Lelu murmured in displeasure from that idea, looking over to Grace with a scowl before Bermuda with a worried frown. After a moment to calm down and think it over she smiled a bit and nodded at the arachne.
“I suppose I could do that. It would be interesting to see your magic without fearing for my life this time.”
“Again, she blew up Max’s house with her magic,” Grace reminded them. “She’s probably going to blow you up too if you go. Actually… yeah, you should go. Go with her. Please.”
“Grace,” Max sternly said. “Do you want me to assist you today or not?”
Grace sighed with a roll of her eyes before eating her meal again.
“Lelu will join you for your lesson,” Max said to Bermuda with a friendly smirk. “I’ll skip today’s show, but in return the next one you perform better be even grander.”
“Fair enough, Max,” Bermuda giggled. “I promise to give you an amazing performance next time.”
She smiled happily at Max and Lelu before glancing to Grace with discontent as the elf loudly burped while eating her breakfast.
“Well, seeing as how Grace only brought something to eat for herself and Max; Lelu, would you care to join me in the dining hall? I need to get my energy up before my lesson.”
“Um… is it going to be crowded at this hour?” Lelu nervously asked.
“It won’t be too crowded. Don’t worry, nobody’s going to be mean to you. We’re all equals here, remember? If you don’t feel like talking to anyone, you don’t have to. Just talk to me, ask me anything you like. Anything at all.”
“Well… okay,” Lelu slowly agreed. “I am pretty hungry.”
“Excuse me for only having two fucking arms,” Grace complained with a mouthful. “Not like I could have brought my servant his stupid food, and mine, and pushed a wheelbarrow filled with slop for you to eat at the same time.”
Max sighed as the two girls again broke out into another fierce verbal war, throwing insults and shame back and forth between them while growing more and more furious with each passing comment. While he tried to block out their usual way of speaking to one another, Bermuda slowly shook her head at the bickering girls, her eyes then moving over onto Max who ate his meal in silence with great tolerance for his companions and their contrasting personalities.
‘You have Lelu practically begging for your attention in that revealing outfit, yet you still act polite and treat Grace with such patience and fairness. That elf doesn’t deserve such kindness from someone like you, Max.’
*****
A few clouds slowly drifted by overhead during the sunny day, the rays of light shining down upon Shadow’s Refuge as if basking it in holy radiance from the heavens themselves. The monastery wasn’t exactly colorful on the outside, what with its somewhat dreary architecture and view of steep cliffs behind it; however it had its own peaceful charm all the same. The statues of harpies were old and weathered yet still stood strong through the ages to constantly watch over those who rested below. The courtyards had plenty of space to walk about and enjoy some recreational activities while the gardens had flowers blooming and large clumps of vines growing up the nearby walls and stone pillars. Walkways with sunshades allowed residents to cross into adjacent buildings of the sanctuary or stop and rest outside on benches set near the squares. A few harpies could be seen walking along the towering ramparts along with women dressed in long white cloaks with hoods that allowed large horns to protrude out the front. The harpies were scanning the skies and watching some of their patients enjoying the nice weather inside the walls, while the cloaked women had small orbs of glistening light floating around in front of their hands which were hidden in their giant sleeves, the magical wielding monsters slowly patrolling the bulwarks with their unseen gazes always moving across The Outerlands on constant alert.
With a sharp whack an arrow struck into a tree near the wall, that being the only one that hit something while the rest from that particular volley bounced across the courtyard and failed to strike into anything. A harpy atop the partition observed with a small sigh a familiar sight happening again in that court.
“God fucking dammit!” Grace yelled, swinging her bow around in a fit while an absurdly large quiver of arrows swayed behind on her back. The elf roared in frustration, grabbed a literal handful of arrows from her quiver, primed them in her bow, and let them fly in a wide, chaotic spread outward. It was a good thing Max was standing well enough behind her, as the elf’s ballistic attack launched arrows in a very large arc all around her, sending them flying into wooden posts, skidding across the stone brick ground, whacking into a tree, shooting a few flowers dead without mercy, and even lodged into the wall just a few feet below from the harpy, the woman hopping a bit with a squeak as she didn’t imagine the little archer’s aim would be anywhere good enough to send a bolt that close to her.
“Holy crap,” Max slowly said in awe, not out of admiration for Grace’s attempt but rather amazement at how horrible she was with trying to hit the lone circular target further away in the courtyard that had yet to have a single arrow strike it.
“Why won’t it ever fucking work?” Grace screamed with great force, as if she were yelling to the gods above that surely could have heard her.
“Um, Grace?” Max asked, earning a vicious glare from the elf who quickly pointed to him.
“Shut up! Your job is to collect my arrows when I’m out, that’s it! I don’t need your smartass comments right now, so stow your tongue otherwise I’ll rip it out of your fucking mouth!”
Max sighed and nodded as the elf screamed and grabbed another handful of arrows and fired them, sending them all over the courtyard and again missing her target. Again and again she fired arrows like crazy, a never ending storm of projectiles hailing all across the plaza and pelting anything and everything except the painted board.
“What the hell is the deal?” Grace screamed, dropping to her knees with her quiver finally nearing empty. She shook her bow relentlessly as she struggled to hold in her voice, managing a whole three seconds with strained breathing before roaring in frustration. Up above on the ramparts the harpy slowly shook her head at the sight while a watcher stood next to her and observed the elf’s tirade with her hidden gaze.
“What brings that young elf turmoil?” the watcher asked in a softly echoing voice.
“I believe she’s biting off more than she can chew with her practice,” the harpy empathized. “She seems to believe success only lies in using multiple arrows instead of just one.”
“I feel remorse for her plight,” the watcher agreed. “Such energy wasted in anger with that one. Much potential going wanting. Very unfortunate.”
Grace whimpered and struck her fist onto the ground in despair, holding in her tears as her breathing became ragged and mixed with upset snarls and distraught whines.
“Why?” Max finally asked. Grace glanced back to him with a stubborn scowl as he shook his head and gestured to the dozens of arrows littering the court.
“I don’t understand, so can you please explain to me?” he requested with disbelief. “Why is it you’re so determined to only fire three, four, or even five arrows at a time rather than just one? Why are you so against the notion of firing just one arrow?”
“Shut up!”
“Grace, please tell me why you’re torturing yourself. Every time you come out here to practice your archery it’s the same thing. You load up your bow with way too many arrows and you fail to hit your mark nearly every time. I’ve seen you fire all the arrows in your quiver many times over, and out of all those arrows I’ve only counted six times you’ve struck that target, and each of those six times was just barely hitting the board by an inch.”
“I told you to shut up, boy!” Grace shouted, stumbling back onto her feet and getting in his face.
“Not until you explain to me why you’re doing this to yourself!” Max yelled back, startling the elf. “Dammit, Grace, just tell me why. Why are you putting so much pressu
re on your archery that you’ll only accept victory by launching hundreds of arrows at the same time with any sort of accuracy? Why not just use a single arrow like it was intended to be done?”
“Because Clover can fire hundreds of arrows at a single target and never miss once!” Grace cried out at him. “Because Clover can fire multiple arrows at the same time with perfect accuracy! Because Clover can shoot farther and sharper than any elf ever could! Because she can do it and she does it so amazingly well! That’s why I’m practicing this way, that’s why I’m not going to accept using just one fucking arrow to strike my target! Because I’m going to be just like Clover when I grow up!”
Max fell silent as he watched the elf rubbing her eyes and struggling to keep her emotions from breaking out in her anger, a few tears being seen before they were quickly wiped away as she turned away from the boy and tried to steady her breathing.
“Clover is the greatest elf in the whole fucking world,” she shakily explained. “She came to our grove after surviving a fairy attack on her old village, she was the only one that fucking insect couldn’t kill with her godforsaken magic. She came to our grove and she quickly showed all of us what a real huntress was like. She’s perfect, you hear me? Perfect accuracy, perfect skills, perfect body, perfect everything! Who wouldn’t want to be like her? She’s my role model. No, she’s more than that. She’s my hero.”
“You’re doing all this to mimic your idol?”
“Of course, aren’t you listening to me?” Grace yelled at him with a flustered look. “I’m going to be just like her, I swear to the fucking heavens that will be true. I’m going to learn to shoot like she does, learn to fear nothing like she does, learn to be invincible like she is. I’m even wearing my hair in pigtails like she does. I mean her hair is way longer than mine, but my hair will grow to match it soon enough, you’ll see! I’m going to be just like her, just like her, you hear me?”
She wiped her eyes and then her nose before scowling at Max with a teary-eyed leer.
“So do you get it now? Now do you understand why I have to succeed with this?”
“I think I understand,” Max said, slowly nodding. “I see why this is pushing you so hard. It’s like how it was when Mae aspired to become a sharpshooter in our family.”
“Your sister?” Grace repeated.
“Yeah. She loved archery since she was little, and wanted to master the craft growing up. She even built her own repeater from scratch, designed it herself to be her prized weapon on the battlefield. It’s a little touchy, has a nasty habit of firing on its own sometimes, but it’s served her well all these years.”
“Repeaters are fine, I guess,” Grace mumbled looking away. “They can fire somewhat fast, can’t they?”
“Mae’s can. She can let loose a good amount of bolts in rapid succession before having to reload. You wouldn’t guess it at first since she wears glasses, but her eyesight is very sharp when she’s in combat. I’d wager the number of hits she’s made well overshadows her misses.”
“Not bad… I guess. Still doesn’t come close to what Clover can do.”
“Maybe not,” Max reasoned with a shrug. “It sounds like Clover is plenty fast with her bow as well. But I will tell you something about my sister. She can fire dozens of arrows onto approaching enemies before they ever reach her, she’s deadly with her aim and can hit moving targets with ease. She built up a reputation as a skilled monster hunter, this you already knew. But what you probably didn’t know is that when she first made her repeater, she had a lock installed that made it so she could only fire a single arrow at a time before reloading.”
“She did that on purpose?” Grace questioned. “Why would she intentionally handicap herself like that?”
“So she could learn a very important lesson, one that I’m sure even Clover knows very well,” Max knowingly said, then gestured around at the many arrows all over the courtyard. Grace glanced around at her handiwork then showed an uneasy grimace as Max shook his head at her.
“What good is firing hundreds of arrows if they all miss their mark?” he quizzed her, earning a worried look from the elf as she remained silent. “An archer who can’t hit with one arrow isn’t a real archer. If you can’t hit your target with one, what’s the point of using dozens more?”
“…but…”
“Grace, I need you to hear me when I say this,” Max genuinely told her. “I do owe my life to you. You saved me and Lelu from those copycats. I have no idea why that mysterious voice guided you to safety or why that path led you to me, but I am thankful for it. And I don’t hate you at all even though you’re not human. I don’t consider you like those nameless monsters of Eden who only rape and kill humans. You’re better than that. You’re more special than that.”
“Max…” Grace breathed out.
“But you have to understand that you are just terrible with your archery,” Max sighed. Grace twitched from hearing that, her stunned face quickly turning enraged as she opened her mouth to shout all manner of obscenities at the boy.
“When you use more than one arrow,” Max continued, halting Grace in her tracks. “But when you use just one, you prove that you’re naturally gifted with the bow and arrow like all elves are. You have talent for the craft, and I have no doubt that you could become an amazing archer someday if you work hard.”
He knelt down and picked up an arrow, admiring the bolt with a distant eye as it reminded him of his missing sister. Standing upright he then held the arrow towards the elf, electing a confused look from the girl.
“Shoot this, and only this.”
“But-”
“Grace,” Max said with an expectant look. “Even Clover had to have started with just one. Don’t try to run a marathon when you’re still learning to walk. Take this arrow, and fire it at the target.”
“But-”
“Grace,” Max said, more firmly this time. “Just try it. What have you got to lose?”
Grace looked at the arrow with a low grumble and look of annoyance. She huffed and snatched the arrow from Max, loading it into her bow and drawing back the string while showing disgust for having just a single arrow primed in her hand. Glancing to Max he saw her fancifully gesturing towards the target. She mumbled something to herself before she took aim at the board, pausing for a moment before shooting the arrow with a sharp shrill through the air. The bolt streaked across the quad and pierced the target two rings away from the center, something that only brought a dull look to Grace’s face. Turning to Max she opened her mouth to argue about this being a waste of time before seeing him holding another arrow out to her.
“Again,” he requested.
“Why?”
“You don’t get better by firing just once. Take this and shoot again.”
Grace grumbled as she snatched the arrow from him, seeing only a content grin on his face as he motioned towards the target. Again the elf drew the arrow back and took aim, firing the bolt and striking one ring away from the target’s center.
“This is stupid,” Grace scoffed.
“Again,” Max said, holding out another bolt.
“But-”
“Again,” Max repeated.
Grace growled as she grabbed the arrow from him, the elf glaring at him then the lonely bolt she had in her hand who had no friends with him. She quickly took aim and fired it at the board, striking the center with a hard whack. Slowly she lowered her stance while staring at the perfect shot she had made with wonder, her eyes then moving over to Max who had another arrow presented for her.
“Again,” he kindly requested.
“What’s the point of firing just one though?” Grace argued. “I need to practice firing way more than that. If I’m ever going to be just like Clover I have to-”
“Is that all you think about?” Max wondered. “Being just like Clover? Being able to do everything exactly like she does? Being a perfect reflection of her?”
“Yes, of course.”
“But what about G
race?” Max asked, earning a confused look from the elf. “What about her?”
“What do you mean? I am Grace.”
“Are you? You’re trying to act like Clover, shoot like Clover, be like Clover, and even look like Clover. What part about you is still Grace? What is there about you right now that’s still you and not her?”
Grace fell silent as she stared at him speechless, words failing her as he looked her over and shook his head slightly.
“It’s one thing to look up to your idol. It’s another to want to become them. You can learn to be as great an archer as she is, and even master firing multiple arrows someday. I have full confidence that you can achieve that, Grace. But don’t think of yourself as her shadow. You’re more than that. You’re your own archer. You shouldn’t see her way of doing things as the only way for you. You can become a fantastic archer in your own way.”
“But she’s amazing at everything she does, I want to be just like her,” Grace insisted. “You would think the same way if you ever saw her. There’s no elf in the world who can hold a torch to her.”
“I’d much rather spend the day being your assistant than watch her at an archery range,” Max replied, getting a surprised jump from the elf. “I’m sure she’s amazing in her own light, from what you’ve described she could very well give Mae a run for her gold in a competition. But honestly I don’t care about that. I just want to see you doing this, not her.”
“That’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever said,” Grace shot back in a fluster.
“I don’t know, you’ve claimed that I’ve said some pretty stupid things in the past,” Max smirked. “But I’m serious about this. I’m not interested in spectating Clover or even learning more about what makes her so special. I’m interested in learning more about Grace and seeing what makes her special.”
“There’s nothing special about me,” Grace muttered, looking down and away. “I need way more practice before I’m even close to her level. At best… maybe… maybe I am just a shadow of Clover. It sucks, but… that’s all I’ve become so far. The only thing about her I’ve managed to mimic is her hairstyle… and… even that isn’t helping me. I’m trying, I really am, I’m trying to be just like her and do this her way, but… it’s just not working. I don’t know what else to do.”
Chronicles of Eden - Season II - Act II Page 33