18

                                    

                                          
ELYSTIA
Sidra asks me how my first lecture went, and I answer with a sigh. I spent hours waiting, but no one came, and I can only blame myself. If only I had been as social as Sidra, I would have bonded with more entertainers and motivated them to come.
I shouldn't beat myself over this, but the Captain was generous enough to give me a job to save me from getting kicked out of camp, and I'm failing him. How can I look him in the face and tell him no one is interested in archery? How will I pull my weight around camp if I'm not fucking masters or teaching entertainers?
I play with an arrow, twirling it between my fingers as Sidra excuses herself from the tent to offer me privacy. I set the arrow down and purse my lips, refusing to sit here and pity myself. With or without entertainers, I still have plenty of work to do.
I unroll the parchment with the Zolano alphabet and stare at the characters. Some look familiar, and others look so strange I'm tempted to roll the parchment to escape the incoming headache.
I set my shoulders and inhale. It took me years to master archery, but I had to start somewhere. Reading is the next weapon that I will master.
– • –
I spent the following day helping Sidra in the kitchen, dreading the afternoon when my archery lecture was scheduled. I don't want to spend another day in the forest staring at arrows and waiting for students that won't come.
Sidra, me, and a few of the servants steal a few snacks. We giggled and exchanged names, and for a moment, I forgot about the loneliness I felt yesterday in the forest.
It all ends too soon. I mope on my way to my tent, where I collect my materials. I bring fewer arrows and targets, convinced I won't need them. On the way to the forest, I notice a stream of Entertainers walking the same path. Strange. I didn't know they held fireside chats in the forest. Especially not so early.
When a handful of girls greet me, I realize they're not here for a fireside chat. They're here for archery, and I didn't bring enough arrows.
I run back to my tent, my thoughts scattered as I grab as many as I can. Fuck. I should have made more! And I need bows, too. And targets and–
How did this happen? At least four dozen entertainers were marching into the forest. I would have been surprised if two showed up. But nearly fifty is incredible!
Joy and anxiety tangle in my belly. I clutch my materials to my chest, crumpling the targets as I run to the forest where the girls await.
This is going to be a long day. And I couldn't be more excited.
– • –
"So, how was today's lecture?" Sidra asks, smirking as I lay on my bed with wild hair and limbs haphazardly hanging off my bed. I'm exhausted. The entertainers had a thousand questions today. I ran around, letting them try my bow and ensuring they didn't land an arrow in someone's eye. I answered their questions, corrected their footing, and assured them that the bowstring won't snap. They laughed, smiled, and showed a genuine interest in my most beloved hobby. I felt appreciated for those three wonderful hours.
"Uh..." I lick my dry lips. Unable to form a sentence after three hours of talking nonstop. "Tired," I manage.
Sidra chuckles. "Get some rest. I'm going to hang out with the girls from the kitchen. I'll be late so don't wait for me!"
I close my eyes as she rummages through her bag, barely processing when she says, "bye. Don't forget to tie your wrist."
I mumble a goodbye and plunge deep into darkness. I dream of my family. Faces of women that I miss and think of every time I shoot an arrow, wishing I could fly as freely back to them.
ELYSTIA: SLEEPWALKING
I'm not sure what time it is when I awake, but it's dark, and I'm alone. I rise from my bed and follow the light that comes from the outside, scanning the desolate camp. No one is around. A cool breeze brushes my thin nightgown.
I start roaming. A girl greets me, but I don't remember her name. I mumble something that doesn't sound like a word and continue walking.
I head toward the forest. I have work to do. Maybe I can collect wood to make arrows. Maybe I should look for the headmistress and tell her that I'm not ignorant and I'm learning to read. Or maybe I should tell her that I didn't fuck any of my male family members. Maybe I should find Kinno. The elder woman is a bit mean, but she's fun. Or maybe I should–
"Elystia!" a man calls for me. I recognize his voice.
I turn and find him jogging to meet me. Thoughts of reading, incest, and scammers immediately vanish.
When he stops before me, I inhale deeply and blurt, "Smoke?"
"I was meditating by the fire. What are you doing out here?"
I can't make sense of his answer; can't focus on it. All I register is that his voice deep and rumbling. A warning of the power in his chest. I instinctively take a step forward. He towers over me, blocking the moonlight. I can't see his face, but I have him burned into my memory. I can picture every muscle on his chest. And as I stand before him, I have a heightened awareness of the numbness in my body and the fogginess in my mind. I step forward, like a twiki attracted to light. Craving the fire he offers that will warm my numbness and light the fogginess. I press my chest against his and rise to my tippytoes, kissing him.
He takes over instantly, inhaling deeply as he grips my biceps and pulls me closer. Sliding his tongue into my mouth slowly, tasting and taking me. There's a pressure against my belly. A hardness. I'm not sure what that is, but I don't care. I'll take everything he offers.
One of his hands slides down my back and loops under my skirt, rubbing my sex from behind. I part my legs, moaning into his mouth as my pussy gushes and wets his fingers. He keeps my panties hooked to the side, making way for his thick fingers. I swing my hips, beckoning more. More friction, more speed, more fingers. I want him to finger-fuck me until I smell just like he does–smoke and desire.
He pulls his lips away, but he keeps his fingers pressing on my clit. "You're barefoot," he says, his voice deeper. "Why are you barefoot?"
I don't know, either. But I've had enough of his confusing words. I just want to keep entangling my body with his.
"Fuck," he grits. "Are you asleep?"
I mumble something incoherent. Confused about this conversation and forgetful of how I got here. I can only make sense of my emotions and instincts–my desire and eagerness. I feel safe with this man. I want to be closer even if his conversation makes no sense, I'm unsure what I'm replying.
He sweeps me into his arms. "I'm taking you to my tent."
I don't understand what he's saying. But I'm comfortable in his arms and have no desire to fight his embrace. I furrow into his embrace and listen to his heartbeat as he walks to camp.