Abyssal Arcanist [Chapter 11]

Hey peeps!

Here is the next chapter. I hope you all enjoy! (Also, everyone prepare their bodies for an awkward kickstarter video... derp.)

Shami

CHAPTER ELEVEN

NOT AS THEY APPEAR

“Well,” I said, “Professor Helmith showed me this archery style in my dreams.” I shook out my hand and rotated my shoulder. “I didn’t think I could learn things like how to use a bow, but I guess I was wrong.”

The others stared at me, their eyebrows raised. A few of them eventually nodded and accepted my lie. Why wouldn’t they? No one knew what I did in my dreams with Helmith. And why would I lie about this?

The truth was… I didn’t want them to think I wasn’t in control of the situation. If Deimos’s soul was influencing me, then I was a risk no one would trust. But if I learned archery from Helmith, no one would be worried.

“Professor Helmith told me all about her tutelage in your dreams,” Jijo said. He stroked his chin. “But I was unaware she was skilled in such archaic archery styles…”

Raaza snapped his fingers and turned away from me. “I need to figure out how to learn things while I’m sleeping… I’ll fall behind at this rate.” He stared at the distant cloud targets, his eyes set in a harsh glare.

The only people who didn’t seem to readily believe me were Sorin and Knovak.

It was painfully clear that Knovak thought something was wrong. He eyed me, his lips pressed tight, but he said nothing. He took hold of his bow and returned to his archery.

And I didn’t dare look at Sorin for longer than a second or two. I avoided making eye contact at all costs. If we locked our gazes, he would see right through me. Sorin would know. He just would.

And he would be so disappointed.

Jijo, thankfully, stepped forward to save me from this awkward moment. He held up his hands. “Now, I know that was exciting, but we must focus on our studies.” The professor waved his arm, and the cloud targets lifted upward, ascending at a quick pace until they were about twenty feet in the air. “Jarmakee is for firing arrows downward. It’s useless if your target is above you.”

Jijo’s nimbus dragon darted through the air, zipping over to the equipment stand and gathering more arrows. Before I even finished taking a breath, the dragon slithered through the sky and made his way to each student in class.

Cirrus dropped off two more arrows for everyone.

Then the dragon swooped over to his arcanist’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Cirrus,” Jijo said.

“Of course.” The dragon his little head high, his bright blue scales a dazzling sight in the light of the morning sun.

When I picked up the arrow and glanced upward, my gut twisted in a knot. Something about firing above me didn’t sit right. I tried to hold the bow the normal way—like the professor had demonstrated—but it was obvious my body thought that was terrible.

It was the equivalent of trying to push my hand into an open fire. My body anticipated terrible things, and tensed in preparation.

Sorin did everything as instructed. He pulled the drawstring to his chin, took aim, and then fired. His arrow broke a cloud, and then sailed in an arch until it hit the other side of the training field. With a frown, he glanced over to me.

I looked away and pretended to fidget with my second arrow. I watched him at the edge of my vision, waiting till he turned away before I did anything else.

The others in our class were busy with their own archery skills, no longer interested in whatever I was doing. Raaza successfully fired his bow several times. Nini nocked her arrow, but only after my brother encouraged her with a thumbs up.

“You can do it, my arcanist,” her reaper called out.

With a slight grin, she took aim and managed to swipe part of the cloud.

“This is ridiculous,” Nasbit muttered. He glanced up at the clouds and then glowered at his weapon. “I mean, they can’t fail me out of the Academy if I just refuse to do this one thing, can they?”

Phila nocked an arrow and fired. She seemed to have forgotten all about the professor’s speech about a steady back, and the importance of keeping her muscles taut. Her arrow didn’t even reach the clouds above us. It sailed in a tiny arch and plunked onto the grass, not even really puncturing the dirt.

Phila pouted.

Then she glared at her bow, took aim again, and to my amusement, she evoked wind. Phila was a coatl arcanist, after all. They were masters of air, at least according to Professor Helmith.

When Phila evoked the wind, it carried her arrow straight, guiding it faster and straighter than anyone else’s shot. The arrow pierced the cloud.

And then it kept sailing.

That was probably dangerous. Everyone stared, watching as it went.

When would it fall?

It took a few moments, but the arrow eventually tumbled back toward the mountains. I hoped there was no lone student or professor out in the trees beyond the training field. Getting hit by a random arrow would be a story, for sure. Perhaps an interesting obituary.

“That was amazing,” Phila said with a giggle.

Professor Jijo shielded his eyes from the sun with one of his hands. He stared at the distant trees as he said, “Now, Arcanist Hon, I did say we would work on evocation and weapons once we were familiar with the weapons themselves. Skipping a step in your training isn’t recommended. Familiarity with your bow is required to become a truly talented archer.”

Phila tugged on a few locks of her long hair. “Oh. Yes. You did say that.” She held her bow close. “I apologize, professor. I’ll attempt to learn the bow without magic first.”

Cirrus flew around, passing out more arrows. I wondered why he didn’t give us a whole bundle, but it occurred to me that the professor probably wanted to watch us closely—see how we improved with each shot. He didn’t want us to go too fast.

“Nasbit,” Phila said as she turned to him. “This is actually really fun.” She snuck a glance at the professor. When the man had gone closer to Raaza—far from her, she lowered her voice and added, “Maybe you should try it with your evocation.”

Nasbit slowly turned, his eyes narrowed into a sardonic glare. “Phila. I evoke rocks. This really isn’t my strong suit.” He frowned, his hate for this whole lesson washing off him in waves.

With another giggle, Phila walked over to Nasbit’s training area. She stepped close to him, and even reached out to grab his bow with her own hands, wrapping an arm around Nasbit’s back.

“W-What are you doing?” Nasbit said, cringing, his face growing pink.

“I’m helping.” Phila held the bow with him, trying to angle it upward.

It was rather awkward, to be honest. Nasbit clearly didn’t know what was happening, and he just stared at Phila as though she was going to bite him at any second.

Phila either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“See, hold it up, and just pull the drawstring. It’s fun! I was surprised.” She smiled as she finally looked over at him. “I think you’ll like it, too. Come—we’ll do it together.”

“I-I can do it myself.” Nasbit swallowed hard, but he didn’t really fight to get out of Phila’s hold. She eventually acquiesced and released him, but Nasbit never relaxed.

Phila pointed to the clouds. “I know you can do it, Nasbit. If studying in your dreams can make Gray a good archer, then your proven ability to study and learn anything should help you here. I bet you’ll be the best archer in our class.” She clapped her hands together once, her smile genuine.

It was obvious to me that Nasbit didn’t know how to take any of this.

His face brightened to a new shade of red. He sputtered something, stared at his feet, and then stared at the cloud targets above. “I mean, I could, yes, study, but…” He rolled his hand, struggling to find words.

“Just try,” Phila said.

Nasbit, backed into a corner, nocked an arrow, and then pulled on the drawstring. He brought his hand to his chin, but his shoulders quaked. Was the strain of the bow too much? Or was he just thatnervous? I couldn’t tell.

Nasbit shot his arrow.

It sailed up…

And just barely reached the bottom of the cloud target.

Then it tumbled back down to the training field, landing limply on the emerald grass.

“See?” Phila softly clapped. “That wasn’t hard.”

Nasbit chuckled, his face still as red as before.

“You shouldn’t move your hand,” Knovak called out to him, breaking his silence since class had started. “If you let your hand follow the string, you’re going to weaken your shot.”

Professor Jijo pointed to Knovak. “That’s correct.” With a curious smile, he asked, “But didn’t you say you weren’t familiar with archery?”

“Many members of my family practice,” Knovak muttered. “I watched them. I didn’t study it, but I attended a few competitions. I think I gleaned a thing or two.”

Everyone seemed like they were enjoying the lesson, even if at first they seemed like they would hate it. I wanted to enjoy the moment as well, but my thoughts continually slipped back to my apparent ability to fire a bow.

I had never learned an ancient form of archery.

Perhaps I should tell someone.

But who?

Professor Helmith was ill, her husband made it clear he wouldn’t allow any more harm to come to her because of me, and I didn’t know any experts on the abyssal hells or Death Lords. Who else was there to turn to?

Would the headmaster know what to do? He always seemed to go out of his way to help.

I raised my hand.

Professor Jijo snapped his attention to me instantly. “Yes, Arcanist Lexly?”

“Would you mind if I went back inside for a moment?” I rubbed at the base of my neck. “I want to speak with the headmaster about learning things in my dreams. I didn’t think it was possible, and I think I need to discuss it with him.”

“You discuss things with the headmaster?” Jijo slowly lifted an eyebrow.

“Gray has been in a lot of trouble,” Knovak interjected. He lowered his bow. “I mean, for a student. Strange things happen to him all the time. I think he should go see the headmaster… If that’s what he wants.”

Jijo nodded once. “I see.” When he returned his attention to me, it was with a hard seriousness that hadn’t been there before. “If that’s the case, I will accompany you to the headmaster’s office.”

“Don’t you have class to teach?” I asked.

The professor snapped his fingers. His nimbus dragon flew from his shoulder and then landed in front of the other students.

“I will bear this burden,” Cirrus said, his tone all business. “Nothing will happen to our charges, my arcanist. I will instruct them with all my ability and heart.”

That was dramatic.

Sorin stood a little straighter. With a rhythmic cadence to speech, he proudly proclaimed, “In a class where arrows fly with grace, where bows are held in steady embrace, there lies a tale of students bold! They seek wisdom, their dreams unfold, they stood united, their hearts aflame, all seeking to acquire an archer’s name!” He held his weapon high in a theatrical display of learning, I supposed.

“You just came up with that?” Nini smiled as she spoke. “I couldn’t rhyme anything if my life depended on it.”

Thurin, from the edge of the field, shifted through the shadows. “My arcanist practices the art of wordplay. Soon, he will become a master.”

Raaza rolled his eyes.

The professor held out his arm and gestured to the Academy. “Come,” he commanded. “Let us walk together to the headmaster’s office. I have a few questions for you while we make the trek.”