November 3rd, 1997
I was in a bad mood.
And that was putting it lightly. I had to take archery lessons today. Archery. Archery! Seriously, it was a disgrace. Did I mention somewhere that I didn't like the whole flowers and tree-hugging theme? Yeah? Well, this topped it off. Archery. As if.
Unfortunately, I was being mildly threatened/forced. The King hadn't sounded like he wanted to force me. He had been talking real quietly and gently, like he knew that I would object. He had wanted to sound persuasive and understanding. Unfortunately, it had came across to me as a barely concealed threat that also meant: "Zelf, I am tired of you wandering around the palace aimlessly bugging people; get a job." So archery lessons I must take.
Really, it was only my third day here. You'd think the guy would give me a little mourning time. But I didn't want to bother him, so I hadn't objected. Now I was on my way traipsing through a bitter, windy, cold November morning to reach the archery range. I shivered and pulled my sleeves further down my arm. Yes, I know; I was wearing sleeves. Shh.
I stepped on a dead leaf and winced at the crackle. Yet another reminder of the weather. Sure, the trees had been pretty. In October.
'Hello, m'm,' I mumbled. There was an old lady there with her back to me. She pretended not to notice me, or maybe she really hadn't heard.
I was in some sort of circular clearing. There were stone slabs on the ground to mark it, and a few targets set up against some trees at the outer rim of the circle. All in all, quite a dull place.
I sighed. 'Excuse me,' I said a little louder. She turned around. Her face was tight and wrinkly, sort of like a tomato getting bad. Her frown was fierce; I was obviously unwelcome here. I bit my lip. Lucky me. I bet she was loads of fun.
'Sorry to disturb you, but the King sent me here. Um. . . for the. . . uh. . . archery?'
Her buggy little eyes narrowed at me. 'Zeelf?' she said. Her voice was thin and, frankly, a bit scary. I resisted the urge to clench my jaw. Zeelf? Seriously? How could anyone mispronounce my name like that?
'Zelf,' I said, correcting her.
She nodded. 'That's what I said.'
I took a deep breath. I could tell right away that there would be no use in arguing with this lady.
She pointed to a black longbow resting next to a bench. I walked over to it and bent down, examining it. The bow was smooth and sleek, it had a few designs on the end. I picked it up and pulled back the string.
And immediately regretted it.
I let out a embarrassingly high-pitched squeal of pain, and dropped the bow immediately, clutching my arm. I checked to see if there was blood. To my great surprise, there wasn't.
The lady had been watching the whole spectacle without a word. 'It's a lot harder than it looks,' she said. She sounded smug. 'The King had the bow specially requested for you. Of course, you won't be able to use it anytime soon, so we're starting you with a training bow.'
Training bow? I frowned and looked around. All I could see here were dead leaves, a few targets, and what looked like a stool, with a long stick leaning on it.
Wait a minute.
'Wrong, wrong, wrong! All wrong!'
I growled and bit back a curse. The stick had turned out to be the "training bow". It was an okay bow as bows go. How should I know? My dad was a miner, not some tree-lover who shot toothpicks at people. Thus, I wasn't very knowledgeable in the toothpick-shooting art.
The old lady (who's name was Mrs. Deuberson) had been yelling at me for hours. Apparently, nothing I ever did was right.
I pulled back the string as far as I could. This one was easier than the other bow. She had told me that its pull weight was close to 120 lbs. That's right, 120!
Anyway, back to subject. As I was saying, Deuberson was yelling at me again. I was getting very annoyed at her and wanted to just snap the stupid bow on my knee. Unfortunately, I couldn't do that; the King wanted me to learn archery, so learn archery I would.
Just not today.
'How long have you had this bow?' I said conversationally, letting my arm relax back at my side.
Her eyes narrowed. 'I'ts not mine, it's just the training bow.'
I inwardly sighed. And they thought I was dense. 'Yes, the training bow,' I said. 'Is it important?'
She looked at me like I was crazy. Being me, I was sort of used to that, so I just shrugged and shot her my best goody-goody smile. It didn't work.
Deuberson didn't say anything, so I brought back the arm which was holding the bow as far as I could.
'Are you sure?' I said. She kept silent and went on shooting me funny looks.
I yawned. 'Your choice,' I said simply, then threw the bow as far as I could. I have to say, it went a lot farther than any of the arrows littered around me. 'Fetch.'
She practically squealed and ran off after the bow. I sat down on the stool with a heavy sigh, my head in my hands. I felt lost, and I didn't know what to do.
I kicked at a pile of dead leaves. The old lady had tattled, and the King had given me a long lecture about respect. I had only half listened to him. Let him rant on. He's king. He doesn't know what it's like to be me. I mean, respect others when they respect you, right? I don't know. Probably not. If I actually used that rule, I would be getting a whole heck of a lot more lectures.
'Hello.'
My head shot up and I regarded the stranger wearily. He looked around twenty, with long (and I mean long) blond hair down his back. Twinkling, friendly brown eyes smiled at me. He himself had on a little smirk. Not a mean smirk. Just a smirk.
'Hey,' I said quietly. He was a Tree, obviously (just in case you didn't catch that).
He sat down on the ground next to me and stretched out long legs. 'Are you okay?'
I looked at him curiously. He looked genuinely concerned. Strange. . .
'I'm fine,' I muttered. I subconsciously shot a glare at the dark bow sitting a few yards away from us.
Blondie glanced at the bow. Maybe it was just me, but his eyes seemed to light up a little. He took it and pulled it back expertly. 'Even now in good shape,' he murmured to himself. I had no idea what he was talking about.
'Is that your bow?' I asked. He looked at me, surprised. 'No, not at all,' he said. 'It. . . a friend of mine has one like it.'
'Oh,' I said slowly, even though I still didn't understand.
He smiled at me and brought the bow over. 'Can you use it yet?' he said. I shook my head.
'I can teach you,' he volunteered. 'It's a bit hard, but I'm sure you'll be able to do it quite nicely in a few years.'
In a few years. I swallowed. Would it really take that long?
Seeing my worried look, he added quickly, 'I mean to do it really well. I can teach you the basics. This one has a heavy pull weight, a little to much for your age. So you'll have to wait a bit.'
I nodded.
He looked at me for a while, seeming completely comfortable with the silence. 'Well, to start with,' he said at last. 'My name is R-Peter.'
'R-Peter?' I said.
'Well you'll learn my real name one day, but for reasons of concealment I'm going under Peter for now.'
I nodded. ''Kay,' I said. 'Seems good to me.'
He grinned widely. 'Excellent. Shall we start, then?'
It turned out that Peter was actually a very nice teacher. He was patient with me and seemed to know exactly when I reached my limits, which was more than a bit strange. Almost as if he had met a mix before. . . but then that was impossible. I was the one and only (other than Nabe). Peter was just a really nice guy.
He came every afternoon for about a month. By then I was pretty good, if I do say so myself. At the end of the month he told me goodbye.
'Zelf,' he said. 'We will meet again, and you might get a bit mad at me for not telling you who I was sooner, if you realize before then. But it's for your own good. Anyway, you're doing great, keep it up! You'll never be as good as me though, even the all-powerful Zelf Silvermane admits that.' He smirked.
My eyes widened a bit. How did he know my last name?
He waved his hand, dismissing the topic. 'But anyway, I regret to inform you that this is goodbye for now. Take care and good luck!
And he disappeared.
Just like that.
POOF!
Robin found me like that, staring into space where Peter had disappeared. He smiled at me, and his smile vaguely reminded me of a familiar smirk. Not a mocking smirk, just a smirk. I gave a start and looked at him closely. Happy, puppy-dog brown eyes, blond, blond hair. . . three freckles on his nose. No more, no less, he would say later.
But no. . . that was impossible. . .
Was it?
And that was putting it lightly. I had to take archery lessons today. Archery. Archery! Seriously, it was a disgrace. Did I mention somewhere that I didn't like the whole flowers and tree-hugging theme? Yeah? Well, this topped it off. Archery. As if.
Unfortunately, I was being mildly threatened/forced. The King hadn't sounded like he wanted to force me. He had been talking real quietly and gently, like he knew that I would object. He had wanted to sound persuasive and understanding. Unfortunately, it had came across to me as a barely concealed threat that also meant: "Zelf, I am tired of you wandering around the palace aimlessly bugging people; get a job." So archery lessons I must take.
Really, it was only my third day here. You'd think the guy would give me a little mourning time. But I didn't want to bother him, so I hadn't objected. Now I was on my way traipsing through a bitter, windy, cold November morning to reach the archery range. I shivered and pulled my sleeves further down my arm. Yes, I know; I was wearing sleeves. Shh.
I stepped on a dead leaf and winced at the crackle. Yet another reminder of the weather. Sure, the trees had been pretty. In October.
'Hello, m'm,' I mumbled. There was an old lady there with her back to me. She pretended not to notice me, or maybe she really hadn't heard.
I was in some sort of circular clearing. There were stone slabs on the ground to mark it, and a few targets set up against some trees at the outer rim of the circle. All in all, quite a dull place.
I sighed. 'Excuse me,' I said a little louder. She turned around. Her face was tight and wrinkly, sort of like a tomato getting bad. Her frown was fierce; I was obviously unwelcome here. I bit my lip. Lucky me. I bet she was loads of fun.
'Sorry to disturb you, but the King sent me here. Um. . . for the. . . uh. . . archery?'
Her buggy little eyes narrowed at me. 'Zeelf?' she said. Her voice was thin and, frankly, a bit scary. I resisted the urge to clench my jaw. Zeelf? Seriously? How could anyone mispronounce my name like that?
'Zelf,' I said, correcting her.
She nodded. 'That's what I said.'
I took a deep breath. I could tell right away that there would be no use in arguing with this lady.
She pointed to a black longbow resting next to a bench. I walked over to it and bent down, examining it. The bow was smooth and sleek, it had a few designs on the end. I picked it up and pulled back the string.
And immediately regretted it.
I let out a embarrassingly high-pitched squeal of pain, and dropped the bow immediately, clutching my arm. I checked to see if there was blood. To my great surprise, there wasn't.
The lady had been watching the whole spectacle without a word. 'It's a lot harder than it looks,' she said. She sounded smug. 'The King had the bow specially requested for you. Of course, you won't be able to use it anytime soon, so we're starting you with a training bow.'
Training bow? I frowned and looked around. All I could see here were dead leaves, a few targets, and what looked like a stool, with a long stick leaning on it.
Wait a minute.
'Wrong, wrong, wrong! All wrong!'
I growled and bit back a curse. The stick had turned out to be the "training bow". It was an okay bow as bows go. How should I know? My dad was a miner, not some tree-lover who shot toothpicks at people. Thus, I wasn't very knowledgeable in the toothpick-shooting art.
The old lady (who's name was Mrs. Deuberson) had been yelling at me for hours. Apparently, nothing I ever did was right.
I pulled back the string as far as I could. This one was easier than the other bow. She had told me that its pull weight was close to 120 lbs. That's right, 120!
Anyway, back to subject. As I was saying, Deuberson was yelling at me again. I was getting very annoyed at her and wanted to just snap the stupid bow on my knee. Unfortunately, I couldn't do that; the King wanted me to learn archery, so learn archery I would.
Just not today.
'How long have you had this bow?' I said conversationally, letting my arm relax back at my side.
Her eyes narrowed. 'I'ts not mine, it's just the training bow.'
I inwardly sighed. And they thought I was dense. 'Yes, the training bow,' I said. 'Is it important?'
She looked at me like I was crazy. Being me, I was sort of used to that, so I just shrugged and shot her my best goody-goody smile. It didn't work.
Deuberson didn't say anything, so I brought back the arm which was holding the bow as far as I could.
'Are you sure?' I said. She kept silent and went on shooting me funny looks.
I yawned. 'Your choice,' I said simply, then threw the bow as far as I could. I have to say, it went a lot farther than any of the arrows littered around me. 'Fetch.'
She practically squealed and ran off after the bow. I sat down on the stool with a heavy sigh, my head in my hands. I felt lost, and I didn't know what to do.
I kicked at a pile of dead leaves. The old lady had tattled, and the King had given me a long lecture about respect. I had only half listened to him. Let him rant on. He's king. He doesn't know what it's like to be me. I mean, respect others when they respect you, right? I don't know. Probably not. If I actually used that rule, I would be getting a whole heck of a lot more lectures.
'Hello.'
My head shot up and I regarded the stranger wearily. He looked around twenty, with long (and I mean long) blond hair down his back. Twinkling, friendly brown eyes smiled at me. He himself had on a little smirk. Not a mean smirk. Just a smirk.
'Hey,' I said quietly. He was a Tree, obviously (just in case you didn't catch that).
He sat down on the ground next to me and stretched out long legs. 'Are you okay?'
I looked at him curiously. He looked genuinely concerned. Strange. . .
'I'm fine,' I muttered. I subconsciously shot a glare at the dark bow sitting a few yards away from us.
Blondie glanced at the bow. Maybe it was just me, but his eyes seemed to light up a little. He took it and pulled it back expertly. 'Even now in good shape,' he murmured to himself. I had no idea what he was talking about.
'Is that your bow?' I asked. He looked at me, surprised. 'No, not at all,' he said. 'It. . . a friend of mine has one like it.'
'Oh,' I said slowly, even though I still didn't understand.
He smiled at me and brought the bow over. 'Can you use it yet?' he said. I shook my head.
'I can teach you,' he volunteered. 'It's a bit hard, but I'm sure you'll be able to do it quite nicely in a few years.'
In a few years. I swallowed. Would it really take that long?
Seeing my worried look, he added quickly, 'I mean to do it really well. I can teach you the basics. This one has a heavy pull weight, a little to much for your age. So you'll have to wait a bit.'
I nodded.
He looked at me for a while, seeming completely comfortable with the silence. 'Well, to start with,' he said at last. 'My name is R-Peter.'
'R-Peter?' I said.
'Well you'll learn my real name one day, but for reasons of concealment I'm going under Peter for now.'
I nodded. ''Kay,' I said. 'Seems good to me.'
He grinned widely. 'Excellent. Shall we start, then?'
It turned out that Peter was actually a very nice teacher. He was patient with me and seemed to know exactly when I reached my limits, which was more than a bit strange. Almost as if he had met a mix before. . . but then that was impossible. I was the one and only (other than Nabe). Peter was just a really nice guy.
He came every afternoon for about a month. By then I was pretty good, if I do say so myself. At the end of the month he told me goodbye.
'Zelf,' he said. 'We will meet again, and you might get a bit mad at me for not telling you who I was sooner, if you realize before then. But it's for your own good. Anyway, you're doing great, keep it up! You'll never be as good as me though, even the all-powerful Zelf Silvermane admits that.' He smirked.
My eyes widened a bit. How did he know my last name?
He waved his hand, dismissing the topic. 'But anyway, I regret to inform you that this is goodbye for now. Take care and good luck!
And he disappeared.
Just like that.
POOF!
Robin found me like that, staring into space where Peter had disappeared. He smiled at me, and his smile vaguely reminded me of a familiar smirk. Not a mocking smirk, just a smirk. I gave a start and looked at him closely. Happy, puppy-dog brown eyes, blond, blond hair. . . three freckles on his nose. No more, no less, he would say later.
But no. . . that was impossible. . .
Was it?