Alkara and Chiron sit on the bench just outside the office of Uncle Iro’s friend, Cato the Elder. Alkara swings her feet absently while Chiron plays with a small puzzle box Uncle Iro had gotten him on their last trip into the elves’ forest. Reäsin made. The trickiest of the Glöhasin. Their puzzles are just as likely to be intellectually challenging as deceive the solver into a false line of thinking. Only the best for Uncle Iro’s new favorite.
Alkara rolls her eyes at herself. Uncle Iro doesn’t have favorites. She knows that. She’s just a little jealous that puzzles and traps don’t make any sense to her, and the two of them seem to have so much fun with them together. Sure Chiron doesn’t much enjoy archery when Uncle Iro takes them out to shoot. But he’d picked up throwing knives quickly enough! She doesn’t have any way to participate when they start making a new contraption. And they seem fine with leaving her out. She doesn’t like that.
She likes it even less when they trick her into walking into their new contraptions. She wonders if maybe she should be grateful that at least she was included in some way. But she isn’t. In spite of Uncle Iro’s best efforts to use them as playful teaching moments, Alkara was always too angry and embarrassed to get much out of it. Chiron’s laughter didn’t help.
Alkara shakes her head and smiles. Chiron does make her laugh though. Hard. His jokes range from clever, to absurd, to outright dumb. But for whatever reason, she always laughs. In spite of her jealousy, she’s glad he’d stuck around.
“Oh my, is Cato interviewing children now?” A soft, round, soprano voice says drily.
Alkara looks up to see a half-elf woman with violet skin, golden brown eyes, and dark brown hair immaculately platted and elegantly wrapped around the crown of her head. Simply but neatly dressed, her eyes flicker to the bow slung around Alkara’s shoulder. She arches an eyebrow.
Alkara hops off the bench and crosses her arms, “So what if he is? What’s it got to do with you?” Chiron looks up for a brief moment, but then returns back to his puzzle box.
The woman’s eyebrows rise a bit with surprise, “You’re not very polite are you? I hope you’re better with that bow than you are with your manners. Though maybe you’re too young to be any good with either.” She crosses her arms and smirks.
Alkara scowls, “I am not! I bet I could beat you!”
“Alkara!” Chiron says in a loud whisper, still not looking up from his puzzle. “Uncle Iro said not to cause any trouble. That’s why he brought us inside, remember?”
Ignoring Chiron, the woman raises both her eyebrows at Alkara, “”Of course you could. A jouster would easily beat a fencer.” After a confused look from Alkara, she continues, “In this example you’re the jouster. However, I have several considerably talented archers under my employ. I sincerely doubt you could beat them.”
“Tch!” Alkara puts her fists on her hips. “Bring it on lady. But don’t blame me if they quit when they lose.”
The woman throws back her head and laughs, smoothly placing her hands on her hips. “Well if they do quit then I have their replacement ready and waiting don’t I? Although…” She looks Alkara up and down again, “You really will need to learn some manners.” She pauses, looking thoughtful, “Come by the headquarters of the Northern Blackshaw Company tomorrow morning. We’ll see if you’re as good as you say you are.”
The next morning…
Alkara looses her last arrow and scowls as she watches it miss the center of a bullseye by about a finger’s breadth. She wasn’t doing poorly. These guys were just better than she was. It’s pissing her off.
“Clear! Thank you Hany, Kleston. That will be all.”
After two crisp salutes, the two archers gather the arrows, including Alkara’s, return them to her, and leave the range.
“And you, what did you say your name was again?” The woman turns back to Alkara, handing her the retrieved arrows.
Alkara grits her teeth and turns to the woman. She takes the arrows and shoves them back into her quiver. “It’s Alkara. I’ve told you like three times now.”
“Well maybe next time you’ll give me a reason to remember it.” The woman smirks.
Alkara clenches her jaw, “Shut up lady. I shoot better than any kid in town. It’s not my fault your guys have had twice as much time to practice. Of course they’re going to beat me. Doesn’t say much about them does it?”
“My my, poor manners and a sore loser. What ever will your Uncle do with you?”
Alkara growls, “Whatever lady. I’ll be better than those guys within the year.”
“Or what?” The half-elf woman challenges.
That catches Alkara off guard. “What… what do you mean or what?”
“If I give you a year and you still lose to my archers, what will you give me?”
Alkara looks at her like she’s crazy, “What…?”
“Oh, I know!” The woman says with suspicious glee, “If you lose, you will attend a year of Social Etiquette at Veynor’s School for the Incorrigible.”
Alkara feels disgust ripple through her, as well as a brief flash of fear. She grits her teeth, crosses her arms, and smiles. She can’t resist the challenge. “And if I win?”
“If you win, I’ll pay for a year’s worth of lessons from the best archery teacher in Three Rivers.”
Alkara’s eyes light up. “Lady, you’ve got yourself a deal.”
The woman smiles with satisfaction and walks over to Alkara, extending her hand, “Wonderful. And it’s Kierra.”