The Author's Viewpoint

She stepped slightly behind him, watching his stance.

"Now, keep your shoulders relaxed. Don't force the draw. Let your body settle into it. Focus on the pattern of movement in the water. Most of those lake creatures surface on rhythm. Count the pause between ripples. When you see the distortion in the reflection, that's your signal. Don't aim at it, aim where it will be."

Tave adjusted his aim, breathing steady. He watched the lake surface. How the ripples gathered, how faint distortions broke the stillness.

The arrow shot forward, slicing the air with a sharp whisper.

Tave's gaze stayed locked on its path. Just as the lake creature burst upward from the water, the arrow crossed the distance in a blink—just a second too early. The creature leapt high, and the arrow passed just beneath it, vanishing into the water with a soft splash.

Aura's lips curled in a smile.

"That… was actually very good for a first attempt. The way you timed it, almost perfect. You have talent, Tave."

Tave winced slightly and lowered the bow. He didn't know how to deal with praise, especially when it came so freely. "Thanks," he muttered.

Aura laughed quietly beside him. "You're too hard on yourself, huh?"

She nudged his shoulder lightly. "That was a solid start. Let's go again. This time, we keep going until you hit something."

Tave raised the bow again, his fingers finding the string with a steadier rhythm this time. He inhaled, anchoring his breath as he tried to recall every detail of Aura's earlier instructions.

Aura stepped a little closer, her voice soft. Measured, like a melody only he could hear.

"Alright. Shoulders down, relax your grip. Don't strangle the bow, just guide it."

"Feel the tension settle in your back. That's your center, not your hands."

"Good. Now focus, watch the ripples. Count the rhythm. Remember, you're not aiming at the creature… You're aiming through the moment where it's going to be."

"You're reading motion. You're anticipating life."

Then, her voice lowered gently, "You're close. Just breathe. Trust your instincts."

Tave exhaled and released the string.

The arrow flew swift and silent—another clean shot. But again, the timing was just off. The lake creature burst out of the water a moment too late, and the arrow sliced through empty air before vanishing with a distant splash.

He gritted his teeth, silently cursing the miss.

But Aura's voice came instantly. "That was one percent better than before."

Tave blinked and looked at her.

"Good," she said with a small smile. "Only ninety-nine more tries, and that'll be one hundred percent."

He almost laughed.

One hundred attempts?

Honestly? That still sounded like a small price for mastery.

Yes, he told himself. Only a hundred. You can do this.

Tave tried again. And again. A few shots came close, just barely missing their mark. Each time the arrow zipped past the rising target, each time the water rippled just wrong.

By the twelfth shot, he was tightening his jaw, breathing slower. Trying to push down frustration.

This time, Aura stepped even closer behind him. Her hand gently reached forward, adjusting his grip, then sliding along his arm to reposition his elbow.

But before she could say anything, Tave tilted his head toward her. "Lady Aura, forgive me, but aren't you… just a little too close?"

Aura gave an exaggerated pout. "See? You should listen to your teacher if you really want to improve."

"That's... a very convenient excuse."

"Oh? So what, do you think I'm secretly trying to get close to you just so you'll melt for me?" she said. "Look at that. You're starting to sound very confident."

"That was your line, Lady Aura. Don't blame me for repeating it."

She laughed quietly, clearly enjoying the exchange.

Then her tone shifted, softening, returning to the rhythm of guidance. But this time, it was more intimate. Her voice lowered, her hand still resting lightly on his wrist.

"Now, align your sight with the ripple. Watch the distortion, not the surface. Let your arm follow your breath."

"Draw slowly. Let the power sit in your spine."

"Good… don't hold it too long. Let it go at the edge of your exhale."

"You feel that stillness? That's when you strike."

And somehow. He did feel it.

He focused. Every thought narrowed down to that single instant.

Then. He released.

The string snapped forward with a clean, perfect sound.

And this time, the arrow didn't miss.

It struck the creature mid-leap. Tave froze. Then smiled.

"See… I am the best teacher, aren't I?" Aura said proudly, watching his expression.

"You are," Tave replied, still grinning. "The best teacher I've ever had. I'm ridiculously lucky to get a lesson from someone like you. Honestly, I might be the luckiest person in the world."

Aura chuckled softly at that. "You'd be even luckier if you accepted my proposal."

Tave turned toward her. "I was starting to think last night's conversation was just a dream."

Aura's laughter was light, quiet, but unmistakably real. "Now," she said, stepping back a little, "let's raise the difficulty."

She winked. "You're a talented student. I'm going to enjoy this session."

Suddenly, the surface of the lake rippled again. Wider this time, more frantic. Multiple creatures began emerging at different points across the water, their movements erratic, unpredictable. No longer the easy-to-read pattern from earlier.

"They're surfacing too fast," Tave muttered.

"You'd get bored if it stayed easy," Aura replied calmly.

"Okay."

And with that, Tave returned to it. Arrow after arrow, focusing, adjusting, failing, learning. He spent hours like that, cycling through shots. He didn't know how many arrows he had loosed anymore. Dozens. Maybe more.

And yet… only ten had landed true.

But somehow, without realizing it, the hours had slipped past. The sun had already begun to dip, shadows lengthening along the edge of the forest.

He had been there the entire afternoon.

What surprised him wasn't how long he'd trained. It was how effortless it had felt. Because Aura had made it so. Her guidance was constant, but never overbearing. Every word carried weight, spoken with calm clarity. She broke things down in a way that felt intuitive, as if she could see precisely where his form faltered, exactly which instinct needed correcting.

She didn't stop talking, but somehow, never wasted a word.

Everything she said mattered, and it worked. She saw through his flaws like glass and knew exactly how to correct them. It was the kind of training people would kill to receive.

Archery, from someone like Aura, the fourth strongest Imperial Knight in the entire floating kingdom.

Sometimes she laughed—light and easy—and those moments eased the strain in Tave's arms, let him forget the soreness building in his shoulders, the fatigue lining his fingers.

And before he even knew it…

He had forgotten the weight of the day.

Tave loosed his final arrow, the string humming as it snapped forward. He lowered the bow slowly, breath steadying, muscles worn. As he turned toward Aura, the last rays of the sun caught in her blonde hair. Its golden hue now dimmed, softened by the approaching twilight.

"Let's hunt some monsters and have dinner with whatever we catch tonight," she said, smirking. "What do you think?"

"You do realize humans need more rest than elves, right?"

She stepped forward and tapped a finger firmly against his chest. "No whining. We don't stop until you collapse."

Tave sighed with a chuckle. "Alright, teacher… I'm in."

"Good," she replied with a grin, ruffling his hair as if he were a misbehaving student. "I like that spirit. Now follow me."

Tave narrowed his eyes. "You're treating me like a child."

She hummed a note under her breath and gave a wink. "That's how you look to me."

With that, she turned and began walking toward the tree line.

Tave stored his bow and followed. The Imperial Knight's figure moved ahead with graceful ease. But then she paused, glancing back over her shoulder.

"Tave," she said. "Follow me."

And then her body surged with elemental force and in an instant, she vanished into the darkening forest with a burst of speed.

Tave felt his blood stir. His senses sharpened. A grin crept across his face as he bolted forward, feet pounding against the earth.

Aura was heading deeper into the forest now.

And this time. It was going to be fun.