My father taught me to hunt regularly. As far back as I can remember, he was always by my side, guiding me through the forests, showing me how nature could be both an ally and an adversary. What I learned, however, was that the difference between hitting a stationary target and a moving one was immense. It was the difference between night and day. For most soldiers, even becoming a beginner archer was an achievement. It took more than a week of training; it required relentless effort, a dedication that consumed both the body and the soul. And even so, becoming a beginner archer was a goal reserved only for those with natural talent.
The preparatory archer, on the other hand, could be made with sweat and effort, but the real test came afterward, when precision and skill in shooting with a moving bow became more important than brute strength. Hitting a bird at thirty meters with an arrow was not a matter of power. It was a matter of talent, intuition, and precision that came from the very bones of the hunter.
"Congratulations, young master," one of the warriors accompanying me said, applauding as I removed the arrow from a squirrel's forehead. He held a basket in his hands, filled with the small animals I had hunted. There were three other warriors with me, all alert to any movement in the forest. They were loyal to my father, and their trust in me was something I didn't take lightly.
"It's nothing," I replied with a smile, no longer feeling so impressed by the praise. My focus was elsewhere now. Something was starting to form within me, something that made me more attentive, more alert.
The tingling sensation on my forehead was nothing new. It was like a slight itch I felt every time I was about to release an arrow, but now, the sensation felt more present. Something inside me was changing, becoming stronger, clearer. The "feel" of the longbow was more sensitive, as though the string was calling to me with each pull. The grip on my fingers was more precise, surer, and when I looked at the quiver, I felt a rising tension in the air, as if the very wind was urging me to shoot.
Then I heard it. A faint noise, almost imperceptible. It was distant, but close enough for me to notice. My ears twitched lightly, the sound dragging through the air. It was a strange sound, different, something that could only be described as a whisper of the forest.
The heat in my forehead increased. It felt as though an electric current was starting to run down my spine, a tingling sensation that spread across my vertebrae and concentrated on my skull. It was a sensation I'd never felt before. It was as though I had been connected to something larger, as though every muscle in my body was tuned to a single purpose.
The "river" flowing through my body, that indifferent cold, began to warm. I felt a growing pressure on my forehead, as though the heat was accumulating, condensing somewhere deep inside me. I knew something was about to happen.
When I turned quickly, everything seemed to be in slow motion. The arrow slid into the bowstring with almost supernatural precision, and without hesitation, I released it.
The arrow cut through the air like a black line, moving with the speed of lightning. The sound of impact was deafening, as if the tree it struck was screaming. KA! The arrow cruelly pierced the tree trunk, violently trembling as something—a creature—fell to the ground, lifeless.
However, at the same time, something happened inside me. An explosion of sensations took over my body. It was as if the air itself was compressing around me. I dropped to my knees, my head pounding with sweat dripping down my forehead. Something soft and gelatinous seemed to explode in my forehead, and for a moment, I felt a strange weakness, as if my bones had melted. The pain was momentary but intense, and as I took deeper breaths, a wave of heat washed over me. The blood vessels that had once felt tense relaxed for a brief moment, and I almost lost myself in the heat that filled my body.
I was still in shock, but the feeling of power, of intensity, was undeniable. Something inside me was changing in a way I couldn't explain, something that made me feel more alive than ever.
It all happened in the blink of an eye, but to me, it was as if time had stopped. As though I had broken through something invisible, a barrier I didn't even know existed.
The three warriors were stunned, their gazes fixed on the snake I had slain. It was hard to believe, even for me.
"A translucent snake…" one of them murmured, surprise evident in his voice.
"Wow, he hit a translucent snake…" another said, disbelief in his tone.
I still couldn't fully process what I had just done, but seeing the others' expressions, I realized that something extraordinary had just happened. I ran toward the tree, and for a moment, I thought the young master had missed. Only after I saw the outline of the creature did I realize how unusual it was.
Translucent snakes were known for their cunning. They camouflaged themselves so well that they could go unnoticed by anyone. Their venom was deadly to small animals, and if a human were bitten, it could paralyze them in minutes. I knew this, but until now, I had never faced one of these creatures. It was something that, until that moment, seemed to belong to the realm of myths.
While the others continued to watch me with a mix of awe and admiration, I was already standing, looking at my hands. What I felt there was not just the body of a warrior. It was something more, a connection to what was inside me, something that expanded like a flame.
I felt the blood rushing stronger through my veins, my muscles contracting almost vividly, and my tendons stretching as if my body had become an extension of my will. The cold sensation that once dominated me was now dissipating, making way for a gentle warmth that filled my entire body. The warmth concentrated between my eyebrows, as if some hidden power was awakening there.
The threshold that archers spend a lifetime trying to reach… I had crossed it in just three months.