I was always a swordsman. I was born a swordsman, I will die a swordsman. My father brandished a sword just like his father, and that's how battles are fought here. Rather, that's how battles are won. I remember my first fight, as well as my first sword. And I could live the rest of my life as a happy swordsman if I chose to, and that's what would happen.
I've read stories about archers since I was a kid, but not until I met one in real life did I believe the stories might actually be true. Maybe before then, I assumed everybody in the whole world was a swordsman just like me, but when my eyes opened to other types of warriors, something changed deep inside me.
You see, right before I became old enough to fight battles alone, I realized I could just pick up the biggest sword and swing it as hard as I could, and I would win almost every time. The bigger the sword, the more powerful I felt. I didn't need grace, I didn't need precision. Now compare that to stories of people who don't even swing swords at all.
The archers are different than the swordsmen. They seemed much simpler, and much more sophisticated. I even went as far as taking an archery class near my home to learn what I could. I was obsessed - how could people so different fight battles without a sword? It was amazing.
I took years of training before I even picked up a bow, and more years before I shot my first arrow. I knew I was never going to be an archer, yet, each arrow I held made me question who I was as a swordsman. I had been fighting with only strength, no precision. I wanted to change as a warrior, to become a fighter who could do more than swing a sword. So I decided to move to the land of the archers and take up training with them in their own land.
I guess I was most surprised by the country itself. The archers didn't just battle with precision, they lived their whole life that way. Everything was built around the same sophistication I had learned about back home.
Of course, I learned I could still fight battles with my sword there, but for the most part I awkwardly entered the battlefield with a huge bow and quiver strapped to my back, too. I met other swordsmen here learning how to be archers - some very talented, some not so much - but enough of them to witness them win battles.
But my biggest surprise was not from the swordsmen, it was from the archers. You'd be amazed at how many archers wanted to be swordsmen. Pictures of swordsmen on big signs in the town markets, training arenas on every street. I could get a job showing people how to just hold a sword if I wanted to. But, of course, I was dedicated to learn everything I could about archery, and even though I still practiced with my sword every day, I made sure to practice shooting arrows every day, too.
This continued for a long time. Of course, I look like a swordsman, most archers wouldn't even guess I knew how to hold a bow. But I was proud of where my archery training had gotten me. I could hit a target at 50 meters! It made me a better swordsman, too, as I was using my understanding of precision and timing to make better swings. Maybe a few more years, and I can battle with arrows as good as with a sword.
Of course, that's not how life on the battlefield works.
One dark evening, I was going about my business, and a timid archer came up to me smiling and holding out a small dagger. He said he had just picked it up, but by the way he swung it around, I doubted it was his first knife. He looked at the giant blade strapped to my hip, looked me in the eyes, and asked me to help him become a swordsman.
Of course, it wasn't unusual for archers to want to be swordsmen, but this was the first person who had approached me who wasn't even holding a proper sword. I looked at him up and down at first; he may have lacked the skills, but he had the passion. His bow was long and slender, and his quiver was filled with hand-carved arrows of many different lengths.
After a few months, I had met the archer on a few occasions to help him hold bigger swords and help him with his swing. He always kept his bow neatly strapped to his back unless he absolutely had to shoot an arrow; I think I shot more arrows in battle than he did when we were together. One time I shot 30 arrows and only hit 3 targets; the same day he hit 5 targets clean through the center with one arrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment