Taking Aim

Alya had spent the past day on the small shooting range the people at Hopkins Commune had cobbled together. Originally she wanted to aim using her soul vision, but she had no humans to shoot at during the time and it would mean she would not know whether her target was behind a wall. Alya could still not use her soul vision and her blue eye at the same time. As if the soul vision only worked for the eyes in her head, she could switch between seeing nothing but souls or seeing through the eye in her hand but not the souls.

Now, she finally figured out how she could do it. Holding the bow in her left and drawing with her right hand. If she held onto the arrow with her thumb, index and middle finger and lifted the other two, it allowed her blue eye to be positioned right beside the arrow. Aiming with her vision from this new angle was difficult for a few shots, but she adjusted quickly. She had already regained her confidence and started using the magic she had once learned.

The first spell she ever learned to shoot could have been described as a simple hardening spell. It allowed her to shoot harder, but pull the string of the bow the same distance. Especially using the worn long bow they had given Alya, this was the first spell she needed to go over.

At first, spells always appeared infinitely complicated. Personally, Alya had to think about the material, the woven strings and the small growth rings of the wood. She imagined every single part stretching in a certain direction, this alone took about a minute. Now, she had to quickly imagine the string and wood becoming more resistant to bending at the same time as she let go.

After a couple tries it worked. She could, like before, just pull the bow normally, let go and suddenly the string would create a force larger than it should have. Once the image was clear, it only acquired a moderate amount of training to allow instantaneous casting. This was also the reason why mages would train spells with similar traits. If one had the ability to cool down a soup, the same person should be able to turn anything into ice after a little training.

The next day, she went over a couple other spells she remembered. At this point, her old accuracy had been fully regained.

Han watched the newcomer shoot in satisfaction, "Miss Alya, do you think you're ready for a challenge?" He shouted.

She put the bow over the back of her wheeled chair and drove in Han's direction, "If it helps."

"You will be shooting a coachman."

It appeared that they really did not trust Alya. It was her third day and she was now positioned on a hill close to the road to shoot the driver of a carriage, who had been following the street that lead to multiple cities further north, including Kyrna, the city she had fled from a few days prior.

Alya waited for a long time, she had watched the small soul slowly get bigger in the distance until it turned into the path on which she was positioned. The soul itself was blue-violet, another color which Alya could add to the category of magic she could not categorize. She wanted to know what kind of spells he used, but knew it would be best if he was unable to cast anything before he died.

He would die. The thought alone drew Alya in. The sound of the wind rustling through trees and bushes, the squealing of birds, all sound slowly faded away. Seeing through her blue eye, her environment had become blurry and gray. Only one thing, in the middle of everything, was important.

The man sitting on the coach was old. He had gray hair and wore a black suit. He was not hiding his importance. Neither did his carriage. If it had not been followed for days without anyone leaving it, one could have thought the king was travelling inside. The outer wood was beautifully carved into an elegant pattern of feathers and leaves. Small curtains were closed behind glass windows.

"Confident, huh? Good." Alya whispered to herself.

If she missed, she would run. Only, she would not. She breathed in and drew her arrow. The string was pulled back, the wood bend, but it did not want to. The man moved at a steady pace. It was obvious where he would be when Alya's arrow arrived. He looked around, checking for danger.

Alya let go, the wood suddenly used all of its power to force itself back to the position it belonged in and the arrow flew. Straight from where she stood, it sailed into the man's predicted position. It pushed through the air without deviating from the targeted point.

With a short thump, like a single step of a horse on a paved road, the arrow struck into his head. Alya could feel a sense of pleasure flowing through her body. The result was satisfying, finally she had done good.

The horses had continued moving, until multiple men started running towards the carriage and blocked their path with spears and swords. They ripped open the door and looked inside, but found nothing.

Alya could faintly hear their conversations, "Let's take it back to the hamlet." Using leashes, the men moved the horses and thus the carriage down the road.

She also slowly rolled her way back, it was time to garner her well-deserved reputation.