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"The Young Archer " by quartu
Altador was lovely this time of year. The sea breeze was cool and gentle, the smells of fresh pastries and floral perfume filled every corner of the city. They had begun preparing for the Altador Cup, decorations of each team colour hung proudly over the Arena District. Far from the city, however, near the quaint wheat fields, Morgan, a yellow acara sat still amongst the gently swaying wheat, her trusty training bow lay in her lap as she contemplated the events of the day. She had been spending her summers in the great city for as long as she could remember, studying archery under the guidance of the mighty King himself. Her parents had done a great deed for the city, so the council had no problem looking after young Morgan while her family was preoccupied with their duties. She didn’t mind it one bit, getting to learn about Altador’s vast and rich history and hearing tales of the council's heroics were a few of her favourite activities. However, being surrounded by so many great heroes made her feel quite inadequate at times. Fidgeting with her bow she stared out over the rolling farm hills, even outside its grand walls the land was so beautiful and the acara took it all in peacefully. As she sat still her muscles began to ache.

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