by Hana Steven
He then proceeds to show us how to fire a bow. After a demonstration, we both move to our own booths and give it a go.
Holding the bow like I was shown, I grab an arrow and knock it, resting the shaft on the bow’s grip and putting the string of the bow in the notch at the back of the arrow. I put three fingers on the string, one above and two below the arrow.
Holding my right arm straight out, I pull back on the string. It cuts into my fingers a little but I manage to pull it back to my cheek like instructed. Looking down the arrow shaft, I aim its tip at the target and relax the fingers holding the string. The bow snaps back to shape and the arrow flies down range, passing below and to the right of my target.
“Not bad for your first shot,” Colonel Davis says from behind me. “Remember where you aimed this time and aim higher and to the left; after a few more shots, you should have a good idea of where to aim.”
I nod, acknowledging his advice, and knock another arrow. It takes me several more shots, but I finally manage to at least hit the target consistently, even if I’m not hitting the big red dot I’m aiming for.
I reach for my second to last arrow when a voice calls out, “Cease fire!” A moment passes and no more arrows go flying. “All clear! Retrieve your arrows!”
I set the bow down on the table and go to get my arrows like I was instructed. The handful that outright missed are easy enough to get once I find them, but the ones in the target take a little effort to remove. Once I pull the last one free from the target, I count them to make sure I got the thirteen I fired, then head back.
Placing the arrows back in the holder, I pick up the bow again. I have to admit, I’m starting to like this.
Told you! Gale replies. I hope we can come back so I can try.
“I’m sure we can,” I reply.
“Sure you can what?” asks Liz.
“Come back later so Gale can try,” I answer.
“I don’t see why not,” she says. “Just make sure you check with whomever is in charge at the time first.”
“We will,” I agree.
The same voice calls out again, “Resume fire!”
Knocking an arrow, a thought occurs to me. Drawing the bow, I cast a basic wind glyph in front of the arrow head lined up with the arrow’s shaft, then release the bowstring.
The arrow, which was hard to follow before, hits the target almost instantly and much closer to where I aimed rather than where I was trying to hit.
“What on earth just happened?” Colonel Davis asks from behind me. “Your bow shouldn’t have that much power.”
“I used a spell,” I reply. “I thought it might make it more accurate”
“So you are that girl from yesterday,” he replies. “Magic sure is more useful than I thought.”
“That depends on how you learned it,” Dad comments.
They start discussing magic while I continue shooting arrows. With my spell, I quickly manage to hit the bullseye fairly consistently. As I practice, I begin to get another idea.
At the next all clear, I gather my arrows quickly and return to my booth. Pulling out a piece of scrap paper, I sketch out my new spell.
“Hey, Dad,” I call out.
“What’s up,” he replies, stepping up beside me.
“Can I try this?” I ask, showing him my new spell.
After examining it he looks to me, “You’ve been looking at my spell book again.”
“Uh, yeah. Sorry.”
“At least you remembered to ask,” he sighs. “It looks okay to me; give it a go, although you may want to tell the colonel first.”
Getting the colonel’s okay, I cast my new spell, creating a bow made out of the same kind of compressed magic as Dad’s sword, except mine is made of wind, not fire.
I give the bow a test pull and find it’s easier to pull than the one I was using. Deciding to give it a go, I’m surprised when an arrow forms, already knocked and ready to fire.
Cool, I wasn’t expecting that, I think to myself.
Pulling back on the string, I aim at the bullseye and release the string. The arrow seems faster than the glyph powered ones and I see a puff of dirt at the far end of the range, directly behind my target.
“My word,” Liz gasps.
“I never…” Colonel Davis says. “That arrow went right through the target.”
“S-sorry,” I sputter, still staring at the now dispersing dust cloud.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” the colonel argues.
A moment later there is a small group of soldiers crowded around us, all chattering confusedly.
“Perhaps we should be going,” Liz suggests. “Do you have any arrows to collect?” she asks, looking to Erik and me.
We both shake our heads.
“Leave your bows,” Colonel Davis says. “I’ll put them up when I have dealt with this bunch.”
“You heard him,” Dad says. “Liz, lead the way.”
Dispersing my bow spell, I follow after them. After twenty minutes we arrive at a big open area covered in grass with tiered benches off to one side.
“The general has set this area aside for your lessons,” Liz explains. “Will this suffice?”
“It will do fine,” Dad says.
“You have about twenty minutes before the first group will arrive,” she informs. “What, if I may ask, are you planning on doing?”
“Simply put,” Dad replies with a grin, “I’m going to have them play a game with the girls and Erik if he wants to join in.” He then goes on to explain his plan while we wait.
Soon, soldiers start to arrive in groups of about ten. Once soldiers stop arriving and positioning themselves in a very orderly block, Dad calls out.
“Welcome to magic lessons. I am your instructor for the time being; you can call me Kyota. To begin with, I want to apologize in advance. I don’t know military protocol, so I am likely going to do or say some things that are probably incorrect.
“With that said, let us begin. For me to teach you magic, I first need to know a few things. Now, this is definitely not military, but by show of hands, how many of you can use magic of some kind?”
From where I am sitting a few tiers up the stands, I can tell that most of the soldiers raise their hands.
“Okay, for those of you who raised your hands, I want you to try and make a sphere of water like this,” Dad holds up his hand with a water sphere measuring a foot across in his palm. “Since you already have a means of casting magic, I can only really help you develop it. So, first you need to figure out how to make new spells. Those of you who don’t know magic, come to the front.”
For the next half an hour, Dad works with the soldiers on developing their magic. After a while, he gives the three of us a wave and we start to circle around the soldiers, spreading out so we can get to as many as possible.
“Okay!” Dad calls out. “I want you to keep practicing this when you have time, but for now let’s move on to how to combat magic.” I can hear the grin in his voice as he calls out, “Your goal for the next hour is to stay dry.”
There’s a notable mumble of confusion among the soldiers before all three of us kids unleash the biggest water orbs we can muster above them. We release the spells and the water falls; instantly, a third or so of the soldiers are drenched.
We spend the next hour darting about between the soldiers, firing off harmless water spells at anyone we see. By the time we are done, I am soaking wet and a little cold.
“That’s enough!” Dad calls out.
We all come to a stop and I make my way through the soldiers toward Dad. I absently note that a lot of the soldiers seem happier than before. Even adults need to have some fun, huh, I observe.
“This is the best way I can think of for you all to get experience fighting against magic users. The biggest thing to remember is that with magic, nothing is impossible. As many of you probably noticed, one of your opponents just now is a fox. She is capable of using magic and is already quite good at it.
“For now, these lessons will involve developing your magic, then facing these three to get a feel for how magic users fight. For today, though, I think I have kept you a little longer than I meant to. Dismissed!”
As the soldiers make their way out of the clearing, I see the general approaching.
“I’m hoping the fact that they are all drenched is a good thing?” he asks.
“It’s a start,” Dad replies, tossing me our clothing bundle. “You kids should get out of those wet clothes.”
Chapter 15
Showdown and Shopping
Once Gale and I are dressed in dry clothes, we follow Liz back to the mess hall for lunch before returning for the afternoon group. Things proceed much like they did with the first group, except that they pay more attention to Gale now that she looks like a little girl again.
I’m in the midst of the soldiers, tossing water balls at them whenever I get a chance, when I am suddenly grabbed by the arm.
“Not so tough now, huh, girly,” a large, mean-looking soldier says while a few others nearby chuckle. “It’s a shame what kind of…accidents…can happen in these exercises.”
“Let me go,” I demand.
The man and his friends just chuckle.
“I believe the girl asked you to release her,” says a woman from behind me.
Looking in the direction of the voice, I see three soldiers, two men—one with dark, almost black, skin—and a woman. The two men are already heading toward me and my captor, intercepting his friends and breaking his grip on my arm.
Once free, I turn to my former captors and hurl Wind Blasts at each of their heads. I easily have clear shots, as most of the soldiers have backed up at this point leaving me, my three rescuers, and the four men who grabbed me standing in a large open area.
My spells connect. The four men are too preoccupied with my two rescuers to notice them until it’s too late. All four get thrown back several feet before landing hard on the soggy ground. I cast a large Vine Snare under the lot of them and watch as they are all quickly wrapped up and restrained by my spell.
“You okay, lass?” the dark-skinned man asks me.
I nod, still watching the four bound soldiers. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“That’s good,” says the second man. “My names Derek. These are my friends Scott,” he indicates the dark skinned man, “and Traecy,” he waves to the woman.
Traecy walks up to the man who grabbed me and kicks his arm. “I am going to enjoy doling out your punishment.”
“What’s going on here?” Dad asks, breaking through the ring of on-looking soldiers.
“We had a few people who thought they would do something stupid,” Scott answers.
“Well, I guess we have our first four expulsions,” Dad states.
“Yeah,” agrees Traecy. “And I’m going to enjoy coming up with a suitable punishment for them.”
“And you are?” Dad asks, looking at Traecy.
“Lieutenant Colonel Traecy Maguire,” she responds. “This is my battalion.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Dad greets.
“The pleasure is mine,” Traecy counters. “I saw Sylphy’s match yesterday; I was quite impressed.” Turning to the ring of observers, she picks one out and orders, “Captain Presley, go fetch the general.”
The man she pointed to salutes then hurries off through the crowd.
“I don’t mean to step on your toes here, instructor,” Traecy says, looking back to Dad. “But I feel like we are done for the day.”
“Agreed,” Dad says with a nod. “It’s your battalion; do you have anything they should do instead?”
Traecy shakes her head then calls out, “Dismissed! The rest of the time is yours today, but I suggest practicing your magic.”
Most of the soldiers make their way out of the training grounds. Soon we are left with just the trio that came to my rescue, the four attackers, and a handful of other soldiers who are mostly scattered about trying to conjure water orbs.
“It’s really none of my business,” Derek begins, “but why aren’t you girls wearing swimsuits instead of regular clothing?”
“What’s a swimsuit?” I ask, not recognizing the word.
Traecy gives me an odd look then says, “I can’t let that stand. I’m taking you two shopping.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, still confused.
“Lieutenant Maguire,” the general calls out as he approaches. “What is this about a fight?”
“These four men decided to attack Sylphy,” Traecy responds. “I was thinking of having them scrub the bathrooms for the next year with only a hand brush and a bucket.”
The bound men squirm a bit at hearing this.
“How about the next three months and a cut in salary instead,” the general counters with a nasty grin.
More squirming from my bound attackers.
“That works,” Traecy agrees. “Yo, Jenson, Adams! Care to escort these four and the general to the administration building?”
Two nearby soldiers share a look before snapping to attention. “Gladly, Lieutenant”
“I think I best go with them,” the general says. “I trust I can leave our guests in your hands?”
“Of course, sir,” Traecy salutes. Turning back to us, she says, “Now, let’s go shopping!”
“Here we go again,” Scott scoffs.
“You boys don’t have to come,” Traecy retorts.
“We’re coming,” Derek says. Then with a snicker adds, “You should know, Scott would never miss a chance to see you in a swimsuit.”
“And why wouldn’t he want to see me in a swimsuit?” Traecy replies. She poses and adds, “I’m gorgeous.”
“Maybe when you’re not wearing a soaking wet military uniform,” Scott chuckles.
“You guys sure seem to get along,” Gale comments.
“We’ve been friends for years,” Traecy explains.
“And here I thought we were more than that,” Scott mopes.
Traecy gives him a kiss on the cheek then says, “Enough talk. It’s time to shop.”
“Just make sure the kids are back for dinner,” Dad says. “The three of you are invited, as well, as thanks for standing up for Sylphy.”
“Thanks,” Traecy says. “You guys are staying on Officer Lane, right?”
“That’s right,” Liz answers. “House seven. If you’ll be watching the kids, I’ll make sure Kyota and Poseidon make their way back.”
“You going with them, Erik?” Poseidon asks.
“Might as well,” he replies. “I’d rather not keep wearing my clothes, either.”
“Here’s some money,” Dad says, handing me some paper bills.
“Thanks,” I say, taking the money.
“Have fun,” he replies, ruffling my hair.
With that settled, Gale, Erik, and I follow the soldier trio to the exchange—the military’s general store. Traecy leads us to a back corner where there are several racks of clothes. A couple racks even have kids’ clothes.
“So now that we’re here,” Gale prompts, “will you finally explain what a swimsuit is?”
“I suppose we can,” Traecy teases. She picks up a hanger from a rack of adult clothes and holds it out. “This is a swimsuit.”
“That looks like colorful underwear,” I say dryly.
“Yeah, that’s pretty much what a bikini is,” Derek says.
“There are less revealing ones, as well, but what’s the fun in that?” asks Traecy.
“For a better explanation,” Erik says, “swimsuits are designed to get wet. They are more comfortable and don’t hold water like your normal clothes do.”
“But for girls, it’s also about looking cute!” Traecy adds, picking up a pink frilly one that looks like a pair of shorts and a fairly short tank top. “I think you would look adorable in this, Gale.”
“I’m not sure pink is her color,” Scott counters.
Traecy holds the outfit out in front of Gale. “Yeah, you may be
right.” Returning the pink one, she digs through the rack. After a moment, she pulls out a green version except the shorts are a little longer and there is a short skirt over it. “How about green?”
“I like green,” Gale answers.
“How’s this one?” Derek asks, holding out a light blue one-piece with flower patterns and a frill around the waist and chest area.
“Oh, I want to see Sylphy in that one,” Gale comments.
“Agreed,” Traecy says. “I think it would look good on her. What sizes do you girls wear?”
“I was told I’m size ten,” I reveal.
Traecy nods, then looks to Gale.
“I don’t know,” Gale responds. “We just kind of picked things in Kingston.”
“Well, let’s just try this one,” Traecy says. “It looks about right.” She takes Gale’s hand and leads us back to a changing room set in the back wall of the building.
“Do you want me to stay and help you into them?” Traecy asks.
“Gale’s seems easy enough,” I reply. Holding up the suit Derek picked out I ask, “But how am I supposed to put this on?”
“Step in through the neck,” Traecy replies. “I can help you if you want.”
I look to Gale to see if she’s okay with it but she just shrugs. “Should have known you wouldn’t care.” Turning back to Traecy, I say, “If you would, please.”
The three of us step into the fitting room, which is thankfully large enough, and close the door.
“Let’s do this one at a time,” Traecy suggests. “I don’t know that there’s enough room for both of you to try changing at once.”
“Okay,” I agree, sitting on the bench as Gale strips off her damp shirt.
“Wouldn’t that be easier if you took off the ears headband?” Traecy asks.
“Those are her real ears,” I tell her, “not a headband. She’s a Kitsune.”
“Before yesterday I might have doubted that,” Traecy admits. “But now, I’ll just take your word for it.”
A couple minutes later, Gale is dressed in the swimsuit; it seems a little small to me since it fits her snugly.
