The sun filtered through the colossal trees, bathing the forest of Adife in a golden light. The chirping of birds, the distant murmur of rushing water, and the wind rustling through the leaves intoxicated Umay's senses. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she weighed the bow in her hand. It was heavy. Back on Earth, she had never held a real weapon like this.
The bow was crafted from a flexible yet powerful wood. Its ends were reinforced with a bone-like substance, and the string was made of a tightly twisted variant of plant fiber. The arrows were long and slender, their tips sharpened with jagged stones. As Umay brushed her fingers against the bowstring, she felt its rigidity and swallowed hard.
Avex stood a few paces away, arms crossed over his chest, waiting. His eyes were as cold as ever, but there was an underlying impatience in them. Umay knew he didn't trust her. And perhaps, he wasn't wrong.
"I don't even know how to hold it," she said, lifting the bow awkwardly.
Avex sighed and approached her with heavy steps, dry leaves crunching beneath his feet. When Umay noticed his massive shadow falling over her, she instinctively corrected her posture.
Stepping up behind her, Avex brought his broad frame close. Umay tensed as she felt his warmth against her back, but she remained silent.
"You hold the bow with your left hand," Avex said, his voice low but commanding. "Draw the string with your right."
Umay nodded and gripped the bow with her left hand, though she wasn't sure how tightly to squeeze. Avex lightly clasped her wrist, adjusting her grip. His rough yet careful touch sent a sudden shiver down the back of her neck.
"Not too tight. But do not leave it slack either," Avex warned, pulling his fingers away from her hand.
Trembling, Umay drew the string. The bow's resistance was far greater than she had anticipated; her fingers strained, and the cord bit painfully into her skin. She clenched her teeth but let out no sound.
Avex tilted his head, examining her posture. "Keep your elbow down. Keep your eyes on the target."
Umay stared at the target a few meters away. A wooden slab had been secured to the trunk of a tree, its surface marred by old arrow scars. Umay took a slow breath through her nose.
"Release," Avex said.
Umay held her breath and let go of the string. The arrow thudded into the ground at least a meter wide of the target.
A moment of silence followed. Umay opened her eyes wide and looked at Avex. His expression hadn't changed, but she secretly suspected he was laughing at her inside.
"Again," Avex said, taking a step back.
Umay sighed but slotted another arrow into place. This time, as she drew the string, she tried to ignore the ache in her fingers. Following Avex's instructions, she kept her elbow steady. She locked her eyes onto the target.
She stabilized her breathing for a few seconds and released the arrow once more. This time, it landed much closer to the mark.
Umay wanted to let out a triumphant cheer, but seeing Avex's still-serious gaze, she kept quiet.
"You will be able to hit it within a few days," the man said.
Umay looked up at him. "Really?"
Avex paused for a moment. Then, he gave a slight nod. "If you take it seriously."
Umay caught the faint trace of satisfaction on his face and smiled. "Then I am taking it seriously. Let's keep going!"
Avex handed her a new arrow. This time, Umay kept her wrists firmer, feeling the first real spark of learning.
One Week Later
Umay had been woken up before the twin moons of Adife had even vanished from the sky. She was expected to learn hunting and archery all day long. That damn giant had been working her to the bone for the past week, and every time she was on the verge of quitting, he would mutter, "If I am not here one day, who do you think will protect you? As far as I know, they don't want you here any more than they want me."
It was a brilliant motivator, really. Pure, unadulterated survival terror.
During the day, she tried to learn hunting with Avex. At night, she used the needles, threads, and yapašlar (she had dubbed the leaf-cloths this since they felt so much like fabric) he brought her to sew clothes for herself. A couple of loose-fitting pants, some undergarments, and a few tunics. Even Avex admired her sewing skills.
In fact, he kept asking her when she was going to make something for him. In those moments, when he shed his rough, silent exterior and turned into a polite, almost timid boy, it felt virtually impossible for Umay to say no to him. Ultimately, she had accepted the commission. After finishing her own clothes, she had sewn a shirt for him—one she thought would look beautiful over his leather trousers.
Avex had mentioned that tonight was the season-sending festival. Last night, just so Avex could wear the shirt today, Umay had stayed awake all night.
Umay carefully smoothed out the dark blue shirt laid across the large stone table. She had meticulously folded the sleeves and added lacing instead of buttons. The fabric was structured to be strong yet comfortable across Avex's broad shoulders. Tilting her head, she admired her work with pride. It was easily one of the best pieces she had ever made.
Avex stood at the threshold of the door, arms crossed over his chest, watching Umay with an unreadable expression. His gaze flicked to the shirt, then back to Umay.
"I will not wear this," he said in a flat voice.
Umay snapped her head up and shot him a sharp look. "You haven't even tried it on yet!"
Avex sighed, shaking his head. "I have no need for it."
Umay placed her hands on her hips and stepped closer to him. "Of course you need it. Are you going to wear that old leather? We are going to a festival, Avex, not a hunt!"
Avex furrowed his brows. "No one cares how I dress."
Umay snatched the shirt fiercely and pressed it against Avex's chest. "I care."
Avex blinked for a fraction of a second. Umay's voice was laced with an unexpected finality. There was a defiant spark in the eyes of this small but stubborn woman.
Avex stole a brief glance at the shirt. The dark blue fabric had been crafted with immense care by Umay's own hands. The edges were neatly finished, the laces securely threaded. She had worked hard. She had worked hard for him.
As his jaw tightened, he looked away. "It will not suit me."
Umay rolled her eyes. "Is that the only reason you're refusing to wear it? Because I think you're just making excuses."
Avex's muscles locked. He genuinely didn't know what to say. He was a warrior. He didn't feel at home in fine fabrics. He existed in the hunt, in the fray, covered in blood and dirt. But Umay was telling him he could be someone else. As if he weren't merely a warrior...
Umay took a deep breath, her voice softening as she added, "You kept telling me to make something for you all week. Now you're being a spoilsport. If you weren't going to wear it, why did you make me go through all the trouble?"
Avex raised his eyebrows.
His gaze drifted down to the fine, lightweight texture of the cloth. He imagined how it would rest against her skin. How it would look on her...
A strange warmth bloomed inside him.
Umay narrowed her eyes, looking at him defensively. "What, did you suddenly fall in love with the shirt?"
Avex averted his eyes from Umay and looked back at the garment. With a heavy sigh, he took the shirt, glanced at Umay out of the corner of his eye, and lowered his head. "Fine," he muttered, sounding thoroughly defeated.
A wide smile spread across Umay's face. "You know, sometimes dealing with you is harder than hunting."
Avex rolled eyes but carefully slipped the shirt on. As the fabric touched his skin, it brought an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation. He squared his shoulders, surprised by how easily he could move in it.
Umay's eyes brightened, and she took a step closer to him. "Look at that, it's not bad at all."
Avex gave a slight nod. The alien sensation still lingered inside him, but Umay's smile made him think that wearing the shirt was entirely worth it. Even though he knew deep down that getting attached to her would only bring immense pain when she eventually left, every single side of this female had already begun to hopelessly captivate him.
As Umay picked up her own dress and turned around to get ready, she murmured softly, "Today, everyone is going to see Avex differently."
Watching her walk away, Avex felt a strange, profound sense of peace wash over him. Perhaps for the very first time, someone was looking at him not just as a weapon, but as something more.