Spark

Chapter One

Left target, top right bicep. Deep breath in: Kageyama's body turned sharply as his fingers released a throwing knife. With insane speed and accuracy, the small projectile sailed end-over-end through the air before embedding itself hilt-deep in the soft fiber of the human-shaped wooden target to his far left.

He sighed and relaxed out of his throwing position, studying his work calculatingly. It was a good shot, but by no means perfect. He knew a guy who had hit the broadside of a fleeing Witch twenty feet away in a dense forest on horseback. Of course, the man was head of the Gold Unit and Kageyama's own superior officer, but that meant nothing to him. If someone else could make a shot that outrageous, he could, too.

Crossing the few feet to reach the target, Kageyama yanked the knife free with a scowl, flipping it through his fingers to study the leather-bound hilt, scrutinizing it. The knife would be much lighter and easier to throw with the leather wrapping, but gripping the bare blade would make it more slippery: easier to botch an easy shot and accidentally take out someone's eye. Was he willing to risk it for the sake of lowered air resistance? It would increase the power of the knife on impact...

Whatever. He'd just leave the wrappings on for now. Though he now had the irrational urge to petition a new set of throwing knives from the royal blacksmith, ones both safe, light, and easy to handle. Maybe hollow wooden hilts would be a sufficient replacement for the leather. That way he could have them made with a custom grip; easier to throw quickly and accurately.

Of course, he had his Witchblades, but those were only ideal for close combat. Every Witchhunter was given a set when Knighted into the Royal Extermination Corp, the sleek sickle-shaped blades specially designed to take off a Witch's head in one clean flick of the wrist. Kageyama had nothing against the weapons, but he much preferred bows and other long-range weapons as his strong-suit had always been his impeccable aim.

Striking quickly and from a distance was much safer and smarter than getting close enough to look a Witch in the eye. Close-range combat with a magic user was always fighting blind. And those blistering Witchblades left way too many weak spots. Kageyama much preferred the feeling of a knife flying from between his fingers or an arrow whizzing past his ear as he released a taut bowstring. The feeling of hitting a hard-to-reach target and bringing them down with one shot was exhilarating—a feeling second to none.

Kageyama studied the weapon between his fingers for a few more seconds, still discontent with the weapon and its many flaws. Letting out a chagrined exhalation, he flipped the instrument through his fingers and shifted his body to face a new target. "Oh well. This will have to do." Though, he really would have to have a chat with the Weapons Master about this. How irritating.

Lowering into an offensive stance, Kageyama cocked his arm back, prepared to let the knife fly once again, having settled his eyes on a new weak spot of the human body: the ankle. Ankles were hard to get to at times, but it was always handy to be able to hit one. If you cut it at the right angle, the target would be immobilized.

Of course, if it was a Witch, their magic would still function just fine, but that was another matter entirely, and one Kageyama would rather not address at that particular moment. Instead, he sharpened his senses as he always did before a throw, focusing wholly on his target, taking evened breaths as he gave himself his mark. Front target, side of left ankle.

The muscles in his wrist tensed in preparation of the throw as his fingers twitched imperceptibly, lining up perfectly with his target. It was a perfect shot. If he really wanted to show off, he could probably use two knives and hit both ankles at once. Maybe even do a theatrical flip. That would piss his fellow soldiers off for sure—not that any of them were watching.