“Are you an archer?” a young man with dusky skin and faint elven features asked Jack. It was hard to tell his age. He could be sixteen or over thirty.
Jack shook his head. “No, Novice Scribe. Just taking up archery for fitness… and protection.”
The young man nodded. “Same here. Apprentice Merchant.” He patted the bow slung over his shoulder. “Travelling outside the city’s not safe these days. My merchant group lost an entire caravan to goblins. Only two survivors.”
Jack nodded in understanding. He’d had a few close calls in his past life when travelling between cities and towns. He remembered too well the dangers of the roads, bandits, beasts, goblins, and worse.
The young man extended his hand. “Graham. My friends call me Grey.”
Jack returned the handshake. “Jack. I’ll let you know what my friends call me when I have some.” He grinned.
Laughter rippled through the group, and the others introduced themselves one by one to Jack:
Ella, Novice Archer, who booked the training room; Nessa, Novice Archer with muscular arms; Pip, a cheeky-faced Apprentice Stable Hand who looked far too small to be carrying a longbow; And Toma, a fourteen-year-old farmer’s son who wants to be an archer in the King’s Army.
Ella, the Novice Archer who booked the room, asked, “Is everyone good with having the room set to Novice Archer, level one, beginner level one?”
Jack shrugged. “I’m fine with varying wind and lights.” He knew the higher settings only affected the wind and light settings. The remaining options were user-specific; each of them could set their targets to move faster or even fire back.
Most of the others nodded.
In a nervous voice, Toma asked, “It’s my first time. Will I be okay?”
Ella smiled. “You’ll be fine. The main settings only change the wind and lights. You can set your targets to remain still.”
Toma nodded and looked relieved.
“We should start on beginner level ten, it’s brutal.” Nessa grinned. “I got 16% accuracy last time. My shoulder was sore for days.” She rubbed her right shoulder.
“Yeah, let’s throw the kid in at the deep end and put him off archery for good.” Ella patted Toma on the shoulder.
Toma gave a nervous smile.
Jack glanced at Toma. The boy’s clothes looked old and patched. His bow was made from a single piece of wood and had a rough finish. Did he make it himself? He looked for the boy’s quiver, but he didn’t have one. No quiver. Probably doesn’t have the skill to make arrows yet.
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Many commoners fashioned their own bows from local yew trees. Though low-quality, it wouldn’t stop the system from offering the teenager the archer class when he turned sixteen.
“I nearly got hit by an aether-blast last week.” Pip smiles. “It singed me fringe!”
Jack chuckled. “That’s the fun part. Those blasts are a menace, will take your hair right off.”
They all laughed; Pip had a shaved head.
As they joked and laughed, the heavy door to Training Room 13 opened with a clunk of gears and a puff of blue spent aether-steam. Three sweaty, red-faced men emerged, each with bows slung over their backs and grins on their faces.
“You’re up,” one of them said, nodding to the group. “Room’s still warm. Have fun, kids.”
“Thanks.” Grey led the group into Training Room 13.
Training Room 13 was the same as the day before. Long and narrow, with reinforced walls of riveted metal and wood, and the faint, lingering scent of sweat and spent aether-steam. Blue aether-light flickered along the floor filigree, activating as they entered. The air stirred with the mechanical breath of the room, faint gusts of wind simulating mild weather conditions.
Jack smiled. I can’t believe I’m excited for archery practice. After all the pain, he never thought he could enjoy training for a combat class, but here he was, eager to train.
While the six of them were waiting outside, they’d decided which training lane each should occupy. They were to be ordered from least trained on the left to most trained on the right. The order was Toma on the far left, followed by Jack, Pip, Grey, Nessa, and Ella on the far right.
This way, the training room could modify the wind and lights to match their level of experience. Toma would be subjected to the least wind, while Ella would be subjected to the most, assuming the individuals selected appropriate training levels.
They each found their places while the familiar aether-powered console clicked to life, the soft brass-voiced female announcer chiming in:
Welcome, adventurers.
Mechanical targeting range engaged.
Safety protocols active.
Please state your class and level.
One by one, they responded to the console.
“Novice Archer, level nine,” replied Ella.
Jack recalled an archer levelling speed table from a book. She’s been an archer for just over half a year.
The soft voice acknowledged her answer:
Adventurer one.
Novice Archer, level nine.
Please prepare your weapon.
“Novice Archer, level seven,” replied Nessa.
The soft voice acknowledged her answer:
Adventurer two.
Novice Archer, level seven.
Please prepare your weapon.
“Apprentice Merchant, level two,” replied Grey.
The soft voice acknowledged his answer:
Adventurer three.
Apprentice Merchant, level two.
Please prepare your weapon.
“Apprentice Stable Hand, level zero,” replied Pip.
The soft voice acknowledged his answer:
Adventurer four.
Apprentice Stable Hand, level zero.
Please prepare your weapon.
When it was Jack’s turn, he lied, “Novice Scribe. Level zero.”
The soft voice paused before acknowledging his answer:
Adventurer five.
Novice Scribe, Level zero.
Please prepare your weapon.
They all waited for Toma to reply.
“What do I say?” The boy looked confused.
Jack responded, “Say non-classed.”
“Non-classed?” Toma repeated.
The soft voice acknowledged his answer:
Adventurer six.
Non-classed.
Please prepare your weapon.
With a chorus of hisses and thunks, targets rose from the far wall, and the room hummed with energy. Quivers of practice arrows lined the back bench, each arrow inscribed with durability runes. Training bows of various sizes were available, though most used their own.
Chapter 088 The Boy And The Bow
