The Ocean Arrow

He Wants His Bow Back

Oliver

I often forget that Talia was the one who taught me how to fight. She was the one who helped me when I was in need and took me in. She knows all my weaknesses and all my strengths. She could easily predict every move I'd do against her, and that's exactly what she did.

Which explains why I wake up in an unrecognizable room with dirty stone walls and a floor filled with dirt. I quickly sit up, and a headache immediately forms in my head. I rub my aching head and groan. I should've known better than to fall for Talia's traps. I should've seen it coming. I had no idea how long I've been out for. I don't know if my friends had escaped or were captured. I hope for the best, but it's hard knowing I was being held hostage by the League of Assassins.

I stand up, reaching for my bow and arrow, only to realize that they'd been taken from me. I frowned at myself, suddenly feeling the dead weight of a nonexistent bow in my hand and a quiver along my back.

I took a better look around the room I was in. That's when I saw the door wasn't locked. The smallest slit in between the doorframe and door was clearly present once you notice it. Whether the door was left on purpose or not, something tells me I shouldn't go out that door. But I often don't listen to my brain, more so my gut. And my gut tells me that this door is my best chance of escaping.

I let my hand rest against it and push it open slowly, hearing a small creak which made me perk my ears up, carefully listening in if any assassins were nearby.

I look both ways down the hall, and when I saw no one was there, I ran out of my prison and in the open hallway. I pressed my back against the wall, listening in for any people.

I decided to take a right turn, and found myself looking at a group of assassins. I spun back against the wall, just barely avoiding them. I stood there in silence, listening to the assassins footsteps slowly recede, not having noticed that they almost saw me.

After a few twists and turns, and running into some dead ends, I reached the stairs. With my back against the wall, I slowly step down the stairs. But the stairs were a lot more unstable than they looked, because with one step, some of the rubble fell down, tumbling all the way down to the floor.

I cursed under my breath and stood still. I heard a bit of commotion, but nobody came over.

This doesn't feel right.

I ran out, avoiding the gaze of the League and strolled out. I paused as soon as I walked out. If I easily walked out, it's obvious that they wanted me out. But why? I thought to myself. I tried reaching for a bow in my quiver before, once again, realizing it had been confiscated.

I want my bow back.

They must keep my weapons back in the building that I just escaped from. I know it was risky, but in an island full of people who want me dead, the least I could do is try to get my bow back. I took a few steps back into the building and glanced to my right and left. And there it was, siting on a pedestal, as if they wanted me to see it. An assassin was guarding it, but more like standing around it.

I felt as if this entire escape was easy. A little too easy.

I stepped out for the shadows, and the no-longer-lazy assassin set their eyes on me. He had a short stature, but had broad shoulders and a big chest. I aimed a punch for his nose but he blocked it with his arm and did a twist which made me land on my back with a loud grunt. He took a punch at my jaw and aimed for another but I spun to my left and stood up, rubbing the spot where he hit me. There was definitely going to be bruise there.

I wasn't exactly thrilled.

Within the next minute, I had him unconscious.

I grabbed my bow and wrapped the quiver around my back, the familiar weight on my back gave me a sense of warm comfort. I gripped the bow in my left hand, an arrow already notched.