Wintermore (Aeon of Light Book 1) by Aron Sethlen

staked to the ground or attached to the sides of trees at varying distances.
    Yaz drops his kit. “Here we are. Wait here and rest a minute. I gotta piss.”
    Preta plops down on the ground, and she lets out a groan from her aching feet. She wipes the sweat from her brow with her sleeve and sips from a water pouch.
    “So what do you think of the alleys?” Yaz says, tying his pant strings.
    “Where do we start?” Preta scans the landscape, taking it all in.
    Yaz points a few feet away from them. “Right there, by the big pine with the letter X carved in the bark. Though it really depends on what your training purpose is.”
    “And what is our purpose?”
    Yaz chuckles. “For you? Ha , just stand still and try to hit the closest target. Are you ready?”
    “Sure, I guess so.”
    Yaz ties a leather guard on his left arm and then he tosses another one to Preta. “Put it on.” Yaz picks up his quiver and bow and counts off twenty paces away from her. He sticks two sets of five arrows in the ground ten paces apart.
    Preta finishes tying on the bracer then looks around, lost, wondering what to do next.
    Yaz waves at her. “Come on, Sis, over here.”
    Preta skips to him and stops with a jump. “Now what do we do?”
    Yaz grabs Preta’s shoulders, turning her into the direction he wants her.
    The alleys transform. No longer does Preta see an alley; instead, the alleys create a staggered tree pattern with numerous obstacles in front of the straw targets.
    “How am I supposed to hit the straw men with all the trees in the way?”
    “Think small, focus on the target, not the trees.”
    Preta lowers her head, unsure if she can do it. “But…”
    Yaz pats Preta on the back. “Don’t worry so much, Sis. Remember, often it’s easier to hit a target in a small space than a target in a big space. It’s all about your frame of mind and focus. Pick a small spot in the center of your target, aim center mass.”
    “All right, show me how.”
    Yaz raises his bow. “Bow in left hand, arrow in right. Face your body perpendicular to the target with bow to ground. Keep your eye on the target and place the shaft in the notch. Grasp the shaft with two fingers and your thumb, and bring the bow up in a smooth, straight line tight to your body. Draw in a breath with strong posture. At the same time you bring the bow up, draw the string until the base of your right thumb rests on your cheek—and release.”
    Yaz’s arrow fires and strikes center mass fifty paces away from them. He rapid fires four more arrows in different directions, all striking targets at varying lengths, all hitting center mass.
    Pleased with himself, Yaz grins and nods. “See? Easy, Sis, now you try.”
    “Right, small and center mass, got it.” Preta eyes her target, aims, bow up, draw, and release. Arrow misses to the right. “Dang it—again.” Aim, bow up, draw, and release—arrow misses short. She lowers her bow and faces her brother. “Yaz?”
    “Yeah, what is it?”
    “What about muskets?”
    “What about them?”
    “Do you think it’s better to have a musket or a bow?”
    “Depends. I get off ten arrows by the time a novice loads a musket. Though the range and power of a musket is hard to beat for one shot.” He raises his bow in his left hand. “But I’ll take this any day.”
    “I see.” Preta raises her bow and faces her target. “I’ll try again.”
    Yaz flicks his head down range. “Go for it.”
    Preta fires off her remaining arrows, all missing her mark. She holds her hands out toward her brother. “I need more.”
    “You shot-em, Sis, so now you go get-em.”
    Preta rolls her eyes. “Fine.” She scurries to her target and yanks the arrows out of the ground and trees then returns to her spot.
    Preta shoots her arrows and again misses her mark. “ Come on .” She peeks over at Yaz.
    Yaz dances from tree to tree, pulling arrow after arrow from his quiver. He fires at targets and strikes center mass every time. The quiver