Flashback An Arrow in The Wind

[Lance Windhelm]

1st of Summer, 523

One week. Lance was going to dedicate an entire week to the learning of the short bow. It wasn’t going to be cheap, but he needed to learn something he can use out in the wild. Something that he could kill rabbits or deer with from a distance. Not to mention protecting himself from the unspeakable. Creatures of the forest. He had heard stories of monsters, things that could kill a man with a grasp. Large wolves and bears would be the least of the things he would have to worry about.

Lance had bought his own bow prior to the practice along with 20 arrows. That way he could learn his way around it with guidance. But the whole thing didn’t start like he thought it would. He was expecting them to show him the parts of the weapon, maybe practice drawing it back, but instead the instructor shouted at them, him and the people in the class, to run around the training area ten times.

Lance’s lungs burned. Sweat dripped down his brow and his clothes were starting to get damp. He had only ran for a few moments, but the fight summer sun beamed heat onto them all. It didn’t help he wasn’t in the greatest shape. His work let him sit there and play his music all he wanted. It wasn’t very demanding on his body. Now he was paying for it. The wind he inhaled was warm, but the constant in and out made it cool, burning the inside of his throat, at least that is what it felt like.

“Lets go, lets go!” The instructor yelled across the area.

The training area was almost a rectangle. On one side there was a line of dummies, on the other was the wall of the building. They ran that small area, creating a small oval on its inside.

Lance was the fifth person to finish. The ones ahead of him were pretty fit, and the other behind him where simply taking their time. Lance was trying hard to be there. Once they had finished the instructor told them to get on line, towards the targets. She didn’t instruct them to grab the bows, which laid in front of each of the targets.

“Bend down. Touch your toes.” The instructor barked. “It is important to stay limber, be warmed up before any exercise.”

Lance bent down to touch his toes. He could feel the stretch travel up his legs, through his butt. He had to bend his knees a bit to touch them strait on.

“Ok. I’m going to show you beginners the bow and it’s parts. Then we are going to practice drawing them. It is important not to release the bow if there is no arrows in it, you can fracture its limbs and make it unusable.” The instructor spoke as the class stopped stretching. “This is the bow string.” She ran her hand down the string of the bow, “attached is a bead. Above that is where you want to knock your arrow. The bow string connects to the string notch, those are on both limbs of the bow. You have your upper and lower limbs, and this is where you grip the bow.” She showed them how to hold it. “Just above your hand is where the arrow is going to sit. It’s called the arrow rest.” She knocked and arrow and showed the class how the arrow sat. “As you are looking towards your target, the part of the bow facing you is called the bow face, the other side, which is facing the target, is the back of the bow.” Her and guided the class as if she was teaching young-lings. “When you draw the bow, it should be one swift motion, then release. There is now sitting there and aiming. Trust yourself.”

The instructor stood in front of one of the targets. Her gaze was calm and expressionless. She pulled back and released an arrow that landed close to center on the dummy.

“When you grip the bow string, you use three fingers. One above the arrow, the other two below the arrow. Pull with the crooks of your fingers. Don’t grip with your whole hand, or with just your fingertips.” She said, knocked another arrow that she pulled from her quiver, showed the students how to place their fingers. Then with a quick draw she paused. “Pull the arrow back to the edge of your mouth, next to your cheek.” Then she released the arrow. It landed almost dead center. “Your turn. Turn to.”

Everyone picked up their bow. Lance picked up his and pulled an arrow from his quiver. He knocked it like she showed them. He pulled it back and aimed it towards the target. His arm strained, he paused.

“When you aim, you want the target about two inches above your arrow.” The instructor said.

Lance tried to put the target where she said then loosed the arrow. It landed short of the target.

“Good. Most of you are holding it before you fire it. I want you to pull and lose. That cord is much too heavy to hold it for too long.” The instructor said as she paced the line back and forth.

WC: 879

[Lance Windhelm]

The bow felt heavy in his extended arm, then pulling it back over and over for the last hour. His arm was starting to get tired. He would get used to it. After the day he was sure that his strength would start to increase. He knew it would time… and pain. Though it wouldn’t be a fun transition. Either way he needed to get stronger, weather it was using a dagger or a bow, it would benefit him no matter the situation.

“Pull back and release. Trust your instincts.” The instructor said.

Lance pulled and released. He has yet to have hit the target. It was the tick of lining up the shot and releasing. It was starting to bother him. How he kept missing, but he will eventually, he told himself. He pulled again and was just shy of the target.

Lance could feel the sweat trickling down his brow as he pulled the bow string back to his lip, amid quickly, and shot an arrow to the target. A solid hit in the center. The only thing he could think of was, “could I hit again?” as doubt crept into his mind. He quickly pulled another arrow from his quiver on his belt and knocked it on the string.

Pulling his bow back and aiming down the arrow for a split second before releasing it. He could feel the box bounce back into place, hear the strings quick release, and watched the arrow fly through the air, just to hit the target in the leg. He did hit the target, which was an accomplishment. Something better than what he had been doing a few shots prior.
“Aim a little higher. Take another second if you must after you lift.” The instructor said. “You don’t want to hold it back for too long because it can fatigue your arm too much if you do it often. Just keep that in mind every time you draw it.” She finished and moved on down the line to the next student.

The instructor was kind, and he couldn’t help but let his mind wonder on what her experiences were. If she had been in any combat situations or how many people she had killed. Not that it was something that was important, but just something he would like to know.

Lance drew the bow back. Felling it in his hands, how it conformed to his will. Then, almost as soon as he pulled it back, he took a second to aim. The center of the dummy was painted a red color, he aimed for it. Then loosed the arrow. This time the arrow hit the targets hip area. The arrow shaft vibrating after it smashed into the target.
“OK. Drop it the weapon and take a lap.” The instructor said.

They all dropped them and started to run around the compound. How this was relevant boggled his mind. But he thought maybe it had to do with muscle memory. If your body could do it when it was tired and when you were breathing hard, you would be more effective in a combat situation.

Lance felt the dirt under his boots. The warm summer air course through his hair and up on his arms. It felt good. His sweat was evaporating and the breeze did wonders to cool him down. But for as much as he was feeling cool when he made it back to his bow his shirt was just that much more wet from sweat and his grip on his bow was now starting to falter.

“Grab those arrows and get back on line.” The instructor said.

Lance dashed down the line, pulled the arrows out of the dummy and ran back to the firing line. He knocked an arrow. Drew back. Then fired. The arrow soaring through the air, smacked into the center of the target.

“Again?” He said aloud. Lance knocked another arrow. Pulled it back. Felt the bow in his hand, though slippery he held tight. Lined up the point and the target, then fired again, all in a moment. The arrow landed just under it. “Hm.” He said.

“Not bad. Just make sure you keeping that elbow high when you draw.” The instructor said in passing.

WC: 711