I lined up next to the other semi-finalists once again. Out of the four of us, I had the lowest score thus far, which meant that I had to step up my game if I hoped to make it to the finals. I thought of actually going head to head with Fletching, the head instructor for the archer academy and my own teacher as a young adult. It was overwhelming.
Still, I had to focus on the task at hand and on getting more than one bulls-eye at 75 meters.
“Take your aim!”
I pulled an arrow from my quiver, my hand shaking slightly as I struggled to focus. I recall being nervous that this would throw off my aim, but then reminding myself that I was in control. As I notched the arrow, I became like a rock, my arm holding steady.
“Commence firing!”
I locked in on the target. Though some elves struggled with seeing the target at this distance, I could still focus in on the bulls-eye with relative ease. Still, I had to account for the wind and also for the distance. After locking in on the bulls-eye, I raised my bow a few centimeters up and very slightly to the left. There was only a light breeze –barely noticeable.
After letting the first arrow fly, I notched another and refocused on the target. I felt my stomach flutter.
The first one had landed in the bulls-eye. One down, two more to go.
I let the second one fly on the same trajectory. As before, I reloaded before observing the impact. Once again, I was not disappointed and gave myself a mental pat on the back for another bulls-eye.
Loading the final shot, I took aim and let it fly, but as I did I realized I was letting the excitement get the best of me. In the split second that it took to reload, I had failed to account for an increase in wind speed. I focused in on the target and it seemed like hours before the arrow landed. When it did, I felt my stomach sink slightly.
The arrow had kept true to the center, but the wind had carried it significantly to the side. It sat embedded in the eight ring.
To make matter worse, I was the last one to finish and apparently had fallen behind with my shots. Just as I looked to count everyone else’s shots, one of the judges came and hurried us all along. I didn’t know where I stood, but all odds were that I needed three bulls-eyes if I hoped to advance.
