The Chronicles of Time - Book 1: The Prince of Time [Complete]

Chapter IX: Nostalgia II

A/N: Thank you for reading up to this point! If you like this story at all, please vote or, even better, comment. :D

Chapter IX: Nostalgia II

Edited by: Silently

I took the iron bow from Dan's callused hands, admiring it.

It was surprisingly light; it didn't feel much different from an old wooden bow.

I traced my fingers on the cool surface of the metal and ran my fingers through the Cloud String, wondering how far it would shoot.

I once again ran my hands across the iron, and this time I felt a section with a rougher texture.

I looked down at the bow and was surprised to find that my name was carved onto the iron bow. Antonius Trace.

"It's yours," Dan nodded, following my gaze.

"I own a real - a real bow?" I stammered.

"You and I crafted it when you were only five-years-old. I'll bet you don't remember."

"I-I don't," I answered; I tried to recall any part of it, but my mind went fuzzy and my head ached.

"Well, there's one more thing to do. Test it. If you could hit that apple over there," he directed, pointing at a gleaming red apple that sat on an anvil approximately fifteen feet away from me. I wonder if he was going to crush it or something.

"I'll let you have all your old equipment back. Oh, and only you can shoot using that bow; I tried once and I never made a hit." I looked down at it. It really is special.

Dan handed me a quiver with a cap that had my initials scrawled onto it - the writing was horrible, and seemed no better than a preschooler's.

I popped it open and grabbed a silver arrow. I notched it on the bow, took a deep breath as I pull it, and exhaled as I released it.

The arrow went whizzed towards the apple in a blur.

Skye, Dan, and I watched as the arrow passed through the apple, and, leaving a good-sized hole behind, it clattered down to the ground somewhere behind the anvil.

The apple tottered back and forth but didn't move too much; the shot was a smooth one.

"Just like your father," Dan nodded in approval.

He handed me a blade crafted of sky-iron that came with a leather sheath; a few more of his "special arrows"; a handful of smoke bombs for the upcoming fight; and a little bit of fresh-squeezed lemon juice from his cafeteria.

As Felix and I drank the sour liquid, Dan asked me a question that I definitely wasn't expecting. "Anthony, how old do you think I am?"

"In your fifties, I guess?" I said, unsure.

"I am 1495 years old now; I saw Nicholas, your father (Alfrey), and the other princes and princesses grow up. Since the king was busy, I taught them how to craft, how to ride a horse, and most of all, how to fight," said Dan, and my eyes widened. 1495? He's...old.

I stared at him, captivated, but Skye tugged on my arm, whispering, "Let's go. We have a team meeting in five minutes."

She dragged me to the door and Sophia landed on Felix's back. "Get off of me, birdbrain." He shook Sophia off; she fluttered up briefly before diving down to land on his back again.

"We have to go, drool-nose," she countered.

Nicholas told me that a wolf Edheros's fur was his or her armor, and after this, I believed him. Sophia should have been able to dig her sharp talons into Felix's back, but was not able to penetrate his fur.