《The Lonely Scout》CHAPTER 3: PREPARATION
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Elven Huntress
Fallen Jungle
53rd of Cycle 2, 1015
There’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity. This boy passed that line a long time ago, and every action he took was stupider than the last one. Even adult elves wouldn't dare approach a man-eater, yet this boy just waltzed right up to one and plucked a broken bow from right under its nose. He even had the gall to smile at it as he walked away.
Speaking of that bow... isn’t that... oh my god. That’s Jason’s bow. Jason had been missing from the village for a few days, and we all expected that he probably wouldn’t come back, but... damn. I closed my eyes and put my hands together in prayer. “May your soul find peace in the hands of Freya, Jason.”
When I opened my eyes I saw the boy looking around frantically, searching for something. Had he heard me? Why did I say that prayer out loud? I climbed higher up the tree and hid behind the branches while he started walking towards my tree menacingly.
Had this all been a ruse? Was he waiting for me to slip up so he could find my exact location and attack me? I held my breath as he took another step closer. He stalked around the tree, and I felt like a horned rabbit hiding from a grey panther, then he grabbed onto one of the vines.
He’s gonna climb up and kill me!
My heart was racing so fast I thought it was going to come out of my mouth. I drew my bow and said another prayer to Freya in my head.
Then he stopped, yanked the vine off the tree, and started wrapping it around the shaft of the broken bow, tying the two ends together.
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I let out my breath as I lowered my bow. So he was just looking for a vine then, thank Freya.
Wait no! Why was I so relieved that he didn’t attack me? Did I really think that this boy could kill me? The lack of sleep really must've been getting to me... I want to go home. But I couldn't, especially not after this boy took Jason’s bow. For now, I would observe him, and come nighttime, when he slept like a log again, I’d snatch the bow and go back home to make my report.
Yes, I just needed to wait, there was no need to take unnecessary risks. It wasn't that I was terrified of this young boy for some odd reason. No... no, it definitely wasn't because of that.
Dave
Fallen Jungle
53rd of Cycle 2, 1015
Aright! I had acquired my first weapon in this weird world. I didn't know whether it was the horned rabbit or the Hypno-plant that made me realize it, but this definitely was not earth.
I didn't have enough time to sit and ponder about how I got here right now, but it was definitely a topic to consider for the future. I took one of the arrows in my hand and drew the bow towards a nearby tree.
I loosed the arrow, and missed, badly to the right. I drew another arrow and fired again, this time missing wide left. I fired the rest of the arrows and the results were... less than optimal. Only one of the arrows managed to hit the tree and it was lodged into it at an angle.
Should I return the bow to the plant?
The arrow that hit the tree had done a lot more damage than I expected it to, and it took a good heave to dislodge it. After some careful inspection of the arrows, I found some strange inscriptions engraved onto the shaft, and that's when I had a realization that should’ve hit me a lot sooner.
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There were other people in this jungle. The bow was proof of that, but the inscriptions put the nail in the coffin. No other creature cared about vanity enough to carve into their weapons. What if this person wasn’t alone? Where were his friends? If they found me with their missing friend's bow, would they put two and two together and kill me on sight?
I shelved all of these questions in my mind and got back to my training regimen. No use speculating about what could be, I might not even live to find another person here. I drew the bow again and set a goal to keep firing arrows at this tree until I was good enough to hit half my shots consistently.
An hour of training later and I suddenly started firing much more accurately. It wasn’t a slow build-up, but more of a jump in efficiency between the last two volleys. Last time I had hit only three shots out of ten, but this time I hit seven, with three near misses.
Was it just luck? It didn’t feel like it. Nocking the arrow, drawing, then releasing felt so much more natural this time around. I gathered up the arrows and started again.
This time I hit eight shots.
There’s no way I got that good in such a short time. There’s something really suspicious going on here.
Well whatever, as long as it helps me I shouldn’t question it too much. After another hour of shooting, I was landing all ten shots every time, so I decided to move on to some real targets.
“Let the hunt begin!” I said and pumped my bow into the air before reddening up to my ears in shame. Let’s never do that again.
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the Mediator
Award-winning rock musician Kris Maya had just held a ground-breaking concert, with an arena packed with his most die-hard fans. His songs that contemplated the human condition: desires, love, pain, loss, fantasy and reality, and his philosophy towards life have garnered a great number of people to follow his every move and as he strummed the last chord that signaled the end of his song, he stumbled in pain and collapsed. With a smile, he closed his eyes on the curtains of his final concert in this life. As the applause of his show turned to become murmurs of worry and disbelief, he was happy and excited. Still, he felt that he was ready and he was anticipating his return to the world where all his past mistakes left a grueling and bloody mark on its history. This world that he filled with his music had taught him many lessons. In Earth, the power of music served as his gateway to learning. When he returns to his former world, his overwhelming power of magic will teach others the same lessons; the bloodshed being the only difference. It was now time to pay it forward.
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