Chapter 337 - Unexpectedly good

Chapter 337: Chapter 337 - Unexpectedly good

Ryan followed his gaze toward the weapon rack.

"The bow?"

Eric carefully dismounted from the horse. His landing was far less graceful than he would have liked, his legs still unsteady after spending so long in the saddle. The moment his boots touched the ground, his balance tipped slightly. Ryan caught him around the waist before he could stumble and held him there until Eric found his footing.

Eric cleared his throat and stepped away as though nothing had happened.

"At least I can stand without falling over now."

"That is considerable progress."

Eric shot him a look. "Don’t sound so impressed."

Ryan’s mouth twitched, but he wisely said nothing.

Eric walked toward the rack and picked up one of the bows. The weight surprised him. It was heavier than the modern recreational bows he vaguely remembered seeing in his previous life, with a thick wooden body and a string pulled so taut that even testing it lightly beneath his fingers told him it would require considerable strength.

Ryan came up behind him.

"Have you used one before?"

Eric looked down at the weapon.

That was another question he couldn’t answer honestly without raising more questions. He remembered his previous life clearly enough, and archery certainly hadn’t been part of it. As for this body...

"I don’t know."

Ryan frowned slightly.

Eric glanced at him. "Just teach me."

Thankfully, Ryan didn’t push for an explanation. He stepped closer and adjusted Eric’s grip, moving his fingers slightly before positioning his feet. One hand rested briefly against Eric’s shoulder while the other guided his arm into the correct angle.

"Keep your shoulders steady. Don’t force the draw using only your arms. Let your back take some of the weight."

Eric listened carefully.

Ryan showed him where his fingers should rest against the string and corrected the angle of his elbow. He explained where to look, how to align himself with the target and how not to tense his entire body while drawing.

"Don’t worry about hitting the center," Ryan said. "For now, become familiar with the movement."

"All right."

Eric raised the bow.

The moment his fingers closed around the string, something changed.

His body settled before he consciously remembered any of Ryan’s instructions. His feet shifted slightly farther apart. His shoulders relaxed. His elbow lifted into position with an ease completely different from the awkward uncertainty he had experienced on horseback.

Ryan went quiet behind him.

Eric barely noticed.

His attention had narrowed completely to the target.

He drew the string.

For some reason, the tension against his fingers didn’t feel unfamiliar. The weight of the bow didn’t bother him anymore either. Even the position that Ryan had spent the last several minutes explaining suddenly felt so natural that Eric couldn’t understand why he had needed an explanation at all.

His breathing slowed.

Then he released.

The arrow flew across the training ground and buried itself near the center of the target.

Eric stared at it.

Ryan said nothing.

For several seconds, the only sound came from the horses shifting quietly inside the stable and the faint crackle of torches around the training grounds.

Eric slowly lowered the bow.

"Beginner’s luck."

He reached for another arrow.

His fingers moved before he thought about what he was doing. He drew it from the quiver, set it against the string and raised the bow again in one smooth motion.

Ryan’s expression changed.

He hadn’t taught Eric how to nock an arrow yet.

Eric didn’t notice. His gaze had already returned to the target.

He drew and released.

The second arrow struck even closer to the center than the first.

Any amusement Eric might have felt disappeared.

He lowered the bow and stared at it.

There had been no hesitation. No uncertainty. Nothing remotely similar to his struggle while learning to ride. His body simply seemed to know what it was supposed to do.

Ryan moved closer.

"Again."

Eric glanced at him, then reached for a third arrow.

This time, he deliberately paid attention to every movement. He wanted to catch himself doing something Ryan had taught him or perhaps remember some fragment of knowledge that might explain what was happening.

Instead, the same strange certainty took over.

His fingers knew where to go. His stance corrected itself naturally. Even before he raised the bow, he somehow knew the exact point where the string would settle comfortably against his fingers.

Eric drew.

Something stirred at the edge of his mind.

He stiffened.

It wasn’t a memory. There were no images, voices or places he could recognize. Nothing clear enough to grasp.

Only familiarity.

Deep, unsettling familiarity.

He released.

The third arrow struck beside the second.

Eric remained perfectly still.

Ryan looked from the arrows to his face.

"You’ve done this before."

Eric swallowed.

"No."

For once, there was no joke behind the answer.

"I haven’t."

Ryan studied him for a moment. He knew enough about Eric by now to recognize when he was deliberately avoiding a question, but apparently he also recognized when Eric genuinely didn’t know the answer.

His gaze returned to the target.

"Again."

Eric reached for another arrow, although this time the movement was slower. He watched his own hand as though it belonged to someone else. He was trying to catch himself doing something he shouldn’t know how to do, some conscious decision that could explain why the bow felt so natural in his hands.

There was nothing.

The moment he nocked the arrow, his body simply settled. His fingers adjusted their grip, his shoulders relaxed and his gaze found the target without effort.

He released.

The arrow struck directly between the others.

Eric stared at the tight grouping.

Ryan walked across the training ground and studied the target before pulling the arrows free. When he returned, there was a strange brightness in his eyes that made Eric immediately suspicious.

"You have excellent control."

"I don’t even know what I’m controlling."

Ryan handed the arrows back to him. "Then stop thinking about it."

Eric frowned. "That’s your advice?"

"For now. Your body knows what to do. Let it."

That sounded considerably more unsettling than Ryan seemed to realize.

Still, Eric took another arrow.

Ryan moved toward one of the soldiers guarding the training grounds and quietly gave him an instruction. The soldier disappeared briefly before returning with several smaller practice targets normally used for mounted training.

Instead of setting one upright, Ryan had him suspend it from a rope.

Eric watched suspiciously.

"What are you doing?"

"A stationary target tells me very little if you already know how to shoot."

"I told you I don’t."

"I believe you."

The immediate answer made Eric glance at him.

Ryan wasn’t questioning him. There was no suspicion in his expression, no attempt to catch Eric in a lie. Whatever explanation Ryan had formed for Eric’s strange skill, he genuinely didn’t seem to think Eric was deliberately hiding anything.

For some reason, that eased a small amount of the tension in Eric’s chest.

Ryan gave the suspended target a firm push.

It swung through the air.

"Try."

Eric looked at the moving target.

This had to be different.

Hitting something standing still could perhaps be explained away as luck combined with some forgotten instinct belonging to this body. A moving target required timing, judgment and experience.

He lifted the bow.

His eyes followed the target through one swing.

Then another.

Something inside him seemed to calculate the movement before he consciously tried: the speed, the distance, the arc, the point where the target would be rather than where it currently was.

Eric drew.

The arrow left the string almost immediately.

It struck the center.

Ryan’s eyebrows rose.

Eric slowly lowered the bow.

"All right."

Ryan walked forward and pushed the target harder.

"Wait. What are you—"

The target swung faster, travelling in a much wider arc.

Eric sighed but raised the bow again. His gaze tracked the target for only a moment before that same instinct took over.

He released.

The arrow struck almost beside the first.

Eric’s fingers tightened around the bow.

Ryan was no longer merely surprised. He looked genuinely stunned.

"Again."

The soldier reached for the target, but Ryan stopped him.

"Use two."

The soldier hesitated.

Eric stared at Ryan. "You’re enjoying this."

Ryan’s mouth curved faintly. "A little."

"You’re shameless."

The soldier hung a second target beside the first, then pulled both backward and released them at slightly different times. The two targets began swinging across one another’s paths, sometimes overlapping before separating again.

Eric watched them.

That was considerably more difficult.

Good.

Maybe this would finally prove that the previous shots had been some bizarre coincidence.

He raised the bow.

The first target crossed behind the second.

Eric fired.

Before the arrow had even landed, his hand had already reached for another.

The first arrow struck.

Eric nocked the second, shifted his aim and released again.

The second target jerked violently when the arrow hit almost directly through its center.

The soldier stared openly.

Eric slowly lowered the bow.

Ryan walked toward the targets and inspected both arrows before looking back at him.

There was unmistakable pride in his expression.

Eric noticed immediately.

"Why do you look so pleased? You didn’t teach me this."

Ryan pulled the arrows free. "I taught you how to hold the bow."

"For approximately half a minute."

"It was excellent instruction."

Eric snorted.

Ryan returned and handed him another arrow.

"One more."

"You’ve said that before."

"This one is different."

That immediately made Eric suspicious.

Instead of returning to the targets, Ryan picked up a small wooden practice disc from beside the rack and walked farther into the field.

Eric narrowed his eyes.

"Don’t tell me you’re going to throw that."

Ryan weighed the disc in his palm.

"Ready?"

"Ryan."

Ryan threw it.

"You bastard—"

Eric reacted before his mind caught up.

The disc spun high through the night air, catching briefly in the lantern light before beginning to descend.

His body moved.

He drew.

Released.

The arrow struck the disc in midair.

The wooden piece flew backward and landed several feet away with the arrow embedded through it.

For a moment, nobody moved.

Even Eric forgot to breathe.

He had barely aimed.

He had simply seen the target and known.

Ryan crossed the field and picked up the disc. The arrow had pierced frighteningly close to its center. When he returned, his expression had changed.

He wasn’t suspicious.

He was impressed.

Proud.

And perhaps slightly bewildered himself.

"If His Majesty wanted to see your hunting skills," Ryan said, turning the disc in his hand, "he may regret asking."

Eric looked at the ruined piece of wood and then at the bow still resting far too comfortably in his hand.

"Don’t sound so proud. This is disturbing."

"Why?"

"Because I don’t know where it came from."

That finally subdued Ryan’s expression.

Eric flexed his fingers around the bow. There was no memory waiting beneath the movement. No sudden explanation of when or where he had learned to shoot like this.

He remembered his other life.

He knew what belonged to him.

This didn’t.

Yet his body had reacted with more certainty than his mind.

Ryan watched him quietly for a moment before stepping closer and taking the bow gently from his hands.

"That’s enough."

Eric looked up. "I can keep going."

"I know."

"Then why stop?"

"Because you’ve already spent half the night learning to ride, and tomorrow you’ll be in the forest for hours." Ryan placed the bow carefully back onto the rack. "You need rest more than you need another target."

Eric glanced toward the suspended targets.

Part of him desperately wanted to continue. He wanted to keep shooting until something finally failed, until he discovered the limit of this strange instinct or forced some buried memory to surface. The uncertainty bothered him more than his failure at horseback riding ever had.

Ryan seemed to understand what he was thinking.

"Tomorrow."

Eric looked at him.

"You can test yourself again tomorrow. The bow will still be here."

Eric stared at the targets for another few seconds before reluctantly letting the matter go.

"Fine."

Ryan’s expression softened.

Eric immediately pointed at him. "And stop looking so pleased with yourself. You barely did anything."

"I gave excellent instruction."

"You moved my elbow."

"Exactly."

Eric rolled his eyes and started walking away from the training grounds.

Behind him, he heard Ryan laugh.

Strangely, the sound made the uneasiness sitting in his chest feel just a little lighter.