Adurna

Training

Chapter Fifteen-

“What are we gunna do today?” I questioned Eragon over our usual silent breakfast. He looked up at me from his bowl before finishing quickly. He rose to his feet and walked calmly away from our camp ground. Stuffing my mouth full of the last of my food, I darted to my feet to follow. He leads me without a word through the dense trees until we come across a small clearing with a lone tree standing proudly in the middle of it. My eyes shift to him quickly, before darting away once I realized he was already staring at me.

“Target practice.” Eragon replied after pulling the bow he almost always wore off his back. My eyes widened at the large piece of bent wood in his hands. I swallowed hard. Weapon use was not my favorite.

“Are you sure we can’t learn some more words?” My eyes searched his expression quickly, but only found amusement in his eyes. My heart faltered slightly from the look he gave me.

“You already know the Ancient Language forwards and back,” Eragon breathed, handing me his over-sized bow. “It’s time to move on.”

I couldn’t argue. Sometimes I found myself speaking in the Ancient Language without my knowledge. Of course, Eragon was impressed, but he had a point. No matter how much I disliked this part of being a Dragon Rider, I had to be able to defend myself.

“Fine,” I said curtly, reluctantly grabbing hold of the weapon in my seemingly tiny hands. “But I won’t enjoy this.”

Eragon smiled a small smile at that and backed up a few steps. I watched his retreating self in confusion. Once he was a few yards away, he gestured towards the tree. “Shoot.”

“Aren’t you going to show me how first?” I asked, my voice shaking in silly fear. Eragon just shook his head and pointed at the small tree effortlessly. He didn’t say anything while I watched him with an astonished expression. “You’re crazy.” I mumbled, taking an arrow from the pack he left beside my feet. His quiet laugh reached my eardrums like a soothing rhythm.

The handmade arrow was smooth to the touch and hard. Stroking it for a moment, I decided just how I was going to do this. The way I was supposed to hold it was beyond me. Holding it close to me, I placed the arrow on the string and pulled back. Trying to steady my shaking hands, I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes quickly as I let the string slid free of my fingers.

The arrow landed softly on the ground a foot in front of me.

My arm stung from where the string had slashed against the exposed skin. Sure enough, there was an angry red mark streaked across my arm; the perfect size for the idiotic rope that couldn’t even shoot a single arrow. I crossed my arms and glared at the chuckling Eragon.

“If it’s so easy,” I complained, pushing my curls out of my face so he could see the full force of my eyes on him. “Why don’t you try it?” I knew it was juvenile, and that he had probably done it a million times and possibly mastered the skill, but what did he expect from me? I was a waitress, after all.

Eragon shook his head in wonder, and strode towards me with a semi-cocky smile. I glowered at him while he took the bow in his strong hands. He looked at me for a moment, as if sizing me up, before knocking the arrow onto the bow. I raised my eyebrows at him in anticipation. He just smiled widely, flashing his sharp, white teeth yet again. Suddenly, Eragon yanked the string back, creating a perfect T shape with his arms and body. I blinked in surprise. His ridged body was perfectly aligned and stiff with the power he held in his arms. I watched his arm muscles constrict and sharpen as they held taunt to the sting in his rough fingers. I heard him take in a long breath, and before I realized what was happening, the arrow shot out from the bow. A cold, dead thump echoed through the clearing. I looked at the tree and saw the arrow sticking straight out of the middle.