shrugged again.

George plucked his bow and grinned. "I never thought that shooting a stick with feathers on one end and a pointy thing on the other would make me so happy."

"You still prefer swords?" Sapnap asked.

"That's tricky," George mused. "On one hand, I can attack from far away and still be of use, but on the other hand, there are more people who fight with a sword, so I would be able to take out more enemies."

"We're training to fight assassins though, aren't we?" Clay asked with a slight frown.

"We're knights now," George corrected. "Well at least, you two are. Technically I'm still the prince. But still, that means that we need to look into the threats in the future as much as the threats that are here right now."

Clay fingered with the string of his bow. He seemed lost in thought, distracted by something in his head. His expression was stony and impossible to read.

"Clay," George said. "You look like a block of clay. Be more active."

The guy glanced up at him. "Oh... sorry. I was just... preoccupied with something in my head."

George raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He caught Sapnap's eye. The man gave him a slight shake of his head.

"So, um," Sapnap said, in a sorry attempt at conversation, "you guys wanna go scavenge our arrows from wherever they landed at?"

***

George pulled another rouge arrow out of the grass. His first shots had been nothing short of miserable, but after emptying his whole quiver into the land behind the targets, he had finally gotten used to using a bow.

"How many have you guys found?" Clay's voice called from somewhere nearby.

"Eight," George answered.

"Eleven," Sapnap's voice called back.

"Oh, that's pretty close to a full quiver," Clay said, sounding surprised. "George, how many arrows did you shoot again?"

"Two and a half quivers," George mumbled, loud enough that they could hear him so that he wouldn't have to repeat himself, but quiet enough that he could express how embarrassed he was by it.

Sapnap made a strangled sound. "What? George!"

"Hey, I was a noob, okay?"

"George!"

"I know!"

He could hear Clay's laugh and felt his cheeks redden. A flash of white caught his eye and he pulled another arrow out of the ground where it was lodged with much more force than was probably required.

George looked around, scanning the ground for any more arrows. He had nine, which meant he was still three short of a full quiver. 

His gaze fell on the forest at the edge of the training field. Then he squinted, just to make sure that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him.

A single knife was stuck up to its hilt in the trunk of a tree, the dried blood on its handle hinting at the dark past that it hid.