Weird, I know I posted here...
Okay, here goes again: Nice story, hope this is what happens after death XD
XD me too
My early memories are clouded; I was born on the 25th of May to Geraldine and Klein Smith and I grew up in Silvaren; Being born into a long line of skilled archer, that is what I am. My story starts when I'm ten years old, and attending an Archer Academy.
"I can't do it."
"Yes you can Kitty! Just try again!" I pull back my bow, and look down my arm. The target is large, with a small bulls-eye; I'm about to shoot but I lower my weapon to look at my instructor, who is sat down, and leaning on her hands watching me. Her fixtation was a little off-putting, bright brown eyes glittering mindlessly in the sun.
"Proffessor, can't you see? I'm a useless archer, I'll never make it!"
"Kitty, just shoot the target before I'm forced to put you in more remedial lessons." Her voice was suddenly cold, a quick change from the warm tone.
Turning around, I raise my bow and squint my eyes. Sigh, this was going to be a long day.
"FURY!!! FURY IN THE SCHOOL! EVERY ONE TO THE DORMETORIES!" A proffesor rampages through the corridors, waking everyone up. I sit up groggily and rub my eyes. What did she say? Ah yes. I pull on some proper clothes and slip on my quiver. My bow was hooked onto the back of the door, I lifted it up and held it steady. Would I have to use it?
Everywhere is a blurr, arrows flying above my head, people falling dead, screams and blood. I cry a little as I crouch down and shimmy my way through the chaos, looking for a way out. Slipping round a corner I press my body against a wall to avoid the nordien, they smell rancid, their skin an unpleasant color of mud. I scream again, arrows missing me by centimeters.
Running down amid the death, time seems to stand still. My proffesor is shoved against a wall by a warrior, his huge hands trapping her by the neck. I squeal, and load my bow. My eyes are fixated on my target, the center of the monsters back. My hands glow suddenly and as if on auto pilot, let go of the string and the arrow flies foward. It hits perfectly, and a huge reaper appears, and swipes at the Nordien. I took a step back, and glare at my bow; the screams seem quiter.
"What was that? Who did it?"
"The Vision? Who does it belong too?"
The voices just jelled together as I pass out, sudden exaustion taking over me.