With the introduction of the competitors now complete, the Gelert announcer shouted out the rules for the very few spectators that might be unfamiliar with them. "The archers will release three arrows each. The one with the closest arrow to the center shall be declared the winner for this year, and take home to his kingdom the coveted Archery Champion trophy!" the Gelert stepped to a table as he said this, pulling a sheet off the top of it and revealing the glittering gold trophy. "This trophy will be presented by the archer to his king, and henceforth it shall be proudly displayed in the castle hall for one year. At the end of the year, the king must relinquish the trophy, and the Grand Archery Competition will be held once again."

A sense of excitement rumbled across the stands. The citizens of Meridell, who sat in the shaded area, looked confident. Their land always seemed to be in constant peril, and therefore, they had very experienced archers among them. The archery trophy had not been claimed by the kingdom of Brightvale for nearly five years, and King Skarl was becoming quite accustomed to seeing the trophy in his grand hall.

"Archers! At the ready, please." the Gelert said, motioning for the competitors to take their places. Sir Runell, the yellow Scorchio representing Meridell, stepped up to his mark. Sir Korinesta, the green Krawk hailing from Brightvale stood back, waiting patiently for his turn.

Looking calm and confident, Sir Runell fitted his bow with the first arrow, took aim, and let it fly. The crowd erupted in cheers as his arrow struck the bullseye, just off of dead center. Two more arrows would fly from the Scorchio's bow, the second striking just right of the center, and the last... dead on. The crowd flew into an absolute frenzy when the Gelert officially declared that the Scorchio's final arrow had landed dead center.

The Scorchio turned and gave a condescending look towards the Krawk as he moved out of the way, allowing the Brightvalian to take his turn. Not that it much matters now, the Scorchio thought, since there is no way that jester from Brightvale could ever surpass me. I mean, really... just look at those ridiculous clothes. The Scorchio eyed the Krawk, who wore a white robe with fine gold trimmings. Unable to keep further comment to himself, and trying to unnerve his competitor, the Scorchio asked Sir Korinesta, in a mocking tone of course, what kind of archer wore long robes.

The Krawk turned to the rude Scorchio, and replied. "I, sir, am not an archer... I am a mathematician!" With that, the Krawk stuck his nose in the air and took his place, as the Scorchio gaped in bewilderment.

Before taking up his bow, Sir Korinesta placed a finger onto his tongue, then held his finger aloft, checking the direction of the wind. He then crouched, and moved just barely to the right. Standing up straight once again, he took his bow and knocked an arrow into it. For quite a few moments, the Krawk stood there, taking careful aim. The Scorchio could hear his competitor mumbling something about "angles" and "degrees". The puzzled Scorchio furrowed his eyebrows and looked down, wondering what purpose these strange words could possibly serve.

There was then the unmistakable sound of an arrow whizzing through the air, followed by the sound of an arrow colliding with wood... lastly, a collective gasp from the audience was heard. The Scorchio looked up quickly with a grin on his face. That fool probably hit the wooden post that holds the targe- However, the Scorchio's thought was immediately silenced when he saw where the Krawk's arrow had hit. There, resting within the splinted remains of his own arrow, was that of Sir Korinesta, still quivering ever so slightly. Sir Runell's jaw dropped as the small group of Brightvale citizens broke out into cheers and applause. The people of Meridell glared at them, but stayed silent themselves, for they were quite nervous now. In the event that the champions' arrows were in the exact same mark, the winner would then be decided by who had shot the next closest arrow. A hush fell over the audience, as Sir Korinesta once again tested the wind and fitted his bow.

Twice more the Krawk's arrow flew, and twice more it hit dead center. The final hit forced the battered head of Sir Runell's arrow right out the hay target's backside, in a final discouraging blow.

A groan echoed through the stands where the residents of Meridell sat. Their noses, which had been held high just minutes earlier, were now pointed down towards their feet. Many turned their heads so that they would not have to bear seeing the triumphant gleam in the eyes of the Brightvalians.

"H-how... how did you do that?" was the only thing the Scorchio could stutter as the Krawk turned towards him.

"Knowledge is power, my young friend," Sir Korinesta said, shaking the Scorchio's hand. "We are both skilled with the bow, but..." the Krawk took a book from his robes, then handed it to the Scorchio. "I am also skilled with knowledge." With that, the Krawk walked towards the bewildered Gelert to receive his trophy.

Still in a state of disbelief, Sir Runell looked down at the book Sir Korinesta had placed in his hand, and read the title aloud: "Practical Physics and Mathematics." The Scorchio looked up at the Krawk who now held the trophy, and the sight of his countrymen cheering for him. He then promptly sat on the grass, opened the book, and began to read.

Throughout the rest of the year, young Meridellians practice endlessly, each hoping to become that year's champion in the archery competition. Even young Neopets, who lack the strength to pull back a bow, practice their aiming techniques through the use of a special launcher.