Kingdom of Arzialla by Marilyn Arias (story reading txt) 📕

And best part about it is that I just found out my middle school has an archery club. I never listen to the school news so I never knew. Grandmama has taken me to shooting ranges before and I was a decent shooter so I decided to tryout.
School began from winter break and I found out it’s Mr. Peters who’s in charge of the archery club. So I looked for him one afternoon in practice and found him in the gym with all the other archers. They were all shooting a target and he was just watching them.
I went up to him and couldn’t help but notice that for someone who seems skinny from afar it’s impressive to find that he’s actually pretty fit. “Mr. Peters?”
“Olivia! Raise your arm. You look sloppy,” he yelled at a girl.
“Um, Sir?” I tried again.
“Like this, Coach?” she asked, raising her elbow.
“Sir?”
“No,” he said, going over to her. I followed behind him. He raised her wrist up and said, “Like this. Now shoot.”
She let go of her arrow and it almost flew into a bulls eye. “Oh! Okay then. Thank you, Coach.”
“Uh, C--” I tried to catch his attention again but then a loud voice from across the gym interrupted me. “Coach!”
A guy came in while he waved a piece of paper in the air.
“You got the form?” the coach asked him as he went to him. I have this feeling that all the other girls are watching me and laughing at me from within as I just kept getting ignored by the coach…
“Yes, sir,” he said, handing it to him.
“Thank you so much,” he said as he took it, turned around, and started reading it as he started walking off. I went up to him and he just walked right by me. What is wrong with this man?

I continued following him like an idiot. After a while, I thought of the idea of maybe tapping his shoulder or back. I did so and he turned around and met my eyes. “Can I help you?”
“I’d like to tryout,” I told him.
He looked at the other girls and then back at me. “You’re a little late now.”
“Well…”
“Have you been here all year long?”
“W-well, yes.”
“You are too late then,” he said, walking away.
“Oh please? Now’s when I just got my bow and arrow and when I finally practiced.”
“Practice more and tryout next year.”
I glanced at the other archers and found them staring at me and whispering at one another.
I just went home furious. I was so angry and embarrassed…

Two days later, I attempted to take one of the bow and arrows from the gym storage room and found it to be locked up, enabling me to not use any of them. Since I barely ever use my locker in school hours, I’ve managed to hide my bow and arrow in it without anybody catching me and I’d use it in the gym to practice almost everyday after school. I’d always make sure no one was around to watch me take it out before heading to the gym. I’d use my iPod to play music while I practice and to let me know when an hour’s up.
After a month has passed, I’ve gotten used to my bow and I’ve felt comfortable using the targets. Until my music stopped playing one day. I turned around to find Mr. Peters holding my iPod…
“Uh, sir!” I was surprised.
“What is your name?” he asked with anger.
“Anastasia Yetzer,” I straightened up.
“What are you doing here, Miss Anastasia? And that is not even one of the school’s archery bows is it?” he asked.
“I… This is…” I couldn’t find any words. He rose one eyebrow at me like waiting to hear what I've got to say. “I just thought this would be a good place to practice…”
“You’re not supposed to be in campus without a teacher watching you after or before school hours.”
“But…”
“How long have you been doing this?”
“For maybe three or four weeks?” I shrugged. My poor heart is racing and aching…
“So you’ve been basically breaking into the gym and using a weapon in school grounds for about a month?”
I didn’t say anything. I was so scared and shocked… I guess I should’ve known this’ll happen.
He continued. “You know you can get arrested just for using that here, right?”
I swallowed. “Sir, please. I didn’t mean any harm. I just wanted to practice…”
He stood there with his arms crossed for a minute. “How much do you want to be in the team?”
“Huh?”
He rolled his eyes as if he didn’t have the patience for me. “How much do you want to be in the archery club?”
“A-a lot, sir.”
“Why?”
I just stood there silently. It was one of those questions where the answer is obvious but you don’t know how to word it. The more time I spent silently, the more serious he seemed.
“B-because I like it… I-I think it’s very… I think it’s something cool to be a part of,” I stuttered.
He stood there staring at me for a moment. I felt my face heat up. “How about this. Make a bulls eye and I’ll pretend this never happened and I’ll enroll you as a member of the archery club.”
“W-what if I miss?”
He rose his eyebrows like it was a stupid question.
“Oh…” I muttered.
“Just give it a shot.”
I hesitated before turning around. A bulls eye? How the hell am I suppose to make that?

I took my bow, slid the arrow into place and rose it up. My hands wouldn’t stop quivering and I was so nervous my world around me kept swaying side to side. I aimed as best as I could and released it. It flew and it landed too far to the left…
“Have a good day,” the coach turned around and started walking away.
“No, please Coach. One more chance. Please…”
He turned around and glanced at me with one annoyed eyebrow up.
“Please? One more try,” I pleaded.
He sighed with a groan. “Fine.”
I quickly turned around, took another arrow, and aimed. Come on. You can’t mess up, Anna, I told myself.

Suddenly, a hand gently went over my left hand. I thought the hand was the coach’s but it was smaller and more feminine. And the skin had a blue tint to it…
“Lift it up and aim more to the right,” a woman whispered as she moved my bow higher. It’s her! I shut my eyes tightly and from fright I let go of the arrow. I let out a squeal and stumbled to the side to get away. All of a sudden, I hear a pair of hands clapping from behind me. I looked up and found the arrow stuck dead center in the target.

“Congratulations, Miss Anastasia. Welcome to the team,” the coach said.
I looked around the gym and found myself only with the coach.
How is that possible? She felt so solid. How did she just disappear? And she can talk?! And how did I make that bulls eye? I was so clumsy! I kept thinking. I just stood there staring at the arrow with confusion, fright, and shock.

 

Do You Know How To Sword Fight?- Zelimir

WITHIN THREE MONTHS OF MOVING in with Mila, I got comfortable living in her cozy home and settled in quickly. She went out shopping a couple days after she took me in and bought me some clothes. It wasn’t much but it’s a lot better than how I was when I arrived in Arzialla, which was nothing. We are planning on going to the markets again to pick out some more clothes after I fix one of her old wooden chairs. It kept wobbling back and forth and every time one of us would lean back, the back would shift backwards as if it’s going to break any minute and make you fall back. So I decided to gather Mila’s husband’s tools and start fixing it.
Just when I was going to nail a leg into place, Mila comes in from her shop and pauses.
“How’s it?” she asked.
“It’s coming along,” I said hammering the nail in. “How’s the shop?”
“As usual,” she sighed. “You know you didn’t have to.”
“Oh, you know I will. It’s been—Ouch!” I screamed when I accidentally hammered my finger.
She gasped and took the hammer from me before crouching down to take a closer look.
“You dumby,” she laughed. She touched the nail of my finger and asked, “Does this hurt?”
“Yes,” I said, flinching. My nail was beginning to turn purple. I sighed, “We are going to need a candle and needle, huh?”
“You’re a smart boy,” she said as she got up and started walking to a drawer. “How did you know that?”
“My father was the doctor of my old village,” I told her.
“Oh, really?” she said with interest as she took out a few sewing needles.
“It has to be thick. It can’t be a small, thin one,” I told her.
“I know, I know,” she said and then found the biggest needle she has. She took the candle that sat on the dinner table as a center piece and lit it before telling me to sit down at the table. I did so and she placed my hand on some napkins. “It’s going to be messy.”
I nodded with a smile. I could feel pressure and great pain under my nail already…
She took the needle and started heating it over the fire of the candle. “Are you ready?”
I nodded to her.
She took the needle and started gently pushing it down on my nail where it’s most black. It didn’t melt the nail completely through.
“It has to be red hot. And don’t be scared to give force to it,” I told her.
“Alright,” she said as she took the needle and placed it over the fire. She left it there for about twenty seconds before taking it and trying again. The needle was fiery red and it released smoke, in which danced with the air. After applying much more pressure onto the nail, the needle went completely through and it squirted out what seemed like a cup of blood. “There we go!”
I let out a breath of relief. “Oh, how that feels so much better.”
Blood poured down to the napkin and I watched the stain grow bigger on it. Mila took a napkin and started squeezing the blood out until it’s no longer at the least bit purple. She went to the bathroom and quickly came back with some bandages and a bag of something.
“What is that?” I asked as she opened the bag.
She looked at me with surprise. “You really don’t know what this is?”
I shook my head.
“My child, it’s Syveria’s sand,” she told me.
I just stood there staring at her with a confused face.
“You don’t know the myth of Syveria?”
“Who’s Syveria?”
She gasped. “You must be bluffing, my child!”
I was so