Jack gave a surprised blink at Toma, asking for more archery tips. “Sure, Toma. I’ve got a few minutes I can spare.”

  The boy’s face lit up. “Really? Thanks!”

  They stepped aside near one of the tall windows lining the Guild’s hallway, away from the main bustle of passing adventurers and the occasional hiss of aether pipes. Sunlight filtered through the coloured glass, casting patches of gold and green across the stone floor.

  “First things first.” Jack thought about how he’d ended up taking Zia home. “You’ve got a mom, dad, and somewhere to live, right?”

  Toma looked confused but answered. “Yeah, I live with my mom, dad, brothers, and sisters. Why?”

  “Good. It’s not important.” Jack breathed a quiet sigh of relief and leaned against the windowsill. “Alright, how’re your shoulders feeling? Any soreness after the session?”

  Toma rolled his arm and winced. “A bit sore. It’s not too bad, though.”

  Jack nodded. “Good. That’s normal. It’s probably going to hurt even more in the morning. Remember, archery uses muscles you’re not used to, so it’s easy to strain yourself if you rush. Always stretch before and after a session.”

  The boy nodded.

  “Do this…” Jack demonstrated a slow arm cross stretch, pulling his right arm across his chest and holding it with his left hand. “And this one for your shoulders…” He rolled his shoulders forward and backward. “A little boring, but it’ll keep you shooting longer without injury.”

  As Jack watched Toma mirror his movements, he couldn’t help wondering if he’d be teaching his little brother the same stretches one day. Will Richard still want to be a knight, like when he was five? His little brother had once declared he wanted to become a knight to fight dragons when he grew up. Jack knew that if his mom had her way, Richard wouldn’t end up a knight; he’d probably be ‘nudged’ towards becoming a scribe or some other non-combat class.

  “Now, about form,” Jack continued. He reached into his memory, pulling from both his own practice and the archery manuals he’d devoured in his past life. “You’re holding the bow too tight.” He pulled his white oak bow from his shoulder to demonstrate. “Grip it lightly, like this. Let it rest in the V between your thumb and forefinger. That way, when you release, there’s no extra tension jerking your shot sideways.”

  Toma frowned in concentration, copying the grip with his own bow.

  Jack smiled. “Good. And keep your elbow up when you draw. You were dropping it halfway through, which weakens the shot and messes with your aim. Here, watch…” He pantomimed the motion, drawing an invisible bowstring, his body aligned in a smooth line. “Never draw and release your bowstring without an arrow; it can damage your bow.” He continued the demonstration. “Feel the tension between your shoulder blades, not just in your arms.”

  Toma tried it, brow furrowed in effort. His form improved, although his stance remained somewhat stiff.

  A passing adventurer snickered as he walked by. “You’re more likely to hit something if you use arrows, you know?” he called over his shoulder, laughing as he left.

  Toma flushed with embarrassment and faltered, losing his form.

  “Ignore him. That’s just adventurer banter. You’ll have to get used to it if you visit the Guild regularly,” Jack advised, remembering some of the cruel ‘banter’ he’d been subjected to in his past life. “Try again.” He thought of something just as Toma started to pull an imaginary arrow back. “Oh. And if a little banter will put you off a shot, imagine how you’ll fail if a screaming goblin runs at you with a rusty sword!”

  Toma’s eyes widened.

  Jack’s face tightened as a recent memory passed through his mind. The stink of goblin breath, the flash of chipped iron, and his own heart thudding hard enough to drown out thought. He exhaled slowly. “Always remain calm,” he added, voice quieter but firm. “A calm archer is a living archer.”

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  Toma nodded, gripping his bow tighter. “Stay calm… got it.”

  “Good. Panic will get you killed. Calm keeps you thinking.” Jack gave a small, approving smile. Now I just need to follow that advice myself.

  Toma nodded again.

  “Okay. Try again,” Jack said.

  The boy straightened and pulled an imaginary arrow back with his imaginary bowstring.

  “Relax,” Jack chuckled. “You’re not a statue.” He tapped Toma’s shoulder. “Archery’s a dance between tension and looseness. Too tense, and you’ll wobble or jerk your shot on release. Too loose, and you’ll be sloppy.”

  The boy’s eyes were shining. “Okay! Okay… what else?”

  Jack gave him a thoughtful look. “When you aim, don’t just stare at the target. See the surrounding space. Archery’s as much about feel as it is about sight. Some of the best shots happen when you trust the motion, not when you overthink every shot.” He’d read this advice in one of the books on archery training.

  Toma’s eyes widened in admiration. “You sound like a master archer or something!”

  “I’m just a Novice Scribe, remember.” Jack smiled, though in his mind he pictured sinking an arrow into the Baron’s heart as an Apprentice Archer. “But I’ve read a lot of books… and had some very interesting teachers in my time.”

  Toma grinned. “You’re really cool, Jack.”

  Jack laughed the compliment off. “Keep practising, Toma. Archery’s a lot like life. You miss more than you hit at the start, but every shot teaches you something.” He frowned. And sometimes you get yourself killed trying to assassinate the monster who killed your family…

  Toma shuffled his feet a little, lowering his voice. “Jack… um… can I ask you something?”

  Jack tilted his head. “Sure.”

  Toma hesitated, then blurted out, “I don’t have any arrows.”

  Jack wasn’t surprised. “Was today your first time shooting a bow?”

  The boy looked embarrassed. “Took me a month to make my bow. Haven’t been able to make a straight arrow yet. Was gonna borrow the ones in the training rooms.”

  Feeling a pang of empathy, Jack glanced at his own quiver. He had ten basic arrows that were cheap and sturdy; perfect for a kid to practise with. He also had a few dozen higher-quality arrows looted from the rat-faced rogue. Without a word, he reached in and pulled out four of his basic arrows, holding them out to Toma. “Here. Take these. I was planning to buy some more soon anyway.”

  Toma’s eyes went wide. “Really? Are you sure?”

  Jack smiled, feeling good about helping someone. “Positive. You’ll need them to practise at home, right? Or at least to get started.”

  The boy reached out, but hesitated for a moment.

  Jack nodded. “You can’t practise without arrows.”

  Toma took the arrows in both hands like they were precious treasure. “Thanks, Jack! Thank you so much! My dad says there’s no nice people in the world, but he’s wrong.”

  He waved him off with a small laugh. “Just promise me you’ll keep practising and not put someone’s eye out.” He grimaced, imagining his mom’s reaction if Toma shot someone by mistake. Damn. She’d blame me for giving a child weapons.

  Toma beamed, clutching the arrows close to his chest. “I promise! I’ll practise every day!”

  “Make me one more promise,” Jack added with a grin. “If you ever meet my mom, don’t tell her I gave you any arrows. Okay?”

  The young teen looked confused but nodded.

  Jack chuckled. “Good lad.” He reached out and gave the boy’s shoulder a squeeze. “You’ve got spirit, Toma. That’s worth more than fancy gear.”

  Toma nodded and looked ready to start practising right away. “I want to join the Adventurers Guild when I’m sixteen… and then the King’s Army.”

  Plenty of poor kids shared similar goals. Gain a basic combat class, practise as an adventurer for a few years, then join the army for steady coin. If there was one thing the King’s Army understood, it was paying its soldiers on time.

  “That’s a good goal, Toma. But remember, being an adventurer isn’t just about skill. It’s about judgement, too. Learn when to fight… and when to walk away.”

  Toma tilted his head. “Did you… walk away from fights?”

  Jack thought about the altercation in the forest over the goblin ear and loot. I should have left as soon as I heard voices. If he’d left, he could have avoided killing the rogue, the swordsman… and the need to avoid four murderous adventurers. He gave a faint, wry smile. “Sometimes. Sometimes I didn’t. And that’s why I know it matters.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “Alright, you’d better get home before your family starts worrying.”

  Toma clutched his gifted arrows, his grin stretching ear to ear. “Thanks, Jack! Will you be here tomorrow, too?”

  “Maybe. I’ve got a lot on, but I might try to train with Nessa and Ella again in the morning. That was fun.”

  The boy nodded. “I’m gonna save up so I can do it again. That was so much fun! I can’t wait until I can do it every day. When you got hit in the bum with that blast, I almost peed myself laughing!”

  Jack chuckled. “Hey, I think you’re forgetting the most important rule.” He put on a mock-stern face, trying to sound like a veteran adventurer. “What happens in Training Room 13, stays in Training Room 13.”

  They both laughed.

  With a final wave, Toma ran off down the hallway, light on his feet, already pretending to nock an imaginary arrow as he zigzagged between a group of grumbling adventurers.

  Jack watched him go, a small smile lingering on his face. Despite the ache in his shoulders, he felt a little lighter. I should get going too, he thought, remembering the four adventurers he still had to avoid.

  With one last glance around the Guild, Jack adjusted his pack, patted his white oak bow, and made his way to the exit. As he stepped out onto the bustling streets of Lundun, the memory of Toma’s grateful smile stayed with him. Warming him against the hidden threats he might yet face.