It was the next day.
The training grounds of Ashwick Hall smelled of damp earth and pine resin because it rained early in the morning. Izze stood by the archery racks, her small, green hands checking the tension on a recurve bow with aggressive efficiency. Every few seconds, she paused, her gaze snapping toward Linda, who was currently struggling to hold a bow without looking like she was about to collapse under the weight of it.
The Krithak let out a sharp, disbelieving snort, shaking her head so hard her oversized ears flopped.
"I still can't fucking believe it," Izze barked, her voice carrying across the yard. "I'm downstairs, taking a goddamn leak, and you're upstairs playing the great Aelvyn conqueror. Two of 'em! At once! I turn my back for a night and you've gone and scored the Madam and the big girl. You're like a little seed-bomb, silver-tits, just exploding all over everything that doesn't move fast enough."
Linda’s grip on the bow slackened, the heavy wood dipping toward the mud.
Her cheeks flared a deep, vivid pink, and she stared intensely at her own boots, unable to meet the Krithak's manic energy.
"I didn't... I didn't actually plan for any of that to happen," Linda stammered. She paused, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corner of her mouth despite her mortification. "But I... I liked it. A lot..."
So much...
The Aelvyn didn't want to be driven by her cock, but she could see herself just having sex all the time...
"Of course you did, you little weirdo! That’s why I dragged your shy ass to the Reed in the first place. You were wound tighter than a crossbow string, and you’re too goddamn polite to actually ask for what you want." Izze responded. "You needed the stress relief, princess. Now that you've figured out how to actually use that thing between your legs, maybe you'll stop shaking every time a woman looks at you. Don't think I don't know about your crush on Lyra!"
Linda let out a high-pitched squeak, her face turning a shade of crimson that rivaled a ripe tomato, no longer pink.
"Please! Just... please just get to the bow training!" Linda pleaded, her hands covering her face.
While she was horrified by the public dissection of her sex life, a traitorous thought crept into her mind. If Izze was observant enough to pick up on her pining for the assistant, then the Krithak surely knew about the fluttering she felt whenever Izze herself barked orders or leaned too close to correct her posture.
Or that incident last time...
Izze let out a huff, waving a dismissive hand in the air as if brushing away a fly.
"Fine, fine! Stop your whining and don't get your Aelvyn panties in a fucking twist. You're acting like I caught you stealing the royal jewels instead of just knocking some pussy," Izze replied while rolling her eyes.
The Krithak stopped fussing with the bow rack and stepped toward the Aelvyn, closing the gap until she was standing right beside her. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through Linda, but as she looked at the equipment, a dormant memory flickered to life - the smell of cedar and old leather from the few archery lessons her grandmother had dragged her to as a child in North Dakota. Linda shifted her stance, planting her feet shoulder-width apart to find her center of gravity. She lifted the bow with a sudden, decisive confidence, nocking the arrow and drawing the string back in one fluid motion. She anchored the string against the bottom of her ear lobe, her breathing slowing as she focused on the target dummy, aligning the shaft with an analytical precision that mirrored her coding days.
The release was a sharp thwack that echoed across the damp training grounds. The arrow blurred through the air, slicing through the wind before burying itself deep into the center of the straw dummy's chest. Linda didn't even blink, her gaze fixed on the target, the lingering sensation of the string's snap still vibrating in her fingertips. For a moment, the social anxiety and the crushing weight of her own insecurities vanished, replaced by the simple, binary logic of trajectory and force.
Izze stared at the target, then looked back at Linda, her expression shifting from smugness to genuine curiosity. She let out a low whistle, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back on her heels.
"Well, look at you. Turns out you've actually got some skill after all," Izze remarked, though her voice held a new, softer edge of respect. "I was expecting a clumsy miss, not a bullseye that would make a royal guard sweat."
Linda blinked, the sudden silence of the training grounds making her feel exposed.
She lowered the bow, her shoulders hunching instinctively.
"I don't know... maybe it's the Aelvyn heritage? Like you said before?" Linda murmured, searching for a logical explanation that didn't involve her own competence.
Izze gave a noncommittal uh-huh, her yellow eyes scanning Linda with a calculating intensity. She seemed to see right through the deflection, but for once, the Krithak didn't push.
"Sure, let's go with the ears. I'm not gonna press you for an answer if you want to play the 'racial instinct' card," Izze replied, stepping back into her role as instructor. "But don't get cocky. One shot could be a fluke. And shooting while standing still is not the same as shooting to save your life or a friends life. It only fucking matters when its you versus those hollowed bitches."
Linda nodded, though internally she was fighting a wave of cognitive dissonance.
The Aelvyn knew Izze was right - hitting a straw dummy was a far cry from the visceral terror of a real skirmish - but she felt a silent surge of gratitude toward her childhood self. Those tedious weekends in North Dakota, enduring her grandmother’s insistence on "traditional skills," had left her with a latent understanding of muscle memory and windage.
"I won't forget that," Linda replied, her voice steady.
She stepped back into her stance, shifting her weight to center her gravity. Instead of overthinking the process, she treated the bow like a line of code, simplifying the variables: distance, wind, and tension. She drew the string back to her cheek, held the breath in her lungs for a heartbeat, and released. The arrow didn't just hit the target, but slammed directly into the center of the dummy's forehead with a definitive thud.
Izze let out a sharp whistle, louder this time, her eyes narrowing.
"Two for two. Now we're getting somewhere." Izze said with a nod of her head. "Now you gotta hit a moving target."
The Krithak stepped back and grabbed a thick hemp rope, hauling a second dummy forward. This one was mounted on a heavy, grease-slicked wooden axle with wheels that groaned against the mud. Izze didn't explain the drill - she just took her position thirty feet behind the target and gave the rope a sudden, violent yank, sending the dummy careening across the range in a jagged, unpredictable arc.
Linda froze, her fingers hovering near the string.
"Um, Izze? What happens if... I mean, if I miss and hit you by accident?" Linda asked, suddenly now very nervous.
Izze stopped dead, staring at Linda like she’d just asked if water was wet.
"Then you'd better hope your apology is better than your footwork, because I'd probably kick your teeth in. Well… I’d just have Teddy heal me, I guess." Izze answered. She didn't sound angry, just blunt. "Combat isn't a controlled environment, Linda. There are no safety rails when Hollows are trying to kill you. You don't worry about the 'what ifs'. You adjust your lead, you trust your eyes, and you commit to the shot. Now stop thinking like a fucking librarian and start thinking like a predator. Eat or be eaten, sunshine."
Izze stepped behind the wooden target, her movements suddenly jagged and erratic. She jerked the dummy from side to side, mimicking the twitchy, unnatural gait of the Hollowed creatures Linda had seen in the ruins. Linda drew the string back, the tension singing through her shoulders, but the target shifted abruptly. The arrow hissed past the dummy’s shoulder, thudding uselessly into the damp earth. The Aelvyn’s heart hammered against her ribs. She breathed out, trying to treat the target as a moving coordinate on a grid, calculating the vector of the dummy's lurch. As the target surged forward, she released. The string slapped her forearm with a sharp sting, and the shaft buried itself deep into the dummy's chest with a satisfying, heavy thunk.
The dummy didn't stop.
The Krithak kept driving it forward, closing the gap with a terrifying, simulated speed that mirrored a charging corpse. The distance shrank rapidly, the target now looming within a few yards. Linda’s instinct was to panic, to let the bow drop and scramble away, but she forced her mind to stay cold. She didn't have time for a full, measured draw. She performed a snap-shot, a short, instinctive pull that relied on raw tension over precision. She aimed for the center of the mass, leading the target slightly to account for the forward momentum.
The arrow flew true, a blur of cedar and steel that caught the dummy square in the head, splitting the carved wooden face down the middle. The impact knocked the target back, and for a second, there was total silence on the training grounds. Linda lowered the bow, her arms trembling slightly from the adrenaline, her breath coming in short, jagged gasps. She looked at the shattered head of the target, then at Izze, waiting for the critique, the mockery, or the inevitable reminder that she had just gotten lucky.
"Was... was that okay?" Linda asked, her voice small and tentative, the old habit of seeking approval overriding her recent growth.
Lina hoped it was because she wasn't good at anything else that would translate in this world.
Maybe math?
But then she'd have to go to one of the bigger cities she'd guessed and get a government job?
Linda needed Theodore to explain at least what Caravess entailed...
Izze stepped out from behind the wreckage, her eyes scanning the trajectory of the shot and the way Linda held her follow-through.
A slow, genuine smile spread across the Krithak's face.
"Good? Twelve Hells, that wasn't just good. That was a damn execution," Izze answered, stepping over a splintered piece of the dummy. She circled Linda, her eyes tracing the tension still held in the archer's shoulders and the way her fingers had instinctively released the string. "You've got the eye for it. Most people fight the bow, trying to force the arrow where they want it to go. You just... calculated the gap and let the bow and arrow do the work. You're a fucking bow woman, through and through. With my training in the shortsword and your natural talent for the bow... You'll fit right in when we do quests, sweetheart."
Linda felt a warmth bloom in her chest that had nothing to do with the heat of Quorrith.
"I'm... I'm really happy to hear that. Thank you, Izze." Linda replied.
The validation hit her harder than any physical blow, a sudden surge of confidence that felt fragile, like a piece of glass she was terrified of dropping.
Her daddy issues were showing?
Or were they mommy issues?
Gah! What did it matter, Linda thought with a loud internal sigh.
Izze’s smile widened, shifting from encouraging to eager, and it reminded Linda of when those bandits appeared.
Like the Krithak was raring for a fight.
"Blunted shafts. No piercing power, but enough weight to knock a man off his feet. If you're actually as good as that last shot suggests, let's see how you handle a target that moves of its own volition." Izze said, throwing out the challenge, and Linda could faintly hear a bell ringing in the distance...
Linda blinked, her fingers twitching against the grip of her bow.
The idea of "real" combat made her stomach do a slow, nauseating roll, but the challenge prickled at her curiosity.
"You mean... against a person?" Linda asked, her green eyes a bit wide.
Izze laughed, a sharp sound that echoed through the hall.
"For Drevan's sake, not a person, you fucking idiot. A sparring partner. The trick to a bow isn't the release... It's the reload from your quiver. In a real scrap, you have maybe two seconds between shots before something closes the gap and puts a blade in your gut. You have to manage your breath, keep your footing, and time the draw while your brain is screaming that you're about to die." Izze explained. "Now, blessings make this easier, but you got your amnesia and all, so having an actual sparring partner will do you wonders."
"Makes sense," Linda responded with a nod. "If you think it will help me improve, I'll do it."
Izze smirked and strode toward the equipment rack.
The Krithak grabbed a handful of heavy, blunt-tipped shafts - that were rounded - made of ironwood. These weren't designed to penetrate skin, but were essentially weighted arrows launched at high velocity, designed to deliver a bruising impact that would leave a person gasping for air and stumbling backward. They reminded her of rubber bullets, the kind that cops used.
Izze tossed them to Linda, who caught the bundle with a clumsy fumbling of her fingers.
"You're not just shooting targets anymore, silver-tits," Izze said, her smirk turning into her famous wide grin that stretched across her face. "You're shooting me."
The Krithak didn't wait for Linda to process the shift. Izze stepped back, her boots crunching on dirt and mud as she retreated toward the perimeter of the training grounds. She kept moving until she hit the edge, putting a significant distance between them - enough to give Linda a clear line of sight but close enough that the stakes felt immediate.
Then Izze rushed.
The Krithak didn't run in a straight line. She was erratically zig-zagging, her boots kicking up clumps of wet earth. She wasn't using her blessing to enhance her speed, relying instead on raw, athletic aggression to close the gap. Linda’s heart hammered against her ribs, her breath hitching as the distance between them shrank. She scrambled to notch an arrow, her fingers trembling as she pulled the bowstring back to her cheek. She aimed for where Izze was, released, and watched the blunt shaft sail wide, whistling harmlessly past the goblin's shoulder.
"Too slow!" Izze yelled, her voice a jagged edge of glee.
"Dangit, dangit, dangit..." Linda mumbled, the words tripping over each other as she scrambled to notch a second arrow.
Izze was already halfway there, a blur of green skin and jagged laughter.
The Aelvyn stopped trying to track her movement in real-time; the lag between her eyes and her fingers was too great. Instead, she treated Izze like a packet of data moving across a network - predictable patterns hidden in apparent chaos. She didn't aim where the the Krithak was, but where the physics of that erratic zig-zag demanded she land. As Izze pivoted left to make her final surge, Linda released. The ironwood shaft hissed through the air, cutting a tight arc that grazed the Krithak’s right bicep with a dull thwack.
The impact wasn't enough to knock her down, but it was enough to break her stride.
Izze stumbled, her shoulder jerking violently to the side as the blunt tip bruised the muscle. For a heartbeat, the predatory glee on the Krithak's face vanished, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. She skidded to a halt, the mud spraying across her boots, and looked down at her arm.
"Well, damn," Izze breathed, shaking out her bicep to regain circulation. She looked at Linda, her eyes narrowing with a new kind of intensity. "I've trained dozens of recruits, but they usually just panic and fire into the dirt when I charge. You didn't just track me; you led the shot. You've got to be some kind of bow prodigy, Linda. Where the hell did you hide that?"
Linda lowered the bow and shook her head.
"It was just a graze," Linda replied. "And I missed the first one completely. I just... I thought about where you had to go. It wasn't a great shot, really."
Izze scoffed, the bruise on her arm already deepening to a dull purple.
"Stop that. Don't talk yourself out of a win. If that had been a bodkin point instead of a blunt ironwood tip, you wouldn't have just bruised me, but put a hole through my bicep." Izze rebutted with a roll of her eyes. "You did good. Let yourself have this."
Linda looked down at her bow, the string still humming faintly.
"I know. I just... I'll try to get better at the confidence part too," Linda murmured, her voice trailing off as she shifted her weight.
Izze didn't let her retreat into her shell.
The Krithak stepped closer, the scent of damp earth and exertion clinging to her, and crooked a finger, gesturing for Linda to lean down.
Linda obeyed, blinking as Izze reached up with a calloused, rough hand to hook under her chin.
The grip wasn't aggressive, but it was firm, forcing the Aelvyn to hold eye contact.
"You better," Izze murmured, her voice dropping to a low, playful rasp.
Izze gave Linda’s cheek a firm, affectionate pat - a gesture that felt far too intimate for a training field, like last time's incident - before releasing her abruptly.
Huh?
Geez, now she was hard!, Linda thought in a whine.
Izze didn't wait for Linda to process the touch.
The Krithak spun around with a fluid, predatory grace, her leather breeches stretching tight across the muscular curve of her backside. The movement was a deliberate tease, a physical punctuation mark to the end of the lesson.
"Don't get comfortable, rookie," Izze called over her shoulder, her voice humming with a competitive edge. "We’ll go again tomorrow."
Great..., Linda thought, her pants uncomfortably tight.