Silent Hobbies

[Maeth 53]

 

3rd of The Deep Cold, 283 S.A.

A single elfess draws in sharp breaths as she draws back her longbow's string. The yew and bone that makes up the arms of the weapon creak under the weight of the pull. An exhale pushes from her as her hand loosens, the arrow splitting the air with a gentle whistle as it plants itself deep into the target of Caras Siol's training ground. Her presence invites the patience and calm needed with archery, but her mind is a storm. She knocks another arrow as her mind wanders...

273 S.A.

The same elfess, but younger, brighter. She smiles as she is handed a small arsenal worth of weapons, tools, and congratulations. A banner is placed on her back, a symbol of the Sunlit Covenant. Her smile is beaming against flame that alight a small space. The comforts of home and purpose overtake her. 

"Maeth?.." 

A voice calls out echoing through her thoughts as she is ripped from the thought back into the training ground. Her hand loosens as another arrow splits the thought from her, stabbing into the target with a sickening thud. She closes her eyes as her breath quickens. A drip of discordant moisture runs from her bow down the sides of her face. She steadies her breathing. Another arrow finds its way to the string. 

 

275 S.A.

Pain shoots across her face as her legs are lifted higher and higher, before she is scattered to the ground holding her side. Her eyes flow across silhouettes in the moment as she grunts taking back up her shield. She works her way back to her feet, holding it forward. The symbol of Xan spattered with her blood on its metal as she sturdies herself with a mighty cry.

"Maeth!"

*THUCK* Another shot finding its purchase. Her arm instinctively taking another. The draw of the bow is met with more whines from the wood. She winces as her tired arm struggles against the power needed to pull its arms back

She's now kneeled. The light silhouette before her speaks as she breathlessly vows herself. Her chin is high, held with purpose. She stands and bows deeply before turning to an happy echo of several voices 

"Maeth." 

Potential energy turns to movement as the arrow reacts. It glides through the air with a gentle sound before planting itself another hit. A few more breaths fill her lungs before she grunts pulling back another readied stance. Her eyes narrow weighted by racing thoughts and physical exertion. Quaking takes over her shoulder as she tries in vain to steady it against the demands her muscles release. She endures.

282 S.A

Sitting before a smaller frame. A blue silhouette as her head hangs. Her chest is tight with confliction as she grips for some sense of composure. The silhouette embraces her and softly speaks

"It is better to save and innocent life than it is to take a guilty one. It is better for the soul...so save who you can..."

Her eyes welt with tears as her focus becomes fuzzy, the target becoming nothing more than a blurry mix of colors in her vision. She blinks to cure it in vain. Her breath is exhumed broken as her fingers loosened from the string. The arrow flies but clatters against the stone wall, snapping under the transfer of its energy. Hearing her failure, she shoulders the bow. Her hands meeting her face, rubbing out unruly drops of salty water. She walks towards the target to collect her arrows

"Perhaps that is enough for today..."

[MarquisAlex 369]

The maxim of Professor Albus Henrik Brian Amador and Aurelia of Tolta lives on in those who choose to carry it.

 

Almost three generations have passed.

The world has become a darker place.

 

But Hope can be found even in the darkest of times...

...if one only remembers to carry a light.