by Pedro Urvi
“Annika, if you’d be so kind,” Sigrid said, and made way for her.
The Elder Specialist of Nature took the pouch and showed Lasgol the medallions one by one, the eight elite specialties of Nature. When Lasgol looked at them, with each one he became the Ranger of the elite specialty Annika was showing him. He felt incredibly happy about this, since he had not been able to experience them before. Just as had happened with Wildlife, with each medallion he was able to feel and experience what the specialty consisted of. He smiled. He was thoroughly enjoying the experience.
“Now the Alignment,” said Sigrid.
She handed Lasgol the medallions Annika had showed him. Lasgol took them and realized that he was no longer feeling uneasy. Whatever might be about to happen next, his mind did not see it as a threat, and this made him relax.
“Go ahead,” Sigrid said, and the Four Elder Specialists watched with growing interest.
Lasgol dropped them into the fire, one by one.
And what happened next left everyone astonished.
One by one the images of the eight medallions formed one after the other. Lasgol saw Healer Guard, Furtive Poisoner, Alchemist of the Forest, Elemental Fletcher, Forest Survivor, Expert Herbalist, Forest Trapper and Green Cartographer appear before his eyes.
Annika gave a cry of surprise and amazement. “Unbelievable!”
“It can’t be,” said Engla, who refused to believe what her eyes were showing her. Ivar was shaking his head, looking very unhappy.
Gisli was nodding. “Fascinating.”
“It’s what I suspected,” said Sigrid. “We’re in the presence of someone very special.”
“He shouldn’t be able to do that,” Engla complained.
“And yet he can,” said Sigrid.
“I’m sure he couldn’t do it with my specialty,” said Ivar.
“Well, let’s see about that.”
“But first we’d better check that Lasgol’s all right,” Annika said, and she examined him once again to make sure.
Lasgol felt very well, in a very pleasant dream, happy to be able to experience all those specialties. At the same time a little voice at the back of his mind was telling him that if Annika was checking him it must be for some reason. There was a risk in what they were doing with him. It was dangerous. But he wanted to go on with the experiment, so he ignored that little voice.
“So far, so good,” Annika said.
Ivar came to stand in front of Lasgol and showed him the medallions for the specialties of Archery. Lasgol experienced and enjoyed them immensely, since they were not exactly his forte and he had never even dreamed of attaining one of them. They were reserved for exceptional archers like Ingrid or Molak,
“The Alignment,” Sigrid said, and handed the medallions to Lasgol. Ivar was watching alertly, sure that not a single image would appear.
Lasgol dropped the medallions into the fire, and to Ivar’s enormous anger all the images formed: Mage Hunter, Natural Marksman, Infallible Marksman, Forest Sniper and Archer of the Wind.
“It can’t be!” Ivar complained unhappily. “He doesn’t have the particular levels of skill!”
“You’re right there,” Sigrid said. She was looking at Lasgol in utter puzzlement.
“And so?” Engla asked.
“I think what the test indicates is the potential,” Annika suggested. “Not that he’s at the necessary level to opt for the elite specialty.”
“That could well be,” Gisli agreed. “It shows us that he could reach the elite specialties, but that he’s certainly not prepared for all of them at the moment.”
“That makes complete sense,” said Sigrid.
“Even so,” Gisli pointed out, “his potential is incredible.”
“Let’s see whether that potential is absolute,” Engla said
They repeated the test with the Specialty of Expertise. Engla did not seem at all convinced that Lasgol had the potential, but she went on with the test.
Lasgol did not enjoy the Expertise specialties so much. He thought about Astrid and Viggo, on their way to becoming Assassins, and it saddened him. If he could, he would change it, but it was not his decision but theirs and he could not interfere. Every person needed to be free to follow their own way, their own destiny, based on their own personal choices.
He dropped the medallions into the fire.
And all the images formed one after the other: Stealthy Spy, Natural Assassin, Forest Assassin, Assassin of Nature and Chameleon Stalker.
Engla muttered a curse.
Annika gave a joyful leap. “Wonderful!”
“Impressive!” Gisli exclaimed.
Sigrid was clapping happily. “Lasgol’s potential is incredible!”
Annika looked at Sigrid. “We need to go on studying him.”
The Mother Specialist nodded excitedly. “Without question.”
“It’s too important for us not to,” Gisli agreed.
Engla and Ivar were shaking their heads, showing their refusal to go on down this route. Lasgol too had no desire for them to go on experimenting with him. The fact that others before him had ended badly because of the experiments had stayed in his mind. He would have to find out what had happened; there was a lot at stake for him in this. Unfortunately, seeing Sigrid so convinced, and supported by Annika and Gisli, he had the ominous feeling that he would not be able to avoid it. And although at that moment he could not feel fear because of the effects of the potion, he knew he needed to be wary: very wary.
Chapter 19
The pupils of Wildlife were given the good news that they had permission to watch Archery training that afternoon. Erika, Lasgol and Luca set off to the archery field to watch Ingrid and Molak. Axe, on the other hand, preferred to carry on practicing on his own.
When they arrived at the field, Master Ivar went through the safety measures again to avoid accidents. As was his usual way, he sounded exasperated and looked annoyed as he did so. He did not like the fact that they were there, as Lasgol could tell by his grumpy stare, but he was forced to let them watch because Sigrid had authorized it.
The first one they saw was Molak, who was practicing with the special sniper’s long bow. From what he had told them, it was specially reinforced so that it would have more power, and hence a longer reach. It had also been lightened and trimmed so that it was far easier to use than a traditional bow. The bows snipers used were made by a few Norghanian craftsmen known as the Archers of the North. They were said to be a secret guild of craftsmen, with ancient manufacturing skills which were passed from father to son.
Luca nodded at Molak’s weapon. “That bow he’s using fascinates me.”
“I’m really envious,” Erika admitted. “I don’t think I could manage a weapon like that. I’m very bad with the long bow. In fact the only one I’m good with is the short one. I’m not going to lie to you.” She smiled apologetically.
Luca gave her a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t worry about that. We all have trouble with the long bow.”
“I’m not good at using any kind of bow,” Lasgol admitted. “More like average with all of them.”
“Yeah, but you’re an incredible tracker,” Erika pointed out.
Lasgol shrugged. “I guess you can’t be good at everything.”
Luca smiled. “Don’t tell Ingrid that. She’d be sure to start an argument about it.”
“Very true,” Lasgol admitted. He knew she would say: ‘with effort and tenacity you can achieve anything. You just need to want it with your whole being and practice, practice, practice.’ But of course, there were very few like Ingrid, in fact scarcely anyone.
“Look,” Erika said, “the arrows he uses are special ones too.”
“From what Molak told me,” Luca said, “they’re longer and heavier, and the feathers are larger so that they deviate less at a distance.”
Molak took the bow, a quiver of arrows and a backpack and went into the forest, just far enough to be lost among the first rows of trees. For a
long moment he looked around until finally he seemed to find the right position. He began to make his preparations.
Erika, Luca and Lasgol watched him, intrigued and excited. What could he be doing? They saw him take a large blanket out of the backpack.
“Is he going to spread it on the ground and lie down on it?” Erika wondered. She sounded puzzled.
“Maybe, but that would be pretty strange,” Luca said.
Lasgol did not venture any guess; it was better to wait and see.
To everybody’s surprise, Molak wrapped himself in the blanket from head to foot.
Erika’s jaw dropped. “Eh? What’s he doing?”
“No idea,” Luca admitted.
“Hey, look,” Lasgol pointed out. “The blanket’s the same color and pattern as the hooded cloaks the specialists wear.”
“That’s right,” Luca agreed. “I think he’s hiding... camouflaging himself.”
After a moment they lost sight of him. Completely still now, he blended in with the forest around him thanks to the blanket.
“It’s a camouflage blanket!” Erika said excited. “I want one!”
“Me too,” Luca agreed.
“That makes three of us,” said Lasgol.
As long as Molak avoided moving, they could not see him. He stayed like that for a long while, then he bent over, took the bow and nocked an arrow. When he moved, they saw him. A moment later he aimed from within the forest toward the end of the archery field.
“He’s going to release from in there?” asked Erika. She sounded as though she did not think it was possible.
“I think so,” Luca said.
“And how’s he going to avoid the trees?”
“I think that’s why he spent so long searching for the right position,” Lasgol said.
“Do you think he’ll miss them?”
“I imagine so.”
“What can the target be?” Erika wondered. She was looking toward the end of the field, where they could make out three very distant targets.
“It’ll be the furthest one,” Luca guessed.
“Yeah, I agree,” said Lasgol. “The one in the middle.”
“I can barely make it out,” said Erika. “It’s such a long way away.”
“To be a Sniper,” Luca pointed out, “you need to have excellent vision.”
“Oh well, I’m a bit shortsighted.”
Luca put a hand on her shoulder. “Then you’d better not use a long bow.”
“Yup, I think that’ll be best.” She smiled and shrugged. “I’ll keep to short bows and short distance.”
Molak got under the blanket and aimed. He made a movement which he must have studied and practiced, because the blanket covered him almost completely but the bow remained outside it. Then he stood still, as he normally did when he aimed and measured the shot, and they lost sight of him again.
“Shooting like that,” said Luca, “there’s no way of knowing where the arrow’s coming from.”
Lasgol nodded. “That’s the idea behind hiding in the forest and camouflaging himself. Now he’ll be able to get away.”
He was right. Molak released. With the arrow in the air, the blanket fell to the ground and he ran off until he was lost in the forest in the opposite direction to the shot.
“No enemy’s going to catch that one,” said Erika.
“Let’s hope it’s always like that,” Lasgol said.
“It will be,” Luca assured him. “Molak’s very good.”
Unfortunately Molak was not the only one who was very good. So was the enemy.
They saw Isgord practicing with ten targets at different heights, positions and distances in the middle of the field. He was walking around, releasing to right and left without stopping. He was using a mid-range compound bow, and the targets were set at fifty, a hundred and a hundred and fifty paces.
“He hasn’t missed once,” Erika said in awe.
Luca was watching with his eyes half-closed. “All his shots are bull’s-eyes, dead center.”
Lasgol was watching him too, feeling troubled. It was true, Isgord was very good, which was not good for him. Not good at all.
Isgord emptied his quiver, releasing to right and left as he advanced between the targets at an easy pace. For each shot he aimed for the briefest moment and released. The shot always hit dead center. He reached the end of his course, where he had several quivers of arrows ready. He left the empty one on the ground and picked another, slung it on his back and began to repeat the exercise in the opposite direction.
“Let’s see if he misses any now,” said Erika.
Lasgol was not very hopeful about this.
Isgord moved forward. Coolly, with a strong arm, he aimed and released; aimed again and released again. He did it very rapidly, and yet did not miss a single shot.
Luca whistled.
“Not one miss,” Erika said.
“He’s very good,” Lasgol admitted.
“You’d better keep away from him,” Luca said.
Lasgol shrugged despairingly. “Yeah, two hundred paces at least.”
“Look at Ingrid,” said Erika. She was pointing to the other side. “That’s odd...”
Lasgol and Luca turned to see Ingrid getting ready to practice with Master Ivar. Lasgol realized why she had caught Erika’s attention. She was armed with an unusual, tiny bow.
“It’s a special one,” Lasgol said. “She showed us one like that the other day. Viggo teased her, saying Ivar had given her a toy bow for kids. That made her furious. She said it was the kind of bow used by the Archer of the Wind and was very hard to use, because it’s strung twice as hard as a short bow, and nocking an arrow and aiming takes a tremendous effort of hands and arms.”
“Ingrid spends the evenings practicing nocking that bow,” Luca said. “Just nocking an arrow and pulling back the string. She does it to strengthen her arms and her hands.”
“She let me try it,” said Erika. “It’s almost impossible to aim with that bow. Just to nock it you need the strength of a Snow Troll. The bow’s strung so that only someone with pure brute strength can use it.”
“From what Ingrid’s told me,” Lasgol explained, “it takes strength and technique. When you nock the arrow, you must move in a certain way and pull the string very hard at the same time. It has to be as tense as that, because it’s designed to release at very short distances. The shorter the distance, the tighter it needs to be for the arrow to penetrate.”
“One day she’ll release an arrow by accident,” Erika said sadly, “and then you’ll see...”
Lasgol shook his head. “Anyone else, sure, but Ingrid? I doubt it very much.”
Master Ivar had put on a strange crossed belt, and from his back there poked six sticks each of which ended in a small target. It looked as though there were six little suns around him. In his hands he was carrying a long, robust-looking staff.
“Now that really is curious,” said Luca.
Erika was deeply interested. “Let’s see what they do. It looks fun.”
“I don’t think anything Master Ivar does is fun,” Lasgol commented, “but anyway...”
Ingrid came up to the Elder with the bow in her hands.
“Ready?” he asked her.
“Yes, Master.”
“Remember what we’ve been practicing. Follow your instincts, don’t over-think your movements.”
“All right, Master.”
Ivar measured the distance to her chest with the staff. “Keep this distance apart.”
They began the exercise. The Elder took a quick step forward and tried to hit Ingrid in the right leg. With an incredibly rapid movement, she slid to one side and released. Ivar’s staff failed to hit her on the leg, but her shot, on the other hand, hit the target by the Elder’s right leg. Like lightning, she nocked a new arrow, but Ivar gave her no chance to breathe and delivered a blow to her left leg this time. Instinctively she jumped to let the staff pass under her and released from mid-air. She hit the
center of the target by the Elder’s left leg.
“Wow that’s incredible!” Erika cried.
“It’s pure genius, that’s what it is!” Luca agreed.
Ivar moved sideways and feinted, then delivered a sharp blow with his staff at Ingrid’s right arm. She started to move but saw the trick and corrected herself. She leaned forward with striking flexibility, and the staff grazed her arm without hitting it. An arrow flew from her bow and hit the target by the Elder’s right arm.
“I’d say incredible, pure genius and fantastic!” Lasgol said.
Erika and Luca nodded, open-mouthed.
The exercise went on. Master Ivar attacked with his staff. Ingrid dodged the blows and released at the targets without letting the staff hit her and without missing a shot. She was a pure spectacle of coordination, agility and marksmanship. Master Ivar began to put more pressure on her, with faster movements and more complex attacks. Suddenly she missed a target. She had released when she was very much off her balance, as she was dodging an attack to her head. Ivar attacked again, even faster, and this time she could not avoid him. The Staff struck the bow hard and it fell to the ground, leaving her disarmed.
“Retreat movement,” he ordered.
Ingrid took two somersaults backwards over her head with impressive agility and moved away from the Elder. Ivar made as if to pursue, but it was already too late. By then she had turned and was running into the forest like a gazelle pursued by a wolf.
Luca was shaking his head. “Astonishing.”
“Spectacular,” Erika said. She was clapping.
“This evening at dinner,” Lasgol said, “we’ve got to ask Ingrid how she managed to do all that. It was amazing...”
