As time passed, Thorfinn grew more accustomed to life here. He learned from Boro how to hunt in his beast-form, how to communicate with his bonded partner, and how to more smoothly control the body of his other self. Life settled into a tranquil rhythm, and Thorfinn absorbed the knowledge that Boro imparted like a thirsty sponge.
Boro's teaching style was certainly… down-to-earth. It took Thorfinn a long time to realize that the prophetic dreams Boro spoke of were, in fact, the Greensight. Sigh—Boro was so vague that Thorfinn hadn't made the connection immediately.
The Greensight refers to the ability to have prophetic dreams, also known as "green dreams". Those with the gift sometimes have normal dreams, but the "green dreams" are filled with symbolic imagery and metaphors that hint at future events. The meaning behind the dreams is not always clear, but once you've experienced one, you'll find that events around you unfold just as the dream foretold.
Fortunately, that was the only point where Boro spoke in riddles; in all other aspects, he was an excellent Skinchanger, and Thorfinn had benefited greatly over a stretch of time.
In addition to his skinchanging practice, Thorfinn consistently stuck to his physical training, which had already yielded impressive results. However, he had yet to find a suitable combat instructor. The fighting style of the Free Folk is mostly crude and emphasizes brute strength over finesse. While it has a kind of rough, powerful simplicity, Thorfinn was reluctant to adopt it as his main skill.
There weren't many other choices left to Thorfinn. In the realm of swordsmanship, he was merely an amateur. Even though Thorfinn didn't have a real sword, that wasn't the main issue. The crucial problem was that without a sword-master's guidance, Thorfinn couldn't hope to master a cold steel weapon like a sword. It seemed that for the current stage, archery was the only skill Thorfinn could access and deeply practice.
Shooting arrows—that was easy enough to get started with, at least for Thorfinn.
In this age of cold steel weapons, the bow and arrow are a deadly, fearsome tool. Thinking of it that way, becoming a sharpshooter who never misses a mark seemed like a fine choice. After all, a bow and arrows are the best weapons one can prepare on short notice and are easy to make. You'll reap the benefits of using them in a short time.
The hundred push-ups he did daily, along with the training from his mother, Darie, and father, Reynar, gave Thorfinn impressive arm strength. He could draw and loose an arrow in one smooth, continuous motion. Thanks to Darie's instruction, Thorfinn could already hit a stationary target accurately within fifty paces, though he couldn't yet hit the bullseye every single time.
Becoming an outstanding archer was now Thorfinn's new goal, and for that, he could only practice diligently.
He placed an arrow on the string, gripped the nock with two fingers, pulled back with force, aimed at the target, kept his eye on the mark, and then let go with a whoosh. The arrow struck the bullseye, joining the cluster of other arrows already in the target.
"You shouldn't pause..." Boro's voice drifted from behind Thorfinn.
Thorfinn was confused. "What?"
Boro chuckled. "Even if I'm no archer, I've seen enough to know a thing or two. Never hesitate in the draw. You won't have the time for that in a fight. You have the accuracy; now you must increase your speed. Pull the string back to the center of your chin and let go. Once your eyes know where to shoot, you won't need to aim."
Thorfinn sounded uncertain. "In that case..."
Boro finished his thought for him: "In that case, you need to practice more! Arrow after arrow, keep at it, and the bow will become a deadly weapon in your hands."
Thorfinn couldn't help but smile, nocking and drawing another arrow. "That sort of thing, I'm still a long way off!"
Boro watched Thorfinn continue his relentless practice, gave a satisfied smile, and turned to leave.
The targets in the forest grew further away. Faster with the shot, faster still; more agile in his movements, more agile yet. Boro didn't understand why Thorfinn trained himself with such frightening intensity, but all he knew was that he had encountered an extraordinary little creature.
Setting archery aside for a moment, having the right tools was also extremely important. Thorfinn only used a common wooden bow for practice, but even that was enough for him at this stage.
A bow is made of a flexible stave and a resilient string, while an arrow consists of a head, a shaft, and fletching. The head is made of bronze or iron, the shaft of bamboo or wood, and the fletching from the feathers of birds like eagles, hawks, or geese.
For making a bow, fully dried, sturdy yew is certainly the best material, but Thorfinn was capable of crafting a decent bow even without it. He could find wood with good elasticity in the forest and store a supply of quality staves to let them dry for later use. Though other woods might not last as long, Thorfinn could simply make several bows and switch to a new one when the old one lost its snap.
Yew is the ideal material for bow-making, but other woods like oak, willow, hickory, cedar, ironwood, hornbeam, juniper, birch, and hemlock are also excellent choices. Growing up Beyond the Wall, there was no shortage of such trees, as the outer woods were full of ideal bow-making timber. Thus, Thorfinn was never wanting for materials.
Skinchanging, shooting arrows, crafting bows—the boring and tedious days slipped by one after another.
One day, Thorfinn was practicing his archery as usual, but his sharp eyes and ears detected some unusual movement. He drew his bow and aimed at a nearby thicket.
"I see you. Come out! Or I might just shoot."
"Don't... I'm coming out now."
A slightly flustered female voice responded. A girl, about thirteen or fourteen years old, emerged, a basket hooked over her arm, clearly out to gather wild herbs. The girl had long, golden hair that resembled silk, and her quiet, gentle demeanor made her look like a sweet girl from next door.
Her features were not striking, but they were harmonious, and her large amber eyes seemed to speak for her.
She looked at Thorfinn with a pitiable expression. "I was just gathering some wild herbs nearby, and I heard a noise so I came to see... I truly meant no harm."
Thorfinn quickly lowered his bow and arrow, a little surprised and pleased. "You wouldn't happen to be... Thenya's apprentice, would you? I remember Boro mentioning that Thenya took on an apprentice; that must be you."
The girl seemed to warm to Thorfinn's enthusiasm, and she broke into a faint smile. "You guessed correctly. I am Lyra, and as you said, Thenya's apprentice."
Thorfinn smiled, his blue eyes showing a hint of excitement. It had been a long time since he'd seen another soul, and to find a peer here, and a pretty one at that!
"I'm Thorfinn, and I live with Boro."
The girl seemed a little curious. "Are you... a Skinchanger, then?"
Thorfinn joked, "I am a Skinchanger, and you are a... forest witch living in the woods. Oh, wait, I should say a witch's apprentice."
The girl seemed amused by Thorfinn's tone, and as she likely hadn't seen anyone her age in a long time, she laughed heartily.
"Why would a Skinchanger practice archery so diligently? You seem quite good at it."
Thorfinn laughed. "Who says a Skinchanger can't practice archery diligently? And you, little witch, aren't you still digging up herbs to fill your belly? We can do anything we please! We're all Free Folk, after all."
Lyra smiled. "You are interesting. You know where I live. You can come visit sometime. Granny Thenya is very fond of children, especially handsome ones like you—she spoils them. It's getting late, and I should head back. I still have to cook for Granny Thenya."
Thorfinn said, "I will go. I'd like to meet Granny Thenya, too."
Lyra skipped away cheerfully. Thorfinn went back to his archery practice. The reason he had lowered his guard so readily wasn't just because Lyra was a girl, but because Thorfinn sensed no malice from her. After all, a girl Beyond the Wall could kill just as easily, and some of the fiercer ones were more than a match for any man.
Improving his physique and honing his body. Archery is an ancient sport full of charm—a balance of action and stillness, through which one can perceive the great truths of the world. Without realizing it, Thorfinn's mind also quieted. It felt as if the instant the arrow was loosed was an eternity. Faster, faster... Arrow after arrow, without end. Shooting the quiver empty, gathering the arrows, and shooting again.
He dragged his tired body and aching arms back to his dwelling that evening. Boro had already made dinner, which was a rare occurrence. Since Boro had tasted Thorfinn's cooking these past few days, he had completely given up on cooking. How to put it? His own cooking was barely edible! Why would Boro eat poorly flavored food when he could have something delicious?
But this time, Boro had indeed prepared food: a soup made with onions, radishes, and some unknown wild herbs mixed with minced meat. The taste was decent—not delicious, but not bad either.
Noticing Thorfinn's slightly suspicious look, Boro said, "What? Is it strange for me to cook? After all, I am a confirmed bachelor. Can you even move your arms? Even with a light bow, training that intensely must be quite taxing!"
Thorfinn smiled, raising his sore arm with some effort, letting out a painful groan.
"It's a bit tough, but a night's sleep will fix it."
Boro said, with a hint of exasperation, "I truly don't know how you do it, you little monster. Such a strong recovery ability! I always see you adding more to your training, and the next day you're as lively as ever. Thinking back, even as a boy, I didn't have your recovery power! It's truly strange."
Thorfinn held the bowl with his left hand and slurped a few mouthfuls of the soup before saying, "I was born this way. I don't know why, but it means I can get more things done."
Boro pursed his lips. "It's hard to believe a lad like you is only eleven. What was I doing at eleven? Oh—I think I was still playing war games with the children from the neighboring village."
Thorfinn gave a smug smile. "Exactly! Boring children like me are hard to find... Oh, right. I met a girl outside today. Her name is Lyra, and she's Thenya's apprentice. I think I'll go call on Thenya tomorrow. Maybe she can take a look at my strange physique."
Boro's smile turned suggestive. "You don't go until you meet the little girl. You wouldn't happen to have your eye on her, would you? I've seen her these last couple of days, and she's very pretty. If you like her, you could consider stealing her for a wife."
Thorfinn lightly spat. "Pah! She's with the forest witch. I don't have the guts for that... I need to get to know her first, heh heh heh!"
Boro burst into loud, choking laughter.