➸4th of Searing, Year 124, A.o.S➸
➸ Upon his enlistment into the military, he found his love for archery, seeing it as a useful talent to perfect for when taking out targets from a distance was required. It also never hurt to be a multifaceted warrior, useful in all capacities. Having only used the bow before now for hunting purposes, he knew he needed to sharpen his skill in it. When unable to use a blade, he was sure to use the piercing power of a will placed arrow instead. He found himself in a secluded area in the forest outside of the capitol, and propped a longbow and quiver of arrows he had.
Finding a thick enough tree, he carved a bullseye onto it and sectioned it into fours. Getting a feel for the weapon, he found his stance and allowed the first few shots to fly, gauging just how accurate he was. After a few more rounds, he began to settle into a calm, almost meditative process of self-awareness to check that his body was in position for the shot. He stands sideways to the target, relaxes his shoulders, fits the arrow onto the bow, and then raises it. Before he shoots, he checked his hand so that it isn’t gripping the bow too tightly, as it can actually make the shot less steady.
He learned as much from watching the other archers practice in the shooting range. Mimicking their technique, being an easy study and quick learner, he held it with his thumb and forefinger just meeting around the bow and the rest of his fingers at 45 degrees. Letting off the shot, it hit the trunk of the tree he was aiming at. A smirk painted his face at the success, seeing this as just the beginning. This was the one thing that made him feel comfortable with the bow, practicing the way the others had done in the shooting range.
Walking up to the tree he yanked the arrow from its bark, admiring the fact this one was a bit closer. Going back to his original position, he retraced the mindset he was feeling at that moment. What he felt, in those moments of lining up the shot. It was a complete release from the rest of the world. And when everything is together, he lets go, his hand pulling back to rest aiding his left shoulder after the shot. The satisfying thud of the arrow as it sunk into the trunk of the tree – the satisfaction of it hitting its mark – was better than any sex or drugs could provide him. And then fixed another arrow in line to do it all again.
By the end of his trial and error process, he had settled into the process. He found his rhythm, leveling up to three successful shots in a row. It was not the ideal proficiency he wanted in the least, but it was no doubt progress to say the least. For his last few rounds, he started to keep score – at which point he had to battle to subdue a burning competitiveness to outdo the last shot every time. He had to remind himself this was to learn and gain skill, not overdoing it to be the best so early in his development.
There were other factors in the forest that were no doubt distracting to his focus. With wind blowing and denying a clean hit, or the birds that would unfortunately go down as friendly fire, Thimryl soon found his ideal practice ground to be less than ideal. But this would not cause him to falter in any way. He would go to reclaim his arrows and sit for a moment, mulling over the techniques he witnessed from the more seasoned practitioners. He laid back into the coolness of the grass, allowing his arms some respite from the tension of constantly pulling on the bowstring.
He could lay there for hours if he had all the time in the world, to bask in the songs of his surroundings, the gentle hums of bumblebees flying from flower to flower, how the wind sang through the trees and every blade of grass. The music from birds as they chirped between each other. It was like being home, the many hours he spent immersing himself in the environment, becoming one with nature. It felt good, but he knew it couldn't last for too long.
After enjoying his break he decided it was time to get back to work, this training wasn't going to finish itself. He decided the best course of action right now was to put what he learned as a whole into practice. He was able to set up the clearing he was in with more bullseye targets for practice. His bow clenched in his hand he quickly opened fire on the makeshift targets with his arrows, some landing a clean hit, while others missing their mark completely. "Unacceptable" he hissed, looking at the results and finding he was not satisfied. He collected his arrows and repeated the process, this time shaving off some seconds on the firing speed.
Now came the last run at the target course, as the sun was now coming to begin its descent from the sky. Fighting through the soreness of his muscles, he went to draw his bow back, and as if hearing music play he began to perfect it. With his bow drawn and arrow notched, Thimryl leaped into action. He delivered more accurate shots that almost hit the center of the bullseyes. The legion of targets soon began to be punctured left and right with an arrow. Though upon finding himself in the mists of targets his mind began to play tricks on him. The inanimate tree enemies began to morph and look like amorphous abominations.
He knew this was nothing but a trick of his mind, but panicked for a split second. With a deep breath, he sprinted forward, diving into the horde head-on. With a lunge, he rotated his body weight to put himself into a rolling position. With his bow drawn back and three arrows in place, he let all three arrows fly as he tucked and rolled, piercing into the bark of the tree where the targets were carved. Once his path was finished he turned and sighed. "My mind would choose now to play awful tricks on me? Must be from the exhaustion of pushing myself so hard." he panted taking a moment to relax after that weird hallucination.
He plopped onto the cool grass once again, allowing his body to cool once more, allowing the soreness to fade, if only for a moment. Once he was good and ready he began his long journey back to the city. As he did, he was humming a tune, a song he heard in his adolescent days in a tavern off the coast of Kalzasi during a trip with his father. It was calming, as it allowed his brain to ease into a rest as he was always thinking, always observing things. It was nice to now just relax and not think of the many pressures he had placed on himself since his time joining the military.
First, he would distinguish himself in service, then become a knight, and then and only then would he dare to become part of the Phoenix King's Royal Guard. That was the dream, the goal, and from there he knew he could achieve greatness for sure, to become a legend that others would write songs about. Most importantly he would be serving his majesty, and that was the true reward for his labor. Realizing it was getting late he sat up and gathered his stuff.
Looking around he could see a mix of wildlife, some looking at him with the utmost curiosity. For now, he would head home to the barracks and rest his body, gods know he would need it. As he came upon the neighborhood he was greeted by the people deme Hinya, smiles and waves alike. Once he got near the barracks, a group of children approached him, wanting to test their skill on the warrior. With eyes of endearment and amusement, Thimryl smiled and got into a fighting stance, trading his real sword for a practice one.
He gave the little ones a good show, allowing them to make their own mistakes, only so they could learn from those taps and bumps and get a style they wanted to use in mind. He found it optimal to do so when training the future. He showed them techniques that helped him when he was their age when it came to wielding a weapon. Overall this day was a good one and Thimryl especially felt good about the seeds of growth he had sown in his training, hoping to see them blossom into something useful when the time called for it, and he couldnt wait. ➸
"Common Speech"
"Mythrasi Speech"
"Self-Thoughts"
