kawa~ inspiration #106
Jun. 29th, 2006 03:39 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Final Test
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ kawa~ 106. Nol in the final challenge to get into the Own, good on 'im X3
~ ~ ~
Nolryn patted his camel on the head, taking a deep breath as he did so to calm himself. Last challenge. If he could just beat one of them in this one, he’d be in. Of course, it wasn’t the end of the world if he missed out this time. He was only eighteen; there would be other chances later on.
But he so desperately wanted to get in this time. He wanted to prove he could at least do this one right.
He tried to force the images of riding his own horse through the desert out of his mind, patting his faithful if stubborn camel on the head.
‘See?’ Naraan told him, pointing at the five targets that had just been nailed to the huge wooden gates that led into the palace grounds. ‘Just like cliff training, only with a door instead of a cliff.’
‘And half of Ni-Yana lining the run,’ Nol added, looking around at the people hanging from palms and almost falling off rooftops. Some—mostly the young women—squealed and waved madly when they realised he’d seen them, and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes briefly.
‘You reckon?’ Naraan asked, standing up in his stirrups and shading his eyes against the sun. ‘I’d say at least three thousand.’
The prince’s shoulders slouched, then he straightened in the saddle and took another deep breath.
His old archery master patted him encouragingly on the back. ‘You’re good enough for this, Nol.’
Gylepi laughed beside him. ‘You’re not supposed to encourage him, Naraan! He’s the challenger!’
‘Force of habit,’ Naraan defended.
Murali shrugged. ‘His position was never in question.’
‘Naraan’s trying to kick us out!’ Gylepi said in mock horror, pointing accusingly at the archery master.
‘Not if I’ve got anything to do with it,’ Garuk grinned. He kicked his gelding into action and tore off up the road towards the palace gate, flinging arrows from his bow two or three at a time.
Nolryn could see the distinctive blue feathers of Garuk’s fletching sticking out of the target, all bristling at least from the centre two circles. He didn’t doubt that middle red had been filled to capacity with blue-feathered arrows as well.
The archer finally pulled his horse in, just barely stopping him before he hit the gates, then casually inspected his target and turned the gelding around, patting him on the neck as he trotted back to the other four. He was completely ignoring the deafening roar of the crowd lining the Main Road.
‘Wrong target, quael,’ Gylepi teased with a lopsided grin. ‘That one’s mine.’
Garuk shrugged. ‘Guess you’ll just have to accept that pitiful attempt as yours then.’
The half-desert archer snorted and unslung his bow. ‘Pitiful my arse. I’ll show you pitiful.’ He kicked his chocolate and black stallion into action, and his own, red-feathered arrows were flying before Nol had had a chance to gawk at Garuk’s target. Another deafening roar arose from the crowd as he reined his horse in. The centre of his target bristled with red arrows in much the same pattern as Garuk’s, but from here at least, it looked slightly more spread out, with maybe one or two in the third ring.
Naraan didn’t waste any time in kicking off himself, tearing towards the gates at top speed and planting his arrows in his target in the most compact pattern yet. It hardly surprised Nol though; he’d known Naraan since he was a young boy, and the old archer had been teaching him to use a bow since he was strong enough to pull a bowstring.
The archery master wheeled his mare around, then stood up in the stirrups and raised both arms above his head, to the great delight of the three thousand people who had turned out to watch today. The other archers groaned and shook their heads, and Nol couldn’t help grinning. Naraan had even been like that in his archery lesions.
‘Modest as ever,’ Garuk mumbled.
‘You know,’ Gylepi mused, ‘We’d probably hate him if he was a purple shirt.’
‘Oh, Aeia yes.’
Nol took another deep breath and shook his head. ‘May as well get this over with,’ he muttered to himself, then unslung his bow once more and did his best to steel himself and block out the sounds of the crowd around him. ‘Just me and the target, nothing else, just the target… now GO!’
He kicked his heels more violently than necessary into his camel’s flanks, sending it loping down the road towards the target. Arrows were instantly flinging from his bowstring, two, three, four at a time, fwipping over the camel’s head and into the rapidly approaching target. Whip them out of the quiver, nick them in the string, pull back, let go and reach back for more. The easy, natural rhythm of the action helped him to keep his head and concentrate on just aiming the things right and gauging the camel’s strides so he was able to fire when its gait was at its smoothest.
All too soon the target rushed up on him. He grappled for the reins with his free hand and pulled hard, earning a disgruntled honking sound from the camel’s mouth, telling him that yes, it knew the gates were there and had no intention of running into them.
Nol let out the breath he’d been holding for the whole run, looking at his target and comparing it with the other three that had already been filled. The spread was similar to Gylepi’s, but it wasn’t quite so thickly feathered. He was just as accurate, but not quite as fast or as skilled at firing multiple arrows at once.
Not bad, but certainly not the best. He was relying on Murali to do worse than him now.
He slung his bow back over his shoulder, frowning down at the back of his camel’s head and biting his bottom lip anxiously, then pulled his bandana off and shook out his hair as he raked his fingers through it. It was dripping with nerves, heat and the sheer physical exertion of the past two hours.
‘Smile, Nol!’ Naraan told him.
He looked up and smiled weakly at the master’s over-done grin. There was a sharp breeze from his left as Murali took off down towards the targets.
‘I’m on the bottom,’ he reminded Naraan, slipping his bandanna back around his neck and up onto his brow.
Naraan frowned in mild confusion. ‘Haven’t you realised it yet? You’re better than Murali.’
The prince raised his eyebrows and glanced back over his shoulder, where Murali was just pulling up, not turning his horse away from the targets. Even from here, Nolryn could see that the arrows in Murali’s target were just slightly more spread out than his own, and there didn’t seem to be quite so many red feathers sticking out of the rings.
‘Welcome aboard,’ Naraan said with a broad grin, patting the prince on the back.
Gylepi walked his stallion over and slung one arm over Nol’s shoulders. ‘Oh yeah, we got the prince. We’re so much better than the harem now.’
‘The harem?’ Nol asked, raising an eyebrow at his fellow Own rider.
‘Swordies,’ Garuk clarified, ‘We’ll explain at the pub tonight. You get to buy the whole of the Own a round, lucky boy.’
The prince shook his head, finally able to laugh now that it was sinking in. ‘I’m in!’
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine
Notes~ kawa~ 106. Nol in the final challenge to get into the Own, good on 'im X3
Nolryn patted his camel on the head, taking a deep breath as he did so to calm himself. Last challenge. If he could just beat one of them in this one, he’d be in. Of course, it wasn’t the end of the world if he missed out this time. He was only eighteen; there would be other chances later on.
But he so desperately wanted to get in this time. He wanted to prove he could at least do this one right.
He tried to force the images of riding his own horse through the desert out of his mind, patting his faithful if stubborn camel on the head.
‘See?’ Naraan told him, pointing at the five targets that had just been nailed to the huge wooden gates that led into the palace grounds. ‘Just like cliff training, only with a door instead of a cliff.’
‘And half of Ni-Yana lining the run,’ Nol added, looking around at the people hanging from palms and almost falling off rooftops. Some—mostly the young women—squealed and waved madly when they realised he’d seen them, and he couldn’t help rolling his eyes briefly.
‘You reckon?’ Naraan asked, standing up in his stirrups and shading his eyes against the sun. ‘I’d say at least three thousand.’
The prince’s shoulders slouched, then he straightened in the saddle and took another deep breath.
His old archery master patted him encouragingly on the back. ‘You’re good enough for this, Nol.’
Gylepi laughed beside him. ‘You’re not supposed to encourage him, Naraan! He’s the challenger!’
‘Force of habit,’ Naraan defended.
Murali shrugged. ‘His position was never in question.’
‘Naraan’s trying to kick us out!’ Gylepi said in mock horror, pointing accusingly at the archery master.
‘Not if I’ve got anything to do with it,’ Garuk grinned. He kicked his gelding into action and tore off up the road towards the palace gate, flinging arrows from his bow two or three at a time.
Nolryn could see the distinctive blue feathers of Garuk’s fletching sticking out of the target, all bristling at least from the centre two circles. He didn’t doubt that middle red had been filled to capacity with blue-feathered arrows as well.
The archer finally pulled his horse in, just barely stopping him before he hit the gates, then casually inspected his target and turned the gelding around, patting him on the neck as he trotted back to the other four. He was completely ignoring the deafening roar of the crowd lining the Main Road.
‘Wrong target, quael,’ Gylepi teased with a lopsided grin. ‘That one’s mine.’
Garuk shrugged. ‘Guess you’ll just have to accept that pitiful attempt as yours then.’
The half-desert archer snorted and unslung his bow. ‘Pitiful my arse. I’ll show you pitiful.’ He kicked his chocolate and black stallion into action, and his own, red-feathered arrows were flying before Nol had had a chance to gawk at Garuk’s target. Another deafening roar arose from the crowd as he reined his horse in. The centre of his target bristled with red arrows in much the same pattern as Garuk’s, but from here at least, it looked slightly more spread out, with maybe one or two in the third ring.
Naraan didn’t waste any time in kicking off himself, tearing towards the gates at top speed and planting his arrows in his target in the most compact pattern yet. It hardly surprised Nol though; he’d known Naraan since he was a young boy, and the old archer had been teaching him to use a bow since he was strong enough to pull a bowstring.
The archery master wheeled his mare around, then stood up in the stirrups and raised both arms above his head, to the great delight of the three thousand people who had turned out to watch today. The other archers groaned and shook their heads, and Nol couldn’t help grinning. Naraan had even been like that in his archery lesions.
‘Modest as ever,’ Garuk mumbled.
‘You know,’ Gylepi mused, ‘We’d probably hate him if he was a purple shirt.’
‘Oh, Aeia yes.’
Nol took another deep breath and shook his head. ‘May as well get this over with,’ he muttered to himself, then unslung his bow once more and did his best to steel himself and block out the sounds of the crowd around him. ‘Just me and the target, nothing else, just the target… now GO!’
He kicked his heels more violently than necessary into his camel’s flanks, sending it loping down the road towards the target. Arrows were instantly flinging from his bowstring, two, three, four at a time, fwipping over the camel’s head and into the rapidly approaching target. Whip them out of the quiver, nick them in the string, pull back, let go and reach back for more. The easy, natural rhythm of the action helped him to keep his head and concentrate on just aiming the things right and gauging the camel’s strides so he was able to fire when its gait was at its smoothest.
All too soon the target rushed up on him. He grappled for the reins with his free hand and pulled hard, earning a disgruntled honking sound from the camel’s mouth, telling him that yes, it knew the gates were there and had no intention of running into them.
Nol let out the breath he’d been holding for the whole run, looking at his target and comparing it with the other three that had already been filled. The spread was similar to Gylepi’s, but it wasn’t quite so thickly feathered. He was just as accurate, but not quite as fast or as skilled at firing multiple arrows at once.
Not bad, but certainly not the best. He was relying on Murali to do worse than him now.
He slung his bow back over his shoulder, frowning down at the back of his camel’s head and biting his bottom lip anxiously, then pulled his bandana off and shook out his hair as he raked his fingers through it. It was dripping with nerves, heat and the sheer physical exertion of the past two hours.
‘Smile, Nol!’ Naraan told him.
He looked up and smiled weakly at the master’s over-done grin. There was a sharp breeze from his left as Murali took off down towards the targets.
‘I’m on the bottom,’ he reminded Naraan, slipping his bandanna back around his neck and up onto his brow.
Naraan frowned in mild confusion. ‘Haven’t you realised it yet? You’re better than Murali.’
The prince raised his eyebrows and glanced back over his shoulder, where Murali was just pulling up, not turning his horse away from the targets. Even from here, Nolryn could see that the arrows in Murali’s target were just slightly more spread out than his own, and there didn’t seem to be quite so many red feathers sticking out of the rings.
‘Welcome aboard,’ Naraan said with a broad grin, patting the prince on the back.
Gylepi walked his stallion over and slung one arm over Nol’s shoulders. ‘Oh yeah, we got the prince. We’re so much better than the harem now.’
‘The harem?’ Nol asked, raising an eyebrow at his fellow Own rider.
‘Swordies,’ Garuk clarified, ‘We’ll explain at the pub tonight. You get to buy the whole of the Own a round, lucky boy.’
The prince shook his head, finally able to laugh now that it was sinking in. ‘I’m in!’
no subject
Date: 2006-06-28 07:09 pm (UTC)Okay, I lied.
But yay for Nol getting in, even though we knew he would because, duh, we know the future =3 He's so cute and innocent in a way though. =DDD
no subject
Date: 2006-06-29 05:52 am (UTC)Mmm, War. With a pancake on his head. Like the bunnybunnybunny! =D
no subject
Date: 2006-06-29 01:24 am (UTC)... *cackles* XD That needs to be printed on a banner, translated into some other language and used as a motto.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-29 05:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-27 03:37 pm (UTC)FANGIRLS! *hearts the inclusion*
flinging arrows from his bow two or three at a time.
I still say that's physically not possible because the tail-feathers would be too close to each other and you'd have holding issues with a lack of fingers. And will say it unless I see it with my own eyes, in real life.
Naraan had even been like that in his archery lesions.
In their what? *hearts Naraan, though*
finally able to laugh now that it was sinking in
Gosh, you're fast, Nol. *likes muchly*
That was a fun, fun thing, me dear. ^-^ I liked how Nol's insecurity comes across here and the ease of Naraan. Seriously, you write Naraan incredibly well. More Naraan! *waves a banner about*