Secrets of the sherwood forest

10

15 minutes. That's how long I have to wait in the burning sun, surrounded by a crowd of big, sweaty men, wearing the thickest piece of clothing I own.

One by one, these men walk up to the shooting range and do their thing, trying to impress the ladies in the crowd, winking at the 15-year-old in the VIP-area, Kendra.

My leg keeps shaking more and more as my turn comes closer. I try to force it to stop, but that just makes my hand start tapping my thigh instead.

I keep looking to the crowd, glaring at my friends that somehow made it to the front row. Every time one of them notices they smile and wave at me, giving me a thumbs up of support.

Some of the men around me talk with each other, still glaring at my direction.

Ten minutes into waiting and one of the biggest men in town walks up to me. He has dark brown hair and burned skin.

"Hello, is everything alright?" I ask the man once I realize he has come to talk to me.

"No, it is not." He tells me, without even greeting me first. How rude.

"Could you elaborate?" I ask the man politely, doing my best to avoid conflict.

"You little boy just came in here and decided to disrespect your elders, huh?" He starts almost yelling at me.

Now a couple of the other men around us start glaring in our direction, probably wondering if they should get involved or not.

"Excuse me, but I don't understand what you mean by 'disrespecting your elders'. Could you please tell me what you mean?"

"You just came in here and started pretending that you're available to beat people who have done this before you were even born!" He starts ranting at me.

"I'm sorry, I'm here just to have a bit of fun, and just try this thing out. Who knows, maybe I am really good, and I'll get the money, that way my family could still keep living in here. I don't understand what's disrespectful about that."

I'm really tempted to ask him why he is here, but I don't really care for his answer, I just know that he's in here just to try to do stuff with Kendra.

He is about to reply, but that's when the skinny man finally helps me out and announces that its Nixon Fenne's turn.

I get up and say "That's me, I have to go" to the man.

I can hear him mumble something about an entitled little brat as I walk away.

The entire crowd is staring at me as I walk to the arena. The laughing and loud talking quickly changes to whispers and questioning looks. I look for my friends in the crowd and they're all holding their thumbs up and smiling in the most supportive way possible.

I go to the line marking the spot I'm supposed to shoot from.

The target is only 20 meters away from me. The green and white paint is brand new so is the small red dot marking the centre. Even tough the target is full of arrows; nobody has hit it yet.

The skinny man tells me and the crowd all around me that I can shoot once I'm ready. I take a deep breath and pull an arrow from my quiver.

I give my friends one last look before I draw my bow and point my arrow at the bullseye. A few more deep breaths.

I close my eyes and let go of the arrow.

The silence around me is getting too long. Did I do something wrong? Did my hood fall of without me noticing.

I'm too scared to open my eyes, but I do it anyway.

And I'm glad I did.

The crowd and I process where my arrow is at the same time. Or at least that's when they start applauding; I hit the bullseye.

My self-made, ugly arrow has ruined the perfect, new red paint.

I really have to hold myself back from screaming of joy.

The skinny man announces my score and informs everyone there that I'll be going to the next round.

I walk back to the waiting area and to the man that yelled at me before.

"See, I'm not pretending to be better than any of you old men. I am better."

Everyone around us goes silent, waiting for him to beat me up or something.

I can almost see the smoke coming out of his ears and the fire in his eyes as he opens his mouth to replay, but he shuts it before anything comes out and walks away.

And this, my lovely readers, is how you get a townful of grown men afraid of you.

♡

Nothing interesting happens for hours after this. I shoot a few times more, getting myself ready to the final round.

The target is 50 meters away from me as I draw my bow once more.

And for the last time today, my arrow hits the bullseye.

Everyone cheers, but not as excitedly as the first time.

Now the only few people who have to try and beat that are few men I've actuallygiven money to, and some  clearly hyper-richguy I've never seen before. The mean guy? He didn't even make it to the 2nd round.

And for the last time today, my arrow hits the bullseye.

Everyone cheers, but not as excitedly as the first time.

Now the only few people who have to try and beat that are few men I've actually given money to, and some clearly hyper-rich guy I've never seen before. The mean guy? He didn't even make it to the 2nd round.

I am tired, hungry, and thirsty.

All I want right now is to go home.

But instead, I'm here, waiting for these men to shoot sticks at a wooden board. It's not that I don't like the vibes and the sport, but people are exhausting even when everyone is avoiding me.

I lay down on the stomped-down grass and instantly regret it. The sun is in a position where it's right in the centre of my field of vision.

I close my eyes and start thinking about the first time something was too bright for me after I met Edith.

It was the morning after a huge snowstorm. The entire forest was white and bright in the sunlight.

I hadn't realised this before I came out of my tent. The cold wasn't even that noticeable, but I had to immediately cover my eyes with my hand.

Edith didn't understand why I complained so much about the brightness. And I didn't get how she wasn't affected by it. I guess our eyes are different.

I listen to the people around me, so I know when to get up.

I hear the crowd cheer for the 3rd time after me, meaning the last guy is finally done. I get up, fix my hood, and pick up my stuff and walk to the gate of the arena.

The other men are there as well, and the rich guy is still in the arena.

Soon enough the skinny man announces that we can go in and that he'll announce the winner.

As we stand in a row, in order by height, the skinny man, Prince Jhon and Kendra all walk to stand in front of us, backs towards the crowd.

I can barely listen to thee man or the prince. All I can think of is Kendra. She's wearing a yellow, flowy dress and she looks absolutely amazing in it, just like always.

But her body language makes me know something is wrong. She is looking at her feet and playing with her hair, standing as far away from the prince as possible. I feel bad for her.

I get back to what I'm supposed to be focusing on when the skinny man announces that the winner is Nixon Fenne.

Everyone starts cheering as I step forward and the man hands me a heavy bag, full of money.

The next thing I remember I am walking to a red tent I somehow hadn't noticed yet, Kendra walking next to me and the skinny man leading us forward.