Nessa Rootmark's Arc

Chapter 4 of 9

The practice ground emptied slowly. Nessa kept her focus on the target, arrow after arrow finding its mark. She didn't count the shots. She didn't track who stayed to watch. The crowd became background noise, then silence, then footsteps moving away through the grass. When she finally lowered her bow, only one person remained. Her rival stood at the edge of the clearing, near the golden-leafed tree that served as his personal sanctuary. The book resting on the bench beside him—the tome the clan kept there to honor his name among the legends—caught the last light through the canopy. He picked it up and walked toward her target. Nessa's chest tightened. He'd never approached her practice before. He stopped three paces from her target and studied the cluster of arrows in the center. "You're shooting differently," he said. Not a question. An observation. She waited. He turned the book over in his hands. "The clan wants me to choose an apprentice. I'm choosing you." The words didn't make sense. She'd lost to him four times. The clan revered him. She was the archer who couldn't fix her own flaw. "Why?" The question came out sharper than she meant. He looked at her target again, then met her eyes. "Because you finally stopped running from what you needed to do. That's harder than any shot." He set the tome on the bench circling the tree's base and walked away. Nessa stared at the book, at her target, at the choice now sitting between them. She'd wanted to beat him. Now he was offering to teach her. The path to becoming the greatest had just changed completely.