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Myndael Melalta Jerllamo, leading Red Team and wearing a set of red protective padding over her clothes to match, hauled herself up on top of the block and turned to look back at her friend, Roama. Mynda barely had time to glance before Roama tossed the ball up to her. Mynda caught it, grabbing it out of the air before a blue-padded youth from Blue Team could snatch it away. Mynda jumped, reaching forward with her free hand to catch hold of the ladder-like rungs on the side of the next square column several feet away. She landed on the side of the block, the impact jarring her as her feet hit and she managed to find her footing and grab. The padding protected her knees and shins as they also hit the block. The rungs were there to grab hold of, but they were too shallow to make it easy. It was only possible with the ball in the crook of her arm because her free hand was able to reach the top of the column.

Mynda peered around the left side of the block, which was almost as wide as she was tall. A Blue form jumped up from the ground, ten feet below, and climbed toward her. She scrambled around to the other side of the block as quickly as she could and threw the ball ahead to Clallo. He caught it, turning and avoiding another Blue defender as he jumped over a pit, narrowly avoiding falling in. Just as Clallo was about to heave the ball forward to into the goal, a defender grabbed him by the ankle and jerked him violently off his feet. The ball went off aim, away from the net at the end of the court. A Blue teammate blurred past on the ground, scooping the ball up as Red players began to take a defensive position around the court.

Mynda had climbed atop the block she was on and scanned the court to understand the opposing team’s strategy. “Left side!” she called, letting her entire team know where Blue Team was concentrating now. “Play position, not opponent!” Red Team scurried to their planned positions in a formation between and on columns, attempting to form as impenetrable a barrier as possible for Blue Team.

Blue Team approached on the ground, weaving between columns. Mynda backed away from them to take her spot in her own team’s formation, leaping a pair of gaps between columns and climbing on top of another, farther back. She knew the Blues would have to climb the columns at some point, but guessing when and where was the hard part. She had to make it as inconvenient for them to get advanced ground as she possibly could. Mynda spotted a single Blue form slinking between walls on the far right of her field of vision. “Roama, coming your way! Tilido, assist!” Tilido moved towards Roama and climbed a nearby column.

Of course everybody on Blue Team heard Mynda call out, but it was too late to compensate in their maneuver. They had already launched the ball high in the air, sailing over the columns and towards their teammate on Mynda’s left. Roama ran along the ground to intercept. She leapt for the ball and managed to nudge it out of the receiving grasp of the rogue blue opponent. They both sprawled on the ground, but Roama recovered more quickly. She jumped up and grabbed the ball. Tilido had already advanced two columns forward and made a third jump as Roama released the ball towards him.

Tilido caught the ball and halted, giving his teammates time to dash forward of his position, not wanting to risk dropping it in a jump to the next column. An opponent jumped onto the side of the block below him. Tilido had little time, then. Roama was the farthest forward, but Mynda was on top of the structures. Tilido passed the ball back to Roama on the ground, who then threw it up to Mynda. Mynda was in prime real estate and quickly hurled the ball towards the goal. The goalkeep jumped at the ball and knocked it aside, but it still went into the corner of the net.

“Red Team scores!” The moderator shouted. “Match complete! Red Team: six, Blue Team: five! Greet in the center!”

Both teams dismounted the columns and walked tiredly on the ground to the center of the court, where they looked each other in the eye and struck their fists together one at a time.

Valkyr watched as Harrval grew larger in front of her. She couldn’t wait to finally hold her own bow. She had already waited a full sixteen Turns, and knew she could not bear to wait another day. The siblings knew that the four of them with weapons would need to take turns because the cave could only accommodate one at a time for real concentration. They had not discussed what order they would go in, but Valkyr felt she would be heartbroken if the others did not let her go first. It wasn’t selfishness, it was simply a need.

POP! The party landed on the Fassendais and Valkyr jumped off, eager to make her way to the cabin, into the cave. She needed her bow in her hands. The rest of the group stepped down from the raised platform, looking around. Couldn’t they move any faster? Valkyr had to go! It was very important. It had been mid-morning in Grendhill. Here, it was already late afternoon. They wouldn’t get in her way and prevent her from starting her training this evening, would they?

Reedl took the lead and gestured for the rest to follow him. They walked unbelievably slow, or so thought Valkyr. After an eternity, they finally found themselves in front of a certain large house. Reedl approached the door and knocked. It was answered by a graying man with a knowing smile on his face.

“Ah, Pascho,” Reedl began, but was interrupted by Pascho ushering them all inside.

“Come in, come in. There’s no use staying out there long.” Once all six had entered and the door was closed behind them, he spoke more. “We can’t have you out there in plain sight. You know you cannot be too careful. I don’t know what precautions you took to be sure you were not followed to Hevvlar, but I won’t have you standing outside where you can be identified.”

Reedl looked around, seeing nobody else in the house. “Is your…”

“Family’s all out,” Pascho replied. “Uillia’s gone to the market and I’ve got my boys helping with my business more and more these days. I’m slowly easing into retirement, and I took today off. You can all make yourselves at home, of course. I see you packed light.”

He paused, looking at the three princes and two princesses. “We have rooms for you, naturally. I did not know when you would be coming, but we are always prepared for a visit from any of you. I expect you’ll want to stay together, so in the hallway you can find a room for the boys and another for the girls.”

“Dinner is in a couple of hours. I hope you enjoy our local fare. You all look like—”

Valkyr interrupted him. “I’m sorry, but can we settle something among ourselves right now? Very sorry! I don’t mean to cause problems, and we’ll be fine until dinner.”

Pascho smiled knowingly. “Of course, of course. I know why you’re here, after all.”

Valkyr turned to her siblings. “Aton, I apologize that you won’t need to be involved in this.” Aton shrugged, resigned. Valkyr spoke to Domire, Misolfa, and Tido. “I think I’m ready to get started. Will you let me have my training in isolation first? I have to get in there.” She bit her lip and looked back and forth between the other three, doing poor work at holding back her nervousness and excitement.

Domire and Tido stalled. Good-hearted Misolfa spoke up first. “Of course! We would love to let you go first, wouldn’t we, boys? I mean, we will all just be sitting here for the next eight weeks anyway, right? It doesn’t matter so much what order we go in.”

Domire said, “Um, yes, that is fine. Misolfa’s right, there’s no problem.”

“Well,” Tido said, “I guess that’s okay, but can I go next? I mean, if it doesn’t matter so much.” He looked at his siblings.

“Alright, then!” Misolfa said, beaming. “Then Domire and I can just wrestle it out for the third rotation. Or just flip a coin. Maybe we could…”

Valkyr interrupted her. “Okay. Right. If you’ll excuse me, I want to get started right now. I’m sure I’ll find my way about the cavern quickly enough, and somebody can slip me my dinner later.” She turned to go and Aton grabbed her wrist.

“Wait, Valkyr. I admit I feel somewhat down about not beginning my own adventure here, but I am glad for all of you. Good luck, sister, and I’ll see you on the other side.” He offered her an embrace, which she took quickly before turning and heading down the hallway. She turned into the first door she came to on her right and closed the door behind her.

Pascho stepped closer to the group. “…You all look like you’d be interested in a tour of the house. You were all looking every-which-way, so I will go ahead and show it all to you, of course leaving the entrance to the cavern last. Come see the kitchen first.”

---

Valkyr smiled to herself. She was ready to begin.

Turning to look at the wooden doors, Valkyr paused and thought. She had descended a steep, narrow path in a rocky corridor to arrive in the chamber where she now stood. Three doors waited for her here, lit by several lanterns that did not flicker. She spared the lanterns barely a glance to wonder when they were lit and why they did not flicker as they should, then focused on a long, recessed cavity in the wall. It held four sizeable packages, carefully wrapped and bound in leather and twine.

Valkyr stepped towards one of the bundles, sensing the release of her impatience drawing nigh. This package was clearly hers. It shaped roughly like a bow, though it had a lump in the center. Despite the obvious, these clues were not what told her this was her package. She knew. She could feel it, ever since stepping off the Fassendais. She knew where to find it. It was part of her, and it could not be hidden from her.

After a moment’s pause in anticipation, she reached a hand out and pulled at the twine. As she pulled and unfolded the leather wrapping, Valkyr found her bow. Nearly as tall as she and with a sinuous double recurve, it made her feel her heart racing again. It was beautiful. It appeared to be made of metal, though she couldn’t say what type. It did not even seem to stay the same color as she looked at it. At first it seemed purely colorless, silvery. Then it took on a slightly golden hue. As she stared, she thought it even looked bluish. It was covered in intricate designs, all flowing smoothly from tip to tip. Too intricate to etch or carve, she thought. Most importantly, it was hers.

“Wasp,” Valkyr named it in that moment. With it she could sting from above.

More than eighteen Turns unused—no, that’s not right. Eighteen back on Tasala. Here on Harrval it has been over twenty-two Turns. Either way, seventeen Years, and there is not a speck of rust on it. Valkyr picked up the bow and plucked the shining bowstring. It did not need to be strung or relaxed. It gave a quiet but sharp twang and oscillated, singing its vibrations through the shaft of the bow and into her hand.

Next to where the bow had lain was a quiver filled with arrows. The arrows in the quiver had two different shapes and colors of fletching. Valkyr removed an arrow with golden fletches that curved back in towards the nock at the back of the arrow. It was light, about three feet long, with a flat golden head that curved back to meet the shaft, as the fletches did.

Valkyr started bouncing on the balls of her feet, unable to contain the energy she felt. Quickly she grabbed the quiver and ran the five paces to the three doors on the opposite wall of the chamber. She threw the middle one open and saw a training room filled with dummies for skewering and pummeling. She may return here, but it was not what she sought right now. She opened the door on the left and found a much larger chamber.

The chamber was long and narrow. It was probably some 30 yards from side to side, but it must have stretched some three hundred yards long. It receded into the darkness at the far end, showing hay bales at several points along the way. How long had these chambers been prepared for her and her siblings to come train? No matter.

Valkyr found a table to set her quiver on and brought up the arrow she had in her hand. Deftly she nocked it, drew the bow and aimed, and released. The arrow flew towards the far end and hit the target she had chosen, driving halfway in. This bow was the best she had ever held. She needed more of this feeling. She drew another arrow from the quiver, this time one with silver fletches that pointed back away from the shaft, rather than curving in to meet the nock. Likewise, the head had wicked reverse-pointed barbs that would prevent a wounded enemy from removing the arrow easily. She nocked it, pulled the bowstring, and let the second arrow fly. More.

She grabbed the nock of a third arrow and pulled on it, struggling a little to get it out of the quiver because of the angle; she had not pulled far enough out. Impatiently, she slung the quiver over her shoulder and whipped the third arrow out. She could push the bounds of possibility of accurate speed volleys with this bow and these arrows. At the very least, she would try.