CHAPTER 8: The Falling Star
The echoes of the triple-split shot still hung in the air, but the silence that followed was quickly filled by the bitter skepticism of the noble students.
"A fluke!" Christy yelled, her voice breaking the spell. "There is no way a Commoner has that kind of mana control. The wind must have carried those arrows. It was luck, nothing more!"
She screamed refusing to believe, as stupid as her words were it seemed to convince the nobles around her.
Azest looked at the target, then at Louisa. She wanted to believe it was skill, but the sheer impossibility of a Commoner outshooting a Royal Guard candidate was hard to swallow.
"Was it?" Azest asked softly.
"Was truly luck?"
Louisa saw the narrow-eyed suspicion creeping back into the crowd. She forgot she needed to keep a low profile but she just got caught up in the moment. She needed to remain a "nobody" for a little longer.
She let out a long, weary sigh and lowered her bow. Her predatory gaze vanished, replaced once again by that wide-eyed, innocent mask.
"Maybe," Louisa murmured, her voice becoming shy.
"My hand was shaking quite a bit."
To "prove" it was a fluke, Louisa nocked another arrow. This time, she didn't breathe with the wind. She didn't time her heartbeat. She gripped the string too tightly and released with a clumsy, amateurish flick.
THUD.
The arrow didn't hiss. It wobbled pathetically through the air for a mere three feet before dropping into the dirt, kicking up a small, embarrassing cloud of dust.
An uproar of laughter ripped through the range. Christy doubled over, her dark hair falling over her face as she shrieked with delight.
"I knew it! Look at her!!"
"Look at how pathetic she is"
Even Azest felt a wave of disappointment. She let out a small, suppressed chuckle.
"It's been a long time since you practiced, hasn't it? I can see that."
To show Louisa how a "true" archer handled a bow, Azest stepped forward. With a grace that looked like dancing, she nocked a silver arrow, drew, and released in one fluid motion. The arrow streaked across the range, striking the second ring of the target—just hair-breadths from the center.
The nobles broke into thunderous applause.
"That's a Royal strike!" the boy behind Christy shouted.
"Not like that nobody, your nothing compared to us royal"
"Your weak"
The mocking from the crowd echoed through the shooting range, instantly triggering something in Louisa.
Memories flashed before her eyes, her pupils dilated, screams, tears as she saw herself at the center of fire, voices echoed in her mind.
"Your weak"
"Your nothing"
"What can you do about common little Elf watch them burn"
*SCREAMS*
For a second something broke in her, she no longer wanted to restrain herself. She bent down and retrieved the muddy arrow from the dirt. The laughter died down into bored murmurs as the students turned away, losing interest in the "clumsy" girl. But Azest stayed.
She watched as Louisa's posture shifted again. The shyness vanished. Louisa's spine became a rigid line of steel.
"Don't hurt yourself, Miss..." Azest paused.
"What is your name again?"
"It's Louisa," she replied. The voice wasn't shy anymore. It was dull, flat, cold almost frightening.
Louisa released.
The sound was a sharp crack, like a whip breaking the sound barrier. The muddy arrow went perfectly straight—a line of dark light that struck the target at the direct center with such force that the wood groaned.
"Impressive" Azest remarked, though her blue eyes sharpened. She watched as Louisa's hand blurred to her back, drawing another arrow from the quiver in a movement so fast it was almost invisible.
"Luck doesn't strike twice, Comm....!" Christy yelled from the sidelines, her voice shrill with desperation, but immediately kept quiet as Azest gave her threatening look that's shook her.
Louisa didn't blink. She released. The second arrow hummed with such velocity that it seemed to glow. It struck the nock of the first arrow, splitting the wood clean down the middle with a jagged rip and embedding itself in the exact same hole.
"What sorcery is this ?" Azest asked, her voice hushed seeing she was about to go for another triple shot from before.
"No sorcery," Louisa answered, her tone turning ice-cold.
"Just skills."
Then, Louisa went into a frenzy.
She became a whirlwind of blue and gold. Arrows left her bow in a rhythmic, terrifying cadence—thrum-thwack, thrum-thwack. She didn't miss. She didn't even seem to aim. She filled her target until the crimson center was nothing but a mass of splintered fletching. When her own target could take no more, she began to move.
She drifted down the line, her bow canted at impossible angles, filling the targets of the surrounding students. Every single shot found the dead center of every target she passed. Noble students scrambled out of her way as arrows hissed past their ears, landing with surgical precision.
Finally, Louisa returned to her original station. Her target was a ruin of wood and feathers. Suddenly, the target pulsed with a light pink glow—the academy's automatic reset spell. The spent arrows vanished into mana-dust, and the target floated backwards, distancing itself by another fifty yards—a range few students had ever mastered.
Azest stepped forward, her eyes wide.
"Only a very few worthy people have been able to make that shot, are you sure your up to the task Louvisa"
"How many times must we go over this?" Louisa's voice was a low, predatory growl that made the hair on Azest's neck stand up.
"It's Louisa."
She spun.
In a blur of motion, Louisa put her left leg forward and slanted her right leg behind, her body low to the ground. She slanted the bow horizontally and drew the final arrow. A violent yellow glow erupted from the arrowhead, and the air began to swirl around her in a localized gale.
"Starlet Bolt" Louisa said her voice low.
She released. The arrow spiraled through the air like a horizontal tornado. When it collided with the target, the world turned yellow.
BOOM.
A localized explosion shattered the target into kindling. The shockwave rolled back over the range, tossing Azest's silver hair into a tangled mess. Fresh targets appeared instantly to replace the destroyed one, but the range remained silent.
"Who is this girl?" someone whispered.
"How can a Commoner achieve this?"
Louisa turned to Azest and bowed her head.
"Thank you, Azest."
As Louisa began to walk away, Azest collapsed to her knees, her legs giving out from the sheer weight of the mana she had just felt.
"Who... who are you?"
Louisa paused, looking over her shoulder. "I'm just a nobody."
"Your skills are not ordinary!" Azest yelled, her voice cracking.
"How did you achieve this?"
"I grew up in the Northern Borders of Oriane," Louisa said.
"That forest?" Azest shouted. "Nobody lives there! It's a death trap!"
"How would you know?" Louisa yelled back, her yellow eyes flashing with fierce pride.
" All you Royals care about is your own skin. You all have never for once thought about those you see below you, those without the privilege you have. I learned the bow at eight because in the North, if you miss, you die."
She looked at the trembling Azest one last time. "Don't worry. You'll definitely grow stronger than you've ever imagined. If you survive what's coming."
Louisa walked out of the compound, her footsteps silent, leaving behind a field of broken targets and shattered egos.