The Birth of a New Legend
A handsome boy is practicing archery. His target was a straw scarecrow with a cross on its chest.
"Focus on the cross, Little Brother," Aranea whispered as she poked her face next to the boy's left shoulder. "Keep your elbows up, don't shiver."
"I hear you, Sis."
Aranea smiled at the boy before looking at the scarecrow on the other end.
"Raise your bow a little, sweetheart. If your target is far enough, you can't aim directly but raise your aim a little. Feel the wind because it will affect the speed of your arrow."
The boy sighed slowly, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple.
"Now!"
Tsk!
Stab!
"Good job!" Aranea straightened her back as she rubbed the boy's head.
The boy was pouting because his arrow was not exactly in the center of the cross on the scarecrow, but slightly off to the right.