East

Batu was wrestling with boys in their early teens just outside of the tent city, teaching them moves and correcting their forms while they practiced. I watched him without the ability to understand the emotions that often stirred when I spoke to him or spent the night in his arms. Whatever they were, they were gradually becoming stronger - and they weren't bad, which I think surprised me more than anything else.

"Suvdin," I started quietly. "Can you teach me to shoot a bow and arrow?"

She appeared pleased. "Of course, Moonbeam. This is a great honor."

I wasn't certain what to say. They had some weird deference for me, despite me telling them repeatedly that I was a normal person.

Normal people don't reappear seventy years later without having aged a day. I tried to dismiss this thought, wanting to fit in and become what they viewed as normal around here.

"Do you wish to start now?" Suvdin asked.

"Yes, that'd be great," I said. "If it's okay with you, Ghoajin?" I asked uncertainly, not wanting to abandon my hostess.

"I am surprised Batu has … not taught you," she replied. "He is a good boy, but he has … always been different. I will … remind him to respect … those he should respect."

I started to laugh but stopped, seeing how serious she was about yelling at her great grandson.

Suvdin smiled and shooed away the two little girls who had put random, lopsided braids in my hair and waited for me to rise. We walked down the hill, towards the area where the children around seven had been taking an archery class earlier. A barrel filled with practice bows of different sizes was present at one end, targets at the other.

Suvdin sized me up and selected one, handing it to me. Not wanting to embarrass myself by failing to draw it, I waited for her instructions.

She chose another and motioned for me to line up behind a rock demarking the area where shooters stood. With simple instructions and many, many corrections, she began to teach me. To my delight, I was able to draw the bow she chose. It was hard but nothing like Batu's.

Everything seemed to be going well, until I shot my first arrow.

It landed two feet in front of me. I groaned. My right arm was sore already. It was harder than it looked to hold back the bowstring.

"You must hold your form," Suvdin said, trying not to smile. "Nothing moves until the arrow is gone." She adjusted my form. "Try again."

I lifted the bow and notched an arrow. This time, Suvdin kept one of her hands under my right elbow to prevent it from dropping before I fired. With the other, she braced the front of the bow, taking some of the strain off me.