A long crystal arrow whistled as it sliced through the heavy forest air before slapping into a rounded hay-bale target sitting on the edge of an elven courtyard, giving off a muffled thud of exhaustion. As it hit, its shaft began to glow with a dull smouldering cyan before igniting into vibrant green aurora as the crystal arrow shattered into tiny shards, evaporating into a cloud of silver mist. A succession of arrows closely followed the first; each strike piercing the centre of the straw target and detonating into clouds of silver, their misty trails drifting away in the light breeze. At the opposite end of the courtyard stood two elves, one clearly of age with long frosted hair which drooped down each shoulder and the other of a shorter and younger stature.
“Excellent. As accurate as ever Lord Arweinydd.” The elderly elf whispered in a laboured tone.
“You humble me Master Saethydd.” The young elf lord responded.
The elderly elf nodded gracefully and stood back, allowing Arweinydd to raise the great crystalline bow he wielded in his left hand up to take aim at the straw target once more. As he pulled on the thin silk bow string, his muscles tightened under the strain and his pose stiffened in anticipation of the shot. A small crystal fragment broke from the shaft of the bow, hovering by the elf’s grip before elongating with the string’s draw forming into the familiar shape of an arrow. Once fully taught, the arrow head sat within the groove of Arweinydd’s forefingers, it’s fletching lightly gripped by his right hand, and its nock cradling the thin string. Its shaft began to smoulder once again with a dull cyan glow as elven magic ran the length of its shaft, maintaining its shape and design.
“Good.” Saethydd remarked, pleased with Arweinydd’s carefully rehearsed stance.
Arweinydd drew a long deep breath steadying his aim and tightening his grip. He snatched his fingers from the bow string releasing the arrow from the bow. The crystal shard sliced through the air, darting towards the distant edge of the courtyard before piercing the straw target and evaporating into a shining silver mist. Each shot had struck the centre of the rounded hay bale, depressing its centre like a finger poke in fresh dough.
“I fear there is no more I can teach you Lord Arweinydd. Your aim is true and consistency seldom falters.” Saethydd remarked once more.
“An honour to be praised by the master archer himself” Arweinydd bowed in gratitude of the compliments.
Saethydd gazed up into the sky through the narrow clearing the canopy above. “The sun begins to dip. Our session is over and you must prepare for the summer solstice celebrations.”
“We shall meet at the keep Master Saethydd” Arweinydd replied.
The two elves bowed resting their two forefingers breast, a sign of respect and honour within elven society, before Arweinydd hurried off through an archway dividing the courtyard from the keep beyond.
“Excellent. As accurate as ever Lord Arweinydd.” The elderly elf whispered in a laboured tone.
“You humble me Master Saethydd.” The young elf lord responded.
The elderly elf nodded gracefully and stood back, allowing Arweinydd to raise the great crystalline bow he wielded in his left hand up to take aim at the straw target once more. As he pulled on the thin silk bow string, his muscles tightened under the strain and his pose stiffened in anticipation of the shot. A small crystal fragment broke from the shaft of the bow, hovering by the elf’s grip before elongating with the string’s draw forming into the familiar shape of an arrow. Once fully taught, the arrow head sat within the groove of Arweinydd’s forefingers, it’s fletching lightly gripped by his right hand, and its nock cradling the thin string. Its shaft began to smoulder once again with a dull cyan glow as elven magic ran the length of its shaft, maintaining its shape and design.
“Good.” Saethydd remarked, pleased with Arweinydd’s carefully rehearsed stance.
Arweinydd drew a long deep breath steadying his aim and tightening his grip. He snatched his fingers from the bow string releasing the arrow from the bow. The crystal shard sliced through the air, darting towards the distant edge of the courtyard before piercing the straw target and evaporating into a shining silver mist. Each shot had struck the centre of the rounded hay bale, depressing its centre like a finger poke in fresh dough.
“I fear there is no more I can teach you Lord Arweinydd. Your aim is true and consistency seldom falters.” Saethydd remarked once more.
“An honour to be praised by the master archer himself” Arweinydd bowed in gratitude of the compliments.
Saethydd gazed up into the sky through the narrow clearing the canopy above. “The sun begins to dip. Our session is over and you must prepare for the summer solstice celebrations.”
“We shall meet at the keep Master Saethydd” Arweinydd replied.
The two elves bowed resting their two forefingers breast, a sign of respect and honour within elven society, before Arweinydd hurried off through an archway dividing the courtyard from the keep beyond.