A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Oliver nodded a few times to himself. That made sense. That was enough of a sentiment to carry him through the day. This other party thought it to be a poisoning, without the knowledge that they'd helped to facilitate his passing through to the Third Boundary. Dominus would have been shocked to learn he'd done it so soon, Oliver knew. Perhaps such an achievement was worth any drawback.

He dug into the breakfast that Verdant had prepared for him, and then went to face the day.

…

…

His lessons weren't things that he could easily concentrate on with worries hanging at the back of his mind. Though, that did not stop a rather excellent performance in his archery lesson before lunch.

The second he'd picked the bow up, he'd known that he was going to break new ground that day. It was the fact that the weapon felt different, more interesting than it had when he'd gripped it before – the indicators of a new perspective.

Professor Yoreholder seemed preoccupied by something for much of the lesson, and so she set them to training by themselves. Oliver had joined a group of others, and merely set about firing down the range.

He was like an apparition hanging in the background quietly as the others laughed and joked, and took their casual shots. They'd gone for the medium range, a fair distance. The sort of distance that few in the class could consistently get a centre shot on. Indeed, none managed it. Not even Oliver.

He glanced at the outer ring, hitting the square instead of the target itself – a singularly bad shot, but he didn't feel too put off by that fact. He was on to something, he reasoned.

By the time his second shot came around, he clipped the ring just away from the bullseye. Not the best shot in their group so far, but better than before. The other students in their party of five glanced at him.

Though it wasn't formal competition, or anything of the like, whenever the students were put into groups down the range like this, they couldn't help but try to make a better shot than the rest of those in their group.

So far, one boy was leading. Not a very good archer, not usually, but today he'd gotten the bullseye, despite his rather distracted shot. Oliver's shot was the only other one that got close.

He could feel a distinct sense for each one of his muscles. Testing them individually. He drew the bowstring back, feeling the tension in his upper back as he pulled it taught. He tried shifting his body just a little, feeling his abdominals engage, employing more stability, and then he tried bending his knees just slightly.

He put them all together at once, with that black bow of his, with its impossible draw strength.

The released arrow rocketed with speed enough to puncture plate. Straight into the centre of the bullseye, it rammed itself.

Oliver nodded in satisfaction. He saw Professor Yoreholder's troubled face as he turned back around, but that did not stop her from giving him the slightest motion of her hand in a gesture of approval, before she went back to her seemingly urgent discussion.

He felt it along with everything else – that there were impossible improvements to make. But along with that sense of improvement, there loomed a threat. That which he feared, that same sense of doom that had come with his initial ascension to the Third Boundary, he could feel it slightly closer than before, with the improvements that he'd made in archery.

That was troubling, but not troubling enough to be immobilizing. He had time now, something that he lacked before. He could afford to look for alternative solutions, rather than merely meeting the problem head-on, as it caught him unawares. He would not allow himself to be put into such a position of weakness again.

When lunchtime came around, he sparred with Blackthorn as normal, though the girl herself was tired, as a result of their expedition the day before. Jorah, Karesh and Kaya were there for the practice as well, and they were equally as tired. Continue your adventure with empire

It was a situation that Oliver had planned to avoid, by going on the first day of the weekend, rather than the second, but unfortunately, on that week, their second day of the weekend was replaced by a half-day of school, to make up for the fact that midweek, in the afternoon, they'd be missing classes as the result of a faculty meeting in the afternoon.

Thus their temporary misery should have been over with the conclusion of morning lessons, but they trained nonetheless. Oliver had to consciously hold back and go lighter than before. His strength had increased, and the control required to keep it to an appropriate level had increased as well.

It grew even harder for Blackthorn to find the opportunities to unsettle him, as she tried different tactics in the hope of securing a hit. In the end, both exhaustion and Oliver's newfound strength won out, and she gave up.

Peter provided the four trainees with tea, as Oliver's mind grew increasingly focused on what was to come that evening. Verdant didn't help matters there, with a poorly timed announcement on that fact.

"My Lord, I've confirmed your attendance with the Pendragons for this evening," Verdant said, as he marched across the clearing, carrying a package for himself. "Nebular is in the middle of reviewing the supplies that we've given him. He said he should be able to make the sales by midweek."

Oliver nodded absentmindedly at both. It would be good to have a coin purse full again, but somehow that seemed to matter less than it had the day before. Of course, the others could not react quite so casually to the mention of the Pendragon name.

"Forgive me, Ser, did you say Pendragon?" Jorah asked Verdant.

"That I did," Verdant confirmed. "Our liege received an invitation to tea this morning." He said it as though it was only natural, completely contrary to the surprised reaction that he'd had that very morning, the same reaction that was now echoed on the faces of the rest of those in attendance.