Abyssal Arcanist [Chapter 10]

Hey peeps!

Hopefully you enjoy.

Shami

CHAPTER TEN

JARMAKEE

Professor Jijo’s nimbus dragon leapt from his shoulders and shot through the air. He flew low to the ground, the emerald grass tickling the scales of his underbelly. Then Cirrus slowed his flight and dragged some of his talon-like claws through the dirt, creating six firing lines for everyone.

Once finished, Cirrus glided through the air, returning to his arcanist within just a few seconds.

He was fast. Faster than any creature I had seen before. Perhaps his small size made it easier to whip around.

Jijo patted his eldrin. “Thank you, Cirrus. Now then. Everyone pick a firing line and stand there.”

We all complied, but it was obvious that only Raaza and I were excited. I jumped into position, and Raaza took a line next to me. He held his bow at the ready, and even flashed me a smile.

Sorin whispered with Nini until he took a spot on the other side of me. Nini went to the line on Sorin’s other side, her hands shaking. She didn’t seem to like her bow at all.

Phila held hers like it smelled bad, and Nasbit had a permanent frown.

“When firing a bow, you need to learn the importance of back tension,” Jijo said matter-of-factly. He walked over, grabbed a bow off the rack for himself, and then picked up a basket full of arrows around the backside. As he walked over to us, he smiled. “Your back muscles, especially the ones around your shoulder blades, are the most important when firing these types of bows.”

His nimbus dragon leapt off his shoulder and gracefully glided to the grass. Cirrus smiled as his held his serpentine head high as his arcanist spoke.

Professor Jijo removed his shirt in one quick motion.

Phila gasped, but stifled her noise a moment later.

The professor had several runes across his skin, most of which were black. They were in bizarre, vein-like designs. It almost looked rotted, but at the same time, the lines matched up with the grooves of his muscles.

And his physique was rather defined.

Professor Jijo turned so that his back faced us. He held his bow, and tensed the muscles of his back, perfectly demonstrating what he had been talking about.

“See?” Jijo rotated his shoulder slightly to show us the tension. “Now, there are two ways to draw your bowstring. You can pull to your chin, or you can pull past your head. For today, keep one arm straight, and with your draw arm, pull your bowstring until you can touch your chin with the side of your thumb.”

Everyone watched, completely silent, as the professor did everything he said. He drew the bow in one quick movement.

“When aiming,” Jijo muttered, his eyes on the distant cloud bubbles he had created, “you must make a conscious effort to hold the bow at full draw using only your back muscles. Let your arm, shoulder, and hand muscles become as relaxed as possible.”

Sorin glanced down at his bow. He effortlessly lifted it up and then drew the bowstring. When Nini saw him trying, she did the same, but her arms shook with effort.

I held my bow tightly in my hand. My eagerness to try surprised me. Since when had bows become so fascinating?

Jijo had no trouble keeping the bow at full draw, even as he continued his lecture. “Back tension is important because it stabilizes the shot. The stability of your back muscles surpasses that of your arm and shoulder muscles due to their shorter length, inherent strength, and proximity to the spine.”

I rubbed my shoulders. Most of what he was saying was interesting, mostly because I had never thought about it before.

Professor Jijo loosed the arrow.

It sailed through the air and struck a cloud bubble with ease. The cloud burst outward from the force of the arrow in a satisfying puff.

“You should hold the arrow with two of your fingers,” Jijo said as he walked over and passed out two arrows to each of us. “Your pointer finger and your middle finger. Aim with both eyes open, and just attempt to strike a single cloud.”

His nimbus dragon waved his tail around until the cloud target reformed in the exact same position as before.

Jijo motioned to our targets. “Go ahead, then. Fire a single arrow. Take it slow, if needed.”

Raaza and Sorin both held up their bows and nocked an arrow. Raaza pulled back, his thumb to his chin, and immediately fired. His arrow shot off between the cloud targets, a complete miss. He cursed under his breath and grabbed his second arrow.

Sorin, on the other hand, drew the bowstring back and waited. He took a solid thirty seconds to aim and then fire. His arrow, at least, swiped the edge of a cloud target, puffing out misty vapors. Sorin smiled and then turned to me.

“Did you see that, Gray?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Impressive.”

“I might be a natural.” Sorin glanced over at Nini. “It’s not as hard as it looks. You can do this.”

Nini poked at the rim of her glasses. “I don’t know. My eyes aren’t the greatest…”

“Your glasses help with that. Go on. I’m sure you’ll be great.”

Emboldened by his encouragement, Nini sheepishly smiled. She picked up her arrow, carefully nocked it, and then held it with two fingers, just as Jijo had instructed. When she drew the bowstring, she struggled, but not for long. Once her back was straight, and her muscles tense, she managed to hold the draw long enough to aim.

With her tongue caught between her lips, Nini fired her bow.

The arrow sailed over and just barely missed one of the cloud targets. It was so close to the cloud, a wisp of white vapor twirled away from the target as the arrow shot by.

“Almost,” Sorin said as he slapped one of his knees. “I told you! Not so hard. You can do this.”

Raaza—who had nocked an arrow and aimed while I hadn’t been paying attention—fired his second arrow. He struck a cloud target in the side, exploding half of it away in a delightful puff. The professor reformed it afterward.

“Very good,” Jijo said. “C’mon now. Everyone else try. The bow won’t hurt you.”

Nasbit sighed. “He hasn’t seen me practice with weapons before… I could hurt myself in a pillow fight.”

My brother rubbed his hands together. Then he glanced over to me and lifted an eyebrow. “Gray? Is something wrong? You haven’t tried yet.”

My heart beat harder than before. I picked up my bow, nocked an arrow, held it out with one arm, and then grabbed the bowstring just as the professor had said. But something didn’t feel right. When I drew the string, my body screamed at me—like I was doing something wrong.

I lowered the bow, my muscles practically twitching in anticipation.

What was wrong?

I felt restless, like rolling around in bed, unable to find a comfortable position to fall asleep. Something about my stance, my hold, and the arrow didn’t feel right.

Nothing felt right.

Sorin returned his attention to Nini—to cheer her on as she drew her second arrow—and while everyone was seemingly preoccupied, I just stared at the bow in my hand. Although the professor had made it very clear what I should be doing, I didn’t want to fire the arrow using his method.

Instead…

I held up the bow with one arm, and then reached behind my head with my draw arm in order to grab the bowstring. I felt bizarre doing it—but it also felt right. And instead of grabbing the arrow with my pointer and middle finger, I grabbed it with my thumb.

Raaza stared at me in utter disbelief, his mouth hanging slightly open.

I looked ridiculous. I knew I did.

What in the abyssal hells was I doing?

But when I drew the bowstring—pulling until my hand reached the back of my head—I felt confident. More than confident. I felt in my element. I knew what I was doing. The target seemed easy.

I let loose my arrow.

And my shot struck the cloud bubble dead center. The target exploded in a blast of misty vapor, swirling around.

“What was that?” Sorin asked, bewildered. He stared at me, then glanced at the fizzled cloud, and then back to me. “Gray? Did you just fire that bow… from behind your head?”

Everyone stopped what they were doing to glance over. I didn’t blame them. Even I wanted to gawk at my strange archery display. What had I done? Was it a fluke?

Raaza snapped his fingers and then pointed at the second arrow resting by my feet. “Do it again. C’mon. I wanna see it again.”

After a short exhale, I knelt and picked up the arrow. Then I held the bow out, and again, drew from behind my head. It just… felt more natural to do it this way. Drawing the bow with my arm in front of me didn’t seem right.

I nocked the arrow, drew the string, and then took aim.

After a single breath, where I steadied myself, I fired. The arrow flew through the air and struck a second cloud bubble square in the center. My eyes widened and I held my breath. What was this?

Professor Jijo, his attention on the cloud, slowly panned his gaze over to me. “What was your name?” he asked, his voice low.

“Gray,” I said as I lowered my bow. “Gray Lexly.”

“I see.” Jijo walked over, his expression set to something unreadably neutral. “Gray Lexly—I thought you said you had never fired a bow.”

“I haven’t.” I shook my head. “I swear.”

The professor stopped once he stood in front of me. He motioned to the bow, and then to the cloud targets. “You fired those arrows using jarmakee archery.”

“What is that?” Sorin asked.

Raaza stepped closer. “Yeah. What he said. What is that? It’s real?”

“Jarmakee is an ancient form of archery used by the most skilled of dragon arcanists,” Jijo said, his attention still on the far cloud targets.

“But why?” Raaza flailed one arm behind his head. “Why would anyone fire an arrow like a lunatic with their arm all wonked out of position?”

Jijo returned his gaze to the class. His voice, distant in all regards, was almost too soft for me to hear correctly. “Jarmakee is the advanced style of archery used for firing down. You see, back tension is very important in archery, and if you lean over—say, while riding on a flying dragon—you will lose all the tension in your back. But, if you fire with your arm behind your head, you can maintain a taut back, even while leaning over in your saddle. Even while firing downward.”

No one said anything. When the wind rushed by, it howled, sending a shiver through half the class.

“Jarmakee was once also taught to castle defenders,” Jijo continued, his voice gaining more volume as he spoke. “They would lean over the castle walls and fire down on invaders. If they used the jarmakee style, they retained all their strength when firing.”

“I’ve never seen anyone fire like that,” Nasbit chimed in. “And I’ve been to many archery contests.” He nervously rubbed the length of his bow. “Are you sure it’s a real style?”

“It’s ancient, like I said.” Jijo stared at me, his expression hardening. “Ever since the use of crossbows and pistols became commonplace, all advanced forms of archery became obsolete. There’s no reason to teach jarmakee anymore. Firing a crossbow from a dragon’s back is much easier than firing an old-fashioned bow.”

My throat dried as I glanced down at my hands.

An ancient form of archery used by dragon arcanists? Although I didn’t want to admit it, I already knew why I had fired the arrow like I had.

Death Lord Deimos had been a sovereign dragon arcanist, and then became an abyssal dragon arcanist. He must’ve learned that archery style.

Which meant… the fragment of his soul was having an effect on me, and more than just dreams.